The Last Chance

by Darrien Lee

  The Last Chance

  Darrien Lee

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Precious Stones

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  The novel is dedicated in memory to the late

  Preston Holt, my dear, devoted cousin.

  Acknowledgments

  First I would like to thank God for his faithfulness and everlasting love. Without his inspiration I wouldn’t be where I am today. I want to thank my church family at Olive Branch Missionary Baptist Church under the leadership of Pastor Vincent Windrow and First Lady Stacy Windrow for your continued prayers and for uplifting my spirit and soul.

  I want to give a shout out to my entire family for keeping me in your prayers. I wish I could name you all individually, but you know who you are.

  To the Women of Color Book club in Clarksville, Tennessee, I appreciate your encouragement and for the beautiful doll you presented to me. To Page by Page and Page Turners Book club members, I love you and thanks for that delicious dinner you treated me to in Baltimore. I can’t wait to hang out with you guys again.

  To Candace Cottrell, you nailed my cover once again. Thank you for designing a book cover image that captured my vision and for your hard work in making my novel a reality. A special thanks goes out to Cory and Heather Buford of Gateway Online Marketing, who keep my website up and running and for your creative assistance. More thanks go out to Alisha Yvonne, for helping me fine-tune this exciting novel.

  To my dear friends and fellow authors, V. Anthony Rivers and J. Daniels, thanks for always being there for me. Your friendship is priceless. To authors, Allison Hobbs, Tina Brooks-McKinney, Shelley Halima, and Harold Turley II, thanks for keeping me motivated even as you travel down your own literary paths. We’re in this thing together so keep up the great work. To author, Laurinda Brown, I have mad love for you, sis.

  A special thanks go out to Mark Anthony, Sabine, and the entire Q-Boro staff for your diligence and hard work. I’m so grateful to be a part of a talented group of writers who support and promote each other with the ut most respect. Mark, I want to send out an additional thanks to you for never being too busy to take my call. You’ve always made yourself available to listen, and I’m so appreciative that you have faith and confidence in me and recognize my literary gift. I want to let you know that I won’t let you down.

  To my special friends, Brenda Thomas, Tracy Dandridge, Sharon Nowlin, Buanita Ray, Robin Ridley, and Monica Baker. Thanks for giving me plenty of colorful material to write about. Remember, I’m always listening. To the literary divas, Angie Burum, LaTonia Davenport, Sherrie Davis, Sharon Sutton, and Renee’ Settles and Venus Boston thanks for putting my novels first and being in my corner. Your love and support means so much to me. To Anita Arlene and the sisters of Delta Sigma Theta Inc. for allowing me to be a part of your Literary Jazz every year.

  A special thanks goes out to my beautician, Ronda Gilbert, and to Melinda at Beauty 4 Me, you guys always make sure I’m looking my best at all times.

  Lastly, to my husband, Wayne, and daughters, Alyvia and Marisa, I love you and lift you up with joy in my heart every second of every day.

  Darrien Lee

  Prologue

  Tonight was a night most people dreamed of but never got to experience. For twenty-seven-year-old Keilah Chance, it was just another day on the job. She was serving as the personal security agent for the daughter of one of Washington’s most affluent families. Arhmelia Randolph, the seventeen-year-old daughter of Supreme Court Justice Malcolm Randolph and his wife Teresa, was attending the Sweet Sixteen party of the daughter of a hip-hop mogul, and her safety was of the utmost concern.

  Keilah arrived with her client, to screaming fans outside D.C.’s Renaissance Hotel, in her silver Jaguar. Once she put the car in park and stepped out, the valet quickly took the keys out of her hands. Keilah walked around the vehicle and opened the door for her young client. When Arhmelia stepped out onto the red carpet, she waved happily to a sea of screaming teens. Dressed in a designer outfit by G-Unit, she looked much older than her seventeen years.

  As they walked the red carpet toward the entrance to the hotel, Keilah kept a sharp eye on the crowd, especially the young men who fought to get a view of her clients as well as the who’s whos in music and movies, who were also arriving.

  Keilah’s main focus was to blend into the crowd, so she dressed accordingly and didn’t look a day over twenty in her outfit. Her hair fell midway down her back in spiral curls, and her makeup was flawless.

  After ushering Arhmelia into the ballroom, Keilah took note of the elaborate decorations and huge, five-tier birthday cake. There was a table full of a variety of food and drinks for the teenagers with the music being provided by a famous DJ out of New York City. The crowd of nearly two hundred people danced to the up-tempo beat being played. Keilah made sure Arhmelia always stayed within a few feet of her, which meant she had to spend half the night on the dance floor. However, Keilah had no problem finding a dance partner.

  The party was going to last until one A.M., so Keilah made it a point to escort her young client out of the crowd several minutes prior to that. Outside, they waited for the valet to bring the car around. As they lingered, Arhmelia struck up a conversation with a young man who exited the hotel around the same time they did. He was also the same young man who’d kept asking Arhmelia to dance at the party.

  As the couple held a conversation, Keilah made it a point to stand between them, and even though it invaded Arhmelia’s privacy, it also kept her safe. Keilah needed to make sure the young man not only kept his distance from Arhmelia but that he didn’t say anything threatening to her either. Arhmelia rolled her eyes and looked over at Keilah.

  “Come on, Keilah. Can you give us a little privacy?”

  Keilah gave Arhmelia a look to let her know it wasn’t happening. She also kept a sharp eye on their surroundings as they stood outside in the open, waiting for their car. Just as the valet drove up with the car, Keilah saw the young man pull out his cell phone and ask for Arhmelia’s telephone number. Arhmelia was about to recite her number to him when Keilah stopped her and then made her get inside the car.

  “I’m sorry, but she’s not allowed to give out her number to strangers. If you give me your number, I will see if she would like to call you later.”

  The young man looked at Keilah as if he was sizing her up, and then he cursed loudly at her. About that time, a group of people exited the hotel and walked in their direction.

  A handsome man dressed in a designer suit and expensive jewelry walked over and said, “Keilah Chance! What a nic
e surprise.”

  Keilah smiled at the gentleman and said, “Hello Quentin.”

  As the gentleman walked closer, he looked at the young man and frowned. “I thought you said you were leaving?”

  Keilah pointed at the young man and asked, “You know this kid, Quentin?”

  He sighed and said, “Yeah, he’s mine. Boy, I know you didn’t disrespect this lady! What did he do?”

  Keilah folded her arms and said, “This can’t be Malik.”

  “Unfortunately, it is, Keilah.”

  “I haven’t seen him in years. I had no idea,” she replied.

  Quentin shook his head and asked, “What did he do?”

  With a raised brow she said, “Ask him.”

  Quentin turned towards the young man and slapped him hard on the back of the head. “I don’t have to ask him, Keilah. I know you, and you wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t do something stupid. Look, I’m so sorry about this. If there’s anything I can do to make this right, I will. You know we go way back, and I don’t want this to hurt our relationship.”

  Malik made an irritated gesture and rolled his eyes. Quentin slapped him again and said, “Boy, you’re in over your head! Don’t you realize who you’re messing with? This is Keilah that used to protect your mother. Now apologize to her like you got some damn sense,” the man said.

  Malik rolled his eyes again before mumbling an apology to Keilah. The flashily dressed gentleman smacked the young man on the back of the head again and yelled at him.

  “I said apologize to her, and do it right!”

  This time Malik apologized to Keilah as instructed before walking off down the sidewalk with his friends. Keilah and Quentin watched as the trio walked down the street. While Quentin’s back was turned Keilah watched as Malik turned and pointed his finger at her as if it were a gun and simulated pulling the trigger. After they were gone, Quentin, known to the hip-hop world as Diamond, smiled at Keilah and extended his hand. Keilah smiled and shook his hand.

  “I’m sorry about all of this, Keilah. I’m still working on the boy. He’s still stuck in the streets.”

  “I really didn’t know he was yours, Quentin. My client was all starry-eyed over him, so I figured he had to be somebody.”

  “Well you wasn’t around Malik that much since he didn’t go on the road with us, so you didn’t see him that often.” Quentin pulled Keilah to the side. “Are we still good?”

  Keilah played with the large gold necklace around Quentin’s neck, and then patted him on the chest. “We’re good. Get Malik under control, Quentin, before he gets himself in a lot of trouble.”

  Quentin turned and walked toward his entourage. He looked back at her seriously. “I’m working on it, Keilah. You have a good night, and I’ll be in touch.”

  Keilah opened her car door and said, “Have a great night, Quentin, and give my regards to your wife.”

  “I will,” he answered.

  Keilah got behind the wheel of her car and hurriedly buckled her seat belt.

  Arhmelia looked over at Keilah and asked, “Do you know who you were talking to? That was Diamond, the singer.”

  Keilah adjusted her rearview mirror and looked over at the young woman.

  “Yes, I know who he is. I’ve known Quentin Rivers for a couple of years. I used to work for him, but I didn’t realize that was his knucklehead son acting a fool.”

  “I can’t believe you used to work for Diamond.”

  “Well, actually I worked for him to protect his wife,” Keilah revealed.

  “Wow, that had to have been exciting, Keilah.”

  She looked over and Arhmelia and said, “It had its moments, but Quentin really needs to get control of his son before the kid gets into a lot of trouble.”

  “Didn’t you see how cute Malik was?”

  “They’re all cute at that age, and dangerous, Arhmelia. And another thing: You don’t give your number out to strangers. I don’t care who they are. If they’re interested in you, they’ll be happy to give you their number just as well. You young women are too careless these days, and you put yourselves at risk when you act like that.”

  Arhmelia buckled her seat belt. “But that was Diamond’s son. He’s so famous.”

  Keilah pulled out into traffic and headed out of the city. “I don’t care about that. What I do care about is getting you home safe and sound, Arhmelia.”

  Arhmelia fumbled with the radio without responding as Keilah kept an eye on traffic.

  “So, did you have a good time?”

  “Yeah, it was cool. I saw you dancing your butt off.”

  Keilah giggled.

  “I had to in order to keep up with you. Thanks to you my feet are killing me.”

  Keilah chuckled as she adjusted her rear view mirror.

  “I have to give it to you, Keilah. You can dance. I like hanging out with you even though you cramped my style tonight.”

  “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

  About that time, a dark-colored SUV pulled up on the passenger side of Keilah’s Jaguar. She looked over and watched as the window lowered and the barrel of a gun pointed directly at them.

  “Get down,” Keilah shouted as she pushed the young woman’s head down in the car. She swerved away from the vehicle.

  Shots rang out. Arhmelia screamed. “Hold on, Arhmelia!” Keilah yelled as she fought to maintain control of her car.

  Keilah could hear the bullets as they hit her car, shattering the back window. She reached inside her jacket pocket, pulled out her gun, and started shooting back at the assailants as they once again pulled up beside her car. Arhmelia continued to cry and scream as Keilah exchanged gunfire with the occupants in the vehicle.

  Meanwhile, in Dennison, California, Luke Chance was in the process of ending his night. He finished up signing some paperwork that his assistant had put on his desk earlier in the day. After working a ten-hour day, he was anxious to get home to his wife and children. Just as he stood to turn off his computer, a sharp pain shot through his head. He grimaced and sat back down in his chair. As he closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, a vision of Keilah flashed in his mind. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of Zomig, a medicine prescribed to him by his doctor for his sudden migraines. For some reason, he seemed to always get severe headaches when something was going on with Keilah. It started when she was thirteen and first got her period. Ever since then, he’d been able to channel all her stress and anxiety, no matter where she was or how hard she tried to hide it.

  Luke was Keilah’s oldest brother. At forty-six years old, Luke had all the answers and was the father figure to his family. Being mild mannered and extremely understanding were his best traits. He was also an attractive man with physical characteristics that could easily qualify him as a male model. He wore his hair closely cropped, had a thin mustache over his upper lip, and had long, sexy eyelashes.

  After popping the tablets into his mouth he drained the bottled water that was sitting on his desk. He looked at his watch and then at their family portrait on the wall. It was one o’clock in the morning in D.C., and even though his head was still throbbing, he had a strong urge to call her. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number. Four rings later, it went to her voice mail.

  “Hey, Keilah, it’s Luke. I know it’s late, but I was sitting here thinking about you. I’m on my way home from the casino, but give me a call. I don’t care what time it is. I love you.”

  After hanging up, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Luke was anxious for his migraine to subside and for Keilah to return his telephone call. He just prayed that whatever she was mixed up in, she was OK.

  Back in D.C., Keilah’s vehicle did a 360 and then faced the SUV as it approached them on I-395. Keilah opened her car door and pulled out a second gun. She unleashed a series of gunshots directly into the front window of the truck, causing it to crash into a lamppost. Keilah could see smoke rising from under the hood of the SUV, but there was no movem
ent inside it. She wasn’t sure if she’d hit anyone and had to be ready in case the occupants rushed her. As she kept her guns aimed on her assailants, she glanced into her car and yelled, “Arhmelia, are you hurt?”

  The young woman screamed and cried without answering. Keilah frantically felt around on Arhmelia’s body and yelled again. “Are you hit?”

  Arhmelia leaned against Keilah and sobbed. “No. I want to go home. I want my momma and daddy.”

  Keilah looked back over at the SUV and in a panic yelled, “Hold on, Arhmelia. I have to call the police, and as soon as they get here, I’m going to take you home. OK?”

  She kept her gun aimed at the SUV as she grabbed Arhmelia by her jacket and pulled her out of the driver’s side door. She made Arhmelia squat down behind the Jaguar for protection in case the occupants of the car started shooting again. Arhmelia whimpered as Keilah spoke to the police over the phone. Within seconds, several cars arrived with lights and sirens blazing.

  Keilah could now relax. Arhmelia, on the other hand, was still visibly shaken. While officers questioned Keilah and checked her identification, she noticed a familiar officer walking in her direction. Other police officers pulled Arhmelia to the side so they could question her. Once they found out who her parents were, they quickly pushed the media back to protect her identity.

  “I see you’re still at it, Keilah,” Officer Jackson said as he laughed.

  “Don’t start with me, Jackson. I’ve had a long night. Did I hit any of them?”

  He pointed to an awaiting car and motioned for her to follow him. “No, you didn’t, which means you must be losing your touch. I do need you to come see if you can identify any of them.”

  Keilah looked into the backseat of the car where three young black men sat in handcuffs. Immediately she recognized one of the men as Diamond’s son. She pointed at him and said, “The one in the middle was talking to my client outside the Renaissance Hotel as we were leaving that party.