Keeping Secrets & Telling Lies

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Keeping Secrets & Telling Lies Page 33

by Trice Hickman


  “Together ... that’s the only way we can move forward.”

  “When I was lying on that stretcher, the only thing I thought about was you and Alexandria, and how I wanted to live because I didn’t want to leave you.” A small tear escaped the corner of his eye. He wiped his hand across his face, talking in a steady tone as another tear rolled down his cheek. “I don’t want to lose my family.”

  “You haven’t lost us. I’m here, where I’m supposed to be.” Victoria reached for Ted’s hand and held it. “I’m gonna work hard to fix this ... this mess that I’ve made. We can get through this. If we can forgive, we can heal.”

  Ted nodded.

  “Do you think you can forgive me?” she asked again.

  “I love you,V ... but it’s going to take time.”

  “That’s all I can ask for.”

  Victoria slipped off her sandals and curled up in bed beside him, gently resting her head on his shoulder. Ted planted a soft kiss on her forehead as she draped one arm around him. It didn’t feel like old times to either of them, and they knew that it might never feel that way again. But what they were sharing now was real, and it was pure, and it was love, and they were ready to ride it out to wherever it was going to take them.

  Don’t miss Naomi Chase’s Deception

  On sale in March 2012 from Dafina Books

  Turn the page for an excerpt from Deception ...

  Chapter 1

  Tamia

  Tamia Luke’s heart pounded violently as she watched the twelve jurors file into the jury box and reclaim their seats. She was so nervous she wanted to throw up. These men and women held her fate in their hands. Their verdict would determine whether she spent the rest of her life in prison, or walked out of this courtroom a free woman.

  She searched their faces, hoping for something—anything—that would give her insight into the decision they had reached. But their expressions were unreadable, and none of them would make eye contact with her. Not even Juror Number Eight, an attractive, middle-aged black man who’d hardly been able to keep his eyes off of her throughout the trial.

  But today he seemed to go out of his way not to look at her.

  Like the other jurors.

  With mounting anxiety, Tamia leaned over and whispered to her attorney, “They won’t look at me.Why won’t they look at me?”

  “Relax,” Brandon murmured soothingly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Tamia hoped to God he was right. She’d spent the past five months behind bars, serving time for a crime she hadn’t committed. She didn’t know what she would do if the jury found her guilty of Isabel Archer’s murder. It was unthinkable.

  When the judge emerged from his chambers, Tamia and Brandon rose from the defense table. Her insides were shivering, and her legs were so wobbly she thought she’d collapse to the floor. Without thinking she grabbed Brandon’s hand and held it tight, comforted when he squeezed her back.

  As the judge silently read the folded note that contained the jury’s verdict, an expectant hush swept over the packed courtroom.You could literally hear a pin drop.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” said the judge, “have you reached a verdict?”

  The jury forewoman stood. “We have,Your Honor.”

  “What is your verdict?”

  Tamia closed her eyes, her heart slamming against her ribcage as she braced herself for the woman’s next words.

  “We, the jury, find the defendant—”

  Tamia held her breath.

  “—not guilty.”

  Pandemonium erupted in the courtroom, loud cheers from Tamia’s supporters dueling with shouts of protest from Isabel Archer’s outraged relatives. The judge banged his gavel, calling for order. But it was the sight of Brandon’s beaming face that gave Tamia permission to believe the verdict she’d just heard.

  “WE WON!” she screamed, throwing her arms around Brandon’s neck as he laughingly lifted her off the floor. As he spun her around, she caught a glimpse of Dominic Archer, seated behind the plaintiff’s table across the aisle. He looked so stunned that Tamia might have felt sorry for him—if she didn’t despise his motherfucking ass.

  “Thank you, Brandon,” she said earnestly as he set her back down on her feet. “Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for saving my life!”

  “You’re welcome,” he told her. “I never doubted your innocence.”

  “I know. And that meant everything to me.”

  His expression softened. “You know I—”

  “Congratulations,” a new voice interrupted.

  Tamia and Brandon turned to encounter a pretty, brown-skinned woman dressed in a navy Dolce & Gabbana skirt suit that hugged her slender figure. Her dark, lustrous hair seemed longer, flowing past her shoulders in a way that made Tamia more desperate than ever to get into her stylist’s chair. Sporting months of nappy new growth and wearing a pantsuit that did nothing for her shape, she felt raggedy next to Cynthia Yarbrough—the scheming hussy who’d stolen Brandon from her.

  She forced a smile. “Hey, Cynthia.You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you, Tamia.” Cynthia didn’t insult her intelligence by returning the compliment. “Congratulations on your acquittal.”

  “Thanks.” Tamia smiled gratefully at Brandon. “I couldn’t have done it without this man’s amazing legal prowess. I don’t know if I can ever repay him, but I’m determined to try.”

  Brandon chuckled. “You might feel differently after you receive my final bill.”

  Tamia laughed, then leaned up and kissed his smooth, clean-shaven cheek. She didn’t miss the way Cynthia’s eyes narrowed with displeasure.

  Don’t get it twisted, heffa, Tamia mused. He was my man first!

  Soon she was surrounded by a group of supporters who’d been there for her throughout the trial. Lou Saldaña scooped her up and swung her around, while her best friend, Shanell Jasper, took one look at her attire and promised to take her shopping ASAP. Distant cousins Tamia hadn’t seen in ages had shown up, along with a few of her neighbors.

  Everyone who mattered was there.

  Except Fiona.

  And she didn’t matter anymore,Tamia thought darkly.

  “YOU BITCH!”

  The enraged outburst came from the other side of the courtroom, where a sobbing woman was being restrained by several members of Isabel Archer’s family. As Tamia watched, the woman pointed at her and screamed, “You’re not gonna get away with this, bitch! You’re gonna pay for what you did to Isabel!”

  Before Tamia could open her mouth to defend herself, Brandon silenced her with a warning look. “Don’t say anything. The jury has spoken for you, and that’s all that matters.”

  Nodding grimly, she watched as the hysterical woman was led out of the courtroom. Although Tamia knew she was innocent, it bothered her that there were people who would always believe the worst of her, that she’d killed her lover’s wife in a fit of jealous rage. The worst part was that she knew who the real killer was—and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She’d sworn not to tell anyone, and no matter how horribly she’d been used and betrayed, a promise was a promise.

  After accepting more congratulatory hugs and kisses, Tamia followed her small entourage out of the courthouse and into the bright November afternoon. She and Brandon were met by a buzzing swarm of reporters who shouted questions at them.

  “Miss Luke, do you feel vindicated by today’s verdict?”

  “Mr. Chambers, do you stand by your strategy to portray Dominic Archer as the real killer?”

  “Do either of you believe he really murdered his wife?”

  “Miss Luke, do you regret having an affair with a married man?”

  Taken aback by the barrage of questions, Tamia looked askance at Brandon. He gave her a reassuring smile, then stepped to the cluster of microphones. Calmly he surveyed the crowd, waiting for the noise to die down before he spoke.

  “Miss Luke and I are pleased that justice was serv
ed today. I commend the men and women of the jury for weighing all the evidence and coming back with the only verdict they could have: not guilty.”

  The reporters fired more questions at him.

  “With all due respect, Brandon,” one voice rang out above the rest, “how difficult was it for you to defend the woman who cheated on you? Throughout the trial, you were forced to hear the lurid details of Miss Luke’s affair with Dominic Archer. How in the world did you remain objective?”

  Tamia’s face heated with shame, while Brandon didn’t so much as flinch. “My prior relationship with Miss Luke wasn’t on trial,” he answered evenly. “If I didn’t think I could handle hearing the ‘lurid details’ of her affair, as you put it, I wouldn’t have taken her case. But I did, because I believed in her innocence. Clearly the jury did, too.”

  Tamia beamed at him.

  “Is there any chance that you and Miss Luke might reconcile?”

  Brandon paused, giving Tamia a sidelong glance.

  She met his gaze, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

  After several moments he turned back to the reporters, chuckling and shaking his head. “You guys are always looking for a romantic Hollywood ending. All I want to do is celebrate this victory, which reaffirms my belief that the justice system can and does work.”

  “Given your winning track record,” someone retorted, “I’d say the system works just fine for you.”

  Brandon grinned as laughter swept over the crowd.

  Tamia was also grinning, but not for the same reason as everyone else. For the first time in several months, she had reason to hope that all was not lost between her and Brandon. Because whether he realized it or not, by dodging the reporter’s question, he’d left the door open for the possibility of him and Tamia getting back together.

  Today’s verdict had given her back her life. Now that she was a free woman again, nothing would stop her from trying to reclaim the only man she’d ever loved.

  Nothing.

  And no one.

  Turning her head, she saw Cynthia standing off to the side by herself.

  Their gazes met.

  Tamia smiled.

  Cynthia’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  That’s right, bitch, Tamia thought. I’m taking back what you stole from me. And this time, I’m never letting him go!

  DAFINA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2009 by Trice Hickman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-0-7582-7808-1

 

 

 


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