Just To Be Loved

by Lee, Vivian Rose

  “I thought, Momma Trent, that we would have caged doves in each corner of the church,” Heather said.

  Sylvie rolled her eyes at Hunter and turned to Heather.

  “It’s your day. You should have anything you want Heather,” she replied as politely as she could.

  “Momma and I are going gown shopping, and I would like you to join us. I have chosen the gown that you and Mrs. Trent senior will wear for the weddings. Of course my Mom’s taste is exceptional so she needs no help.”

  Sylvie grumbled inwardly. There was no way in hell Heather was picking out a dress for her to wear to this fiasco.

  “That will not be necessary. I am quite capable of choosing my own dress Heather.”

  “Momma Trent, our tastes are so different, plus I want everything perfect, with all the influential and affluent guests that will be attending. My father even invited the President and First Lady! Won’t that be special for you? I’ve met them many times,” she said pompously.

  Sylvie looked at her husband and narrowed her eyes. Henry had the insight to lower his.

  “Heather enough wedding talk,” Hunter said with a groan.

  She glared at him. “And you’re not doing enough Hunter, I told you we have to get the groomsmen’s tuxedos ordered, you have…”

  “Enough Heather!” He roared.

  Heather snapped her lips shut with a pout. He had better enjoy himself for now, because after they were married, he will not be raising his voice at her like that again. She glanced over at Sylvie. She ought to glad that she offered to pick out a dress for her and that eccentric grandmother of Hunter’s. What does Hunter call her, Gandhi? No, it’s Ghani. She certainly won’t be calling her that. Mya was as funny looking as the grandmother is. Mya… hmm… well no need to think about her now that she’s out of the picture. Hunter doesn’t realize how much she cares about him and the lengths she would go to have him. He wanted Mya gone and poof, she’s gone. She smiled secretly. To think he tried to break things off with her permanently after her arrest because the family was upset. Thank God, Clay crossed his T’s and dotted his I’s on this one, or she would be in scalding hot water.

  When Hunter explained to her why he was making the break, she confessed how deeply she loved him, and how he was breaking her heart, and by the time she was finished with her sad song, guilt kept him by her side. Hell, after all she has done for him, she wasn’t about to lose him now. It’s almost been three months now, and it took her one of the three just to get Hunter to propose, and now nothing, absolutely nothing was going to ruin her special day. There was no remorse for what she did, especially since she could tell that Hunter was just a little too preoccupied with Mya from the very beginning. Thankfully, she has not heard from Clay since the setup and that was for the best. Right now, the two of them needed to have as little contact as possible, although personally she prayed that Mya would rot in prison. If anyone found out that she had a hand in Mya’s disgrace, she could lose everything. Moreover, her parents would not be too happy. It had been a few months. She was sure Mya was rotting away in prison as she should be, and Clay had moved on to bigger things, and now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen anything in the papers about Mya’s arrest. That’s probably because Henry Trent knew people and probably stopped the story’s publication, but it didn’t matter. She would take care of that little oversight shortly. It was time to deliver the finishing blow to Mya Trent.

  Sylvie openly watched Heather’s devious eyes. She did not like that woman, and just look at her sitting over there looking smug as if she has some dirty little secret. What was Hunter thinking? Pick her dress? Please!

  “Excuse me,” Sylvie said as politely as she could. “I’m going to say goodnight, please stay for dessert Heather.”

  “Momma Trent, we have not discussed what dress I want you to wear,” she asserted.

  Sylvie rose and tossed her napkin on the table. She had had enough.

  “Heather, we will not be discussing the dress you want me to wear, because I chose my own clothing, thank you!”

  “Well then please just promise me that you won’t purchase those loud, god-awful colors you seem to be so fond of. I want soft, muted colors,” she stated haughtily.

  Sylvie yelled. “That’s it! You sit at my table and insult my taste and think I’m going to take it, get it straight little girl, I don’t need nor desire your help!” She looked over at Hunter with hard eyes just before she turned and stormed from the room. “I love you son, but I sure hope you know what you’re getting into!”

  Heather feigned surprised. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing,” she replied sweetly, but Hunter didn’t miss the wickedness in her eyes. He rose to his feet in disgust.

  “Come on Heather; it’s time to go home.”

  The minute Heather arrived home she made a call to a friend of hers that work for the Daily Record. She informed him that she had a big story for him to run, and gave him the scoop on Mya Trent, insisting that he not divulge his source.

  Sylvie was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for Henry when the phone rang. “Good morning,” she greeted.

  “Mrs. Trent this is reporter from the Daily Record. I am sorry to hear about the attempt on your husband’s life, but would you care to comment?”

  “What are you talking about?” She yelled before hanging up the phone. “Henry!”

  Henry raced down the stairs. “Who are all these people in my driveway?” He shouted.

  He snatched open the front door and lights, TV cameras, and microphones were pushed in his face. He slammed the door shut. The phone was ringing off the hook and his wife was screaming to the top of her lungs. He pulled out his cell and called Hunter.

  “Get your ass over here; someone has leaked the story about Mya!” He shouted. He then called Marvin Taylor.

  Sylvie was in their bedroom sobbing when he entered.

  “Henry we have to help her. I don’t believe any of this,” she cried.

  “I’m not helping someone who tried to kill me Sylvie! You’re asking too much of me!” He shouted.

  Sylvie shook her head. “I knew you were a ruthless businessman, but I never knew you were totally heartless too. If you don’t help her, Mama and I will,” she threatened.

  “Sylvie don’t test me, I forbid it. Where is your loyalty? I can’t believe you are going to let that woman come between us just like her mother tried to do. Don’t you see that she wants to ruin this family? She just didn’t expect to be caught!”

  “I don’t believe this,” Sylvie lamented. “Mya didn’t do this, you know she didn’t, and until you do something other than turn your back on her, I’m going to Mama’s.”

  Sylvie turned to leave and stopped at the door. “I thought the law was that you are innocent until proven guilty, but you already have her executed. Goodbye Henry.”

  A stunned Henry stared at the door his wife exited.

  Chapter 9

  Rodger was in deep thought on his way to meet David Harris. Something just didn’t seem right about Mya Trent’s case, and even a blind man could see that the evidence didn’t fit the crime. For one, the photos of Mya standing there with David Harris appear to be nothing more than two students talking, and as far as that tape recording of Mya supposedly asking about a hit man goes, the majority of the tape was distorted and inaudible, and therein lies the problem. Clearly, it sounded like her voice when she answered yes or no, but the actual request of her allegedly wanting Henry Trent dead, was sketchy at best.

  Rodger parked his car in the campus parking lot and glanced at his watch. Mya told him that she and David were in the same nine-thirty class, and the class would let out in five minutes. With a photo of David Harris right in front of him, he should have no problem spotting him. Leaving his car, he stood outside the Hall waiting for David to come out, when he saw him.

  “David. David Harris,” he called.

  The young man stopped walking and faced him. “Yes Sir?” He answered.

&n
bsp; “Is there somewhere we can talk David?” Rodger asked.

  David looked at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, but do I know you?”

  “No, we’ve never met. I’m Rodger Collins, public defender for Mya Trent,” he said, introducing himself.

  “Mya Trent? What happened to Mya that she needs a public defender?”

  “If you would just give a few minutes…”

  David shrugged indifferently. “Okay, I guess we can talk in the classroom.”

  Rodger sized up the young man as they walked into the room. David couldn’t be any more than nineteen or twenty years of age, of average height and build, and with the round, thick-lensed glasses he had on, he reminded Rodger of a dark-skinned Waldo. Although he had his doubts, he’d wait until he questioned David before he formed any opinion. After David took a seat at one of the desks, Rodger explained to him the circumstances concerning Mya’s arrest, but took great care not to give too much away. David’s face went flush.

  “I-I don’t anything about this,” he stated, sounding extremely nervous.

  Rodger pulled out the photos of the two of them talking and handed them to him. David took the pictures with shaky hands and looked at them. He remembered his Uncle Clay asking him to talk to Mya and record her voice while he took pictures of the two of them. His uncle said that he needed the pictures for evidence concerning a drug sting he was helping with. David wasn’t sure if he should mention that part without speaking to his uncle first, so he kept it to himself.

  “Uh, yeah I talked to her that day,” David replied, trying not to appear so nervous.

  “Okay David, may I ask about what?”

  David shrugged. “Classes mostly.”

  Rodger nodded and then watched for his reaction while he got right to the point. “David, did Mya ask you to find her a hit man?”

  The question floored David. “W-what? What’s going on?”

  “I said, David, did Mya ask you to find her a hit man?” Rodger pressed.

  David came to his feet quickly. He had to go and see his uncle right away.

  “I don’t know anything!” He said. He grabbed his book bag and hurried out of the room.

  Based on that brief encounter he just had with David, Rodger knew that he was going to make Mya Trent his main case. He sensed something was wrong the minute he first saw and heard the evidence stacked up against her, but more than that, he actually felt sorry for her. After she was denied bail at the hearing, he requested more time to work her case, and he could tell just by her demeanor that she gave up trying to defend herself, but she was innocent; he could feel it in his gut. Another shocker was that Mya was pregnant, and Rodger used this fact to his advantage. He told her that if the baby was born while she was incarcerated, it would be taken away from her and placed in foster care. That is of course unless she named the father. If she did that then he would have full custody and chances are she would never see the child again. That was all the incentive he needed to convince her to fight for her freedom.

  Mya didn’t know much because she didn’t realize that she was set up to take a fall, and Rodger surmised that someone in her father’s family wanted her to disappear. After she told him about her relationship with the family, the first person that came to his mind was Hunter Mason, and he knew that he had to work quickly. He promised Mya that she would not have her baby in prison, even though the hands of justice moved very slowly at times, and the fact was that he needed to find the evidence to prove her innocence. In the few months of representing her, he had become very fond of her, and during his visits, they talked about the case. That however, was about the gist of their conversations because whenever he tried to get personal, she would close up tight. She refused to talk about her past or the father of the child she carried, and out of respect for her privacy, he didn’t press the issue. One good thing that came out of her being pregnant in prison was that she didn’t have to fight anymore, and he was happy to see her without a black eye or bruises on her face. The guards told him that she may be tiny, but she was no punk. The women seemed to respect her pregnancy, and at six months on, she was large. The prenatal care she received was basic, but she was healthy, and once she was released, Rodger would see to it personally that she received proper pre-natal care. He was able to secure a grand jury hearing to see if the state had a case, and if they ruled in his favor, there would be a trial in three weeks. He also realized that nothing was in the paper, and that meant that the wealthy Henry Trent had put the hush on everything.

  The next day Rodger stood at the receptionist’s desk.

  “May I help you?” She asked.

  “Yes, I would like to see Mr. Mason, please.”

  “Okay and you are?”

  “Rodger Collins. I have urgent business with Mr. Mason.”

  She immediately buzzed Hunter’s office. “A Mr. Rodger Collins on urgent business,” she said into the receiver.

  “What matter of business?” She asked.

  “A matter I’m sure Mr. Mason does not want broadcasted. He’ll know what I mean,” Rodger replied smugly.

  She returned to the phone, said yes Sir, and hung up. “Mr. Collins you may go up to the twelfth floor.”

  Hunter stood there waiting for his assistant to lead Mr. Collins to his office. He wasn’t sure what this Mr. Collins wanted, but he knew by his brash comment that it had something to do with Mya. He shook his head. Ever since that woman came into their lives, there’s been nothing but constant drama. His mother still believed in Mya’s innocence. She and Dad had an argument that was destroying their marriage, and she hasn’t spoken to him for the past four months. They even stopped sharing a bed. Ghani was furious with Dad for not providing a decent lawyer and Dad forbid anybody in the family to help the woman who tried to have him killed. None of this was good for Dad. With all this drama, he seemed to age right before Hunter’s eyes, but he was no better. In the four months that Mya has been incarcerated, he thought of her daily. He was angry with her for what she attempted, but even more angry with himself for still wanting her.

  “Mr. Mason, Mr. Collins is here to see you.”

  “Send him in.”

  Rodger was impressed with the large elegant office, and vowed that one day when he had his own practice, his office would be just like this one. After admiring the room, Rodger met Hunter Mason’s scowling face. The man was large and had a powerful aura about him, and like any good lawyer, he did his research on the Half Cherokee and African American. Parents killed in a car accident when he was a baby, was adopted, and nurtured by Henry and Sylvie Trent, and heir to his wealthy Cherokee grandparent’s fortune. He was heavily active in the community, and responsible for the many charitable services provided for needy families, and yet for all his good deeds, he was ruthless in business.

  “Mr. Collins, please have a seat,” Hunter offered while he half sat on the front of his desk with his arm folded across his chest.

  One thing Rodger was not going to do was sit while he stood. Instead, he stepped further into the office.

  “This won’t take long, Mr. Mason,” he stated.

  “Then get on with it!” Hunter snapped.

  Rodger nodded. “As you must have figured out by now Mr. Mason, I represent Mya Trent. Her grand jury hearing is in a couple of days and I need to ask you a few questions for her defense.”

  Hunter looked at the man as if his head had fallen off.

  “Why in the hell would I help you in her defense when she’s guilty of putting a contract out on my father’s life?” He roared coming to his full height.

  Undaunted, Rodger continued. “Whether she attempted what you just stated is for the grand jury to decide Mr. Mason. I didn’t come here expecting your help. As a matter of fact, I have all the evidence I need to have these charges dropped. Mya is innocent Mr. Mason, and I have a gut feeling that someone who wants her out of your family has gone through some extreme measures to set her up. It’s all in the evidence. After Mya is freed and these bogus charg
es are dropped, my goal is to find the person or persons who deliberately ruined this young woman’s life and have them brought up on charges.”

  “What evidence?” Hunter asked.

  Rodger smirked. “Why should you care, or is there something you need to tell me?

  “Tell you?” Hunter repeated. Was this asshole implying…

  Rodger shrugged. “Like the old saying goes; the wealthy always take care of their own.”

  “What the hell are you implying Mr. Collins?”

  “Nothing at all,” Rodger answered. “It’s just that I see a sweet innocent woman living in hell and her so called wealthy family has turned their back on her without even giving her the benefit of the doubt. Oh, but I forgot. She is nothing but the poor illegitimate child of the mother that shot your father many years ago, so I guess like mother like daughter, huh? Good day Mr. Mason, I truly hope everything works out for your family, but you know what they say, what comes around goes around.” Rodger turned and left the office.

  Hunter stood there dumbfounded. It never once crossed their minds that Mya could be innocent. Only his mother believed that, but his father forbad anyone in the family to help her. Did he really have evidence of Mya’s innocence?

  Rodger got the big break he was looking for when a friend of his working in the city crime lab gave him concrete proof of Mya’s innocence, and right after obtaining it, he immediately went to the District Attorney’s office and waited for him to arrive. It was common knowledge that the DA had no respect for the Public Defenders, but when Rodger showed him the evidence he had that completely exonerated Mya Trent, he would be forced to show more respect. If he didn’t, Rodger could demand a trial, take the bastard to court to show that the state never had a case, and embarrass the asshole showing just how utterly incompetent he and his staff really are.