Nude Awakening (15 page)

TWENTY-TWO

At the same time, Yaffa was sitting in Swagga’s kitchen secretly talking to Chyna.

“Yo, ma. When I’ma get up wit’cha again?”

Before Chyna could reply, Swagga appeared with a bottle of Courvoisier Rose in his hand. Yaffa told Chyna to hold on, then asked Swagga what was up.

“Yo, I wanna go see one of my dumb ass baby mommas.” Swagga appeared drunk.

“What time?”

Swagga shrugged. “Don’t matter.”

Yaffa looked at Swagga dressed in the same clothes he had on yesterday. “How about you ease back off the liquor and Kush and take a shower to freshen up?”

Swagga turned the bottle up and swallowed hard. “A’ight.” He burped. “I’ma . . . go . . . take a shower.”

Yaffa eased his cell phone back up to his ear as Swagga shuffled out the kitchen. He was pushing hard for a second hook-up, but Chyna was casually stringing him along.

“Yo, when I’ma see you again?” he asked, squeezing his dick.

“Soon, baby. I’m just tied up with some personal things right now.”

Yaffa’s ego would not let him sweat Chyna. The behind the back affair was not a big deal to him, but Chyna suggested they float things on the down low.

“Yo, let me call you back later, a’ight.” Yaffa stood up.

“I’ll be waiting, Sugah Bear.” Chyna kissed him through the phone.

Yaffa laughed as he ended the call. Back to business. Heading up to his room, he went inside, opened his weapon safe and pulled out two twin Glocks. Nearly forty minutes later, he met Swagga outside. They stood under the blazing sun in front of the four-car garage.

“I pick . . . door numbah . . . two.” Swagga pointed. He was drunk and high. The garage door slid up, revealing the chrome mesh grill of his champagne colored Bentley Brooklands. The on duty chauffeur drove the Bentley out of the garage then promptly got out to open the rear door for Swagga.

“I’m rich, bitch!” Swagga fell into the six-figure sedan.

Yaffa got in the front passenger seat and told the chauffeur where to go.

LaToria was fucked up emotionally. In her bed, she soaked the pillow with her tears as the MP3 system filled her bedroom with “Love” by Musiq Soulchild. The soft ballad was on repeat for the third time.

Love . . . so many people use your name in vain . . . Love, but those who have faith in you, sometimes go astray . . . Love . . .

LaToria had no idea how to deal with her emotions. Her pessimistic mind-set reared its head. It ain’t love; it’s only lust! Trevon is just hooked on me ‘cause I’m his first piece of ass. That’s all it is! She pounded the bed with her fist. So deep in her sorrow, she had not heard nor noticed she had a visitor.

“Girl!” Jurnee turned the music off.

LaToria rolled to her side looking at Jurnee through her blurred vision.

“What is wrong with you?” Jurnee dropped her purse on the floor then sat down on the bed.

LaToria dropped her face on Jurnee’s lap, sobbing like a baby. Jurnee tried to console her by rubbing her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, just let it all out, baby,” Jurnee whispered.

LaToria gripped Jurnee’s blouse, thankful that she was not alone anymore.

Last night had been hard on her. She had stayed up, hoping Trevon would return or at least call. Her guilt was too thick, which stopped her from calling him. It took a few minutes for her sobs to die down. Jurnee lifted up LaToria’s tear streaked face. “It’s time to talk.”

“What time is it?” LaToria sniffed, wiping her eyes.

“Five twenty-eight.”

LaToria sat up. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Where is Trevon?” Jurnee asked as LaToria got off the bed. When she got no answer, she assumed that LaToria’s grief was over Trevon.

LaToria stood at the sink, head down and her arms braced on the edge. She did not look up until Jurnee walked in behind her.

“Ain’t going no where ‘til you tell me what’s going on.” Jurnee stood beside LaToria with her hands on her hips.

“I—just did something stupid, that’s all.” Latoria looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wild and out of place. I look a mess!

As if she were a mind reader, Jurnee picked up a comb then stood behind LaToria to straighten her hair.

“What happened?” Jurnee knew that combing LaToria’s hair would calm her.

“I—I did it with Trevon last night.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jurnee replied, smiling.

LaToria waited a few seconds. “We um, didn’t use protection.”

Jurnee froze and looked at LaToria’s reflection in the mirror.

“I know it was stupid, but I wanted to—do it, Jurnee.”

“How do you feel about him?” Jurnee resumed combing LaToria’s hair.

LaToria shrugged.

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t. I don’t know what I feel for him. I’ma look real stupid to be . . . in love or some dumb shit.”

“You trying to end up like me?”

“Like you? What do you mean?”

“You think I’m happy being alone? You . . .” She paused to turn LaToria by her shoulders. “You can’t worry about what people will say. To hell with that. If you like Trevon, tell him. Did you?”

LaToria pouted. “No. I told him—that I hated him then kicked him out.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Call him.”

“No.”

“Stop being stubborn, LaToria!”

“I’m not calling him. What we did—it was a mistake.”

Jurnee crossed her arms. “Bullshit. Did you ever have a mistake with Swagga?”

“Hell no!”

“Don’t lie to yourself. You know it wasn’t a mistake and you know you wanted it to happen.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” LaToria tried to walk around Jurnee, but her path was blocked.

“I bet you walked out on him when he was trying to talk to you.”

“Why do you care!”

“I care because I got love for you! I care enough that I need you to be happy, even if it’s not with me. That’s why I care!”

LaToria turned her back on Jurnee. “I want to be left alone.”

Jurnee laid her hands on LaToria’s waist in a sexual manner. “Don’t be like that.”

Jurnee lowered her lips to LaToria’s neck. She gently kissed on her flesh. LaToria closed her eyes as Jurnee began to explore her body.

“Take your clothes off.” Jurnee turned LaToria back around then pushed her tongue into her mouth. Piece by piece, their clothes formed a pile at their feet. They took turns pulling off each other’s panties. Both nude, they went back into the bedroom. Slipping on the bed, they kissed again while feeling on each other’s wet pussy. Wanting more, Jurnee moved on top of LaToria in a 69. Soft moans and slow licks were given for the next eight to ten minutes. Both knew how to pull a climax from the other.

Jurnee blew on LaToria’s phat clit, while fingering her pussy in a rapid circular motion.

LaToria tried to push Trevon from her mind as she ate Jurnee out. She wanted him. Wanted him above her, pushing her knees back to her ears. Wanted him to thrust that dick deep. Wanted him to moan her name. Wanted him to . . . she just wanted him.

TWENTY-THREE

8:21 p.m.

West Palm Beach, Florida

Kendra refused to look at her watch. The fact was already proven. Trevon was late. Maybe he’s just having trouble finding this restaurant. I’ve been here since seven-fifty. This is so embarrassing. I asked for a table for two and I’m sitting here alone.

She looked around the dimly lit serene setting. By candlelight, the other couples sitting at their tables were eating and talking softly. There were sixteen tables, all were filled and only Kendra sat alone. She caught the male waiter heading toward her table. She waved him off when he signaled a refill on her glass.

Okay, he stood me up. I can’t get mad. Maybe I should call and see what’s up before I jump to any silly conclusions. Kendra looked down at her freshly painted fingernails. She had put in a lot of effort to look good for him. No. I won’t call him. If he was coming, he would have been here by now. Suck it up. I just played myself. Feeling cheerless, she lifted the glass of champagne to her glossy full lips. Setting it back on the table, she reached for her black leather tiny clutch purse. Suck it up. I’m a big girl. I can handle this. She slid back from the table when a black waitress approached her from behind.

“Ms. Kendra Paige?”

Kendra turned her head, surprised to see a friendly waitress behind her with an arm full of white roses. “I’m Kendra.”

The waitress smiled as she walked to the side of the table. “These are for you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” The waitress nodded. “Courtesy of the gentleman behind you.”

Kendra spun around and caught Trevon walking toward her between the tables. She smiled, placing her clutch purse back on the table. The waitress left the flowers on the table as Kendra stood to greet Trevon.

Damn! He is so handsome! I gots to keep my cool around him because he got me acting out of my character.

Trevon had never dealt with an older woman. He had left the streets when he was only eighteen years old.Trevon walked toward her with his next move taken from movies he had seen.

“Um, sorry I’m late,” he said, standing in front of her.

“You’re here. That’s all I care about.” She smiled at his grown and sexy appearance. He had on an off-white suit with a matching tie.

“You look beautiful,” Trevon said truthfully.

“Thank you.” She blushed.

Trevon slid her chair back. She sat down and allowed him to assist her moving up to the table. That was how it was done in the movies.

“Thank you for the flowers.” She picked one up to smell it.

“I’m late because I was pulled over by the police.”

“For what?”

“DWB.”

She frowned. “DWB?”

“Driving while black.” He shrugged.

“You didn’t get a ticket or anything did you?”

“Nah. Just given a hard time.”

“Are you okay?”

Trevon could not look into her eyes. He could not admit the paralyzing fear that had gripped him when those blue lights flashed behind him. At one moment, he had thought about running from them. His heart had sped up. Trevon was plain out scared. Scared of going back to prison.

“Trevon.” Kendra reached across the table for his hand. “It’s okay.” Her voice took on a reassuring tone. She noticed the glimmer of fear that had woven into his face. She felt bad for all of her threats to send him back to prison.

The waiter broke the spell when he approached their table to take their orders. Kendra would enjoy herself and dump her diet, just for tonight. They both ordered a steak with seasoned fries and mashed potatoes with gravy. Quiet intruded upon the two, as Trevon got lost in his internal thoughts. Kendra cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. She asked Trevon general first date questions until she saw his tense shoulders relax and he seemed comfortably seated. Their food arrived twenty minutes later.

“So, how are you adjusting to being free after fifteen years?” she finally asked the question that had been on her mind.

Trevon briefly fidgeted in his seat. “I must admit that . . . mentally, it ain’t easy,” he said, cutting his steak.

“Have you ever sought any counseling?” She was glued to his every word, looking at him between lifting the food to her mouth.

“Nah. Kinda . . . just dealing with it myself. I ain’t crazy or nothing.”

“I would hope not,” she kidded.

“I um . . . At times, it just seems unreal. I feel like—like I don’t fit out here.”

“It will take time, Trevon. I know about prison life. I used to be a correctional officer.”

Trevon was surprised. “Prison ain’t no place to be.”

They spoke openly once Kendra told him not to view her as his parole officer tonight. Trevon reminded himself to go with the flow of things. As their time together increased, his thoughts of LaToria slid away. Soon he had her laughing and reaching across the table to touch his hand. He had read in prison that touching from a female was a positive sign of attraction. For now, he was keeping his hands to himself. The attraction was there on his side as well. He caught himself looking at her line of cleavage whenever she lowered her eyes to the plate. He took notice of how her breasts seemed to take up much of her top.

“I have some good news,” she later said after the waiter placed their ordered desserts on the table.

“What? I’m getting off parole early?” he asked, finding it easy to look into her eyes.

“No,” she said, crossing her legs. “I found a two bedroom apartment over on 103rd Street.”

“When can I check it out?” he asked eagerly.

“Tomorrow, if you want to. I can set you up with an assistance program if you need it.”

“I’m good. There are others in a needy position that might need it.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Trevon. I know a lot of people on government assistance that don’t need it. You’re an honest man.”

Trevon could not remember the last time he had really felt important. Being with Kendra was a challenge. It seemed that she understood him, when in truth she did.

“Tell me about your family. Why didn’t you ask to have your parole moved up to North Carolina to be near them?”

“For starters, I’m not a kid anymore. I love my mom and sister and I’d do anything for them. I’m down here because I want to make it on my own. Times are hard on them as it is and me living off them won’t help.”

“I can understand that. But you’ve been away for so long. Have you seen them since you’ve been out?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “They came down for three days after I got out. We hung out and stuff. I talk to them just about every day.”

“What is your sister doing?”

“She’s a weather—um—a TV meteorologist for a news station up in Raleigh, North Carolina.”

“Wow. That’s wonderful!”

“Yeah. She kept her promise to me and finished school.”

Kendra crossed her legs. “You know, I had to read up on your case notes, Trevon. I can’t say what you did was right. But as a mother, I think I would have lost it, too, had someone violated my child.”

“They didn’t believe my sister.”

“I read about that trial, too.”

“My only regret was the pain I placed on my mom and sis.”

“What about the life you took?”

“He shouldn’t have touched my sister.”

“Do you still feel anger? Looking back, would you have done anything differently?”

Trevon laid his fork down then picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth. “Would you think of me differently if I told you that I wished I had my eyes open when I shot him?”

“No.”

“I was scared, Kendra. I couldn’t even hold the gun straight without two hands on it. I shot twice . . . with my eyes closed. When I opened them he was on the ground. Just on his side. I dropped the gun and just stood there looking at the body as the police rolled up.”

Kendra tried to envision Trevon as a young teen committing murder. “Don’t let the past drag you down, Trevon. Like you said, you were a kid then. Now you’re a man.”

“A man that’s somewhat stuck with a young mind.”

“So what do you want out of life? What is your true desire?”

“I want to just stay free. I want to have a family. A wife, some kids, I just want to be someone.”

“You are someone, Trevon.”

“Um, you have a little girl, right?” he asked, pushing into her personal life.

“How do you—”

“When we crossed paths at the gas station, remember?”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. But yes, I do have a precious little girl. Her name is Carmelita and she’s three.”

“I hope to be a father one day.”

“Really?”

He nodded yes. “Just have to find that perfect woman, I guess.”

“There’s no such thing, Trevon.”

“Why do you say that?”

Kendra waited to answer as a waiter walked by their table. “Everyone has their own issues to deal with. Example, you have your past.”

“And you?”

Kendra took her glasses off and rubbed between her eyes. “I’m not perfect.”

“Can I ask why you’re not with your kid’s father?”

“I was never with him.”

Trevon did not understand. He was about to change the topic, but she spoke up.

“I met my baby’s father when I was working at the prison.”

He understood now. “Let me guess. He got out, hooked up with you then left you?”

Kendra wiped a smudge off her glasses. Should I tell him the truth? How will he view me? Kendra wanted to vent to him. She wanted him to know that she was human. One that was able to make a mistake. “I met, Marcus while he was in prison. He was only in for a six-month skid. I fell for his game and we had an affair while I was working at the prison.” She laid her glasses on the table. “We had sex a few times. And me being silly, I ended up pregnant. It wasn’t something I planned. It just happened. I was vulnerable and I wasn’t thinking.”

Trevon had not expected her to cross that line. During his fifteen years in prison, he had heard about inmates being sexually involved with female guards. Trevon knew it took more than the average inmate to bag a female guard behind bars. Okay, if she had taken the risk in prison . . . Now I see why she’s risking her job once again.

“Can I assume that you’re single?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, I am. My last relationship was with one of my co-workers and that didn’t work out.”

She did not add in the fact of him being white. She had ended the relationship on the strength of her daughter. She was already without a father figure. Why confuse her with an interracial relationship. “How about you?” she asked, hoping he would say no.

“The same.”

Kendra opened her clutch purse and pulled out a slim handheld device. She laid it on his side of the table.

“What’s this?” He picked it up, flipping it over and around. There was a black screen about the size of a credit card.

“It’s a digital picture album. Just hit that left button on the bottom.”

Trevon was amazed at the advancement of technology. Turning it on, he viewed pictures of Kendra’s little girl from the day she was born.

“How many pictures does it hold?”

“Two hundred. I have a bigger one at home.”

“Your little girl is cute.”

“And she’s a mess, too.” Kendra beamed proudly.

Trevon came up on a picture that showed Kendra, her daughter and a face he knew.

“Um, were you and your daughter at a concert?” Trevon turned the screen toward Kendra.

The smile on her face turned into a frown.

“That’s Marcus Brooks aka Swagga. He’s Carmelita’s father.”