Real Love 4 (If Loving You is Wrong)

by H. H. Fowler

“Nope. It’s right here in black and white.”

  “Does Drake know about this yet?”

  “Legally, he has a right to know,” Lewis said. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”

  Rena grew silent for a second before she suddenly spat, “Keep quiet about this until I get to Devin’s Cay. I will be on the first flight out in the morning.”

  “I thought you would. See you when you arrive, my dear.”

  Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs, being purged, a fire sparkling in lover’s eyes, being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers’ tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet.

  William Shakespeare

  Chapter Three

  Monday Morning – 8:12 a.m.

  Yasmine eased back against her pillows, being careful not to waste the warm cocoa on herself, which she’d made with a lot of sugar and a lot of milk. She’d never drank her cocoa like that until the baby inside of her starting changing her cravings. Two hours later she would be eating peanut butter and celery with a big cup of lemonade. However, the wellbeing of the baby was the last thing on Yasmine’s mind at the moment. For all she cared, this baby could take a flying leap off a bridge and give her back her body. If only Ronnie knew how disgusted she felt carrying his evil seed; she would never get used to the idea or for that matter, be okay with it. One way or another, she had to get rid of it.

  She picked up her cell phone and texted Levi, which had inexplicably become the antidote to getting her mind off of how messed up her life truly was.

  “All of last night, I’ve been thinking about what you said – about this new thingy between you and me. So, I need to know the rules.”

  “Rules? What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Levi, I believe you’re a much smarter man than that. Every relationship has a set of rules. The do’s and the don’t’s…what to expect and what not to expect. Stuff like that.”

  “Rules complicate things,” Levi texted back after a lengthy pause. “We've developed a pretty good form of communication. I say we keep it that way and see how it goes from there. But if you still need some guidelines to go by, remember, no pressure; no promises. We’re taking things as slowly as we can, relishing every moment. We have been rejected by love for too long to take anything for granted.”

  “But it's okay that I refer to you as my boyfriend?”

  “Lol...you sound like a precocious ten-year-old kid. But I have no problem with you wanting to refer to me as your boyfriend, so long as you know that such endearments come with an emotional attachment.”

  Yasmine rubbed her growing baby bump, sharply reminding herself that she was almost three months pregnant for her evil stepfather. Her jovial mood, which only lasted as long as she was talking to Levi, had suddenly been struck with a bout of depression.

  “I am going to ask you something,” she typed. “But I want you to be brutally honest with me.”

  “Okay...fire away...”

  “Can you see yourself raising another man’s child? And please, don’t think this has anything to do with me being pregnant, because I’m still thinking about getting an abortion. I just want to know your take on alternative fatherhood.”

  “Alternative fatherhood? First of all, what in the world does that even mean? And how could my response not relate to you in any way, because you are, in fact, pregnant with another man’s child...”

  “You’re beating around the bush.”

  “I am doing no such thing. In case you haven’t noticed by now, Yasmine, if I had a problem with you being pregnant with your stepfather’s child, I wouldn’t have asked you to explore a relationship with me in the first place. I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”

  “You’re saying that now. I think it would be better to have an abortion. I don’t want this baby to be the cost of our chance at happiness.”

  “This is where you and I differ greatly on the issue of family planning. Abortion is never an option for me. Adoption, probably. However, you must realize that that baby is innocent and it deserves a fair shot at life.”

  “So, you’re saying that if I got an abortion it would mean you and me are done?”

  “I'm saying that I think being a father is more than impregnating a woman with my sperm. I value life, even if it didn’t come from my own body. Choose wisely, Yasmine, is all I’m asking of you.”

  Those words struck an emotional chord so deep that Yasmine had to pause to gather her composure. What kind of man was Levi, putting himself on the line for a stranger and her baby? Did he really understand what he was getting himself into? She was not an easy person to deal with nor was she the best person in the world. She’d falsely accused a man of rape of all things. Had Levi forgotten that or was he that good of a man to look past all of her faults and failures?

  “Did I make you upset by what I said?” Levi typed after not seeing Yasmine’s response. “Because I’m not sorry for saying it.”

  “Upset? No. Impressed? Yes. But I’m still not convinced that you know what you’re getting yourself into with me. I’m like the black sheep on everyone’s list.”

  “So am I… and I’m shaking my head at you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that negative attitude of yours is not winning any points with me. Please work on being a little more positive. Remember, we have ceased from pining after people who don’t care anything about us. We have a new lease on life – to forget who we used to be in the past.”

  Yasmine didn’t fully agree with that statement, because a big part of her heart was still set on Kevin Beckford, the same, she assumed, as it was for Levi with Drake Beckford’s wife. With such odds already against them, she predicted that this relationship was over before it even started. However, she did not want to open up a new can of worms by saying so.

  “I'll try my best, Levi,” she typed instead. “But it’s hard coming from such a messed up background like mine. The only thing I have going for me is being recognized as the first female from Devin’s Cay ever to win an international beauty pageant...” Yasmine paused for a second to give ear to something she heard outside her bedroom. “I’ll be right back...there’s someone knocking on my front door.”

  “Be quick,” Levi typed. “Because I’ll be leaving the house soon to train with the boys that play for Xavier’s basketball team.”

  “Just go right ahead and rush my pants off, Levi. I hope you’re not in such a rush whenever we decide to have sex, because I prefer long-winded men.”

  Smiling at her snappy comeback, Yasmine stuffed the phone into one of the pockets of her jeans and hastened to answer the door. She looked through the peephole and saw that it was Albert, one of two chauffeurs that Officer Mitchell had assigned to cater to her while she was in Tampa, Florida. One of the chauffeurs had temporarily gone back to Devin’s Cay for personal reasons, leaving Albert to man the fort alone. However, Yasmine didn’t remember summoning Albert for anything, especially at this time in the morning.

  “Albert? What are you doing here so early?”

  “I’m here to move you to another location because this apartment has been compromised.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Pack whatever you can,” Albert grunted. “You have three minutes.”

  Yasmine took two steps back, clearly baffled by the unexpected command. “I think I had better call Officer Mitchell and find out what is going on.”

  “I will call him for you while you get your things, because we have a very small window of opportunity. We must leave now.”

  “I will not leave until I talk to Officer Mitchell for myself.”

  Albert’s expression was unrelenting. “Be my guest. But if you’re shot between the eyes while you’re on the phone, know that I warned you and your blood is off my hands.”

  Despite the gruesome image that she conjured up in her mind, Yasmine pulled her cell out of her pocket to call Mitchell.

  “Officer Mitchell is currently in a very imp
ortant meeting and he instructed me to relocate you right away. He said that he will call you later to explain.”

  “I want to know what’s going on now,” Yasmine spat.

  “No further details were given to me, Ms. Strummer. I’m only obeying orders. Please…pack a few things, because we’re out of time.”

  Yasmine had no reason to doubt Albert’s words. He’d safely taken care of her for almost two months without a stitch of a problem. But for some reason she could not explain why her suspicion kept growing by the minute. If her apartment had truly been compromised, why would Mitchell send a chauffeur to do the work of a trained bodyguard? Unless, Albert was more than just a chauffeur. Come to think of it, Albert had never spoken to her so forcibly until now and it made Yasmine feel as if she suddenly couldn’t trust anyone.

  She began punching in Mitchell’s cell phone number. “I’ll leave with you when I have full confirmation of this story”

  “Ms. Strummer,” Albert begged. “You are one of the most significant witnesses the prosecution has at the moment. I will lose my job if anything happens to you –”

  Albert’s body jerked suddenly, as if he’d been hit by a lightning bolt. He gurgled his last words before his eyes flipped to the back of his head and he fell forward toward the floor. Standing in place was a masked gunman, revealing the weapon he had used to send Albert to an early grave. It took a few seconds for everything to make sense to Yasmine. She spun around, ready to bolt, but was hindered by the menacing words of the gunman.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, “because as you have just seen, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your spine. Now turn around and come to me slowly.”

  Yasmine obeyed, unable to produce a sensible scream. Clearly, this was no random act of violence but the careful planning of her malevolent stepfather. How in the world had he found her so quickly? And how had he even broken through the security measures of the Devin’s Cay Police? She should have listened to Albert and escaped while they had a chance. But now the poor man was dead because of her need to validate her suspicion. It was a bit late to say she now understood what Albert meant when he said that her apartment had been compromised.

  How stupid could she be? If she went along with this gunman, she could kiss her pathetic life goodbye, along with her virtual rendezvous with Levi. Because Yasmine knew the only intention that her stepfather had was to kill her. Why would he allow her to live when she was practically the only witness that could put him behind bars for life?

  The gunman opened the trunk of a rental car and said with a murderous tone, “Get in, and if you make a sound I will break your neck.”

  Yasmine stanched, “I’m not going in that trunk.”

  “The hell you are.”

  “The hell I’m not –”

  With one swift move, the gunman connected his right fist with Yasmine’s jaw. She didn’t see it coming. She stumbled into the gunman’s waiting arms in a way that allowed him to push her headfirst into the trunk. Masking tape was used to bind Yasmine’s mouth, hands and feet – the way he’d seen it done in the movies. The gunman was so busy enjoying the torture of a helpless woman that he didn’t notice Yasmine’s cell phone inching out of her jeans pocket. As he slammed the trunk shut, he pulled out his own cell phone to call Ronnie.

  “I have her,” he said. “Do you still want me to bury her alive? I just bought a brand new shovel.”

  “Bury her?” Ronnie sounded appalled. “What the devil are you on?”

  “You said that you wanted to bury her alive.”

  Ronnie laughed. “Must you take everything so literally? But that’s why I value your services so much, because you know how to get the job done. Yasmine will die, but you will obey my instructions on how to go about it. Do you understand?”

  “Your men here in Tampa are ready do to anything you want. Make it plain and we’ll take care of it.”

  “Good to know, because that whore is not worthy to “house” any seed of mine. Ensure that my DNA is ripped from her womb. And if she remains alive after that, then you can do whatever comes natural to you. I’m certain your sick mind will come up with something interesting.”

  ****

  Back at Yasmine’s apartment where Albert lolled from a superficial gunshot wound to his back, his cell phone suddenly came alive with a piercing ring and disturbed the quiet atmosphere. Albert sprang up, knowing the call would be from Officer Mitchell. He usually called first thing in the morning to get an update on Yasmine’s daily movements and at times would give Albert a list of duties to perform. Mitchell was incredibly perceptive and Albert’s only fear was having Mitchell figure out that one of his officers had switched to the dark side for the sake of filthy lucre.

  “Sir?”

  “Good morning, Albert,” Mitchell greeted. “Any change in the routine?”

  Albert answered like he usually did. “All is going according to plan, sir.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”

  “Well, I noticed a missed call from Ms. Strummer. I called her back a few times, but I’m not getting an answer.”

  Albert spoke slowly because he had a tendency to stammer when he lied. “It’s just shortly after eight in the morning; maybe she has gone back to sleep.”

  “Probably.”

  “I will go over to her apartment and have her call you.”

  “No, don’t bother,” Mitchell said. “I will try again later. Continue to keep a close eye on her; as you are well aware, she’s the only credible witness the prosecution has against John Dewey.”

  Albert had been hoping that Mitchell would end the conversation in that manner; otherwise, it would mean that he had shot himself in the foot if Mitchell had agreed to speak to Yasmine right then. That was a close call and Albert knew there would be several others over the next forty-eight hours as long as Mitchell was in charge of the investigation.

  Squinting his eyes in pain, he raised up his shirt and removed the bullet proof vest. He rubbed the spot on his lower back where the bullet had struck. It’d stung the heck out of him, but it was all part of the plan to make his wound look real in front of Yasmine, just in case he had to explain this mess. He then called the gunman to get an update on how things were proceeding with Yasmine.

  “Is it safe to come out?”

  “I shoved that whore into the trunk ten minutes ago,” the gunman spat. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I was smoothing things over with Mitchell,” Albert said. “Yasmine got suspicious and called him, but luckily she didn’t get through in time. All of this could have been avoided if you hadn’t taken so long to shoot me.”

  “To hell with that dumb cop. And to hell with your complaining. I was beginning to think that bullet actually made it through to your heart.”

  “Nope, I’m very much alive.” Albert didn’t like how pleased the gunman sounded when he said that. It made Albert feel as if Ronnie and his men still didn’t trust him. “And don’t call Mitchell dumb, because you don’t know him like I know him. He could smell a rat from beneath the ocean’s floor.”

  “Well, let the bastard keep smelling. We have a job to do. So get your face out here and let’s go!”

  Chapter Four

  Levi had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes for Yasmine to text him back, but he figured that she’d gotten caught up with whomever it was at her front door. He would love to wait around a little longer, but he had responsibilities – one that included taking six young men to the beach to strength train for the upcoming basketball tournament. Strength training, along with muscle building was right up Levi’s alley. It was how he’d built such an attractive and powerful physique. It was also the reason why he showed off so much skin – a testament to the hard work he’d put in over the years, sculpting a body that women like Sasha could appreciate.

  But now that Sasha was “officially” out of his life, he had no motivation to wear those “sexy” jersey shorts – as s
ome women had nicknamed them – or those sleeveless muscle shirts that drew attention to his bulging biceps. Lately, he’d been wearing the same grey jogging suit that kept his body fully covered. Besides, he was only issuing the commands to the boys, not physically getting into the routine with them. So he would maintain a cool temperature, having no need to show any skin.

  By the time Levi pulled up to Xavier High School, some of the boys were on the basketball court, doing layups. Eight thirty in the morning was not their usual schedule, but because the day of the tournament was so near, the principal had decided to give ear to Myles Deveron’s suggestion of letting the team practice for longer class periods – so long as they kept their grades in good standing. Myles, who was the sixteen-year-old point guard on the team who showed great leadership potential, was Levi’s favorite. So much so that Levi would go the extra mile to make sure Myles always had a means to get to the basketball practices.

  “Myles, I was expecting to see all of the team here by now,” Levi said, as he came up behind the boys. “I’m assuming everyone else has already gone to the beach?”

  “They wouldn’t do that, coach,” Myles said. “They know we all meet here at the school first. Besides, only Tony and Scott are missing.”

  “So why aren’t they here yet?”

  Myles shrugged, simultaneously saved by the voice of a woman.

  “Because they were with me,” she said, “helping me store away some boxes of books I’d packed this past Friday. I hope that wasn’t a problem.”

  Levi didn’t need to turn around to know that the voice belonged to Sasha. Her voice usually caused every muscle to tense in his body and that was exactly what was happening to him at that moment. “Actually,” he said turning around, “it is a problem. The national basketball tournament is less than three weeks away and I have the awesome responsibility of making sure these boys are able to perform at their best. I don’t need them getting distracted doing things they were not assigned to do.”

  “Seriously, Levi?” Sasha spat. “They were just moving a couple of boxes, which took no more than five minutes of their time. Besides, you weren’t here –”