Chapter 5 Cornered

DARLENE'S POV

My hands shook for the umpteenth time as I dialed Roman’s number. The sound of the ringing tune gave a familiar beep that sent a feeling of dread down my belly.

He blocked me! Roman blocked me.

“Lana, please hurry.” I urged, casting a quick glance at her worried face as she drove. My mind was churning wildly, and at the same time, my heart burned.

Roman not only cheated on me, but he also broke up with me, sent me to jail, and is now suing me for hurting his baby mama and child. She was practically fine when we left the hospital.

What the hell was going on?

We arrived at the property estate only to be stopped at the gate.

“What is the meaning of this? I live here.” I let out an angry hiss and stepped out of the vehicle furiously.

“Not anymore. You don’t. The owner of the building you’re trying to access informed us you were likely to show up and to grant you no entry.” The security man spoke.

What?

“On what grounds?” Lana asked, barely concealing her anger. “The property is in Mr Roman Hayes name.”

My face turned pale instantly, and my feet nearly gave way. I would have fallen if not for the support of the car doors.

Lana turned to me in a flash, eyes questioning. “Don’t tell me you kept only his name on the deed.”

Tears spilled down my face as I shook my head in defeat.

I am finished!

“Oh my goodness! Darlene! How could you?” she half-screamed, half-roared in my ears. I was already shaking, dialing Roman’s number again even though a part of me knew the line wasn’t going to connect.

“Darlene, talk to me!” She urged.

“He said it was better that way. We were going to get married. It only seemed normal to have it under his name since what is his is mine.”

“What?!” Lana exclaimed furiously, like she just heard the dumbest shit! And I know how it sounds.

“Look, Miss, you need to leave the premises. We can’t let you in unless the property owner gives us a go-ahead, and that’s Mr Hayes.”

Lana turned to me. “Get in the car.”

“But I have to see him.” I pleaded.

“We are going to the company,” she answered angrily.

On our way to the company, she berated me endlessly and started drilling me for answers on our finances and other expenses. Sadly, I operated a joint account with Roman. All my earnings, including my salary, went to the joint account.

Lana gave me a long look, then turned her attention to the road. “I don’t need to spell it out for you, girl, but you are fucked. And you need to lawyer some shit up. This breakup, his wedding announcement, the pregnancy, cutting you off the property, I bet if you checked the joint account, you won’t have access to it.” She said as we walked towards the entrance of the building.

As soon as we approached, the security men stopped us and asked us to show our entrée badge. I didn’t need one. I was practically management in this building, and I paid their damn salaries.

Oh wait! Nothing was documented.

“I don’t have one. I need to speak with Roman real quick.

“I’m sorry, Miss, I can't let you in,” he said, standing to guard my way. Anger surged within me, and I flared up. My obvious displeasure brought the attention of several employees inside the building, and they all stood to watch as the security stopped me from entering the building. While the argument was still on, some police men approached. It was clear that they had been contacted.

“Miss Richard, please come with us.” One of the officers spoke. His expression was flat and detached. It was as though he was looking past me. I turned to Lana for help. My face twisted painfully at the new pattern of my life.

I didn’t move and summoned every bravado I could muster.

“What for?” I asked.

“Miss Richard, you’re under arrest for the attack on Miss Barbara Mills resulting in the loss of her child. We’re taking you in.” He reached over and pressed me against the hood of the car, then cuffed my hands in front of everyone.

I looked around in fear, searching for Lana, noticing how the company lobby was now crowded with staff, people I had worked with, people whose lives I’d tried to make better, people whom I helped build, and not one person could speak up for me. Instead, they watched this like it was a scene from a known movie series.

“It’s alright, Darlene. I’m here with you. I’ll be following closely, alright? She hurried over to her vehicle as the officer nudged me into the police van.

“I didn’t hurt anybody,” I spoke out, hoping they would understand. But