by Sadie Black
Kendra kneels on the floor beside me, rubbing my shoulder sympathetically. “Hey, we’re gonna figure this out, ok? I’m here for you, no matter what you decide.”
“It looks like my decision has been made for me.” I sweep my hand over the sea of castaway pregnancy tests drowning my future.
“Ok, but this isn’t that bad. Right? I mean, Bradley is a stand-up man, and you two seem pretty serious. So it’s early, and it’s unexpected, but give him a little credit. I bet he’ll be really supportive.”
“Yeah, just like Joseph.” I groan, remembering my high school sweetheart bumping into furniture as he stumbled out of my parents’ basement to literally run away from his responsibilities.
“Joseph?” Kendra’s face transforms into a question mark with her highly arched eyebrow and her mouth open in an ‘O’. “Joseph, what does he have to do with anything?”
Wipe my hands over my face, my fingers are coated in tears. I just leave my hands against my cheeks as a shield from Kendra’s enquiring eyes. “He, uh, well… I never told you this, but he got me pregnant senior year. When I decided to keep it, and he ran out. That’s why I went to live with my aunt. Dad kicked me out of the house when he found out. Then, two weeks later I had a miscarriage anyway, so it was a ton of drama for nothing.”
Kendra’s eyes are round with surprise, and she exhales like I just kicked her in the stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her quiet voice trembles. Her chin quivers a little, and her eyes fill up. “I hate that you went through that all alone! I could’ve helped you.”
“Shame,” I confess to my rug. “I fucked up, tore my family apart, I thought I ruined my life and then just as I was getting used to the idea-- I lost the baby. I just,” tears stream down over my cheeks, “I didn’t want you to think less of me too.”
Kendra throws her arms around me as we mourn the past. Crying into her shoulder, I wonder how much of this history is going to repeat itself. She waits patiently until my sobs subside and places one hand on each of my shoulders, looking me in my puffy eyes. “No matter what happens this time, I’ll be right by your side, ok? You can do this, and I’ll help you. Besides,” she adds cheerfully, ‘’how amazing is it that we’re going to have our babies around the same time? They’re going to be best friends just like their Mamas,” she gives my shoulder a little squeeze, smiling.
I smile weakly. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll do what she can to be there for me. The question is: will Bradley?
Every time the bus stops, my anxiety climbs. When I called Bradley and told him I needed to see him, he offered to pick me up and take me to dinner, but I turned him down on both counts. I knew the second I sat in his car with him that I’d blurt everything out. If I did somehow make it all the way to the restaurant first, the last thing I want is to discuss such a serious issue while waiters interrupt us with water refills and spouting off dinner specials. No. The best plan is to tell him in the privacy of his place. That way, if I do need to leave, it can be done with my head held high. Not after waiting through awkward silence for a check to arrive.
Stop expecting the worst. Bradley Sheppard isn’t like Joseph White in any way. For one, Joe was only seventeen when I broke the news to him. Obviously, Bradley is more mature, not to mention sweet, generous and loving. Yet, we’ve only known each other for a month and a half. I knew Joseph for two years, and that history didn’t mean anything as he ran out the door without looking back. Even though that was another man, and I use that term loosely, and another time, I still can’t shake my doubts that this time will be much better.
As the bus pulls up to my stop, I briefly consider staying in my seat and just riding to the end of the route. The thought is powerful but fleeting. I push my shoulders back and hold my chin high as I walk off the bus toward my fate.
“Come in! Let me get your jacket.” Bradley holds out his hands ready to hang up my coat.
“Um, no. I have a bit of a chill. I’ll just keep it on for now, thanks,” I lie, following him into his apartment. I want to wait and see how this is going to go before I start getting too comfortable.
“Uh, sure. No problem.” He frowns at the floor. “Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine?”
“No!” I don’t mean to be so emphatic; I’m just nervous. Inside voice Brianna, calm down. “A water would be great though.”
Bradley motions to take a seat in his living room. “You’re right, it’s too early for wine anyway.” He walks into his custom kitchen. “I’ll just get us both a water.” Returning with a couple of bottles of Evian, he joins me on the sofa. “So, how is everything with you?” I can hear the strain in his voice as he looks for clues on my face.
“Well, they’ve been better.” Even after a long swig of my water, my throat still feels parched. “It’s been a rough couple of days. I’ve really needed to talk to you, but I didn’t want to do this over the phone…”
“Wait, Brianna.” He holds his hand up like a stop sign, cutting me off. “Everything can be explained, ok? Can’t you just hear me out first?”
“No, not right now. There’s something I just have to get this off my chest first…”
“Brianna!” The exasperation is his voice shuts me up. “There isn’t another woman. How could there be? After I met you, I didn’t want to meet anyone else…”
“No, that’s not what I wanted to say. Not exactly.” Have my hands ever been this interesting before? I can’t seem to tear my eyes off them as they tremble slightly. He’s not Joseph, Brianna. Give him a chance.
Bradley’s ringing phone interrupts our moment, a moment that feels like it’s locked in ice and lost in darkness. I’m in a dreamlike daze as he answers and walks into the kitchen. I let my thoughts drift away from my fears and let myself imagine, just for a moment, how this could go. The Hudson looks absolutely spectacular from Bradley’s window. What if we’re meant to be? Maybe I could spend my mornings soaking in that view over breakfast, and lunch, and dinner…
“What? Where?” Bradley yells into the phone and freezes in place. “No! Don’t do anything until I get there!” His body contorts like he’s been sucker punched. “I will be there in less than four hours,” he looks at his watch frantically, “five at the most. Just hold on.”
Hanging up the phone, he looks around the apartment wildly as my confusion grows. “What’s going on? Are you leaving?”
“Yes, I have to go right now. Where the fuck is my bag?” He runs down the hallway to his room, and I follow like a confused child who’s woken up from a bout of sleepwalking.
“You have to go now? Right now? You’re running out the door again? For god-knows-what and for god-knows-how-long. Bradley! I’m sick and tired of this! I’m not gonna be in a relationship with some kind of fucking Houdini. Hey, are you even listening to me?” I watch as he tosses some clothes and deodorant in a gym bag and brushes past me.
“Look, I don’t have time to get into all of this right now. My little girl is sitting with a goddamned social worker, and I need to go get her. If you want to know why I keep taking off, then just come with me. I don’t have time to explain it; I have to get on a flight!” Bradley scoops up his keys and double checks his pants for his wallet as I stand in the center of his bedroom frozen. His little girl? A social worker? My mind keeps turning over the words, but they aren’t making sense.
“Bradley, what the hell are you talking about?” I twist my hands in frustration. “Just give me five minutes and tell me what the hell is going on,” I plead.
“Brianna! I don’t have time for this! Are you coming or not? I have to go now!” The panic in his eyes makes my stomach lurch.
I want to blurt out my news. Tell him I’m pregnant and for him to hold me. The moment when I actually saw this all working out is evaporating in front of my eyes and I want it back. Yet, my curiosity is overwhelming. Since I’ve met Bradley, he’s been running out the door. If I go with him, I might finally get some answers. Or at least
a clearer picture of who the father of my child is. I need to know what this is all about. Who is the mysterious magnet that keeps pulling him from my life. His little girl? Another child? I can’t stay in the dark anymore, I need to know what’s going on. “I’m coming.”
DEVOTED
Part Two
A BWWM Interracial Romance Serial
First edition. July 7, 2015.
Copyright © 2015 Sadie Black.
Written by Sadie Black.
The right of Sadie Black to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This book was published by Sadie Black. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters represented within are eighteen years of age or older and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work is property of Sadie Black, please do not reproduce illegally.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Thank you for supporting the hard work of Indie authors.
Please note that this is a work of adult fiction and contains graphic descriptions of sexual activity, graphic language, and violence. It is intended for mature readers aged 18 over only. All characters depicted as engaging in sexual activity in this work of fiction are consenting adults, eighteen years of age or older. Blood relatives never engage in sexual activity of any kind.
Chapter 1
Brianna
“Damn it, Dwight, I don’t have all day,” Bradley growls at his iPad waiting for his lawyer to send him a link. As if on command, his inbox makes the familiar ding announcing new mail, and Bradley wastes no time opening the message. I watch as his finger hovers over the blue link trembling slightly before he presses it. A YouTube video opens, giving us a glimpse into a sunny afternoon on the beach. The owner of the shaky footage is recording a beach volleyball game while giggling with her friend about some cute guys. Sure enough, the cell phone footage sweeps across the sand to the glistening hard bodies of two 20-something white guys in long board shorts standing around pretending that they’re trying not to be noticed. Although their inexplicable flexing and slightly oiled up muscles are telling a different story.
The camera quickly sweeps back across the sand and a blast of wind hits the speaker making Bradley and I both jump in our seats. I’m still waiting for something in this video to explain why we’re sitting on a private jet heading for Florida right now. The volleyball game barely comes back into focus when the girl behind the camera decides to focus on a woman walking into the water with a large basket instead.
“Oh my God Julia, look at her! I told you this beach was full of crazies.” The unidentified recorder laughs as she gains the attention of her friend. They both break out into a giggle fest as we watch the woman walk into the waves fully clothed. The water splashes up over her shoes as she struggles to keep the basket balanced. Her jeans are soaking up the waves lapping at her ankles, yet she seems oblivious. Her only focus is holding the basket steady as she moves forward deeper into the rolling ocean waves.
The woman stops in her tracks, wrestling to hang onto the basket which seems to be jostling in her hands. In the background, a couple of teenage boys stop splashing water at each other to turn and stare. Bradley and I watch in horror as the woman tries to shove something back down into the basket. No longer able to contain the movements, the woman leans over and holds it on the surface of the water. The reason for her struggles are quickly revealed when a tiny toddler almost flips it upside down in an attempt to stand up, throwing her arms around the woman’s neck.
Bradley and I gasp at the same time as the girls behind the camera, my breathing slows down as my heartbeat seems to rise in my throat. What the hell is she doing? The child is crying so frantically that we can’t hear anything except “Mama please! Mama, Mama.”
The woman looks completely unaffected, almost like a zombie. It’s like she’s taken too much Ambien. I’ve seen this look before, it’s a look of hopelessness, of giving up. Screams rip through the iPad speakers so loudly that they crackle. On the screen the cell phone jostles around, but footage remains fixed on the woman and child. She’s trying to pry her child’s arms from around her neck in an eerily calm manner. It’s like she’s running on autopilot as she attempts to make the panic-stricken little girl sit down in the wooden basket bobbing on the waves.
“James! James! Get over here, look at this woman. Stop her! What is she doing? Oh my God, she’s going to drown that kid! Holy fuck she’s gonna drown her!” The woman behind the camera starts screaming. Apparently the consequences of crazy aren’t funny to her anymore.
A rumble of screaming and yelling erupts over the beach as more people take notice, still the woman looks completely unaffected by the scene she’s causing. Her sole focus is on keeping the little girl in the basket. Two college age boys slice through the water and reach her as the woman is still attempting to push the basket away after successfully pulling her daughter’s arms off of her.
The little girl is screaming in a cry of desperation that can only come from sheer terror. Above the screams of the panic-struck crowd, I can hear the little girl’s cries cut through them all begging the woman, “Mama no! Please, please Mama no. No!” She sobs over and over.
I twist my head away from the screen, afraid of what I might see next. Bradley is completely absorbed in the video, hunched toward the image. His face is twisted in anguish and his eyes are misting up with tears as he continues watching. I can’t stand to see him like this, so helpless. I go back to watching the horrible video instead.
It isn’t until one of the good Samaritans pulls the basket away from her that the woman seems to come to, like somebody snapped their fingers beside her at a hypnotist show. I actually see her shoulders twitch like she was shaken from some sort of deep dream… or nightmare. When she sees the young man attempt to rescue the girl she begins to freak out, you would think from her reaction that he’s trying to kill her. The woman begins thrashing and jerking as one of the men holds her tight. She’s still trying with all her might to kick the basket into the water. She’s screaming and writhing as though she is possessed.
Luckily, the young man has a firm grasp on the little girl. He easily pulls her free and holds her safely over the water as her little toes dangle by his side. The other young man is forced to restrain the woman. She looks like she could become violent at any second. As he holds her arms behind her, she twists and flails about.
Her face is contorted with anger, “You ruined everything! She needs to be found in the reeds, I need to save her from the Pharaoh! You don’t understand, Moses, he came to me in a dream. He told me!”
The young man carrying the child brings her safely back to the shore and a crowd of mostly women surround them. People are clapping, others have their hands drawn to their chest in horror at the scene that just unfolded in front of them. In the background security is racing up the beach, spitting sand from their tires at anyone foolish enough to still be lying on their towels in their path. The cell phone camera swirls back over to the woman in the water. She’s sobbing and leaning over like she’s trying to unclasp herself from the man’s grasp and float away into the ocean herself. She’s still pleading her case with conviction, “You don’t understand,” she cries over and over.
“Oh my God, that bitch is so fucking crazy. She just tried to kill her kid! Did you see that?”
The video is abruptly ended, but the scene of the terrified child and the sobbing mother are burned into my mind. The moment is already replaying itself over and over in horrifying detail. Bradley and I are both still frozen, staring at the screen despite the fact that the video is over, apparently in the sam
e deep traumatized trance.
My hand instinctively hovers over my belly as fat tears roll down my cheeks. I can barely swallow, feeling like somebody punched me right in the throat. How can anyone harm a child? The idea of rips a hole in my heart. Glancing at Bradley’s set jaw and white knuckled grip on the armrest, he appears to be equally affected by the video not with sadness, but with rage.
“Was, I mean, is that your daughter?” I whisper the words over my strained vocal chords. Bradley finally looks up from the screen, his hazel eyes darkened by anger. He shakes his head slowly side to side, wordlessly, but his face tells me exactly what he’s feeling.
“No. Brooklyn isn’t my daughter, she’s my niece. Fuck Eileen!” He slams his fist on the armrest making me jump at the unexpected outburst. “I’m sorry,” he unfurls his fingers and rubs them over my shoulder gently, reassuring me. “I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s just, well, this is a lot to take in right now.” He sweeps his hand toward the iPad, now turned off and reflecting our anguish back at us. I nod in agreement as Brooklyn’s frantic face flashes before my eyes again bringing fresh tears with the memory.
