“There she is son,” Henry said to Hunter.
For a brief second, she lifted her head to climb the stairs to the door, and all Hunter could think about was just how stunning she was. When a few strands of hair whipped across her face before she tucked them neatly behind her ear, it suddenly dawned on him that she was the same woman that ran into him at the elevator. Dad was right; she did look like Ghani when she was young. Being a cautious man however, he was not about to trust that. Only a DNA test would convince him, but until then he would keep a close eye on her.
“Let her go inside son,” Henry admonished. “I don’t want to talk about this in the street.”
Hunter nodded his head in agreement. The area she lived in was not as shoddy as some in Little Rock, but it certainly wasn’t the best of neighborhoods. Why would a person, any person, purposely move into such a neighborhood? His first thought was that she’d needed money. She’d probably read somewhere of the Trent’s wealth and wanted to scam the family, namely his father. It wouldn’t be the first time and probably won’t be the last, he was sure of that, but maybe the same woman that tried to kill his father all those years ago was not dead and convinced this Mya Taylor into getting money and revenge for her. Hunter’s dark eyes narrowed in thought. His brothers always said he had a suspicious mind, and that may be true, but his suspicious mind had gotten him out of many an uncomfortable situation. If this Mya Taylor wasn’t who she said she was and simply wanted something, he be damned if he’d let her use his father to get it.
“Dad, I got a bad feeling about this,” Hunter warned. “I don’t want you to get caught up in this woman. All this may be nothing more than a set up.”
His father was a brilliant man and business leader with a heart of gold and a heartfelt desire to help every downtrodden person around.
“I won’t son, I simply need to know if she’s my daughter,” Henry commented before getting out of the car. “Her resemblance to your grandmother is so uncanny. Oh and by the way son, it’s good to see that suspicious mind of yours hard at work again.”
“Dad, I just think it’s strange that after some twenty odd years, this woman decides to locate her father. Now I could be wrong, but if you want my opinion I think she’s after something.”
“Son, I…”
“Dad, I just want you to be cautious that’s all.”
Henry nodded his head and looked at Hunter fondly. He may not have his blood, but he was more son than any man could want.
“Look Hunter, I don’t know if she is after something or not, but for my own peace of mind I need to know if I am her father.”
“Okay then Dad. Let’s get this over with,” Hunter relented, getting out of the car.
With that, both men, handsome and well-built, climbed the three stairs to the door.
Mya sat on her use sofa staring out at nothing. Now knowing that Henry Trent was not her father opened her eyes and maybe even hardened her heart just a little. All she ever wanted was to be loved or just to be treated nicely. Her mother certainly never had any kind words to her, and even when her many boyfriends tried to touch her, her mother would call her a whore and accuse her of flirting. The only person that treated her kindly was Mrs. Jenkins when they lived in Alabama. She was 15 at the time, and Mrs. Jenkins lived below them.
Mrs. Jenkins was a widow who lived alone and was the nicest person she had ever met. She also did not like her mother. Many times Mrs. Jenkins had to call the police when Mama would get drunk with her latest beau and the arguments began which sometimes turned into fights between the two of them. And when her mother started taking her temper out on Mya and began beating her, Mrs. Jenkins threatened to call the police, but it was Mya who would beg Mrs. Jenkins not to, afraid they would make her a ward of the state. So despite the abuse, she put up with the beatings.
There was this one time however, that her mother beat her severely that she suffered a bruised face, bloody nose, and cracked ribs, and the only reason Mrs. Jenkins knew about this particular beating was that she came to tell Mama to stop the noise over her head. Her mother was so intent with her punishment that she didn’t hear it when Ms. Jenkins walked in on her and saw Mya curled up on the floor in a fetal position. She lie there covering up and protecting her head while her mother kicked her and beat her with a small baton like object. Mrs. Jenkins, as small as she was, found the strength to pull her mother off her. She then told her mother that the only reason she wouldn’t call the police was because she made a promise that she wouldn’t, but if she ever saw her mother lay another hand on her again, she would break that promise and have the police there so fast that her head would spin.”
Mrs. Jenkins then gathered her up, took her to her apartment, and nursed her back to health for three weeks. She even tried to keep Mya well pass the time needed for her to heal, but her mother made her come home. She remembered hearing the two of them arguing, and when Mrs. Jenkins asked her mother if she loved her daughter, the words her mother said, and the conversation that followed would forever stay in Mya’s head:
Hell no. How can I love a child whose father I despise?
Then why did you keep her? Mrs. Jenkins then asked.
To get him back for putting me aside for someone else. When the time comes, he will know his child and he will pay for all the years I had to put up with her.
Mrs. Jenkins shook her head sadly.
Don’t look at me like that! Her mother screamed.
Please… let me keep her, Mrs. Jenkins offered.
Her mother laughed evilly. If I let you have her, who’s gonna take care of me? Look, let’s you and me get something straight Mrs. Jenkins, I hate Mya’s father. He was supposed to take care of me with all his money. Mya carries his blood and his family’s looks with all that funny colored hair and eyes, and the way I see it, he owes me and he’s going to pay. I hate her because his blood runs to her veins.
Mya wiped away a tear that rolled down her face. She knew she would never forget those words as long as she lived. She rose to prepare dinner for herself, and as she turned towards her small kitchen, a knock sounded at her door. She frowned. Who in the world would come here, she thought. She’s only been in town maybe a couple months. People she worked with didn’t talk to her on a personal level, and as far as she knew, she had never given her address to anyone. She caught herself, thinking her thoughts were the result of an over-reactive mind, and stretched her tensioned-filled shoulders thinking instead that it was more than likely just the mailman.
She went over to the door. “Who is it?” She asked.
“Henry Trent,” a firm male voice replied.
Stunned but those two simple words, Mya backed away from the door. What did he want she wondered? Tucking her hair behind her ear with a trembling hand, she debated with herself whether to open the door or not.
“Miss Taylor…” Henry again spoke through the door, this time a little more softly. “I would like to talk to you.”
Mya turned the lock and slowly opened the door.
“May I come in?” Henry said gently.
Mya’s eyes shifted between the two men. Both were extremely handsome; one dignified and the other drop dead gorgeous, and she could tell almost immediately just by looking at him that the younger one was not a full blood African-American. He was tall, well over six feet, with jet black hair that flowed freely passed his broad shoulders, and he had these sinfully long lashes that framed his dark eyes. He had a strong nose, full sensual lips, perfectly chisel cheekbones, and jaw line with a bronze complexion that only accentuated his exceptional looks. Her heart pounded nervously in her chest, but when her eyes met his, the coldness of his dark stare literally chilled her. Instead, she forced her eyes to the older man, and his kindly eyes implored her. She took a step back, opening the door wider to allow entry into her small home, and then closed the door behind them.
Hunter’s eyes perused the small, but very neat room. The sparsely furnished room had only a small sofa and a couple of woode
n chairs with cushion and an end table. Nothing adorned the white walls. There was not even a television in the room. Mya followed the men into the room looking confused.
“Mr. Trent, why are you here?” She asked softly.
Hunter’s eyes followed her as she passed by to face them. He thought she was stunning, but there had to be another word, perhaps one not yet written, to describe just how truly beautiful she was. His attraction was instantaneous and his eyes slowly roamed all over her. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see much of her body in the baggy jeans and sweatshirt she wore, nor could he see her tiny feet because she covered those with fluffy pink slippers.
A little nervous and dumbfounded, Henry took a deep breath. Although he had rehearsed what he would say in his mind on the way over, now that he was actually here, he didn’t know exactly how to address the issue.
Hunter, on the other hand, wasted no time with kind words and got right to the point. “My father wants proof of your claim,” he stated heartlessly. Henry glared at his son.
“I’m sorry Miss Taylor… this is my son, Hunter Mason.”
Mya looked at the fierce look on his handsome face, and nodded, acknowledging the introduction.
“Proof?” She repeated.
“Yes if you are willing to take a paternity test to prove your parentage we will know for certain if I am your father,” Henry explained.
Mya listened. It sounded more to her as if he was saying that he needed proof that she was not his child. How much more humiliation could she take.
“That will not necessary Mr. Trent. You have already told me that my mother was with other men, so I will accept what you said and leave it at that,” she replied.
She then moved to the door, and while her back was to the two men, she quickly blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. When did she become such a big crybaby? When her mother said hurtful things to her, it hurt at first, but those words didn’t faze her in the least when she learned how to harden herself against them. And now, the man who allegedly was her father was here making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her, but you know what? So what! Deciding that crying wouldn’t change that fact, she turned to face him, and when she did, both men looked at her, one with concern, and the other with suspicion.
“Mr. Trent I’m sorry I came to you and I promise you that I won’t bother you again.”
“You don’t seem to understand, Miss Taylor,” Hunter huffed. “My father needs to know if you are his child for his own peace of mind. We don’t like loose ends.”
Upon hearing his harsh words, Mya decided right then and there that she didn’t like this Hunter Mason. Suddenly, she could feel anger rising up within her, an emotion that she had certainly felt, but never expressed before, and she was about to let him have it with both barrels.
“Loose ends?” She repeated through clenched teeth.
“Why are you here after all these years?” He questioned in a stony tone, as if she were on trial. “What do you want?”
“Hunter, that’s enough,” Henry ordered, raising his voice. He understood that Hunter simply had his best interest at heart, but he was getting a little out of hand. He turned to Mya and unlike his son, spoke gently to her. “Miss Taylor, don’t you want to know?”
Did she honestly want to know? Right now she wasn’t so sure. Was Henry Trent the only man that her mother ever mentioned because he truly was her father? Or was it because her mother hated him so much? Mr. Trent implied there were others, and sadly, Mya could believe that. While growing up, Mama had more male friends than she had female, and it wasn’t all that unusual for her to date more than two men at a time. If she wanted a particular man, she had that particular man, or any man she thought could take care of her, and when their money ran out, or they refused to continue giving her money and things, she dropped them with no regrets. Mya lost count of how many families her mother destroyed over the years, only to dump the man if he did not live up to her standards. Men fell to her mother’s dainty little feet like puppies, and to say that she was pretty was an understatement. She was in fact the epitome of what lesser women strive to be. She had long dark hair and a body so toned and shapely that every man wanted her, and she used these attributes to conquer and destroy. Yes, she wanted to know.
“Yes,” Mr. Trent I would like to know.”
With a compassionate smile for the young woman, Henry reached into his breast pocket and handed her a card. “Go to the address on this card for the test and they will contact me when the results are in. As soon as I receive word, I will contact you,” Henry explained.
“How long will that take?” Mya asked.
“Two weeks at the most.”
Mya glanced at the man standing beside his father, marveling at just how different they were when it suddenly dawned on her that Hunter Mason could possibly be her brother and that it was not right for her to find him attractive.
“Thank you,” she replied softly.
“Until then, Miss Taylor,” Mr. Trent replied politely.
After they were gone, Mya leaned heavily against the door and said a silent prayer.
Chapter 3
It was about a week later and Hunter sat at his desk in his office. The sudden appearance of this woman claiming to be the long lost daughter of his father Henry disturbed him to no end, and he couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind. Did she think she was the only woman to claim to be his father’s love child, or to try to pull off some sort of blackmailing scheme? And so what if she resembled Ghani? That didn’t even matter one bit, especially when there are lots of ways to change one’s looks. Just ask any halfway decent plastic surgeon. It was the same thing with her hair. Sure, her hair was the same color as his grandmother’s, but a decent dye job could accomplish that in less than an hour. He bet if he took a closer look and parted her hair down to the roots, he’d see her real hair color. And as far as her eyes being the same amber shade as Ghani’s, contacts could fix that easy enough. Now she may be just as beautiful as Ghani had been in her younger years, but beauty or no beauty, he didn’t trust her and that was the bottom line. He was not going to stand aside and let this woman sucker his family. His father may have done a background check on her, but he wanted a more thorough investigation into her past and into her life, so he put his best friend Colin on the trail.
Colin Basin ran a very lucrative investigation company. After giving 20 years of service to the Bureau, Colin decided that he had had enough and retired, but after a month of living amongst the ranks of the unemployed and hobnobbing with other retirees, he got bored. Facing an otherwise dull existence unless he found a job to pass the time, but finding nothing worth his while, he went back to what he did best and the Basin Research Agency was born. He was now a happily married man and expecting his first child. After receiving the request from his good friend Hunter Mason a week ago, he called him early in the day to inform him that he and his team had finished their investigation and that he would be by to give Hunter his report within the hour.
After arriving at Trent and Mason and finding his way to Hunter’s office, the door opened and Colin walked inside. The two of them had been friends since high school, and even attended Morehouse College together, but while Colin wanted to serve the country and opted to join the Bureau after graduation, Hunter instead threw himself into the family business.
“Hello Hunter,” he greeted as Hunter met him at the door and shook his hand.
“Hello Colin. It’s been far too long,” Hunter smiled.
“How’s the family?” Colin asked courteously.
“Doing okay, and I’m going to keep it that way. What have you found out?”
Hunter invited him to sit with a wave of his hand, and after taking a seat, Colin pulled out a large envelope from his briefcase.
“Well, let me first begin by saying that Ione Taylor was a character. My team reports that everyone they talked to that knew of her spoke of her beauty. She was a real heartbreaker, and I mean that literally,” Col
in chuckled. He opened the envelope and pulled out a few sheets of paper.
“It seems that Ms. Taylor moved around quite a bit with her young daughter, Mya Taylor. Our information indicates that she was in born right here in Little Rock, moved to Virginia, Alabama, and then Mississippi, we assume all after the incident with your father took place. I had my men go to the locations where she’d taken up residency to find out what they could find, and although we couldn’t find any kind of surmountable work record, we were able to find out from state and local records that she lived on welfare everywhere she settled. My man Carl said he spoke to a few people that remember her in each small town that she resided, and the ones he spoke to had nothing kind to say about the woman whatsoever. In fact, according to them she was notorious for breaking up marriages.”
“What about her daughter?” Hunter impatiently asked.
Collin shook his head. “That’s an entirely different story all in itself. The townsfolk that knew them said the poor child walked around raggedy while her mother always walked around dressed to kill. In another town where they lived, the daughter started holding a couple jobs when she was only 15. School officials believed that she was a problem child and that she was skipping school, and it wasn’t until later that they found out she was working. Of course, her mother denied knowing that Mya was not in school, and it was only because her mother didn’t want to bring any attention to herself that she allowed Mya to attend. Even then, at her mother’s insistence, the poor girl was not permitted to quit her jobs.
“Did she graduate?” Hunter asked.
“Oh yes, and carried a 4.0 grade average all through school, which is quite a feat by anyone’s standards. From there, she obtained a perfect SAT score and was selected to be the valedictorian at her high school graduation, but she declined. We suspect that had she accepted the honor her mother would have known she was still attending school, because according to some other information that we’ve come across, she was supposed to quit school when she turned sixteen. It even says here that she also turned down full scholarships to a few colleges.”
Just To Be Loved Page 3
