I saw things much differently than Roc did, but didn’t say what I felt. To me, he had a choice. Many doors opened for him, but he chose to close them. Opportunity after opportunity presented itself, but Roc had a mindset that the world he lived in was set in stone by those who came before him. According to him, his mother, father, and Ronnie had set it all up for him, leaving him very little options. He had options, but settled for what he thought was best. This time, his best wasn’t good enough for him, for me, or for his children. His decision affected many lives, and there was no way for us to go back and turn back the hands of time.
The guard allowed Roc and me to embrace. He even threw in a lengthy kiss, implying that it was one of his privileges. We stood forehead to forehead, searching into each other’s eyes.
“Take care, Snookums. I’ll write you back and keep in touch.”
“No doubt. When you get home, do me a favor. Look in yo’ garage, by the lawn mower, okay? I got a surprise for you and I want you to keep it.”
I nodded, and after one final kiss, Roc left the room.
I was so happy on my way back home, and was glad that I’d gone to see him. It gave me closure and that was truly something I needed. When I got back home, Latrel was in the yard playing with Chassidy. I kissed the both of them, then went to the garage to see what Roc had left.
While searching, I found a black leather briefcase tucked away in the corner. I flipped the locks and it came open. Inside was money. There were stacks and stacks of one-hundred dollar bills, and I couldn’t even imagine how much money it was. I knew it was enough money where I could quit my job and live off of it for the rest of my life. I could travel the world . . . pay for Chassidy’s education. Roc had put a note inside, telling me that he was saving this money for a rainy day.
I knew this day would come and I want you and my child to have everything you need.
Love, Snookums.
I kept the note, but closed the suitcase tight. Didn’t he get to know me at all, I thought. I rushed outside, telling Latrel that I would be right back. I knew he had to drive back to school tonight, but I had to do this. I drove like a bat out of hell to Roc’s penthouse, and just my luck, Ronnie was standing outside talking to several men. Some kids were nearby on a playground playing and many young men were outside playing basketball. I parked, making my way up to Ronnie with the briefcase in my hand.
“Don’t start none, won’t be none,” he said.
“Go to hell, Ronnie. And I want you to know that this shit ain’t over just yet. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you pay for what you’ve done to Roc and your downfall is definitely coming.”
I flipped open the suitcase and several guns were aimed at me.
“Hold it down,” he ordered.
“This belongs to you.”
I tossed the suitcase high up in the air and all the bills came tumbling down like rain. The young men playing basketball chased after the money, and so did the kids from the playground. I headed back to my car, not knowing if a bullet was going to catch me from behind or not. I heard Ronnie mumble “stupid bitch” and he yelled for his men to get as much of the money as they could. I sped off, closing one long chapter in my life, happily waiting for the next.
Latrel was home for the summer and was now in his junior year at college. He was doing well in school and I couldn’t be more proud. Reggie was glad that his son was doing well too, and even though we both felt the same way, unfortunately, our friendship never did rekindle. He was so upset with me for getting pregnant by Roc, and according to Reggie, each time he saw Chassidy it just broke his heart. I was sorry to hear that, because my heart was fulfilled. He was the one already planning for a second divorce and it was so funny how things had managed to turn around.
I told Roc that I would keep in touch that day, but our conversations were here, there, and far in-between. I had at least a hundred letters from him, but he’d gotten minimal from me. I wanted so badly to forgive him for taking the fall for Ronnie, but as I watched Chassidy get older, without having him in her life, I couldn’t get over what he’d done. It wasn’t like Roc would have been the perfect role model or anything, but to me, he could have changed his life around and tried to be there for his daughter. He was starting to prove that he wanted to do it, but the grip that Ronnie had on him was hard to break. In knowing so, I washed my hands clean and did my best to never look back.
I could hear Latrel outside playing with Chassidy in her rubber-ducky blow-up swimming pool he’d gotten her. He had the music up loud, but I could hear the water splashing, along with her laughter. I was in the kitchen preparing dinner and had bent over to remove the croissants from the oven. I burned my hand, immediately snatching it away from the hot pan.
“Ouch,” I yelled, placing the tip of my tongue on my finger to cool it. I opened the pantry closet, looking for my oven mitten to use. The back door came open, and I heard Chassidy calling for me.
“Here I come, sweetie,” I said, looking for my mitten. “Latrel, turn that music down a little and did you turn off the water outside?”
He didn’t answer and when I stepped away from the closet to see why, I got the shock of my life. My heart picked up speed and I blinked several times, just to be sure. I saw those dimples that I figured I’d never see again. Those pearly whites were still going strong and the man whom I craved for was still clean-cut as ever. Roc balanced Chassidy on his shoulders, while she bent down pecking the top of his head.
“Daddy’s home,” he said. “I told you I was gon’ do this, didn’t I? Question is . . . Who you wit, Dez? You still wit me or wit some other nigga? Tell me what’s up?”
I swallowed, speechless as ever. I hadn’t a clue how I would answer his question, and a huge part of me thought this day would never, ever come.
Seven Year Itch
By
La Jill Hunt
Acknowledgments
First, as always, I would like to thank God for his continual and steadfast blessing. For everything, Lord, I say thanks.
To my daughters: Alyx, who has grown into a beautiful, young woman; Kamaryn, who continues to strive in everything she does, and Ken-nedey, who keeps me laughing and entertained. I don’t know what I would do without you all.
To my family, for their support.
To my friends Yvette Lewis, Chenay Cuffee, Anisha Holmes, Monica Simon, Monteal Cuffee, Nakea Murray, Shantel Spencer, Joycelyn W. Ward, Saundra White, Scott Ward, W. Jermaine Roach, Tasha Price, Robin LeBron, Leslie Dickey, Tamara James, and Rosnette Hayes. Thanks for being there for me.
To my literary twin Dwayne S. Joseph, I am so proud of you and can’t wait to see Eye for an Eye blow up. Do your thing, D!
To my agent, Portia Cannon for enduring the headache that comes with that responsibility.
To Trevis L. Brown, for trusting me with all that you are, and loving me with all that I am. I love and thank you, Bae for believing in me, and all that WE can make happen.
To Urban Books, again, thank you for another opportunity to release the DRAMA.
For my fans and readers, for all of the e-mails, messages, and support of all the DRAMA I write. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
To anyone I may have forgotten, believe me, it wasn’t intentional. Insert your name here _________ and know that I thank you too.
Feel free to hit me up at [email protected] or on Facebook or Myspace.
Prologue
Am I dead? I can’t be dead; my head hurts too bad for me to be dead. If I were dead, I wouldn’t feel so shitty. Oh God, I wish I was dead rather than feel like this.
Avery tried opening her eyes, but the brightness of the sun peeking through the window caused her to quickly shut them. Without a doubt, this was the hangover of all hangovers. Her stomach flip-flopped and she tried to suppress the wave of nausea rising. She could tell by the feel of the bed and the scent of the room that she wasn’t at home, that was for sure. The question was, where the hell was she and how the hell
did she get there? Everything seemed to be a blur. She remembered attending the company gala at the Pavilion, and then someone suggested they all go for drinks afterward. She recalled being at a bar, then arguing with someone—that was it. The more she tried to remember, the worse she felt. She was definitely going to be sick. Slowly sitting up, she spotted a doorway opening to a bathroom and she rushed inside, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting.
I may not be dead, but I’m dying, she thought as she leaned her sweat-drenched face against the cool porcelain of the toilet. I can’t believe this, I never get drunk. What the hell was I thinking? Before she could think of an answer, another wave of nausea overcame her and again she vomited for what seemed like hours.
“Are you okay?”
If she would have had the energy, Avery probably would have been startled out of her mind. Instead, she just glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, holding what seemed to be a glass of water and a towel. Instead of answering, she just closed her eyes. Moments later, she felt his arms around her, lifting her off the floor, something few guys were able to do considering her stature. But he seemed to have no problem picking all 232 pounds up and carrying her back to the bed that she had crawled out of.
“Thanks,” she murmured, pulling the covers over her body. She felt too bad to even be concerned about the fact that the only thing she wore was a bra, camisole, and her panties.
“Here, drink some of this,” he said. “You don’t need to get dehydrated.”
Avery sat up to take a sip of the water, praying that it wouldn’t come back up. “What time is it?”
“Almost one,” he said, handing her two small tablets. She hesitated before taking them.
“They’re just aspirin, Avery. That’s all,” he said, smiling. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” Avery replied. “I just don’t feel right. Like something’s weird.”
“It’s called a hangover.”
“No, I’ve had a hangover before. But this is different.”
“Different how?” He frowned.
“Like, I can’t remember anything from last night. Everything is all fuzzy.”
“Avery, I hope you don’t think I did anything to you, because I swear, I didn’t,” he quickly told her. “You called me from some bar downtown and when I got there, you were in the corner waiting for me. You passed out in the backseat as soon as you got in the car. You didn’t have a purse, a cell phone. I didn’t know what to do. I called Tabitha, she didn’t answer, so I just brought you here. When I put you in the bed, you were dressed; you must’ve taken your own clothes off. I ain’t do that. I didn’t touch you.”
Their eyes met and she became lost in his piercing gaze. His dark eyes told her things that she knew he felt, but dared not say to her, out of respect for her, and their friendship. She wondered if her eyes told him the same things. They were friends, nothing more and she knew she could trust him.
Avery shook her head at him. “I know you didn’t.”
She knew her body, and could tell that nothing sexual had taken place, which was a relief. And she also wasn’t surprised when he said she had taken her own clothes off. Avery didn’t get drunk very often, but when she did, stripping her clothes off was one of the side effects. Once, in college, she had taken all of her clothes off in the middle of the dorm hallway. That was one of the reasons she didn’t drink to the point to where she was inebriated.
“I just wanna make that clear,” he said.
“But where is my purse and stuff? Was I robbed?”
“I don’t think so,” he answered. “You called me from your cell. You probably left it in the bar.”
Avery tried to remember, but it was too fuzzy. She took another sip of water, “Why the hell can’t I remember anything?”
“Hey, lay back down for a while. We’ll figure this all out when you’re feeling better,” he told her. “I’ll check on you in a little while.”
“Thanks,” Avery said, drifting off to sleep. As much as she wanted to figure out what all had transpired last night, she wanted to go to sleep even more.
Three hours later, Avery woke again. This time when she opened her eyes, she had energy enough to sit up without feeling as if the world was spinning around her and she was going to puke her insides out. She still had a slight headache, but it was bearable. She felt better. Until she realized that she hadn’t been home, hadn’t called home, and her man was probably worried to death about her. She pulled herself together, took a quick shower and graciously accepted a T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats to wear home. The twenty-minute ride to her house was mostly silent with the exception of the Anthony Hamilton CD playing. She was grateful for the silence, not knowing what to expect when she got to her house. She tried calling Duke, but didn’t get an answer and left him a message saying she was on her way home. When they got to the neighborhood, she glanced over to see his reaction. He had to be wondering why a single, educated female making over sixty thousand dollars a year lived in a neighborhood as pitiful as the one she did.
She directed him to pull into the driveway directly behind her Maxima. As soon as he did so, the screen door opened and Duke walked outside. The frowns in his face were so deep Avery could see them from where she was sitting. She knew he was pissed, and that was understandable. She would be pissed too if he had done the same thing to her.
“Time to face the music,” she said, shrugging.
“You gonna be all right?”
“Of course,” she told him, “Believe me, his bark is worse than his bite.”
“Still, maybe I should walk you to the door and help you explain what happened,” he offered.
Avery paused before opening the car door. “I don’t even know exactly what happened or how to explain it. I’m good, really.”
Before she could stop him, he opened his own car door and hopped out. “What’s up, Duke.”
God, please don’t let Duke act a fool out here, Avery prayed, quickly getting out.
“Hey, baby,” she said, putting her arms around him. Duke stiffened, causing her to pull away quickly. “Did you get my message?”
“Yeah, I got it,” he said, still staring at Kurt.
Avery looked down at her clothes and realized how crazy she must look in the T-shirt, sweats, and black stiletto heels with her hair standing all over her head. “It’s a long story, believe me.”
“Hey, the important thing is you’re home and you’re safe, right, Duke?”
“So, you spent the night with him?” Duke finally spoke.
“Yeah,” Avery answered.
“Interesting,” Duke said.
“Only because she called me,” Kurt said. “She was wasted and needed a ride.”
“You called him instead of calling me,” Duke said, sounding more like a statement rather than a question.
Avery tried to remember whether or not she called Duke. Just as she was about to speak, a blue BMW pulled in front of the house. All three of them turned and watched as the door opened and Demi stepped out.
“Demi, what are you doing here?” Avery was surprised.
“I brought your purse and phone that you left at the bar,” Demi said, passing Avery the small black clutch purse, then said suspiciously, “I’m glad to see you made it home. When Duke called your phone last night, I told him you left with a friend and I would make sure to bring your things over this afternoon.”
Avery glanced over at Duke and saw the anger in his eyes. She knew what he had to have been thinking, especially after Demi telling him that. But none of it was making sense. She reached in her purse and took out her phone, scrolling through her call history. What the hell happened? Come on Avery, think.... Try. . . . Remember.... the party . . . the bar . . . Demi. . . . Duke.... Demi....
Suddenly, as if a dark veil was lifted, it all became clear. Avery’s breathing began to become labored and without thinking twice, she attacked.
Chapter One
Six Mont
hs Earlier
Avery sat in the driveway watching the rain hit the windshield of her car. She had been waiting fifteen minutes for it to stop, or at least slack up enough for her to run into the house. But it seemed to drag on and on, much like her day. As if Mondays weren’t bad enough. Since Duke hadn’t gone to the grocery store like he had been promising to do for the past three days, Avery had been forced to fight the first-of-the-month crowd at the Food Zone on the way home. After dealing with screaming toddlers throwing temper tantrums in the middle of the aisles and their loud, non-attentive mothers who were so busy yapping on their cell phones to even care that their kids were acting like misbehaved brats, then waiting in line for thirty minutes, Avery discovered that someone had politely helped themselves to her wallet. She knew she had it when she arrived at the store because she had double-checked it to make sure she had her Food Zone discount savers card. Those sorry, thieving bastards, Avery thought as she looked around the store for the culprit. Everyone near her looked like they had a reason to, and could have lifted her wallet and they all seemed to purposely be avoiding her looks. This is why I hate this neighborhood. Gangbangers, hoochies, and ghetto dwellers who are too trifling to go to school, get a job, and do something with their lives. Instead, they would rather steal from people like me who work hard for what they have. Without her wallet, she was forced to leave her items in the basket and go home. As soon as she walked out the store, the sky seemed to open up and cry, the same way she wanted to. She thought about calling the police, but there was no point. First of all, she doubted that they would even show up in the middle of the hood, and second, the culprit was probably so far gone and had already taken the twelve dollars in cash she had inside, bought the drug of their choice, and was already high as gas.
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