#HeTouchedMe – Chapter 23 – Taking Out the Trash #amwriting #amreading #sylLit

by @SylviaHubbard1, posted in He Touched Me, Stories By Author, Uncategorized, Work In Progress

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 Author’s Notes…

I’m starting to really feel this and Zuri’s ability to help herself. Even though my conundrum about Magnum and what to do with him has been going well in my mind, I’m just waiting for a reader to tell me I missed something. If I did, please let them know.

I want to thank the reader, Keisha B, for pointing out that Zuri was almost attacked. I still need to get to chapter 20 to clarify that, but for now, I have it in my notes.

If there is anything else, please let me know.

So what are your questions for this story? I have added some discussion questions at the bottom of this post to help/ especially if you’re jumping in now.

Backstory questions require you to read other chapters to understand some of this.

There are also companion stories listed at the bottom of this post, so you can become familiar with other characters that will be mentioned in this story.

By the way, there is a new Dark Romance Bundle available in my store, and A NEW STORY!

If you have time, please read them. I’d love to hear what you have to say.

It’s been a busy year-end and new year, and I still am behind. I haven’t set up my January promotions, and I definitely haven’t set up any new release or bundle promo.

I’m terrible.

But at least you guys are reading, so that’s fun to know.

Enjoy. Happy Reading. Your Author, Sylvia Hubbard

(click here to buy me a cup of coffee).

By continuing to read, you acknowledge that you are over 18. Otherwise, please leave this site and block it from your memory. If you’re a pearl-clutching heifer, please go too because I ain’t got time for that either.

Companion Books

Stealing Innocence 1

Black’s Innocence

Sin’s Iniquity

The Other Side of Love (WIP)

Tanner’s Devil

Dreams of Reality

Emperor’s Addiction / Heart

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…Enjoy. Happy Reading. Your author, Sylvia Hubbard

Chapter 23 – Taking Out the Trash

The suffocating silence of the room was shattered by the sharp click of the door latch, echoing like a gunshot in the oppressive hush. Zuri flinched at the sound, her heart pounding in her chest, as if she could still feel the pressure of FT’s fingers on her skin. She was huddled against the wall, the covers wrapped tightly around her quivering form, each rustle a ghostly whisper. Her eyes kept darting back to the door, expecting at any moment to see FT’s silhouette darken the threshold again.

She was going to assume FT must’ve stolen the extra key card from Magnum because she was sure Magnum knew nothing about his brother coming over there. FT’s actions loomed in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that his visit was deliberate, possibly driven by a need to exert control or send a message. Whatever the reason, his presence carried an unspoken threat, and its weight lingered in the room.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asked as he came into the room an hour after FT had left, flicking on the overhead lights and assessing the mess. “Fuck! Zuri! What happened?” He started to scoop her up, but she put her hands up to hold him back.

In a shaky breath, she expelled, “I’m fine.”

“Mr. Knight called me up and ordered me to check on you. What happened? Where’d those bruises come from?” He went over to the hotel phone.

She had forgotten about the marks where the cover wasn’t covering up. “Don’t call anyone,” she ordered.

“Zuri-“

“Lucas, please.” She stood up, gathering the covers. “I can’t explain everything, but I’m going to be okay. I was just shaken.”

The bodyguard folded his arms over his chest, looking disgruntled. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving this alone, knowing he could’ve hurt you, Zuri. Did he do that to you when he returned here an hour ago?” Lucas demanded to know.

Perhaps because FT had the cap low and his build was similar to Magnum’s, Lucas hadn’t noticed the difference between the brothers. She had made the mistake as well, but she had barely seen FT’s face, and they were mixing them up. “Magnum didn’t do this,” she assured him. A quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered the price of this lie, a weight that pressed heavily on her heart. “And I don’t feel like explaining anything, but it’s not on you, Lucas. It’s fine.”

“You say that, but what my eyes see, I don’t believe that.”

A knock on the hotel door startled her a bit, and she backed against the wall again, while Lucas went to answer it.

When he returned, he was carrying several bags and a brand new suitcase.

“Mr. Knight had these delivered for you. Most likely it’s to help you gather what you’ve acquired so you can move easily into his home today.” The guard looked at her with concern. “It looks like you haven’t got a single moment of sleep, and it’s going to be a long day. Are you up for it?”

“I will. We have a couple of hours before the doctor’s office, so I’m going to take a nap.”

“Yes, Ms. Carter,” Lucas said and began to leave.

She called to him. “Lucas, could you stay in the front room, please?”

He nodded and left her, closing the door behind her.

Going through the packages the bodyguard had placed on the bed, she opened the first bag and found an outfit for the day. A light cashmere white turtle neck and some creamy colored business slacks with matching shoes. This outfit would be perfect for covering up her bruises. As she ran her fingers over the soft fabric, an unsettling thought crept in. The pristine white and the creamy shades, symbols of purity and innocence, now served her as a shield to mask a disturbing truth beneath. The clothes, with their strategic use, seemed to whisper deceit, foreshadowing how appearances can be crafted to hide the chaos lurking underneath. She wondered if wearing them would grant her safety or simply disguise her vulnerability.

There was a comfortable change of clothes, more shoes, and even a night set for her, including a robe and slippers. She should be appreciative, but she knew this was only to spare her the need to explain FT’s brutality. Was he used to cleaning up his brother’s mess? And this was her reward for helping him out?

Yet how could she explain FT to anyone else? And if she tried, she would have to tell Lucas about her stupidity of leaving the hotel room to get attacked by her mother’s coworker and then debauched by FT and Magnum, and liking it.

The blush thinking about the night at the cemetery made butterflies tickle her stomach. She could never tell anyone about that.

Going into the bathroom, she immediately checked the camera on her phone to her mother’s house; it was off.

The access was gone. Would this mean her mother had only allowed her to make Zuri believe things could be fixed between them? A sharp pain pressed against the back of Zuri’s eyes.

She recalled the many times her mother had made similar false promises, lulling her into a false sense of security, only to shatter it with indifference. Maybe it was all an act, a carefully crafted facade her mother wore to manipulate and control. The thought clung to her mind, stubborn and unyielding, amplifying the throbbing behind her eyes. Migraine?

She hadn’t had one since… Forever.

She used to get them when she was young, before the drugs, and then after being pulled out by her father, she hadn’t had them. They’d disappeared.

Yet, she never thought about that life before drugs.

Now this migraine was a reminder of those times.

The arguing, fussing, and fighting she remembered her parents constantly having. If they were unhappy, then why didn’t they divorce? When their voices rose, she would bury her head under the same threadbare pillow that always brought her a small measure of comfort, its once-vibrant embroidery now faded from countless nights of muffling the noise. The ticking of the old clock by her bedside kept time with the throbbing behind her eyes, a steady reminder of the turmoil that refused to quiet down. She would always think of these moments, trying not to focus on the relentless pain behind her eyes that seemed as persistent as the clock’s ticking.

Crawling back in her hotel bed, Zuri took several deep breaths.

That was the past, her father would say. Live for the future, Zuri. Make me proud.

A couple of hours of nap would do her good for a hectic day. Being busy would keep her from thinking about her mother, FT, and this growing desire for more debauchery from Magnum.

***

With Lucas in the front room, Zuri got some deep, restorative sleep so she could get up and dress for the long day.

In the back of her mind, she wondered what Magnum was up to, and she prayed she didn’t have any more confrontations with FT.

As she was in the bathroom again, putting on the outfit Magnum had delivered, she looked over her bruises and prayed she didn’t have to get fully undressed for the doctor.

Just as she thought, the bruises on her neck were a little darker, and the ones on her body had started to turn purple. Amazingly, she was resilient and felt minor soreness.

You naughty girl.

Zuri turned around as if FT had said those words behind her, with her heart racing and fear in her mind. A chill crept through the room, brushing past her skin like a cold whisper. Just then, a phantom scent of FT’s distinctive cologne, woodsy and dark, seemed to waft through the air, further blurring the boundaries of reality. Her mind warned her of danger. No one was there, but she heard his voice as clear as day.

Where had that come from? She didn’t remember him saying that last night at the cemetery or in her bedroom.

You’re going insane, she told herself. He is trying to drive you insane.

Perhaps because she didn’t like how her brain seemed to feel that was a true memory of him saying those words to her. And at that time, they said she had liked them. Needed them. Released them.

Getting out of her head, she focused on finishing getting ready. Lucas ordered them breakfast, but she was too anxious to eat, so she forced herself to take a piece of toast and a couple of slices of bacon.

As they were getting in the elevator, she asked, “Did you see someone come into my room after my date last night?”

Lucas hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowing with concern. “Only Mr. Knight,” he answered. “Did someone else come into your room, miss?”

She didn’t want him to feel like he wasn’t doing his job. FT could have kept his head down and been mistaken for Magnum easily since they were the same build. “It’s fine,” she lied, trying to fake a smile, and was glad the elevator doors opened, and she could be escorted to the awaiting vehicle.

Dr. Chance Jefferson’s office was on the corner of Detroit’s west side. Lucas dropped her off at the door and told her he would park in the back, but wait for her in the lobby.

Zuri thanked him and went inside the doctor’s office to check in. The nurse was cordial and immediately took her to the lab station to have her blood drawn.

Glad she only needed to roll up her arm to get the results of the drug the doctor was looking for.

“Can I leave?” she asked. “And the doctor can call me about the results, right?”

“There is a note to take you to his office afterwards. He wants to talk with you about some recent events.”

Zuri frowned because other than the possible drugs snuck into her system, she couldn’t think of any recent events the doctor would have to discuss with her.

After fifteen minutes, the tall black doctor appeared in his office from the side. He’d been seeing a patient and immediately came behind his desk. Zuri had been sitting in front, trying to relax her mind and not worry about FT barging in there to terrorize her again. Despite her best efforts, the room’s atmosphere seemed to amplify her unease. The faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh, clinical glare that intensified the sterile white of the walls, making the space feel both stark and unyielding. It was as if the very air hung heavy with unspoken threats, setting her nerves on edge and mirroring the turmoil within her.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Carter. I had a priority patient I needed to see early this morning, right after I finished a shift at the hospital’s emergency ward. That’s my private room, soundproofed with a back parking-lot entrance, so people don’t know what’s going on. I didn’t expect the patient this morning and thought I’d get a few hours of sleep before I had to see you.”

Zuri was impressed because she had been sitting there the whole time and didn’t know he had been in that room with anyone. “That’s pretty nice for high-profile clients that need a lot of discretion.”

“It helps catering to these clients when I have a lot of debt,” he added.

“I thought with a private practice, you wouldn’t have to give your time to the emergency room anymore.”

Sourly, he said, “Bills have to be paid, and I kind of enjoy it except when it’s abnormally busy. Plus, it keeps me grounded to the community. I know what’s going on and not just in my private practice world,” he admitted. “Last night was a doozy.”

“Would this have something to do with recent events?” she asked in a tease.

“Actually, it does,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.

Zuri hadn’t expected him to admit that. “What happened?”

“We had a drop-off, or more like a drive-by. This is when a patient is literally dropped off at our emergency room, and the dropper doesn’t want to be identified. The police ran the plates of the van that made the drop-off, but it had stolen plates, and it was found this morning clean, meaning someone had erased all traces of everything from the vehicle.” Chance Jefferson pushed a picture of a hospital security camera where a van was speeding off, but someone was lying on the ground in dark clothing.

A chill swept through her because she remembered that body.

“His ID was in his sock,” the doctor continued. “Do you know Richie Creek?”

Her face had to have been flushed, but her mouth wouldn’t move. The name was the coworker her mother often had over at the house. “He’s a friend of my mother,” she said, flustered by memories of being at the cemetery the night before with Magnum and his vicious brother, FT. “I never spoke personally to him. He was always around the house after work with my mother, slobbering after her all the time.”

“Richie sustained multiple injuries that concerned the medical team. His facial swelling suggested significant trauma, while the condition of his hands was indicative of severe blunt force impacts. There were also signs of an assault on the lower abdomen.” The clinical tone underscored the gravity without lingering on specifics.

Zuri rushed over to the garbage can just in time as bile dragged from her stomach and out of her mouth. The bacon and toast immediately came up, along with the orange juice she had tried to drink this morning. There was no doubt who had done the torturing, but she wasn’t going to tell on FT because she’d have to explain a whole lot more.

The doctor came over with a water bottle and opened the door to the private room he’d come from. “You can rinse your mouth out over there, Ms. Carter.”

Zuri trudged to the room’s sink and did as she was instructed several times. She would need to either return to the hotel or find a place to get a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Would you know of anything that happened?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?” she demanded, annoyed.

“Because he implicated your mother and ex-fiancé’s in a scheme that was going to get rid of someone for their money and assets, but he wouldn’t implicate you. It was as if whoever tortured him made him afraid to even say your name. The police couldn’t shut him up. He was blabbing as if his life depended on it. Whoever fucked him up must’ve warned him he’d better tell the police whatever he could without ever mentioning you. I also noticed the corners of his mouth were cut, so even though his face was swollen, the cuts helped Richie speak better.”

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she accused the doctor, “You sound like the lawyer.”

“I don’t mean to unsettle you with the details of his torture – and it’s very clear someone did torture him to talk, but if Mr. Black is saying be careful, I second him in that matter. I know the cops are sending units over to bring your mother and your ex-fiancé in for questioning. I’ve seen people stabbed for ten dollars in that emergency room, so I don’t doubt that in these challenging times, people would be willing to do anything for anything at this point.”

Zuri was getting tired of telling people that they were speaking of her mother, the woman who had given birth to her. How could they speak of that same woman killing her daughter?

“I made a promise to Magnum to stay away from her, and I intend to keep it until I can get into a better position of protecting myself without ending up dead, if you were worried.”

“I’ve learned in situations like this, it’s better to have no contact at all forever if you can, Ms. Carter,” the doctor advised, reaching into his coat and pulling out a box with two tablets inside. “And this is for you as well, since you still have some water to drink. Take one now and then the other in twelve hours after a light meal.”

“What’s this for?” she questioned.

“It’s Plan B. Your suitor called early this morning and asked if I could obtain this for you since you were coming in.”

She was touched that Magnum kept track of her schedule, and then she blushed because he clearly wasn’t stupid and knew what had happened with her and his brother. He should because he watched it all.

“I understand accidents happen,” the doctor said. “But could we reinforce protections, please? I know for sure you don’t want to be tied to a man like Magnum Knight, reluctantly, for eighteen years.”

Nodding, she took the pill and then asked, “But what if I wanted to help him?”

By this time, Chance Jefferson was leaning against the sink, crouching down to her eye level so he wouldn’t look so tall. He understood that his six-and-a-half-foot height could intimidate women. “What do you mean?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and showing clear dislike already for the subject.

Zuri wasn’t deterred by his stance about Magnum Knight. “I mean, I want to do something to help him with his problem.” She didn’t mention the powder she’d been slacking at adding to his drinks. “I think I could help him with his sexual problem if I knew a little more about the male problem he has because of his alcoholism, or I’m sure you know something that could boost his stamina?”

The doctor smirked. “There are some things, but do you really want to do something like that? This is a short-term arrangement that I know you don’t want to turn into something more.”

“No, I don’t. A means to an end, just like the lawyer said, but I might as well enjoy myself while I’m there, right?”

That smirk turned to a wicked grin. “I guess I could help your pleasure, but understand it’s all about you, Zuri.”

She wasn’t that ignorant about sex that she couldn’t grasp that concept, but she had never turned the tables on a man, and this would be interesting to hear.

Half an hour later, her stomach was settled, and the doctor had to take another client, but he had given her some ‘tips,’ and her mind was swirling with ideas for Magnum.

“Thank you for the tips,” she said gratefully.

“There’s one more thing I need to ask of you, Ms. Carter,” Chance Jefferson noted. “You said snuck to get birth control from a Planned Parenthood clinic in your mother’s area.”

Shrugging, Zuri responded, “It was a community-type Planned Parenthood. A colleague at school gave me the information when I was secretly inquiring about where they got their birth control shots, so my mother wouldn’t know. It’s a lot of girls at school with strict Catholic parents, and I knew they would know.”

“Do you remember who ran the place?”

“There was this redhead who was in charge and saw mostly all the patients,’ she answered. “She was more of a nurse practitioner than a full-fledged doctor. Well, to me, she didn’t act like a doctor. She was very personable, though, and she cared without any judgment or questions. I was just glad to get my birth control shot without fighting the system or anyone finding out about it.”

“Could you give me the address? I looked up community medical centers, and I didn’t see anything in that area.”

Glad the doctor didn’t ask any more questions that could lead to her spilling the beans about her whereabouts the night before, and not seeing the harm in that, she scribbled in the notebook he provided.

Chance Jefferson thanked her and said, “I’ll give you a moment alone. This is my private room for priority patients. That other door leads to the back parking lot. I’ll let your driver know you’ll meet him back there instead of the lobby.”

As he started to leave the room, Zuri’s eyes darted around, quickly mapping her surroundings for any escape route. The private exit seemed reassuringly close, while the distance to the doctor’s main office door now felt like a mile. Her gaze flicked to the small tray of medical instruments; a scalpel lay there, its metallic gleam coldly reassuring. She measured the distance to the weapon and how fast she could reach the parking lot door if needed. Now that her life seemed in danger or there was a possibility FT would show up to terrorize her, she needed to be more aware of her surroundings. “I’ll just need a moment to rinse my mouth out a little more.”

Rummaging through a drawer, Chance pulled out a personal one-use packet of mouthwash. “This should also help,” he said before leaving and closing the door behind her.

Grateful for the moment alone, Zuri smiled to herself, looking forward to having Magnum to herself again. She’d never remembered being this excited about being with Rodney.

Leaning over the sink to rinse her mouth out, she saw the door reopen from the doctor’s office and assumed it was Chance Jefferson again. “Did you need something-” Zuri was saying as she turned, but stopped when she saw Rodney standing there in dirty dark-blue medical scrubs, a small knife in his hand, gripping it until his knuckles were almost white.

He stood between her and the private exit door, breathing heavily as if he had been running for a while. The door to the doctor’s office was closed, and she knew no amount of screaming she did would probably be heard. Sweat coated his whole body, and he was musty and dirty. The scent was sharp and metallic, mingling with a hint of fear that churned her stomach. She also saw he was wearing his house shoes, but they were covered in filth, meaning he must’ve run out, grabbing only what he could, and somehow found her. Heart pounding in her ears like a drumbeat, she noticed the dull glint of the knife Rodney held. The blade seemed to tremble in his grasp, but the threat it posed was painfully clear.

“You’re coming with me,” he snarled and jumped for her.

She knocked what was on the counter at him and tried to get around him. Rodney tried to backhand her across the face. Still, he only succeeded in knocking her pretty hard against the side of her head and rocking her eardrum, sending her equilibrium into a tizzy, giving him a chance to get his arm around her neck, pulling her back against the front of his body and the knife pointed at her neck.

Trying to claw at his arm while turning her head to the side so she could breathe, Zuri kicked out her legs and squirmed to get away.

“Stop fucking fighting, Zuri!” Rodney pressed the tip of the knife on her skin and squeezed his arm so tight she thought for sure she was going to lose consciousness.

Zuri stopped fighting so she wouldn’t black out, and Rodney quit squeezing. It was just as challenging to inhale his rancid, putrid smell, and she tried not to throw up from that as well, while still staying conscious.

“I don’t know who the fuck you know, but I do know aint nobody going to torture my ass like they did Richie,” he fulminated. “And I ain’t going to be someone’s bitch like Richie. I ain’t going out like that! Now, quit fucking playing and take me to your father’s box or I swear I’ll shove this damn knife all the fucking way in your throat, Zuri! I fucking swear!”

Wincing, feeling the pressure of the knife on the side of her throat, Zuri could feel that Rodney was at the end of his rope. No pleading, no amount of persuading, was going to help her.

No one could hear her, and no one could help her!

End of This Chapter | Post your thoughts in the comments | Let the author know what’s going on in your head

He Touched Me (c) 2026 Sylvia Hubbard All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Fiction readers might ask

Character motivation · What exactly drives FT’s actions and his relationship with Zuri?

Backstory clarity · What happened between Zuri, FT, and Magnum at the cemetery and before this chapter?

Mother’s role · What is Zuri’s mother’s true involvement in the scheme and her relationship with Zuri?

Rodney’s intentions · Why is Rodney so desperate, and what is the significance of ‘your father’s box’?

Emotional aftermath · How will Zuri cope with the trauma and secrets after this confrontation?

Published by @SylviaHubbard1

AUTHOR, MOTHER, SPEAKER, JOURNALIST, CONSULTANT & MORE! Divorced Mother of three, Detroiter, Sylvia Hubbard, is not only an award winning best selling author of over 28 books, but also founder of one of Michigan's largest interactive literary community, The Motown Writers Network/The Michigan Literary Network.

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