Whos Loving You

by Mary B. Morrison

  Spinning with my woman in my arms, I whispered, “Hey, baby.” Hugging Summer tight, I stood still. When she lowered her feet to the gravel, I stepped back, placing my hand on her stomach. “You don’t look pregnant at all, baby.”

  “Well, I am. I’ll show you the ultrasound when we get home. Anthony, I love you so much.”

  A tear fell from her eye. Softly, I kissed it away. “I love you, too, baby.”

  “When I found out where they’d transferred you, we had to come and get you out.”

  “We?” I asked, trying to see through the tinted windows of the Bentley.

  “Yes, we. I brought Anthony with me.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I sought confirmation. “My little man, Anthony?”

  “Yeah, silly. Our son.”

  “Let’s get the fu…I mean the hell away from here.” I had to work on not cursing so much. Summer always made me want to be a better man. There was something sweet, innocent, and pure about her intentions. I never had to wonder if she was plotting against me. We got in the car.

  “Hey, Daddy,” Anthony said, tugging on my shoulder.

  “Hey, man. What’s up? You good?” I replied.

  Fuck. I was so happy to get out, I’d forgotten my family’s pictures. But my son seriously looked dead-on like me. Wavy black hair, light complexion, light brown eyes.

  “Yes, sir. I’m doing well,” Anthony answered cheerfully.

  A puff of air exited my nostrils. Damn. My parents had raised me the same “yes, ma’am, no, sir” way. I was gonna do right by my seed. Summer shouldn’t have to raise him by herself. “Where’re we going?” I asked Summer.

  Keeping her eyes on the highway, she answered, “Well, you have to stay close until your hearing, if you know what I mean, so we’re going to my place until the charges are dropped and the case is closed. Then we’re moving far away from Vegas. Somewhere in the south, where we can buy a bigger house, give birth to these two babies in my stomach, provide a safe environment for Anthony, go to church every Sunday, and settle down.”

  Settle what? Buy what? Have who? Go where? What the hell? What if those twins weren’t mine? Why didn’t she throw in a wedding date, too, while she was plotting a nigga’s life?

  “They have to drop them. You’re no good to us being locked up, and nothing can bring my sister back,” she added.

  Pointing, I said, “Take this exit by In-N-Out Burger. I need to stretch my legs for a moment. Shit is happening too damn fast.”

  Summer disobeyed me. She bypassed the exit.

  I stared at her, then yelled, “What? Are you deaf! Bitch, take this next exit!”

  “Stop yelling at my mommy!” Anthony cried, covering his face.

  Summer’s hands trembled. Her voice quivered. “I never take that exit. That’s where my dad and I pulled over the night Sunny was killed. I knew she was dead, because I felt like I’d been shot in the head, too. I wasn’t ignoring you. And please don’t you ever call me the B word again.”

  A stream of tears rolled down her beautiful face. What the fuck was I doing? “Baby, I’m sorry. Keep going,” I said.

  The next half hour I gazed out the window, happy that thanks to Summer, I was free. She was right. I shouldn’t have called her a bitch. Was that bitch threatening me on the under? I watched cars pass us on the highway. Summer exited in Henderson, drove into one of those new developments, and pressed the garage button. The garage door lifted. Inside the garage were a new luxury sports utility vehicle and a new, expensive four-door sedan. I walked into the house. Everything was so new and, I swear, so perfect that it looked like nobody lived there. Standing in the living room, I realized it wasn’t the money, the cars, the house, or Summer that excited me. To the core of my existence, till the day I’d die, Valentino James was a pimp. I couldn’t wait to hit the Strip tonight. Maybe I should lay low for a while, I thought.

  “Anthony, go play in your room. Sweetheart, Mommy needs to talk to Daddy.”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Anthony said, running upstairs.

  I followed Summer upstairs to her bedroom. A king-sized bed, surrounded by dressers, mirrors, and nightstands, was decorated in all white.

  “I’ma take a bath,” I said, closing the bathroom door. Taking off the clothes Summer had bought, I filled the tub, stepped in, and relaxed. A nigga was so glad to let his nuts float for an hour. Enjoying the sunshine on my face, I scrubbed my dick a million times over, or so it seemed, trying to get rid of any disease. That bitch-ass guard had me paranoid.

  After drying off, I wrapped a fresh towel around my waist and joined Summer in the bed. She cuddled me from behind. Her breasts, her nipples, her stomach, and her pussy hairs felt amazing against my back, spine, and ass. Her thighs caressed mine. Her knees touched the back of mine. Her legs overlapped mine. Her toes fondled mine.

  I’d done pretty good suppressing my sexual urges until Summer caressed my dick, then whispered in my ear, “Anthony Valentino James, make love to me,” before kissing my earlobe.

  Instantly, my dick got hard as a fucking rocket. “You got a condom?” I asked, praying she did.

  “Do we need one?” she asked.

  Thinking about the babies growing inside of Summer, the word yes, was on the tip of my tongue, but my throbbing dick answered, “No, we don’t.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Sapphire

  I was excited about a man. When was the last time that had happened?

  Nervous, I stood near the luggage carousel closest to Starbucks, waiting for Grant. Peeping in the window, at my reflection, I wondered if my hair looked good. Spreading my fingers, I inspected my natural nails. I couldn’t risk wearing acrylic or gel nails and having one to break as I pulled out my gun to shoot somebody. My French manicure was immaculate.

  Did I wear the right dress? I covered up my cleavage. I didn’t want his second impression of me to be the same as the first. I couldn’t believe, here I was, acting like a giddy teenager in love, when I had seen this man only once, hadn’t seen him in more than ten years, and had never been in love. Maybe he could be my first.

  My cell phone rang. Eagerly, I looked at the caller ID. This would be a quickie.

  “Hello,” I said, listening for my associate’s update.

  “Hey, springtime came early. Yesterday to be exact,” she said.

  “Peace,” I said before ending the call.

  I’d gotten so excited about Grant, I had forgotten I was supposed to visit Summer. I hadn’t made time. Guess I’d underestimated her ability or the system’s capability to process Valentino out. I had to find time to get to Valentino before he made time to get to me.

  Wringing my palms, I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, wishing I could bum a cigarette. I wasn’t a smoker. I had to calm down. Inside I was jittery. My nerves were bad. “Okay. I’ll walk around the carousel a few times. Damn. I still want to smoke,” I said aloud. What if he smelled nicotine on my breath and hated kissing smokers? Just about everybody in Vegas smoked something. Why shouldn’t I?

  My cell phone rang again. Happily, I cheered, “He’s finally here.” Checking the caller ID, I saw it was Girl Six. Damn. Her timing was bad. “Hey, make it quick,” I said, looking into the crowd for Grant. “You made it in safely?”

  “Yeah, but I saw Lace, two women, and a little boy boarding a plane to Los Angeles. They were in the same terminal with me.”

  “Are you smoking what I should be smoking? Are you sure? That red-eye flight has you jet-lagged. Lace with a little boy? That doesn’t sound right. Your driver should be waiting for you when you exit the terminal. He’ll be in front of the rental car area, holding a sign with your name on it. Call me back when you get to Lace’s house.” I quickly ended the call. I didn’t want Grant’s call to bypass the ringer of this possessed cell phone and go straight to voice mail. Technology these days had all kinds of quirks the manufacturers hadn’t figured out how to resolve. Sometimes the malfunctions, like dropped calls, worked to my advantage.

  �
�Wait a minute,” I said out loud. Girl Six got in to Atlanta yesterday, not today. What took her so long to call me? Something was up. I’d get back with her later.

  A half hour had passed since Grant’s flight had landed. I was beginning to wonder if Grant had changed his mind. Couldn’t say I’d blame him. Wasn’t like his visiting me was business. For me, it was all pleasure. If he hadn’t answered Lace’s phone, eventually I would’ve contacted him. I’d checked his background from my office computer. There were several Grant Hills, but only one was twenty-eight and extremely wealthy. His GH Property Management and Development business license and portfolio were impressive. That had to be him. I imagined Lace fucked only the best. I didn’t care what she’d done sexually with Grant. I had no loyalty to her.

  I’d changed my linen, cleaned my entire house, and freshened up the guest bedroom, and I’d cooked a delicious seafood pasta in Alfredo sauce, with sun-dried tomatoes, pesto, and a few capers. My melt-in-your-mouth garlic bread was ready to go in my oven, which was already preheated to 350 degrees. It had been a long time since I’d invited a man over for more than a meal, and I found that having a hot, home-cooked dinner on the stove increased a man’s appetite for sex.

  Searching the crowd for Grant, I couldn’t believe…What the hell? Was that who I…I moved closer, praying he didn’t turn around before I made certain my eyes weren’t deceiving me. Standing three feet behind him, I pulled out my handcuffs, then said, “Looking for someone?”

  His head jerked in my direction; his body froze. “Aw, shit. I’m not who you think I am,” he exclaimed. “Uh, I’m a hologram. I mean, I’m a ventriloquist. I can explain.” He started moving his hand like a talking puppet, trying to speak without moving his lips. “I had to come back. In fact, I was looking for you. There you are.” He started backing away.

  I moved closer, listening to his act. I wanted to bust out laughing, but I didn’t want to encourage him.

  He said, “You know, Lace has got your money. And I can help you get it back, ’cause my brother is crazy in love with her. And—”

  “And shut the hell up!” That “in love” shit pissed me off. Flipping open my handcuffs, I said, “No need to explain anything to me. Obviously, you thought I was kidding. Turn around. You’re under arrest.” I snapped on the cuffs.

  “Ow! That’s too tight,” he said seriously. “I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I was headed to Arizona, and I got confused. The Amtrak, I mean Greyhound, you know, the bus stop outside. I thought I got off in Scottsdale. I was going to the spa. Please, lady, that’s too tight.”

  I ignored his protests. “You have the right to remain silent.” I glanced around for Grant, but no luck.

  “What am I under arrest for? I’m not even on probation,” Benito said, staring off into the crowd, hoping someone would hear and help him. “I’ma have your badge taken away. Oh, shit. You don’t have your gun on you, do you? You don’t own this city.”

  That was where he was right. I didn’t own the city. I owned the entire fucking state and everyone who crossed the state line. I could justify arresting any person in Nevada, including those cyber-bully, no-home-training, wanna-hide-behind-a-computer minors threatening their peers over the Internet.

  That shit had gotten out of control. Parents needed to investigate every little thing their children did. I was outraged that a twelve-year-old had hung herself because another twelve-year-old had instant messaged her, demanding that the girl commit suicide. Now the offender had to do time in juvenile. They should’ve tried her as an adult. Maybe I wouldn’t have any kids for Grant. Raising children these days was worse than doing twenty-four-hour surveillance.

  Benito’s neck kept snapping left to right.

  “Who you looking for?” I asked him, turning him so he faced me.

  “Valentino,” he answered. “Can you take these things off of me? I didn’t do nothing.”

  “Oh, you looking for Valentino James? I’ll show you where he’s at. You can be his cell mate.” I was testing him to see how much he knew.

  Benito laughed at me. “You don’t know everything?”

  I did not have time to entertain this idiot. When I did find Valentino, Valentino was gonna be locked up so long, Benito might have to pay him a conjugal visit. Maybe a guardian angel had sent me here not to meet Grant, but to catch this fool. Obviously, he hadn’t taken me seriously when I’d let him go a month ago. I could detain Benito and wait for Grant, or I could take this hysterical hyena in and miss out on the best sex of my life. Or I could let Benito go with a warning. What if Grant had gotten fat? Or what if he’d let himself go and had one of those beer guts that hung over the belt?

  “I see you’re not the only one who doesn’t like my brother,” said a voice behind me.

  I turned around, and my world stood still. What cloud did this Mandingo god fall from? “Grant?”

  “Tiffany?” Grant said, with the brightest smile.

  “Tiffany? Who’s Tiffany? That ain’t no Tiffany,” Benito said. “That’s Officer Sapphire Bleu. Man, you’d better not let her handcuff you, I’m telling you. How do you two know each other, anyway?” Benito babbled on. Neither of us paid any attention to him.

  Damn. Grant was fine! “Is he really your brother?” I asked, staring at Grant’s dick. I knew I was being rude, but I couldn’t help myself, Lord, Jesus!

  Smiling, Grant shook his head, then said, “No blood relation, but I’d be lying if I said he’s not my brother.”

  “What do you think I should do with him?” I asked. For all I knew, Benito could’ve been halfway back to where he’d come from. I refused to take my eyes off of Grant.

  “You can start by taking off these tight-ass handcuffs. You women have a problem trying to tie a good-looking brotha like me down.” Benito started singing. “We shall overcome some day-ay-ay-ay. Oh, oh, oh.” With each oh, he got louder. “Deep in my heart!”

  Grant started laughing. “Please, spare us. Let him go. He’s only harmful to himself.”

  I didn’t have time to debate the issue. I unlocked the handcuffs. “It would behoove you to get back on Amtrak or Greyhound and get out of Nevada,” I told Benito. “If I see you again, your brother won’t be able to save your ass.”

  “Be who?” Benito said, rubbing his wrist. He held out his hand. “Thanks, bro. You heard what she said. I used all my money coming here. Can I get another five hundred? Mom wouldn’t want me in jail.”

  Grant reached into his pocket and handed Benito five one-hundred-dollar bills. “Now you have no excuses,” he said.

  Skipping away and fanning the money in the air, Benito didn’t look back.

  Grant smiled, took a step back, and checked me out. “Well, Tiffany Davis, how are you? I really don’t need to ask that question. You’ve taken excellent care of yourself. I would’ve never guessed, as pretty as you are, that you’re a cop. I see you don’t mind using those cuffs, either.”

  There was so much I wanted to say. Speechless, I stood staring in amazement. If anyone had told me I was going to reunite with this man, I would’ve arrested them on the spot for lying to an officer. “You know you look better than good,” I said, trying to maintain my composure. “Let’s get you to my place.”

  “I have a room at the Wynn,” Grant said.

  “And?” I’d already told him where he was going.

  Thank God the ride was short. I parked in my garage. Opening the door, Grant followed his nose to the kitchen. “Wow. You can cook, too. That was a long flight, and I’m famished.”

  “I figured you would be. You can put your bags in my room. The bedroom to the right. I’ll fix you a plate.”

  I watched his ass until it disappeared out of my sight. After placing the garlic bread in the oven, I warmed the pasta. It wasn’t long before we were breaking bread and talking like we’d known each other for years.

  “How do you know Lace?” I asked him, watching him eat and wishing like hell I was a shrimp or scallop.

  “I didn’t
fly all this way to be interrogated. You first.”

  “Okay, I knew of her before I actually met her. I could’ve arrested her for pimping, pandering, and for killing my best friend, Sunny, but I spared her because she seemed a lot like me. We weren’t hard because we wanted to be. Men made us this way.”

  “Okay,” Grant said, biting into the garlic bread. “Oh, this is so good. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Now get to the point of how you know her, I thought.

  “I’ve heard Honey’s story. That’s what I call her. She didn’t kill Sunny Day. Now what’s your real reason for giving her fifty million dollars and keeping her involved in this? I want to help clear Honey’s name. Seems like you want to have everyone around you on a short leash.”

  Clear her name. I started laughing like Benito was laughing earlier. Grant’s fine ass was now on a shorter leash. He just didn’t know it yet. Clear her name. Get the fuck outta here. Officer Sapphire was runnin’ this, not Grant.

  CHAPTER 23

  Honey

  Spending time with Ronnie made me want to have children. I started missing Grant all over again. Right before the announcement of our flight’s departure to Los Angeles, I texted him. Miss you. Don’t know what happened last night. Care to explain? I touched SEND, then powered off my iPhone.

  Ronnie was so sweet and easy to please. He was the kind of child I’d clone if I could. Flying first class, he sat next to his mother on one side of the aisle, and I sat in the aisle seat across from them, with Velvet’s mom next to me in the window seat.

  During our short time together, Ronnie had become adultlike. He watched his mother while Velvet went to sleep on takeoff. Ronnie’s love and happiness were genuine. I watched him bounce up and down each time we experienced turbulence. He was smiling, laughing, and singing out loud.