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Never Again, No More 3

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by Untamed




  Never Again, No More 3:

  Karma’s Brew

  Untamed

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One - Trinity

  Chapter Two - Pooch

  Chapter Three - Lucinda

  Chapter Four - LaMeka

  Chapter Five - Charice

  Chapter Six - Lincoln

  Chapter Seven - Aldris

  Chapter Eight - LaMeka

  Chapter Nine - Aldris

  Chapter Ten - Aldris

  Chapter Eleven - Terrence

  Chapter Twelve - Ryan

  Chapter Thirteen - Charice

  Chapter Fourteen - Lucinda

  Chapter Fifteen - LaMeka

  Chapter Sixteen - Pooch

  Chapter Seventeen - Terrence

  Chapter Eighteen - Trinity

  Chapter Nineteen - Ryan

  Chapter Twenty - Charice

  Chapter Twenty-one - Lucinda

  Chapter Twenty-two - LaMeka

  Chapter Twenty-three - Lincoln

  Chapter Twenty-four - Trinity

  Chapter Twenty-five - Pooch

  Chapter Twenty-six - Aldris

  Chapter Twenty-seven - LaMeka

  Chapter Twenty-eight - Lucinda

  Chapter Twenty-nine - Ryan

  Chapter Thirty - LaMeka

  Chapter Thirty-one - Lucinda

  Chapter Thirty-two - Trinity

  Chapter Thirty-three - Pooch

  Teaser chapter

  Urban Books, LLC

  300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109

  Farmingdale, NY 11735

  Never Again, No More 3: Karma’s Brew

  Copyright © 2021 Untamed

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-6455-6175-0

  eISBN 13: 978-1-64556-176-7

  eISBN 10: 1-64556-176-3

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Submit Orders to:

  Customer Service

  400 Hahn Road

  Westminster, MD 21157-4627

  Phone: 1-800-733-3000

  Fax: 1-800-659-2436

  Dedication

  To all of my firsts:

  First and foremost, to my mom, Mary, the first person to believe in my talents and challenge me to pursue them. My hubby, Chris, my first and biggest fan. My first readers, Sabrina, Ms. Kathy, Jessica, thank you for reading my work even when my story was little more than words on paper.

  Acknowledgments

  Giving honor and thanks to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I am humbled and grateful for this gift you’ve instilled in me. Thank you for your continued blessings as I travel down my destined path and for all things that you would have me to do.

  To my husband, Chris, my best friend and the love of my life: You were my first fan and my biggest fan, and the one who always . . . like always . . . keeps it real with me. Thank you for your honest feedback, even when I don’t want to hear it. Thank you for loving me so unconditionally.

  To my children: My Angel, who watches over me, I love you always. Kam, Ki, and Christian, as you grow, I see your talents bloom and manifest. Always believe in yourself and always follow your dreams. And keep your mom on her feet. Gotta stay young in these streets! LOL

  To my dad, who never fails to showcase all of my accomplishments: I love you. Thank you for always making me FEEL like a real star

  To my girl, Diane Rembert: Honey, thank you for everything—and I do mean EVERYTHING! God connects people for a reason, and I know you were meant to be a part of this lifelong journey with me.

  To N’Tyse: As long as we have each other and King Jesus, miracles happen! Being on the winning team with you is simply heaven sent. Thank you!

  To my family and friends who’ve supported this journey and loved me from the cradle or the A1: My gratitude to you knows no limits. I love you all.

  To my readers and fans: Thank you for your continued support of my work. I promise you all fuel all of this Untamable greatness. I’m going to keep pushing. Stay with me!

  So, how about we jump on this Untamable ride and see where these Never Again . . . No More characters are gonna take us now?

  **Disclaimer: This work of fiction may contain sensitive subject matter.**

  Chapter One

  Trinity

  Although it was a bit breezy and chilly, I leaned against the rail of my terrace in my silk pajama set. My long, silky hair hung loosely, lightly caressing my face as it blew with the morning air, and the sheer serenity of the moment brightened my mood. My arms were riddled with chill bumps after a crisp but refreshing winter breeze kicked up, so I rubbed some warmth into them with my hands as the sun began to peek out beyond the horizon. I never grew tired of admiring the morning sun bursting onto my beautifully landscaped back yard, especially not from the terrace of my estate home in Evanston on the North Shore of Chicago, which was one of the most elite areas, if not the most elite area, in all of Illinois. Even after six months, the view still amazed me, just as it did the first time I had seen it.

  We were a hell of a long way from the hood-nigga lifestyle we had been living. Our renovated Victorian-style mansion was a house that I could never even dream of having. It was situated on six acres of land. Terrence had purchased the eight-bedroom, six-bathroom home with family in mind. Aside from the normal features of our home, it boasted amenities such as a theater room, a library, an office, a small home gym, a basketball court, a pool and pool house, and a four-car garage. Our neighbors were CEOs and high-powered executives, and our kids were in private school with their kids. Career-wise, I’d enrolled in an online college and opened up my own art gallery, where I sold a lot of my own personal sketches as signature collections, and Terrence became a real estate investor.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Kincaid,” I heard as I felt two arms wrap around my waist.

  I took a moment to enjoy the feel of being in Terrence’s arms, then turned around. “Good Morning, Mr. Kincaid,” I replied and kissed my husband.

  “How is my lovely wife doing this morning?”

  “Why, I’m lovely as always.” I beamed.

  “Do you ever get tired of watching the sunrise?” Terrence asked, pointing out into the horizon.

  Lifting my arm up, I wrapped my fingers in Terrence’s dreadlocks. “Nah,” I said as he kissed me again.

  “Keep pulling on my locs like that, li’l mama, and I’m gonna take you back to bed and give you a reason to hold on to them,” Terrence said suggestively.

  “I don’t have a problem with that. I love to please my husband.”

  Our passion took over as we kissed on the terrace. Soon, both our pajama pants were down around our ankles, and Terrence lifted me up to make love right there on the ledge.

  “Fuck! I want you so fucking bad, li’l mama,” he moaned.

  Freeing his thick erection from his boxers, I slid my hand up and down. “Take it,” I commanded him.

  Terrence wasted no time, sliding my lacy panties down. Just as we were about to connect, I heard a familiar sound. “Wanhhhh!”

  “No, no, please no,” Terrence whined as he buried his face in my chest.

  “I’m so
rry, boo. The baby calls.”

  Standing, I pulled up my underwear and pajama pants. While Terrence regained his composure, I walked into our bedroom to turn the baby monitor off and then, he joined me in the hallway, and we walked across the hallway to our baby’s nursery.

  “Hey, son. You couldn’t wait just five more minutes, huh?” Terrence said, picking up our two-month-old baby boy, Tyson.

  “And if that was all you were gonna give me, then my li’l Ty-Ty did his mama a big favor.” I laughed as Terrence stood there rocking the baby.

  He leaned over and kissed me. “I’m a heavyweight. All I need is one good punch and you’ll be knocked out,” he joked.

  I burst out laughing as I grabbed the baby’s blanket and turned off the monitor in the nursery. “Your cocky ass is too much! Come on. Let’s head down to the kitchen so I can warm up his bottle. Your son’s appetite is increasing.”

  As we walked out of the nursery to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but stare at Terrence as he held our son. I couldn’t believe just how much Tyson looked like Terrence. Our other two children, Brittany and Terry, were split down the middle between Terrence and me, but not Tyson Jahmal Kincaid. He was definitely his daddy’s spitting image, so I was so thankful that I had gotten away from Pooch before he was born. One look at Tyson and Pooch would have known, without question, that his son was really Terrence’s son.

  Part of me thought of Pooch and felt sorry for what he was going through. I’d been following his case via the news and learned that he’d gotten double life without parole. That seemed like far too long for any man to pay for his transgressions. Don’t get me wrong, Pooch did some fucked up shit. Selling death on the streets to little kids’ mamas and daddies and people’s children was low, but at the same time, you had to blame the junkies, too. None of these niggas in the street would make money if people just said no to that ignorant shit. One thing a drug dealer never had to do was beg for a customer, recession or not.

  Then, I thought about his sleazy ass with those skank-ass strippers. That wasn’t illegal or anything, but it did degrade women. He even had my homegirl Lucinda dumb in the head enough to be employed at his establishment. What kind of man would hire your best friend to strip at his club? I’ll tell you what kind, a nigga like Pooch. Now, that was low, but it didn’t constitute prison time.

  There was other shit, too, like murdering those young cats and only God knows who else over the years. Nobody’s life was worth taking for any reason. My theory is if you didn’t give them life, then you don’t have the right to take it. Yet, in a way, I still felt sorry for Pooch because he was never one of these thugs that fucked with anybody as long as you didn’t step to him or his family or mess with his money. So basically, any dude bad enough to tangle with Pooch was gambling on cheating death.

  Maybe that’s why I insisted that we live in a gated community and permanently change our last names to Kincaid. When Terrence and I moved from Atlanta after bringing down Pooch and his organization, Terrence wanted to take on his dad’s last name of Warren, but I refused out of fear. I just knew Pooch would track us down. So, we ended up taking on Terrence’s maternal grandmother’s last name of Kincaid. I didn’t want any mishaps. Even though Pooch was safely situated behind bars in federal lockup, I still felt unsafe at times. It’s almost as if I could hear him taunting me from inside the prison. Sure, I was a long way from Atlanta, in a neighborhood that his ghetto ass would never think to look for me, with a different last name, yet I still worried about Pooch catching up with me—us.

  Terrence sat down next to me at the breakfast table as I fed Tyson.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  Looking up at him with a smile, I fibbed, “Nothing.”

  “Liar.” He chuckled.

  “I’m just happy—”

  He interrupted me. “You were thinking about Pooch again, weren’t you?”

  “I can’t help it, Dreads. I feel so disconnected with the world back home. We left everyone and everything we knew and loved in Atlanta. Even though I know Pooch is locked up, I feel like I’m still a target. It’s what I don’t know that bothers me.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what I know,” Terrence said, pulling his chair in front of me and placing his hands on my knees. “I know that I will never allow anyone or anything to hurt you or our children. So, you don’t have to worry about Pooch or nobody else. I got you, and when I say I got you, I mean it.”

  “I know. It’s just—” I began just as our nanny, Consuela, arrived.

  “Buenos días, Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid,” she sang, halting our conversation.

  “Good morning, Consuela,” we greeted her in unison.

  “I see little Tyson is up early for his feeding.” She smiled as I placed him on my shoulder to burp him.

  “Ain’t he always?” I laughed. “This boy ain’t missing no meals.”

  “He’s a growing boy. He needs all the meals he can get,” she said. “Well, I am about to start breakfast for the other kids. Would you like anything in particular for yourselves?” Consuela asked.

  “Actually, no. I am going to treat my wife out to a special day of shopping and relaxing, so we’ll get something while we’re out,” Terrence said, smiling at me.

  “Dreads! You didn’t tell me that we were doing anything today.”

  “I know. It was a surprise.”

  Consuela smiled at us. “I love to see two young people so much in love. You have a wonderful husband, Mrs. Kincaid.”

  “Aww thanks, Consuela,” Terrence said as he hugged her. “Well, we should get the kids dressed so we can drop them off at school. I’ll send them down for breakfast as soon as they’re done, Consuela.”

  “No problem, Mr. K. Breakfast will be ready when they get down.”

  I put the baby back in his nursery and turned on the monitors. On my way to the kids’ rooms, Terrence grabbed my arm, pulled me in our bedroom, and locked the door in one swoop.

  “What are you doing? I have to get the kids dressed.”

  “It’s only seven o’clock. They don’t have to be to school until eight-thirty.”

  “So?”

  “Sooo.” He chuckled, pulling me by the waist and pressing my body close to his rising erection. “Let me show you how good my five-minute bout is,” he joked.

  I bit my bottom lip and kissed him. “This better be one powerful punch.”

  In one swift motion, his pants were at his ankles, and his luscious member was standing at full attention. “I’m already ready to knock it out the box,” he said with a seductive grin, and that is exactly what he did—in a record four minutes!

  Moments like this made me forget the hell I had endured while living with Pooch, and I was determined that I would never go back to that life again. It was a hard decision, but I decided to let go of my fear so that I could fully enjoy raising my kids and being Mrs. Terrence Kincaid. Terrence had proven over and over again that he would take care of me, and now it was time to breathe, relax, and enjoy all my new life had to offer. For the first time, I could honestly say I loved my life! And that was the shit I would remember from now on.

  Chapter Two

  Pooch

  I was going fucking insane! I hated this damn place. Couldn’t eat in peace and couldn’t shit in peace. Now, I couldn’t even sleep in peace. Who wanted to listen to these damn shit-packing muthafuckas in the cell next door moaning and groaning on each other? It made me sick to my muthafucking stomach! How in the hell did two grown, rusty-ass men find pleasure in fucking and sucking on each other? I was cool with one of them dudes at first. I mean, he was a real thug-lookin’ nigga. Swole like a muthafucka. I’m talkin’ about a real cock diesel nigga. His cellmate was kinda quiet, an average-size nigga who liked to read a lot. You never would’ve thought those two was on some ol’ secret lover bullshit.

  And that cock diesel nigga had a damn dime-piece-ass woman! I mean, that chick . . . whoo! That’s a bad bitch! Cock Diesel would be all up on her during visitation
like he just loved her so much, slobbing her down as if he loved pussy so much. I bet if she knew those same lips were on some dick right now, she’d leave his ass for a nigga like me. I could skeet off just thinking about his chick bouncing that ass in the air, and he was over there moaning like a female while he got his pipe smoked by another dude. From what ol’ dude across the hall told me, they get it in heavy, too. He said Cock Diesel drilled up in ol’ dude ass so deep, it was like his asshole was a female’s pussy!

  Now I couldn’t even look at that nigga the same, and he always wanted me to give him daps and play cards and shit. Shiit. Not me. Cock Diesel’s hands had been all over another nigga’s ass crack, and he wanted me to touch them? Hell to the muthafucking no. He’d better come again with that shit and stick to making love to his cellmate.

  “You up?” Wolf, my cellmate, asked, breaking my train of thought.

  “Hell yeah, I’m up. How I’ma not be up? I can’t sleep with them bitch-ass niggas next door gettin’ they groove on. Trust me. There is nothing I’d rather be than asleep, so I wouldn’t have to hear that nasty-ass shit!”

  Wolf laughed. “Man, I feel you. We might as well just talk until they finish, ’cause I’m fucking tired of listening to that shit myself.”

  I laughed. “Man, I hear that.”

  “So, you heard anything from your girl? The one who left?”

  Now, out of all the shit to talk about, he had to bring up Trinity’s raggedy ass, so not only could I not sleep, now I had to be pissed off too! Shit, I think I’d rather listen to them muthafuckas bump nuts than discuss that bitch.

  “Hell naw. That broad ain’t tryna see me. Bitches are scandalous. A nigga catch a case, and she gone before the feds even lock me up.”

  “That’s fucked up. I feel you. My ex-old lady had the nerve to come up here and tell me face-to-face that she had to move on with her life. Talkin’ about she was lonely and shit and the kids needed a role model and whatnot. I’m like, you weren’t saying that shit when I was out there hustlin’ to provide and shit. You didn’t have no problems with me risking my life, but now that I caught a case tryna do just that, now you looking for a role model and you lonely.”

 

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