’Til Death Do Us Part: A Second Chance Novel

By Cassandra Adams

Dakota Lewis is determined to never live the same life as her mothera sheltered housewife mistreated by her abusive husband. As she heads off to Columbia University on a full scholarship, Dakota is excited to begin a new life inspired by her love of God.

Two years later, Dakota gets involved with Rakiem Bennett, a martial artist with a heart of gold and a dream of one day managing a dojo that will provide an escape for at-risk children. But Dakota sees other plans for their future, setting off a series of disagreements that prompts her to doubt their relationship.

As she battles her own problems and worsening family burdens, Dakotas prayers are left unanswered, leaving her to question her faith in God. She then meets Dominique, a successful entrepreneur who quickly sweeps her off her feetand discovers Rakiems infidelity, leading her to choose Dominique as her life partner. But it is not long before Dakota finds herself in the midst of her worst fear: trapped in an abusive marriage, just like her mother.

In this emotional tale, a woman desperate to escape her madness must learn to rely on her faith and inner strength to break a cycle of abuse as she seek her true destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781480802346

Cassandra Adams

Cassandra Adams studied at Columbia College Chicago and enjoys using her writing skills to enlighten and entertain. She resides in Chicago with her husband, daughter, two sons, and her dog, Rocky. Visit her online at www.cassandra-adams.com.

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Copyright © 2013 Cassandra Adams.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-0233-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-0235-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-0234-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013916364

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/9/2013

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chicago, 1994

Chapter Two

New York, 1996

Chapter Three

Chicago, 2002

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Las Vegas, 2007

Chapter Eleven

Chicago, 2007

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Atlanta, 2009

Chapter Sixteen

Chicago, 2009

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Wisconsin 2010

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chicago, 2011

Chapter Twenty Three

Wisconsin, 2011

Chapter Twenty Four

Chicago, 2012

Wisconsin, 2012

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chicago

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chicago, 2013

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

I like to dedicate this book to my mother, my two fathers, my brother, and my grandmother. Death may have limited your physical presence, but your spirit will always exist in my heart.

Prologue

N ever again! Dakota shifted the covers from over her and eased out of bed. She slipped into her clothes and took one last look at what used to be her loving husband. After making her way to the nursery where the child was sleeping, she silently swaddled her into a tiny bundle of joy. Then, she descended the stairs to the front door, carrying nothing but the baby and a getaway bag swung over her back. Her fingers trembled over each key to disable the alarm. The night air swept cool against her skin as she cuddled the baby close and stepped out into the darkness. Suddenly, she felt his presence from behind and winced at the grip of her hair clutched in his fist.

Where do you think you’re going, Koty? He spit words at her like hot anger.

No, let me go.

Get back here! He demanded, and tightened his grip to give her hair another yank. Her hands flung up in agony, and the child fell to the ground like a sack of dead meat. Dakota dropped to her knees to comfort the child’s pain, but Dominique grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her from the baby’s reach and into the ready-made prison he created for her. She yelled out for help but her cry landed on death ears. She kicked, bit, and scratched with every ounce of energy she could muster up. Then, he drew his gun…

Good morning. The cheery face nurse strolled into the room and woke Dakota from what seemed like an endless nightmare. Dakota squinted at her powder blue scrubs and squeaky white clogs as the nurse wheeled a mobile workstation against her bed. Her injured body was connected to needles and tubes, and her heart struck violent against her chest. Her eyes followed the nurse over to the window where she separated the mint green curtains. Dakota flinched at the glare of sunlight that suddenly burned her swollen eyes.

How are you feeling today Mrs. Durham? She mindlessly asked, adjusting Dakota’s pillow to make her more comfortable. Does it hurt when you talk?

Dakota closed her eyes and nodded in distress.

It’s okay. I completely understand. The nurse’s words were full of sympathy. She ripped a fresh syringe from its package and applied it to the IV. Then, she squeezed water through the tiny tube. Dakota grimaced at the sting of cold fluid that ran up her hand. I know it stinks to flush your veins, but I promise the discomfort won’t last long. She inspected a few other tubes for signs of backup drainage. Then, she checked her temperature, for about the fifth time in the last twenty-four hours. Hmm, that fever just won’t break, She said, and ran a few other tests before she added a dose of medication to Dakota’s IV. The doctor will be in shortly. She assured before she left the room. Dakota felt drained as she closed her eyes and wondered if the cheery faced nurse really understood her situation.

Good morning Mrs. Durham, I’m Doctor Koziac. His sudden voice startled her after she dozed off from the dose of medicine the nurse had given her earlier. The short bald man wore a three-quarter’s length doctor’s coat with his name neatly sewn into the fabric. I’d like to discuss a few matters with you. His eyes were full of compassion. Your tests came back fine; however, I’m concerned about your high blood pressure and that persistent fever that just won’t break.

He pulled a clipboard from under his arm and sighed heavily. Dakota felt humiliated as if she could read his thoughts. She knew it would be just a matter of time before her life ended this way. There were far too many visits, in the past, consisting of bumps and bruises, identified as domestic violence disputes. This time it had gone too far, leaving her with several gunshot wounds pumped in her body. She had also suffered a broken collar bone, blackened eye, and put her unborn child in harm’s way. I recovered all but one bullet lodged in your chest cavity. Due to massive swelling, I didn’t want to risk further complications. His eyes scanned over the chart again. I’d like to have you stay a few more nights for observations. He suggested, without eye contact.

Ma-ba-be… Dakota struggled with her words, and Doctor Koziac caught on right away. He dropped his eyes in sadness, I’m sorry Mrs. Durham, but your child wasn’t strong enough to pull through. He waited for her reaction, but words couldn’t convey the pain that ripped through her heart. He placed his hand on her shoulder and watched as the tears slid down her face, I’m very sorry. He told her, and quietly walked away.

CHAPTER ONE

Chicago, 1994

S tevie tapped at Dakota’s bedroom door and invited himself in before she could utter a word.

Well, come in, why don’t you. She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth.

I don’t mind if I do. He flopped down in a chair across from her bed, where she sat bent over one knee, polishing her toenails. So I heard you’re going to Columbia after graduation.

And you heard right, she replied, brushing the crimson red polish down the middle of her nail without lifting an eye. Dakota worked hard toward her full scholarship admission and was excited about leaving home to live in New York. She planned to attend the fall semester in a few weeks, majoring in journalism slash public relations, as she liked to describe it.

Stevie shook his head and chuckled at his own thought. You’ve always wanted to be a reporter.

What do you mean?

Do you remember how you used to hold that stupid hairbrush up to my face pretending to interview me?

Yeah, you were the basketball star everyone wanted to sign. She laughed. Man, those were the days. She stopped and thought about how their father lost his job and shortly after developed a drinking habit that ruined their happy home. Most nights he’d come in intoxicated, stumble over furniture, and then he’d pass out. And there were other times he’d come in and blame their mother for everything that didn’t go his way. Then he’d become abusive toward her. Stevie, you just don’t know how bad I want to leave this place. She turned back to polishing her nails but then her eyes caught the sadness in his. She sat up straight and cupped a hand over her mouth. I’m sorry. Here I am, selfishly glorifying about getting away from my distressful life here without even considering you and Mama. You just don’t know how I wish I could take you both with me.

Don’t sweat it. Everything’s going to be aw’ight. Besides, I can hold down my own, and no matter what Mama says, old Mr. Lewis will be dealt with the next time he put his hands on her. Stevie decided to stop calling him Dad the first time he saw him chastise their mother. I got to fulfill my own dreams, he flicked up his shirt collar, now that I’m an up-and-coming basketball star."

Up-and-coming my foot. You better hope you get into somebody’s college ’cause the way I see it, your life is going to spiral downhill real fast, hanging around that crew of yours.

Oh, please. He waved her off. Don’t go tripping with all that jive talk about my friends. Y’all sleep on a brutha. I already got my stuff lined up. Scouts from all over been eyeing me the whole semester. My game is tight and on the money. He shot an imaginary three-pointer in the wastebasket across the room. Dakota had to admit Stevie had mad skills in basketball, starring as the point guard and captain since his freshman year. However, she grew concerned about his friends pulling him down. Stevie began hanging out with them during the first part of his senior year. He would stay out all times of the night and constantly deny his smoking and drinking habits, even when the stench lingered in his clothes. Only God knows what else he’s out there doing, Dakota shook her head. She prayed many nights that his oversized ego wouldn’t cause him to lose sight of what really mattered.

Spread your wings, son, ’cause you’re about to fly. He basked in his own glory.

Yeah right, she sucked her teeth. With that attitude, the only place you’ll be flying to is Micky D’s, wasting your life away flipping burgers. You need to focus on your career, and leave them hoodlums in the streets.

Dang, D, why you got to be coming down on my boys like that?

All I’m saying is that you need to be careful who you claim as your friends. Not everybody wants to see you succeed. Their only interest is that you be down with them for whatever.

A broad smile pulled across Stevie’s face. Don’t worry, Sis. Ain’t nobody taking my dream from me.

All I’m saying is to be careful—and be smart.

Girl, you sound like one of those TV commercials: ‘Be careful and be smart.’ He mimicked a deep voice and then laughed. You just wait. Before long, our mailbox would flood with offers from Purdue, Illinois, LSU, Florida State, Syracuse, Texas— Stevie counted on his fingers the list of schools that had already scouted him.

Yeah, right.

You know it’s true.

Boy, stop dreaming out loud. You’ll be lucky to graduate high school at the rate you’re going.

Please, you better believe it’s going to happen. He picked up her nail polish and studied the bottle as if a magic genie were about to pop right out and grant him three wishes. Then he shook his head in pity. It’s a shame how you be hating on a brutha ’cause he’s a legend in his own time. Dakota grabbed her neck and pretended to choke on his words. But he simply ignored her and kept talking. That’s all right, though. He rolled up the paper bag her nail polish came in and flicked a floater at the wastebasket. It soared through the air and landed right in. That adorable smile melted across his face again. And the crowd roars! He cheered himself on. All net, baby. All net, he said before leaving the room.

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The time had finally rolled around, and Dakota couldn’t calm the butterflies in her stomach. She checked her appearance in the mirror to see if her black skirt, purple tights and top, were in place. She looked over her makeup that was applied with a light hand, just to enhance her beauty. Around her neck, was a strand of borrowed pearls from her mother’s jewelry collection that once belonged to her late grandmother. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her mother’s face when she finds out that her daughter would be singing with none other than the Canton Spirituals, Mrs. Lewis’s favorite gospel group.

The small storefront church filled up fast, and Dakota wondered if anyone from the choir had spilled the beans about their secret guest. She sat in the front row with her mother and Stevie. It was a shame how she had to beg him on hands and knees to come. She didn’t want to let either one of them know she was singing with the choir.

Shout hallelujah, and praise the Lord! Reverend Benjamin always knew how to dig deep down into his gospel roots and rock the bricks off the church. The raggedy hand-painted sign, identifying it as Holy Rock Baptist, hung pitiful over the entry way. The sweet hymn of the choir rang out into the streets, inviting broken souls in to give their lives to God. But today was not like any typical Sunday where praise and worship were carried out amid crimes committed in the surrounding neighborhood. The congregation constantly kept an eye out for fallen angels, who moseyed in from the darkness of their minds in search of some heavenly light. The deacon board was willing to offer guidance, hope, and in some cases, restoration in the name of Jesus Christ, particularly for the young men in the neighborhood.

Y’all know what I’m talkin’ about, Reverend Benjamin bellowed out in his rich tone, interrupting anyone who may have drifted away from his sermon. We’re not tired yet! We got work to do, he reminded the congregation. No matter who you are, where you came from, or where you’re going in life. No matter what you’re battling at this current moment, remember you are now a soldier, and because of that, you are constantly at war with the enemy. He flipped the pages of his Bible and looked out at the congregation, Everybody, please turn to Ephesians, chapter 6, verse 11. His eyes fell on the pages of his own Bible. Scripture commands us to put on the full armor of God and take our stand not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of the dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. It’s time to stand up and take back what the devil has stolen from us. Put on the full armor of God, and tell that old devil that you ain’t going to put up with his nonsense anymore. The congregation was filled with joy as their eyes looked up toward heaven. With raised arms and shouts of praise, they offered thanks to the Lord. Shield yourselves, Reverend Benjamin went on. We’re in a spiritual battle! We must keep fighting for the victory! There were shouts of, Amen, and, Thank you, Jesus, offered up to God.

Deacon Butler winked at Dakota as a hint to join their surprise guest in the back. It’s show time, she mumbled and let out a deep sigh to calm her nerves. She told her mother she’d be back, but Mrs. Lewis waved her off. She was too busy focusing on the choir that was about to sing her favorite song, from her favorite group, to pay Dakota any mind. The choir began to sway and clap their hands as they chanted softly, Take a stand, take a stand, take a stand. The congregation came to their feet and joined in, clapping their hands and moving to the music. Take a stand, take a stand, take a stand. Then Mrs. Lewis heard the voice of her daughter flowing from the speakers. It’s time for the church to get up! Come on y’all, take a stand! Dakota’s voice came through, clearly demanding everyone to take a stand as she walked out to join the choir. If you believe our God is an awesome God, get up and take a stand! I said if you believe our God is a magnificent God, get up and take a stand! The crowd was full of energy with everybody coming to their feet and clapping their hands with a little more enthusiasm. Then the musicians cranked up a toe-tapping, hand-clapping beat that brought on a lot of shouting and praising, with hands swaying, and heads slanted back with shouts of, Hallelujah, and Thank you, Jesus!

Come on, Dakota was pumped with energy. The Canton Spirituals strolled out to join her, and Mrs. Lewis could not believe her eyes. Dakota sang into the microphone, sweeter than any angel in heaven as her mother smiled on. Mrs. Lewis knew, just as well as Dakota, that the choir was the heart of the church; the substance that breathed life back into dead souls. Nothing moved the people more than those harmonious voices, spreading a joyous emotion over tambourines, and stringed instruments. She was doubly overjoyed at the sight of The Canton Spirituals, right there, in their little old church, singing alongside her baby girl. Mrs. Lewis knew how the church always found ways to surprise their members with momentous events, but this, she beamed, was more than icing on the cake. It was the whole cake.

Lord, I know there’s going to be a change for somebody in here today. Mrs. Lewis grinned and gazed at her firstborn, singing that song as if it’s her own. She shouted out in a joyful praise, Thank you, Jesus! Then she lifted her eyes to heaven and offered adoration to the Highest of the High. Dakota, filled with the Holy Spirit, beamed at her mother, who was swaying and lifting her hands up to the Lord. Even Stevie was feeling the vibe, bobbing his head and clapping to the music.

The choir lined up according to height, and their silky robes were dipped in ivory satin with a blueberry trim. They shifted with hunching shoulders, left to right, and their pleated sleeves shuddered with each thunderous clap as they continued to swing, left to right. Dakota was full of joy, not only because she surprised her mother and brother, she had also moved the entire congregation into a jubilant, sanctified celebration as they sang, This world would be a better place, if the church just take a stand. We need to stop putting the blame on other folks, get up and take a stand.

CHAPTER TWO

New York, 1996

D akota finally made it to her dorm room carrying the seven books, and a few extra items she will need to tackle the five classes she decided to master for the semester. It would be her second year at Columbia, and she intended to make it successful. But five classes, really . She turned the key to the door of her dorm room and dropped everything she was carrying on the bed, including herself.

Hi, you must be Dakota? Her roommate leaned forward over the desk to stretch her hamstring. Dakota leaped up, startled by her presence.

I am, she said, clutching her chest to catch her breath. And you must be Montana? Dakota sat back down to settle her nerves.

You got it. Montana strolled over and took a seat at the desk facing her. She wore a blue and white sorority hoodie over a pair of black leggings with blue leg warmers scrunched over a pair of blue and white Nike track shoes. Her hair was full of bouncy tresses pulled back into a ponytail, with a couple of loose curls that kissed the nape of her neck whenever she walked. A thin layer of perspiration covered her tawny face that equals the color of champagne. Her made-up eyes were in shades of blue, complementing the colors in her outfit. They were soft brown eyes, slanted like almonds, and depicting the hint of Chinese that ran through her veins. A red Charms blow pop swiveled between her glossy cherry lips that flattered her flawless complexion. She could pass for a model, even on her worse day, Dakota thought, guessing her height around five eleven or so. She crossed her curvy legs, and after giving the candy a few more twirls, Montana said, Hey, Isn’t it ironic how we both are named after states? Dakota pulled a fake smile and Montana frowned at the books strewn over her bed. What are you trying to do, deprive yourself of any fun around here?

Dakota followed Montana’s eyes to the scatter of books. Oh that. Girl, I’m just trying to take care of business.

I see, her brow furrowed, and you also plan to have no social life. She picked up one of the books and read the title out loud, Understanding Literature.

Dakota took the book from her and stacked them in a pile on the desk. There’s nothing wrong with literature. You should try it sometimes.

Not me, she pulled the lollipop from her mouth. I’m sticking to what I know. Track and field became her interest since she had the opportunity to meet Florence Griffith Joyner back in grade school. She was taken, not only by her speed, but also her hair, nails, and one-legged outfits she wore. She slid the sucker back in her mouth and gave it a few twirls, and then she plopped it out again. But I’ll tell you what. If I ever happen to run across a class that involves Franz Kafka or Ernest Hemingway, I’ll be sure to look you up."

Yeah, right, Dakota rolled her eyes.

Well, what you need to do is put all of those books away and hang out with me tonight. Have you ever been to a frat party before? She asked, walking back to her side of the room. She pulled a pair of black denim jeans from the drawer.

No, I can’t say I have, but I heard enough to stay away from them.

Montana gave her a droop stare. Now, I’m sure you know better not to believe everything you hear. It’s going to be off the chain, with DJs battling head-on, and frat brothers and sorority sisters, including yours truly, stomping it out. She puckered her lips and cocked her head to the side.

Sounds wonderful, but even if there isn’t any truth to what I heard, I still can’t go. I’m overwhelmed with all of these assignments. She noticed Montana’s style that included name brand everything, from the clothes she wore to the brand of cosmetics she used. Besides, that’s not my thing." She told her.

Sure it is. I could fix your hair, and make your face up… Montana sensed the disinterest in Dakota’s eyes. She sucked on hercandy again and then pulled it from her mouth. Well, if you change your mind, just let me know.

Yeah, right, Dakota said, before Montana left the room.

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He’s the next best thing since Bruce Lee, with a body built to last, like an American machine. He’s named the best in martial