Read the Warning Label First Page 13

  Honestly, I hoped he did.

  I hoped he exposed her for the lying, conniving, slut that she was.

  Of all people, never would I have guessed that she would have done something like this to me.

  After all that I’d done for her.

  We were sisters.

  How could she intentionally try to hurt me?

  Why would she want to do that to me?

  People do the craziest things to the people that love them the most but they will give their whole heart and all of their loyalty, to someone who barely gives a damn about them.

  I’ll never understand it.

  I didn’t comment to anything that she’d said.

  I grabbed my purse and headed towards the door.

  “I’m so sorry Tori. I didn’t know that things were going to happen the way that they did. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know that he already knew who we were and that he was really out to hurt any one of us before any offer was on the table. It was stupid and I’m so sorry. I love you so much,” Cheyanne cried but I walked out of the front door and didn’t look back.

  Her husband pulled into the driveway.

  Quietly, I took the things from his car and transferred them to mine.

  Without saying a word, once I was done, I drove away.

  **********

  Chapter Nine

  “Let me guess, you’re staying late again?” Hunter asked.

  I simply nodded.

  He didn’t respond, just shook his head and headed in the direction of his mistress, who was waiting for him a few feet away.

  Men make me sick.

  I hadn’t spoken to my sister in over a week since finding out that she had intentionally tried to hurt me by paying and sending Tristan my way.

  Little did she know, he was already hot on our trail and I had long since been his target.

  He’d basically just used her offer as an opportunity to make some extra cash.

  She’d made a deal with the Devil.

  And the thought that she’d had sex with him bothered me even more than finding out what she’d done.

  It was nasty as hell, and since being told, I always felt so dirty.

  My showers were twice as long and I could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror.

  I guess the best way to describe it is that I felt like a hand-me-down, or second best.

  The whole situation definitely had me feeling like I was a stranger in my own body.

  Of course I hadn’t heard anything from Tristan or Delilah and I could only hope that I would never see them another day in my entire life.

  I would probably catch a charge if I did.

  It would be a dream come true to run both of them over with my car.

  Prison would probably feel more like home to me these days anyway; especially since my house no longer felt like a home.

  Speaking of, I still hadn’t been staying at my place.

  I was staying at a hotel, just walking distance from my job.

  I was for sure that I was going to sell it, but first I had to find another place…in Charlotte, North Carolina.

  Our firm had a sister-company there and I was talking with a few people in that office about a transfer.

  Of course it was ideal for the Senior Vice President to be located here at the main company, but they would be okay without me.

  So, it wasn’t really a matter of if it was possible…it was.

  It was just a matter of when.

  When would I be ready to make that move?

  The truth was, I was ready now.

  There was nothing left for me here and I only imagined that in the next month or two, I would be hitting the road and never looking back.

  “You don’t like roses do you?”

  The night janitor asked as he emptied my trashcan.

  I was still getting the roses at least once a week.

  I’d called the shop on the bottom of the vase and they’d told me that they had been preordered a while ago to be delivered randomly for the next few months.

  Of course they wouldn’t give me any information on the buyer, but it had Tristan’s name written all over it. He was always doing things like this to flatter me, but unfortunately it was all one big scheme.

  “I do, but my favorite is lilies,” I said to him.

  He shook his head and continued to do his job.

  He seemed nice.

  He also seemed shy.

  He never really gave eye contact even when we briefly spoke.

  I could tell that he had a kind spirit about him. He spoke when spoken to and towards me he had always been friendly.

  Just then, I wondered if he would be okay with being just a little friendlier than usual by answering a few of my questions about men.

  I would love to hear a male’s point of view about a few things.

  It was just us left in the office as always, so hopefully he wouldn’t mind chatting with me a little.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What’s the secret? What is it that men truly want from a woman?”

  He placed the trashcan back down by my desk and then he answered.

  “Men want the same thing women want. Love, loyalty, honest and respect. Our approaches to obtaining it are just different,” he said.

  I thought about his comment.

  “But why are men so cruel? They can hurt a woman and break her heart and not think twice about it?”

  “Some women are the same way.”

  “Yeah, but mostly its men. They can have a woman that gives them all of the things that you said and still play her and try to run game on her.”

  “Well, if he’s trying to play her and run game on her, than clearly she just isn’t the one. If she was the one he wouldn’t do a thing to lose her. It just depends on the man and what he truly wants,” he said heading towards the door.

  “But then why don’t they just say that? Why don’t they just say what they want?”

  “Some do. Some don’t. Some show all of the right signs, and give all of the right vibes, and some women just miss them. They see what they want to see.”

  No he didn’t try to throw the signs thing in my face!

  I didn’t need any advice on recognizing the signs.

  I had that covered.

  Tristan had been the first love and the last love to catch me slipping and off of my toes.

  “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  The janitor walked out of my office, closing the door behind him.

  Though I hadn’t gotten too much out of him, he seemed like he might have a little knowledge that might be beneficial to me in the future.

  Maybe with him more often wouldn’t be such a bad idea, especially if I wanted something worth having in the future.

  The insight would be good.

  At the moment, I couldn’t even imagine dating, touching, or even looking at a man in that way, but one day I’m sure that I might be ready again.

  I found it funny that he’d mentioned signs.

  Did he know who he was talking to?

  I was the queen at recognizing them.

  It was only when the man had a head’s up or help like Tristan had been given, that I’d missed them.

  For instance, the nonchalant communication, and even the failure to look me in my face for longer than a second, told me that he, the janitor, was probably one of the few men that were happy in whatever relationship that he was in.

  He left little, to no room, for messing up.

  The only other men that I’d seen that in were one of my brother’s and both of my sister’s husbands’.

  Nevertheless, talking to him may help me in the future so I planned to small talk with him as much as possible.

  Who knows, maybe he could teach me something.

  I stayed as late as my mind would allow me to that night and finally I headed to the front door.

  The janitor noticed me heading in th
at direction and made his way to the window.

  I figured that if I was going to try to get him to tell me all of the secrets about men, I at least needed to know his name.

  Just before heading out the door I turned back to him.

  “By the way, what’s your name?”

  “Everyone calls me Freeman,” he said.

  “Well, though you know me as Miss Young, Freeman, I’m Tori. Nice to officially meet you,” I smiled and headed out the door.

  I didn’t bother to look back because I knew that he would watch me until I was safe inside my car.

  To think about it, that was more than nice of him.

  ***

  “I know you have been through a lot but at least talk to her. Work it out. She’s still your sister and family is all that matters at the end of the day,” my mother preached.

  I heard her.

  But I didn’t care what she was saying.

  I knew eventually that I would have to speak to my sister again, but for right now, I just needed space.

  “Mama, I have to tell you something.”

  My mother looked at me attentively.

  “I’m moving away.”

  Her face expression was a mixture of frustration and confusion or maybe it was more along the lines of disapproving.

  “Tori, why are you running away? Running won’t make you forget what happened to you and running won’t heal your broken heart.”

  Mama was right, but it was a start.

  It seemed like everything and everywhere reminded me of the humiliation and betrayal that Tristan, Delilah and Cheyanne had caused me.

  I just needed to get away so that I could fully recover and get back to being me.

  I didn’t bother continuing the conversation with my mother because my mind was already made up.

  I was leaving as soon as I could and nothing was going to change my mind about it.

  After leaving my mother’s apartment, I finally decided that it was time to go back home.

  I’d gotten me another gun while I was staying at the hotel and if anyone so much as acted like they were going to bother me, they were going to be pumped full of lead before they could even make the first move.

  Walking in the front door, I felt as though I’d just walked into a funeral home.

  The house felt dead.

  It didn’t feel lively at all.

  I instantly became sad all over again.

  Yes, I was going to have to get away from here. There was just no other way around it.

  I forced myself to give the house a good cleaning and then I made myself dinner from the few items that were still in the refrigerator.

  Even cooking didn’t seem to change my mood.

  After dinner, I poured myself a glass of wine and ran myself a bath.

  I’ll admit, in my own home, I was a little bit nervous to just sit and relax in my own tub but I pushed my feelings of worry aside and forced myself enjoy the moment.

  I was so tired of thinking about the same things over and over again so I forced myself to think about the future.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for me.

  I was now thirty and my life plan wasn’t turning out the way that I’d thought that it would be.

  But I still had a chance.

  There was no point in crying over spilled milk. There was no point to still be in a state of depression.

  The old me was amazing.

  The old me was strong and could bounce back from anything.

  I loved who I was and though most times, I only had myself to depend on, myself was enough.

  I didn’t need anybody to validate me.

  I could validate my damn self.

  Tori, you are going to be just fine. You are strong, and you are beautiful. You are independent, reliable and you have more than enough to offer, anyone, at any time…anywhere.

  I reminded myself of these things over and over again.

  It seemed like the more I thought them, the more I built up my self-esteem.

  The more I thought them, the more confidence and power over my life and situation I got back.

  The more I thought them, the more that I knew that I was a winner. I could be bent, but I couldn’t be broken.

  I had always been a winner and now wasn’t the time to start losing.

  I was Tori Marie Young, and I was back!

  For the first time in what seemed like such a long time, I smiled.

  I was back.

  My life was going to get back on track and I was back to the basics.

  And speaking of, since I was back to the basics, I had a sudden idea or maybe it was a sudden urge.

  I got out of the tub and headed to my dresser.

  Well, hello Bo…I don’t know what I was thinking to have ever left you, I thought as I turned the switch to on and laid on my back to enjoy my two minutes of pleasure.

  Damn, I’d miss my Bo.

  ***

  “I hadn’t seen you smile in a long time,” the janitor, I meant, Freeman said.

  “Oh, you’d noticed?”

  “Everyone had. It was quite the buzz all over the office as to what might be going on with you,” he said.

  We were the only two left in the building, as always, and we’d starting chatting a lot more than usual.

  He was actually very smart for a janitor.

  Not rocket science smart, but smarter than I thought that he would be.

  “Well, I’m fine. All is fine.”

  He continued getting my office together and then he turned around to face me

  “Are you happily single?” he asked.

  “What made you think I was single?”

  “Oh sorry, I just assumed.”

  “You shouldn’t assume. But you’re right. I am single. And had you asked me that a while ago, I would have said no. All I thought about was finding love and wondered if the perfect love actually existed. I still don’t know the answer to that but to answer your question, yes. Yes, I’m okay with being single. Love will happen when it’s supposed to. It’s when you rush it that you end up in a bad situation,” I answered him honestly.

  “And what does a woman like you who has everything actually want when it comes to love or a man?” He asked.

  I was surprised.

  Usually I was the one asking him a thousand questions.

  I thought about his question.

  I was surprised at how much my thoughts and the way that I saw things had changed in the last month or so.

  I could have said that the perfect man had to have at least a salaried job, a 401k, no kids and a list of other things, but here lately, my list had been revised.

  “All I would want is love; real, true, and indescribable love…to hell with everything else.”

  He smiled.

  “Good answer.”

  Leaving work that night, I couldn’t help but thank God for the way that I was feeling.

  I couldn’t help but tell him how thankful that I was to be feeling like myself again, but a better, more mature version.

  I knew now that all that I had gone through had only been a test and despite all of the odds, I passed it.

  There was just one last thing that I had to do.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Tori, I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry. I---,”

  “Cheyanne?”

  My sister took a deep breath.

  “Yes?” she sobbed.

  “I love you.”

  And with that I hung up the phone.

  I wasn’t sure of what else to say or if our relationship would ever be the same, but I knew that I had to forgive her and I knew that I had to let go of the hurt that she’d caused me in order to truly be free.

  She was my sister and no matter what, she always would be. And no matter what I still loved her.

  That was it.

  I felt the last ounce of weight that had been resting on my shoulders, float away.

  E
verything was going to be just fine.

  I was sure of it.

  The next morning, I headed out the door early.

  I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep the night before.

  Today was the day that I was going to announce to everyone at work that I would be transferring to Charlotte.

  I hadn’t found a buyer for the house, since I’d talked my mother into giving up her apartment and just living in my house for free.

  I would still pay the utilities and things of that nature, and that way, if for some reason I ever wanted to come back, I wouldn’t have to go through the buying a house struggle all over again.

  But for some reason, I knew in the bottom of my heart that I was never coming back.