Cookie always thought – as anyone who knew Cookie would think – that if a man ever put his hands on her, she would be on his ass like Anika on random dick. By the time Cookie was sitting in an emergency room in Staten Island having her ribs X-rayed and repeatedly refusing a rape kit, Cookie was already down the rabbit hole, wondering how in the world she got there in the first place.
It started off small. The harsh way Angelo spoke to her sometimes. The demanding questions. The way he would go through her things – first her cabinets, then her purse, then her phone. Angelo also wanted to know where she was at all times. He popped up at the Empire building unannounced, then her apartment. The surprise visits were sweet to her at first. He would bring her lunch. They would listen to music or talk about Angelo's campaign or Cookie's latest projects. They would make love in her office or just hold each other and fall asleep on the couch. Anything for them to spend some time together.
As time went on, Angelo started criticizing what Cookie wore and how she talked. The things that Angelo used to love about her – the things that gave him a boost in the polls thanks to the "Cookie effect" – were the things Angelo was starting to dislike about her. Do you have to be so loud? Why do you talk like a hoodrat? Don't you know anything? They're not laughing with you - they're laughing at you. Go change your dress. Take those loud-ass earrings off and put on some smaller ones. And get rid of those ghetto-ass fingernails.
Angelo also demanded that she stop using the name Cookie. "You're going to be a first lady," he said. "Why do you have a nickname that sounds like I picked you up from the street corner?"
"You didn't mind my name when it was helping your campaign." Cookie absolutely refused to change her name, but when Angelo started calling her Lori, Cookie answered him every time. It was his special name for her, as Porsha learned the hard way. "You don't call her that!" Angelo thundered when Porsha, thinking that Cookie had changed her name, respectfully called her Lori. "Only I can call her that. You understand? Do you understand!?" he yelled when Porsha didn't answer fast enough.
Porsha notwithstanding, Angelo was loved by everyone. Even Porsha forgave him when he gave her a Coach gift card and an apology card. Angelo was charming and witty, gregarious and intelligent. He had a big heart and deep pockets, and he loved to share his fortune with everybody. Even Lucious warmed up to Angelo once he realized that Coocious or Luckie or whatever the hell they were being called this week was dead. "Ooh, you got a good man, Cookie!" the women would say time and time again when Angelo showed up with flowers or an intimate lunch for two, always with a charming smile. "I wish I could get me an Angelo!"
Angelo loved Cookie, but there was one woman who was a threat to their relationship: Anika. Angelo loved Anika, and it appeared that Anika loved Angelo. If Cookie was busy or unavailable, one could always the two of them hanging out in the conference room or the foyer, just laughing it up. Anika was the kind of woman born to be a first lady. Cookie was not.
Anyone could see how enchanted Angelo was by Anika. Ever since meeting Anika, Angelo couldn't get the bougie debutante off his mind. Why can't you act more like Anika? Why don't you dress like Anika? Why don't you talk to Anika about how to act like a lady?
"Why don't you go be with Anika?" Cookie interrupted one day. "Since you want me to act like Anika so damn bad."
"Because I love you, Cookie," Angelo said charmingly. "I just want you to be the best you that you can be, that's all." Which was why he was always correcting her speech, handing her this book and that book to read, staying on Cookie about her diet and exercise and always reminding her to put on her sunscreen. After all, Angelo's mother Diana joked, two dark-skinned people wouldn't look good together.
Cookie couldn't remember when her relationship with Angelo got physical. Like everything else, it started off subtle. A firm squeeze here, a hard smack on the ass there, a mush upside the head that was a little too stiff. Cookie did all the same things, so she never thought about those red flags that were waving as high as Anika's legs up in the air. About three months into their relationship, Angelo kicked Cookie underneath a table one night after she'd said something he didn't like. Cookie laughed it off and kicked him back, but her stomach twisted into knots when she saw how angry Angelo looked. That night, Cookie took off her pantyhose and a deep, ugly bruise stared back up at her. Cookie shrugged it off and never thought about it again.
The first time Angelo actually hit Cookie was when she fixed him a root beer float that he said had too much root beer in it. They'd been engaged for two weeks by then. "It's a root beer float, Angelo," Cookie pointed out. "How could there be too much root beer in a root beer float?"
"This isn't a float, Cookie. It's root beer with a little ice cream in it. I swear to God...what kind of dumb bitch can't even make a fucking float?"
Cookie bristled at the word bitch. It wasn't the first time he'd called her a bitch, but it was the first time he'd used it as an insult. "You won't let my fat ass eat ice cream anymore, remember?" she reminded Angelo sarcastically. "You want a float, go make it yourself. You know where the kitchen is." Cookie's head was hurting from lack of food. It seemed like no matter what she ate or how much weight she lost, Angelo was always nagging her about her weight - this, while Cookie's home cooking was causing Angelo's pants to get a little tighter.
Angelo stood up and poured the dessert right on the floor. "I don't even want one anymore. Fuck it."
It was another Angelo's childish little temper tantrums, but he'd crossed the line this time. "Clean it up!" Cookie screamed, and she slapped Angelo, same as she would've slapped Lucious or anybody else.
Angelo slapped her back, twice as hard. "You clean it up!"
The pain exploded across Cookie's cheek, bent her neck, set her face on fire and sent her sprawling to the floor. In all her life, Cookie had never been slapped across the face before, not even by her foul-tempered mother. Before Cookie could react, Angelo was kneeling next to her, kissing her over and over and apologizing, even crying. It was the election, he said. It was his mother, he said. He was just protecting himself, he said, and why did she make him do these kinds of things? He loved her. He loved her. He loved her. Didn't she know that? And she had hit him first...
The night Angelo first hit Cookie was also the first time Cookie left her body while Angelo made love to her. Angelo grunted and moaned above Cookie, right there on melted ice cream and soda on the floor, not noticing that Cookie was fighting back tears and not reacting to his kisses. The next day, Angelo bought her a brand new coffee table and couch. Cookie loved them, but every time she looked at them, she thought about her stinging face and her back down in the sticky, freezing dessert on the floor.
One good thing came out of the whole ordeal, however: Cookie never made another watery root beer float. She also never ate one again for the rest of her life.
At that time, Cookie wasn't afraid of Angelo, but embarrassed by the situation she was in. She could just imagine what people would say if they knew that Cookie was with a man who hit her. Not Cookie Lyon. Cookie would blow his brains out. You know Cookie don't take no shit. She's not that stupid.
The most logical suggestion, of course, would be to tell Lucious what was going on. Lucious would shut everything down in no time, Cookie knew. But Cookie didn't want anybody to know what was happening. Cookie Lyon being beaten by her lover? It was unthinkable. Not to mention that this would be the second time Lucious bailed her out of trouble with a shady lover - the first was a Puerto Rican scam artist who was found floating down the Husdon River. I'm a big girl, Cookie thought time and time again. I can take care of myself.
At first, Cookie always fought back - shove for shove, kick for kick, curse for curse. She was Cookie Lyon, after all, and Cookie Lyon didn't take no shit. But Angelo was quicker and stronger, and he could shut down an argument before it even got started. His shoves sent Cookie's back into walls, his kicks left bruises on her legs and thighs, and his words could break Cookie down to a sobbing mess.
"Put that cheesecake back, fat ass."
"What kind of cracker jack college gave your dumb ass a master's degree?"
"I swear to God, Cookie, if you say one more thing to me..."
In time, okayokayangelo became Cookie's new name. Mispronounced a word at a banquet? "Okay, okay, Angelo..." Got caught eating some ice cream? "Okay, okay, Angelo..." Late to an important dinner with some campaign backers? "Okay, okay, Angelo..." It was exhausting to have to always placate this mama's boy, but it was better than dealing with his constant outbursts.
When Angelo was happy, there wasn't a better boyfriend in the world. He was so kind and supportive, never getting in the way of her business or her dreams. He came to every Empire function. He proudly supported his wife-to-be in public. Any comments about Cookie's time in prison or suggestions that Cookie wasn't good enough for him was subject to Angelo's wrath. More than once, a WOKE employee or volunteer had been fired for speaking ill of the woman Angelo loved. So Cookie did her best to make Angelo happy, and she swallowed the repercussions of his anger without complaint until the night Cookie couldn't take it anymore - and paid a very dear price.
"Look, I can't do this with you anymore," Cookie finally told Angelo one night after Angelo wouldn't stop berating Cookie because she didn't know what Sisyphean meant. "We're two different people, Angelo. I think we need to just call it quits."
It was the worst thing Cookie could've suggested at the worst possible time. "You're going to leave me?" Angelo asked, his eyes wide. "In the middle of my campaign, you're abandoning me?"
"I'm not abandoning you, Angelo-"
"Yes, you are! When I'm doing my speeches and going places, you're supposed to be by my side! You're my fiancee, goddamn it!"
"You still have my support with your campaign," Cookie assured him. "But we're just not happy together, Angelo. "This marriage would be a mistake, I just feel it. You're miserable, I'm miserable-"
"You're miserable?" Angelo asked. "For what? I'm not miserable."
"It's just..." Cookie tried to choose her words carefully. She was so sick of having to tiptoe around Angelo's temper. "You have to admit that it hasn't been right between us in a long time. Let's just end this while we're still friends. Okay?" She was half-pleading for Angelo to leave.
"What am I supposed to say when people ask me where my fiancee is, Lori? That we're taking a break? That you're miserable? What about the wedding?"
Every explosion starts with a spark. "Cookie."
"Excuse me?" Angelo asked.
"My name...is Cookie," Cookie said through clenched teeth. "Cookie Lyon. I hate Lori. Call me Cookie or Loretha or Ms. Lyon or anything else. Not Lori."
"You think you can tell me what to do?" Angelo sprang from the couch and slapped Cookie so fast that it didn't register right away. "I'll call you what I want to call you, and I'm not calling you Cookie."
He'd hit her for the last time as far as Cookie was concerned. "Get out!" Cookie screamed. "I'm through with you! You fucking weak-ass, no stroke-havin' ass punk!" She tore her engagement ring off her finger and flung it at him. "Get out, Angelo! Get the fuck outta my house!"
"Make me, bitch." Angelo picked up the ring and threw it back at her, hitting Cookie dead in the face. He laughed loudly and plopped down on the couch and propped his feet on the table he'd bought her so long ago. "What, you gonna call your baby daddy and tell him to handle it? Gonna call Lucious and tell him to come beat me up? Do it, Cookie. I dare you."
It sounded like a wonderful idea at first. Then Cookie remembered how Lucious had mocked her after Laz's disappearance. "I'ma call the police," Cookie lied. "We'll see what that does to your punk-ass campaign when you get arrested for-"
Angelo was on top of her in an instant, right on top of the couch he'd bought her so long ago. Cookie began to scream, more out of fear than pain. "Shut up!" Angelo yelled, slapping Cookie across the face for good measure. This was unusual - Angelo usually went through great lengths to avoid touching her face. ("I have to look at you all day," he told her once.) "You ain't calling nobody, bitch. And even if you did, nobody's gonna believe you, Cookie. A hoodrat like you against a man with my pedigree and my credentials? You're nothing without me, Cookie. Nothing but a washed up dope-dealing felon sucking your ex's dick so he can throw you a few crumbs from your own business."
"Please," Cookie begged, struggling to breathe. "Please-I can't-"
"I said shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Whack, right across the other side of her face when Cookie couldn't stop crying. "Shut!" Whack. Left side. "Up!" Whack. Right side. "Shut up, bitch!" Left-right-left with one hand while the other hand remained around Cookie's throat until she finally passed out.
When Cookie came to, Angelo was crying from above like he always did. Somehow, Cookie had been moved - or dragged or pulled or thrown - to the floor. "...my God, Cookie, I am so sorry...so fucking sorry." Angelo was pacing back and forth, his voice hoarse from shouting. "Why do you make me act like this? Huh?" He went to the floor, grabbed Cookie by her shoulders and shook her furiously, like a child who couldn't get his toy to work. "Why do you make me do this?! Why do you bring out the worst in me, Loretha?"
Cookie realized that she was safer playing dead than trying to reason with Angelo. Suddenly, Angelo threw Cookie to the ground. "Wake up! Get up, you ghetto bitch!" he roared and drove a kick to Cookie's ribs. The crack of bone was audible, even over Angelo's voice. "Oh, my God..." Angelo ran for his telephone. "No, no...oh, God..."
Who was he calling? An ambulance? The police? Cookie didn't want Angelo to call anybody. All she wanted was to go to sleep. Andre had broken that rib when Cookie was carrying him, and she knew there was nothing that could be done other than ice and pain-
"Mama?"
Of course. "Mama? Oh, God, I did something bad...it's bad, yeah...it got out of control...it's Cookie. She hit me, Mama, and I was just defending myself...right, and she hit her head. I think I'ma need a lawyer...I know, but I don't know what to do! Okay. Okay, I'm on my way...yeah, I love you, too. I'm coming." There was the jingling of keys and the slamming of her door. Her nose was bleeding, her lip was swollen and her left ear was in excruciating pain, but Cookie was safe at last.
The next morning, Cookie got dressed and went to work as usual. She even put her engagement ring back on, as Angelo had been so kind as to leave it on the coffee table.
Cookie knew that Angelo would be coming by that morning with roses, just like he always did after they had a fight. The women would ooh and ahh over what a great man Cookie had, and Angelo would follow Cookie to her office to make sure that they were okay - that is, to make sure that Cookie hadn't told anybody about what was going on, which she never did. There was no one to tell it to, and no one would believe her even if she did.
Cookie looked immaculate as she got into her taxi to be driven to work, but her makeup was ruined with tears by the time she got to Empire Enterprises. In her bathroom, Cookie's hands trembled as she tried to redo her makeup. She had to line her eyebrows twice because she couldn't draw a straight line. Trying to use her lipliner was a waste of time. She dropped her foundation once, twice, three times.
The third time, the glass bottle spilled the contents in the sink and splattered all over her dress. "No!" Cookie gasped, watching the makeup go down the drain. Thank God Cookie kept extra dresses in her office. But just like with her face, Cookie's hands were shaking badly and it took forever to unzip the back of her dress and unbuckle her sandals.
Half-naked, Cookie raced into her office for another dress just as Anika walked through the door without knocking, like usual. "Cookie, Angelo's here. He brought you...some..." Anika's voice trailed, and the vase of roses she was holding slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor. "Lucious!" she cried, racing towards the door.
"No! Close the door! Close the door!" Cookie begged.
Anika closed the door – with her inside the room, which wasn't what Cookie meant. "Cookie! Oh, my God...Angelo did that to you, didn't he?" Anika demanded. "He did this and then he brought you these roses to make up for it, just like he always does. Didn't he?"
"Bitch, are you crazy?" Cookie scoffed. "You think I would put up with something like that? I fell."
"Into what - the Grand Canyon?" Anika watched Cookie struggling to remove her dress. "How long has this been going on?" she asked quietly when Cookie didn't answer.
"What did I just tell you-"
"How long has this been going on?" Anika repeated, just as softly. "A month, two months...six months? Since the engagement?"
"Anika..." Cookie faltered in the face of Anika's steely gaze. "Look, you can't tell anybody. Please don't tell anyone. It's not what it looks like."
"It looks like Angelo beat the shit out of you," Anika wasn't being mean, just stating a fact.
"He did not beat the shit out of me," Cookie snapped. "We just-he didn't mean-look, I don't expect you to understand hood love, okay?"
"Hood love?" Anika scoffed. "That man has more money than my family!"
"Goddamn it, Boo Boo Kitty!" Anika's eyebrows rose at her hated nickname. "Look, you can't tell anybody," Cookie pleaded. "Okay? Just keep your mouth shut. You know that if Lucious finds out..."
"...Lucious will kill him," Anika finished. "Oh, God, Lucious would kill Angelo if he found out about this, wouldn't he? Right here and now."
"You know he will. And I mean for real-for real. He's not gonna give a damn about witnesses or anything. You know that, Anika."
"You're right...Lucious!" Anika yelled again, turning towards the door.
"Stop it! Don't!" Cookie ran forward and shoved Anika into the door with all her might, causing Anika to sprawl to the floor. Cookie threw herself on top of Anika, pressing against Anika's mouth with her hands. "Shut up!" Cookie growled, looking and sounding much like Angelo. "Keep your mouth shut! You hear me, bitch? Shut up!"
Anika drove her elbow straight into Cookie's side, which caused Cookie to scream out in pain. If Angelo hadn't broken Cookie's ribs last night, Anika just did. Anika scrambled back to her feet, while Cookie held her side as she struggled to stand. "If you open your mouth – if you tell anybody, I swear to God...look, it's not that serious."
"Not that serious?" Anika asked, her voice filled with worry."Cookie, you can barely dress yourself. How many things can you bump into in one lifetime, huh? How many allergic reactions can you have in order to explain away the red marks on your face? How many times are you going to call in sick?"
"Shut up, Anika," Cookie said, her voice shaking. How did Anika know so much about her business?
"How many times can you act all happy when he comes by with those roses and weak-ass apologies?" Anika added gently. "Even I know you hate red roses, Cookie. Anybody who loves you should know that you don't like red roses."
"I said shut up, Boo Boo Kitty," Cookie warned.
"Why are you protecting him, Cookie?" Anika asked incredulously. "If Lucious had done this to you, you'd have him killed! Why are you giving Angelo a free pass?"
"I said shut up!" Cookie wanted to grab Anika by her pretty little face, scratch her eyes out with her ghetto nails. I bet Angelo would never hurt Anika like he hurts me, Cookie thought miserably. Anika would be perfect for Angelo. Well-educated, classy and poised. Hell, even Anika's light skin gave her the one-up on Cookie. Cookie hurled a picture frame in Anika's direction. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
"I will not shut up!" Anika fired back. "I've been quiet for way too long! It ends today, Cookie. All of this ends today - your relationship, my silence, the abuse, all of it. Starting with your visit to the emergency room-"
"What!?"
"Shut your mouth, you hear me?" Anika threatened. "Shut your mouth. You are going to ER, Cookie. You're going to get checked out and we're gonna make sure you're okay. And then you're going to my place up in Staten Island until-hang on."
Anika answered her ringing phone. "Hello? Oh, I'm so sorry! I got distracted. Would you tell Angelo that Cookie isn't here, Porsha? I placed his flowers on Cookie's desk, though...listen, I have to go. I'll see you in a few minutes, I promise." Anika sighed deeply as she hung up the phone. "Come on, Cookie. Let's get you dressed. We need to figure out how to get you out of here without anybody seeing you."
"You can't make me go to ER," Cookie said coldly. "You can't make me go anywhere."
"Oh, yes I can. You know how?" Anika stood inches away from Cookie. "Because if we don't handle this my way, I'm going to tell Lucious and let him handle it his way. And believe me, Cookie, nothing would make me happier than to let Lucious handle things his way." Anika took a moment to let her words sink in. "Now. Do you want to do this peacefully or do you want Angelo to become a weird smell in the Empire basement?"
Defeated, Cookie could only stand still as Anika helped Cookie removed her stained dress. She heard Anika suck in her breath as she took note of all of Cookie's injuries in the light, but she said nothing as she helped Cookie out of one dress and into another. Next, Anika guided Cookie to the bathroom to redo her garish, casket-ready makeup. Years of stage theater combined with her own strict upbringing made Anika a pro at applying makeup. "It won't hold long," Anika warned, "but it'll get you out of here and to the hospital."
"Anika, if it gets out on the news that I'm in ER, Angelo's campaign will be ruined. Please...don't make me go. I'll do anything, please. Please, Anika." Anika gave Cookie a withering stare. "What do you want from me, Anika?" Cookie begged. "An apology? Money? I'll give you money-"
"I want you to be safe! Don't you get it?!" Anika demanded. "Keep your money and your apologies and everything else and bring my daughter's grandmother back! That's all I want, Cookie. I want you back. Not Angelo's Lori...I want Bella's Cookie back. Our Cookie."
Anika would discuss the matter no further. "Does Angelo know I'm here?" Cookie asked tearfully.
"I told him I hadn't seen you, but that I would try to find you." An unreadable look crossed Cookie's face. "What? What's wrong?"
"It's just...well, the two seem to get along so well," Cookie said.
"Are you kidding?" Anika scoffed. "I hate that bastard. I only got close to him to see if I could figure out what was going on with you. Now, listen to me. Do you you where the stairwell of the executive exit is? The one that goes down to the hidden parking lot?" Cookie nodded. "Go there and wait for me. I need to go downstairs and show my face. Quickly, now."
"But Anika-"
"No questions, Cookie. No time." Anika was on her phone once again. "Just go. Meet me downstairs, and I'll take you to my driver."
"I don't have a key to that door!"
"You don't have a key to...you're the goddamned co-CEO and you don't have a key to the executive gate!?"
"You're the goddamned head of A&R! You don't have a key?"
"I do, Cookie, but I'll be downstairs when..." Anika's voice trailed.
"When what?" Cookie prompted.
Anika pursed her lips tightly. "Never mind. Just go to the door and wait anyway. I'll unlock it in a few minutes."
"From inside?" Cookie asked, but she was talking to Anika's back. "Just go to the door!" she yelled over her shoulder as she dashed away.
Every step Cookie took hurt like hell, but Anika was right - her makeup application hid the bruises and cuts on Cookie's face, at least for now. As long as Cookie smiled and kept her head low, nobody gave her a passing look. Cookie nearly vomited when she saw Angelo in the foyer, smiling and flirting with Anika as usual. Anika said she didn't like Angelo, but seeing them...they just seemed so natural together. So right.
Cookie made it to the boardroom, through the doors and around the corner to the door that led to the hidden parking lot. Since one needed fingerprint access to get into the boardroom, very few people had access to the hidden lot. Nobody noticed as Cookie went inside the boardroom and around the corner to wait for Anika. Every second ticking by was agony for Cookie. What was she thinking, following this little debutante around the place? Who was Anika to tell her what to do?
Loud, sirens cut through the air and through Cookie's thoughts. Fire! A fire alarm screamed in every room, every studio, every hall and floor of the Empire Enterprises. Just minutes after the bells rang out, fire trucks roared down the streets to the building, adding to the chaos inside the building. While fire fighters raced from room to room in order to find the source of the fire, all of the Empire employees pushed their way down the stairs and down the halls in order to get to safety.
Anika said for Cookie to meet her here at the executive door, but now there was a fire drill, at the very least, if not worse. What to do? If Cookie went out the front way, she would run into Angelo. But if she stayed here, she could very well lose her , Cookie turned and fled back into the boardroom, where she ran right into Anika. "Cookie, what are you doing!?" Anika gasped. "Open the door! Go, go! Let's go!"
As it turned out, all of the fire alarms unlocked all the doors in the building, including the executive gates. In the parking lot, Anika half-walked, half-dragged Cookie to a driver waiting to take Cookie to Staten Island University Hospital, where he would wait until Cookie's examination and diagnosis was complete. From there, he would drive Cookie to Anika's private brownstone in the same borough, a place that even Lucious didn't know about. "I just went grocery shopping last week. There's plenty of food in there, clean clothes, a whirlpool...whatever you need."
Anika and Cookie quickened their steps, heads down and mouths covered. Cameras were all over the parking lot. They'd escaped through the executive elevator and stairwell, which was accessible to very few people. But that didn't mean that they hadn't been seen.
Cookie tried to listen as Anika talked, but the alarms were giving her a terrible headache. She was in so much pain that all Cookie wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep. But Anika's ER visit suggestion wasn't a suggestion at all. It was an order. "If we don't handle this my way, I'm going to tell Lucious and let him handle it his way."Just thinking about Lucious's way made Cookie tremble. He would never understand what happened last night. It wasn't that big a deal, Lucious, things just got out of hand, that's all...
Anika saw the pain and uncertainty in Cookie's eyes as they stopped in front of the nondescript Toyota Corolla, one with tinted windows. "I broke off my engagement with Angelo last night," she told Anika. "That's why...that's why he did this."
"That's good, Cookie. I'm glad you came to your senses." Anika took Cookie's hands and squeezed them. "Cookie, we're going to get through this. I promise. Step by step, we'll figure it all out. But the first step is to get you out of here and examined by a doctor. Then you'll go to my place until we get your locks changed-"
"My locks?"
"Don't worry, I'm not calling a local locksmith. Angelo probably has half of New York on his payroll. I got a guy of my own. One who's out of town." Anika chuckled dryly. "Knowing him, he'll put in infrared cameras and Kevlar lining. He'll want to turn the place into-"
"-an impenetrable fortress," Cookie finished. The familiar sentence made Cookie even more numb than she already was.
An awkward silence followed. "I was going to tell you, Cookie," Anika said. "Whenever the time was right."
"Guess it was hard to find time in-between me getting my ass kicked." Cookie felt her chest growing tight. "He's a wonderful man, Anika. Don't...don't blow it like I did, okay?"
"I won't," Anika said shortly. She knocked on the driver's car window. "Do not take her anywhere except to the hospital, and don't you leave her for a second, do you hear me? Then take her right to my place. Do not let her out of your sight." Anika knocked on the window again, and the driver let it back up.
It was hard not to feel kidnapped. "Why are you doing all this?" Cookie asked Anika warily as she got into the backseat.
"Because you're the blood of my blood," Anika answered. "And because you would do it for me." She closed the car door behind her and left without another word.
Anika had a point. She might not have liked Cookie, and Lord knew the feeling was mutual. But just as Cookie had been by Anika's side during her miscarriage scare (and again when Anika nearly committed suicide), Cookie knew that nothing on earth would make Anika abandon her, just like Cookie would never abandon Anika at a time like this. Blood of my blood, Anika had called her, and nothing could be truer. But Anika was wrong when she said that Cookie would do the same for Anika as Anika was doing for Cookie. If their situations were reversed, no one - not Anika nor Lucious nor Jesus Christ himself - would have stopped Cookie from slitting Angelo's throat.
TBC