She’d known living without Angel would be hard company wise. After all, Angel had been her constant companion for the past five years, but she had not anticipated the return of the fear.
The same fear she’d experienced when she first arrived in Miami from Atlantic City and settled into their first home. Although she never told Kandi, a small part of Mikayla had always believed the man who attacked her, Vega, would hunt her down and finish the job after his trial ended in a hung jury. Her only comfort had been the knowledge that he would have to go through Angel to do it. After their first encounter, Mikayla was certain Vega would not want to tango with Angel again.
But without the sound of Angel’s claws clacking against the vinyl floor in the kitchen as she patrolled from room to room every night, that comfort no longer existed. The fear had returned.
She lay wake at night listening to the sounds of the dark, and praying she was alone. And after just two weeks, she wasn’t sure she could live like that for six more days, let alone six more weeks. Whether Dusty had been successful in retraining her or not, Mikayla was strongly considering bringing her pet home.
Which was why Mikayla doubted she was ready to return Dusty’s obvious interest, or any other man’s for that matter. Just look at the way she’d reacted when he took her to meet his dogs. As soon as he turned that cart in the direction of his house the fear had crept into her being. She’d managed to conquer it, as she had to so often. But still, to her embarrassment, he’d gotten a brief glimpse of her terror.
How was she to have any kind of a relationship with a man when every time he touched her she froze up?
No, despite whatever attraction she had for the good doctor, what she told Kandi was right. The only thing she wanted from Dusty Warren was a well-managed pet.
On her first visitation day Mikayla awoke with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. Not only was she going to get to see Angel today, but before that she had a seminar in Fort Lauderdale she was really looking forward to.
She dressed in a dark suit and put her hair up in a French roll. She tried to cover the bags under her eyes with makeup but there was only so much Cover Girl bronzer could do.
As she applied the makeup in the bathroom mirror, she stopped for a moment and just examined her reflection. She’d come so far from the girl she once was. Her face was thinner, her hair shorter, and much lighter than before…how different she looked now. She wondered if her friends back in her old neighborhood in New Jersey would even recognize her?
She thought about those friends and wondered where they were today. The group of girls she’d hung out with, they’d all had so little, and hungered for so much. It was hard being poor in a place like Atlantic City. Watching the high rollers come and go in their expensive cars and expensive clothes, and there they were, just some poor locals craving a taste of that life.
Mikayla briefly wondered about her mother; it was not with the love of a child for a parent, but more idle curiosity. It had been a long time since Mikayla had loved her mother. Back before Mikayla came into puberty and the full extent of her future beauty began to shine through.
Instead of taking pride in her beautiful child, Regina Wilson had seen her daughter as a future rival for the male attention she enjoyed, and treated her only child as such. Even going so far as attempting to sell fifteen-year-old Mikayla to what she thought was a pimp and who turned out to be an undercover cop.
Mikayla knew nothing of her mother’s plan until the cops came to take her into protective services. Three ounces of cocaine. That’s what her mother valued her life at.
Mikayla was turned over to a foster care family that was already overloaded with the eight other foster children living in the home. But this arrangement worked out well for Mikayla because it allowed her to come and go as she pleased.
Even the memories felt like she was looking at someone else’s life. She applied a thin coat of lipstick, straightened up the house a little, and taking her attaché, headed out to the car. She was due in Fort Lauderdale in less than an hour.
When her friend, Nisha, told her how much she could make stripping at the Godiva club where she worked, Mikayla had not believed it. But when Nisha later that year bought a sixty-thousand-dollar car at age eighteen, Mikayla was convinced.
She took the stage name Tangie after the nickname a former boyfriend had given her. He’d claimed she was just the right combination of sugar and salt. Before long Tangie found it was not just the money she enjoyed, but the addictive feeling of power her beauty gave her over men. It didn’t take her long to realize that with a smile and the promise of more, there was little she could not have.
Nisha had also given her a piece of advice that Mikayla had brushed off and would later regret not heeding. Make sure they know you’re teasing.
Nisha had warned that as long as the patrons understood it was just a game of cat and mouse everybody went home happy. But when the men that came to the club began to believe the dancers liked them, things could get complicated. When one of the club’s regulars brought her a pair of four-carat diamond earrings, Mikayla had let that bit of advice go in one ear and out the other.
His name was Vega, or at least that’s what he told the girls to call him, and when he started coming to the club it was once or twice a week until it was almost every night.
He would sit at the bar and watch Tangie with an obsessive intensity. An intensity so fierce the bouncer, T.J., had warned her to steer clear, because he sensed the guy was dangerous.
But Tangie’s jewelry collection was growing by the week and all with just the promise that one day she’d let him sleep with her. But Vega became impatient and more aggressive until he was banned from the club.
She had a small apartment a few blocks from the club, so most nights she just walked, because even though the club had security, theft still occurred and she did not want to put her uninsured Lexus on the lot.
The first week after he was banned, Tangie was careful, watching around her as she walked home, knowing Vega might try something. But when almost a month went by without incident she let her guard down.
And that’s when he attacked.
Even five years later, Mikayla could still feel the pain as he shoved a knife into her ribs and beat her in the face with his fist. She could still feel the intense fear as she believed her life was about to end. She could still feel the terror as he forced her to the ground and tried to rape her.
Then there were these sounds around her as Vega fell back off her. Through her swollen eyes she could not make out what was happening, but the sounds eventually became distinguishable. There was the snarling and growling of a dog, chaos and commotion as the man and dog fought. Vega’s shouts of pain as the dog bit into his legs, his arms any part of the man she could reach. A heartbreaking yelp of pain as Vega managed to slice the dog with the knife. The sounds of Vega trying to get away. Mikayla thought the dog would follow and finish him off, but instead she stayed with Mikayla, barking her displeasure at the man’s retreating back. And then the silence.
Mikayla could hear the dog’s claws against the concrete as she paced. Her furry head nudged Mikayla until she moved. Seeming satisfied she was still alive, the dog continued her pacing, and Mikayla struggled to hold on to consciousness.
Later she would be told the attack lasted a few minutes, but to Mikayla those moments seemed an eternity. It may have been a few minutes but it was long enough to change her whole life.
While they waited for help, the dog would pace a while, then sit with her a while, and then pace some more. Mikayla thought this beast that came to her rescue would be the last thing she saw so she shared her soul’s confession.
Mikayla