Read Growing Pains Online

Authors: Dwayne S. Joseph

Growing Pains (15 page)

BOOK: Growing Pains
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22
“So, Mr. White, I have to ask: were you born with your powers, or did you acquire them as you grew older?” Deahnna chuckled at her own question.
Jawan caressed her shoulder with his index finger. “My powers?”
Deahnna burrowed her head into his chest more and played with the hair just below his belly button, but above his crotch. “Yes, powers,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
She smiled. “You're a sorcerer,” she said.
That was the only way she could explain how she was in his arms, in his bed, instead of being at the place she despised. A place that she desperately needed to get away from, but couldn't find a way to replace just yet.
Marvin had been pissed that she'd called out on another Friday. She wasn't the best dancer he had, but she was good and did have a following. Marvin was losing out on some good money, and for that matter, so was she. But as much as she needed the money, she loved Jawan's company more, and so, money be damned, she hadn't hesitated to say yes when Jawan asked her out for another Friday night movie.
“A sorcerer, huh?”
“Yes.
Merlin
. I'm supposed to be at work right now, making sure I continue to have a roof over my head, and instead I'm here with you doing things I should be ashamed of.”
Jawan trailed his finger down her arm and then over the nipple of her breast. “Should be?”
“Yes.”
“But you're not.”
“Only because of the spell you put me under.”
Jawan laughed. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm no Merlin. As a matter of fact, if anyone here is guilty of magic spells, it's you.”
“Me?”
“Yes,
Desdemona
. Definitely you.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Because since the night of the dance, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.”
Deahnna raised her head, and looked up at him as he looked down at her.
Those eyes
, she thought.
I could never get tired of gazing at them
. “You're smooth, Mr. White. Very smooth.”
Jawan flashed a sexy grin. “If anyone here is smooth, sexy lady, it's you. Now, 'fess up. How did you slip your magic potion into my water at that dance?”
Deahnna laughed and batted her eyelashes. “A sorceress never reveals her secret.”
“See?” Jawan said, tapping her playfully on her rear end. “I knew you were a master in the art of witchcraft.”
Deahnna laughed and kissed his chest. “You're insane.”
“I have to agree,” Jawan replied with a nod. “I have been certifiable ever since you came into my world.”
Deahnna's smile widened as she felt her heart flutter. It had only been a matter of a few weeks—a month—and yet she felt as though she didn't know life before Jawan.
Like the stealthiest thief in the night, he'd come in and stolen her most prized possession—her heart. And there was nothing she could do to stop him.
“Thank you for calling out tonight,” Jawan said. “Your coworkers haven't been too mad, have they? I imagine not having that extra person puts them behind a little.”
Deahnna was thankful that he could only see the top of her head, so that he wouldn't see her frown. During a previous phone conversation, she'd had to do what Regina suggested she do. She'd had to lie. He wanted to know what she did for her part-time job. She'd told him that she cleaned office buildings in the city with two other people. She didn't like lying to him, but things were going too perfectly to do anything but. It wasn't something she was proud of, but it was necessary, because she knew men like Jawan only came around once in a lifetime. She hated doing it, but she lied, and swore to herself that she would find a way to leave Marvin and the club behind.
“No,” she said, the pitch in her voice lowering a little. “They're actually OK. They're just happy to see that I finally have a life.”
Jawan laughed. “Yeah, my cousin feels the same way.”
“Here's to baggage,” Deahnna said, kissing his chest again.
Jawan kissed her on the top of her head. “Yes. Absolutely. Oh, I've been meaning to ask: have you told Brian about us yet?”
Deahnna sighed. Things had been strained between her and her son ever since she'd nearly slapped the taste out of his mouth when he'd asked if she was sleeping with Jawan. He'd apologized sincerely since then, but things just hadn't been the same.
There was a distance between them that never existed before, and Deahnna wasn't sure if the distance was related to her relationship with his teacher, or if there were other things on his mind. She'd tried on a couple of different occasions to talk to him, but he just closed himself off, and wouldn't say anything more than he was cool. “Yes, he knows,” she said.
“I figured as much, by the I'm-gonna-beat-your-ass stares he's been giving me the past few weeks.”
“I'm sorry. I'll talk to him.”
“No need to apologize and no need to say anything. I can handle the stares.”
“Still, I'm sorry.”
“Brian is very protective of you and he doesn't want to see you get hurt.”
Deahnna smiled. “I know.”
“If I were in his shoes, I'd probably do more than stare.”
Deahnna laughed. “Is that right?”
“Oh absolutely. I would have probably been expelled by now.”
Deahnna laughed.
“No kidding,” Jawan insisted.
Deahnna laughed hard for a few more seconds and then said, “Let me ask you: other than the stares, how has he been in class?”
“Other than the mean-mugging, he's been OK. A little disconnected, I guess. He's been doing the work like he always does, but he hasn't been participating the same. Of course, with him knowing about us, I can see why.”
“I don't know,” she said. “Sometimes I just feel like he's going through something. I can't get him to open up to me anymore. This is where having a man in the house comes in handy. I think he'd open up to a man more than he would me.”
Jawan kissed her head again. “I can try to talk to him if you want. See if there is anything besides his being overprotective of you.”
Deahnna raised her head and smiled. “You're a pretty special man, you know that.”
“I'm just doing what you've put me under a spell to do.”
Deahnna looked at him. At his eyes. Jawan stared back, his gaze unblinking. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Jawan nodded. “Anything for you,” he said.
Deahnna brought her lips to his.
Anything for me,
she thought, kissing and mounting him.
Anything for me.
God, it felt so good to hear that.
23
He was going to be a father.
Brian rubbed Carla's flat belly. His seed was inside, growing slowly. A boy or a girl. His son or daughter. A father.
Brian passed his hand from side to side. In a few weeks, her stomach would no longer be flat, and in a few months, he would feel movement beneath his palm. See it, too. And that scared the hell out of him, because the reality that he had no choice but to accept it would be tangible.
A father.
He had no idea about the concept of being one, but his ideas were based on things he'd seen on TV and in movies. He grew up fatherless, his boys and the majority of the kids he knew along his block had too, so he'd never had a model to go by. He never had anyone discuss with him the rules of fatherhood. Never had anyone explain what to do when . . .
He wasn't ready.
But, of course, that didn't matter now.
The trigger had been pulled. The race was on. And in about eight months, he would cross the finish line. But during the race, he would have to step out of his lane for a moment to do something he didn't want to do, but had to.
Old Man Blackwell.
In a few days, he, Tyrel, and Will—the three-man cartel—were going to rip him off. It was a day Brian was dreading. Old Man Blackwell had never had his doors disrespected. Not because he had trip wires, motion sensors, armored guards, or walked around with a loaded .22 on his hip, a shotgun at his side, a samurai sword strapped to his back, and a can of mace in his pocket. Truth be told, for all the money that he dealt with on a daily basis, Old Man Blackwell could barely spell the word “security,” because it had just never been something he'd ever had to worry about.
Everyone knew and loved the old man, and he knew and loved everyone. He was grandfather and uncle to some. Counselor and teacher to others. If you had a problem, Old Man Blackwell had an ear to lend and advice to give. Sometimes he even had money out of his pocket to offer. For those reasons, the old man could literally walk out of his store, leaving his cash drawer open, and no one would even think to go into it.
Rich, who worked there seven days out of the week, was called the security guard, but really he was just a guy to whom the Old Man was giving a final chance at life. The only “policing” Rich really did was to make sure that he came to work when he was supposed to, and that he came drug free.
Brian had a lot of love for Blackwell, and it was breaking his heart that he was going to do what no one had ever dared. But he couldn't diss his boys, his brothers. As badly as he wanted to, he just couldn't. And worse still, with his seed growing, he was going to need the money they stood to take. Life was just so fucking unfair.
“What are you thinking about?”
Brian opened his eyes and looked into Carla's almondshaped brown eyes. They were lying in her bed, their foreheads inches apart. It was three in the morning. Brian had snuck over and snuck into her room after her mother had fallen asleep. He'd been doing that a lot more since Carla had dropped the bomb on him. He looked at her and forced a smile. “Just thinking about you,” he whispered.
“Just me?”
“And the baby, of course.”
Carla nodded. “I'm thinking about that too. Haven't really been able to think about anything else.”
“Yeah. I feel you.”
“We need to tell our mothers.”
Brian frowned. His mother was going to be damn disappointed in him. He said, “Yeah. I know.”
“When?”
He shrugged. “I don't know yet.”
Carla took a breath and exhaled. “I've been thinking about how to do it, but I . . . I just don't know how.”
Brian lifted a shoulder again. “There's really only one way to,” he said. “Straight and to the point. It is what it is. We're having a baby.”
Carla gave a half smile. “I guess.”
Silence passed between them for a minute or two, before Carla took another breath and said, “Brian, can I ask you something?”
His eyes closed, Brian said, “Yeah?”
“Are you excited?”
“Huh?”
“About the baby.”
Brian tightened his jaw. Was he excited about the baby? He looked at Carla as she stared at him, waiting for his reply. A few weeks ago, he'd seen nothing but fear and regret in her eyes, but looking at her now, he saw something else. Something that hadn't been there before.
Was he excited about the baby the way her eyes revealed that she was?
He wanted to say “Hell no,” he wasn't excited. He wanted to insist—no, demand—that she get an abortion. But he'd hurt her once when he ran out and ignored her calls, and as much as he wanted to, telling her the truth was just something he couldn't do. She was in the same cold, black seawater as he was, but whereas he had nothing, he was the buoy she clung to.
He breathed out slowly. He would lie to save her, while the waters took him down another inch because it was what he had to do. He said, “Yeah. I am.”
Carla smiled. “I am too,” she said. She put her hand over his on her stomach. “The more I think about it, the more excited I get.”
Brian did all he could to not frown. “Yeah.”
“I've been thinking about names.”
“You have?”
“Yeah. I like Israel for a boy and Indigo for a girl.”
Brian nodded and raised his eyebrows. She'd spent some time on them. “Nice. Those are nice.”
“Do you have any other names in mind?”
He shook his head. “No. But I like those. They should be the names.”
Carla smiled. “I still can't believe I'm pregnant,” she said.
Brian ran his tongue over the front of his top teeth. He couldn't believe it either. But he didn't say that. Instead, he said, “I need to get home before my mom gets up.”
Carla frowned. “Oh, OK.”
Brian rose from the bed and slid on his sweat pants and sweatshirt, and then put his Timberland boots on. When he was done, he looked down at Carla. She was looking up at him with sad eyes. Eyes that were begging him to stay just a little while longer.
“I'll hit you up tomorrow,” he said, bending down and giving her a quick kiss on her lips.
“OK,” Carla said, her voice softer than before.
Brian turned, headed to the door, opened it slowly, and took a cautious glance toward her mother's bedroom door. It was still closed, and, from behind it, he could hear her mother's snoring. Without saying another word to her, Brian hurried on tiptoes past her mother's door, and left the apartment as quietly as he'd come in.
On his way out he'd heard Carla crying softly from her room. Her tears had made his steps lighter and quicker.
BOOK: Growing Pains
12.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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