Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE) (20 page)

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Authors: Jean St. Claire

Tags: #african american romance, #interracial romance, #white guy black girl love, #scandal tv romance, #multicultural romance

BOOK: Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE)
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Holly stood outside on her lawn, talking to reporters while her children looked on in the background. But Keisha was not prepared for the sight of two familiar figures near her driveway, talking excitedly with reporters.

Randal Baker and Anthony Lilly were standing in the middle of her yard, acting for all the world as if they were world-renowned celebrities, smiling at all the flashing cameras.

It was hell getting into their driveway, because of the ornery crowd surrounding their vehicle, but once they got through, the mob backed off, knowing to follow the Johnson's on their property and threatening them would be trespassing and against the law.

And if I had a gun I'd shoot every last one of they nosy asses.

"Mrs. Johnson!"

Her name was called repeatedly as she jumped out of the car, quickly going towards the two boys.

"Y'all two come inside with us," Keisha ordered her two ex-students, shielding her eyes from all the flashes of light.

"Come on, Keisha," Davonte protested as the boys began to follow them to their door step, "Let these kids go home away from this crazy mess."

"Shut up, nigga!"

Randal chortled behind her. "Black on black violence alert!"

In the background, reporters and the people were shouting all sorts of inane questions that Keisha tuned out.

It took Davonte a second to get the door open with the key, and in that same time frame, Holly was rushing over, shouting Keisha's name.

"Keisha!"

Not today bitch.

When Davonte had the door open, Keisha quickly ushered them through, slamming the door in Holly's face just as she reached the door step. The woman began pounding on the door, yelling her name, but Keisha ignored her.

It was a relief to see her babies, sitting in the floor playing their game as usual. They had no idea what had happened with their mommy, but they sure were happy to see her. They came running up, hugging on to her tightly.

Maria was laying across the couch, but sat up quickly when she saw that Keisha had returned home. "Hi Mrs. Johnson," she greeted, shaking her head. "I heard about what happen. That is completely awful."

Keisha gave her look reserved for road kill, continuing to hug her children.

When she was done coddling her boys, Keisha turned to her former students, but before she could open her mouth, Anthony came out with, "Nice ass Mrs. Johnson!"

Randal slapped Anthony upside the head for his comment. "If you're wondering why we are here, it's because Zack sent us."

"Why?" asked Keisha.

"Zack does not want to get you into further trouble by being seen anywhere near you. Besides, his dad has forbidden him to have any contact with you." Randal went on to outline Zack's version of events, something about a jealous girlfriend stealing Zack's phone and sending out the pictures and going to the police with it.

When it was all over, Keisha stood there pondering the tale, wondering if it could all be true.

"I don't understand," Anthony said with a shake of his head, his arms crossed across his chest. "If you were going to get it on with a student, why couldn't you let me hit it Mrs. Johnson? I would have never allowed any pictures of you to be sent out like that."

Randal snorted. "Like she would want anything you got, pencil dick."

Nearby, Davonte glowered at the two boys, put off by their lewd banter. "These little wonder breads need to get the fuck out of my house."

But Keisha ignored her husband and Anthony's rudeness, her mind on all the problems going on in her life.

After a moment, she said, "Thank you two for sharing this information with me. You both may go when things die down outside. In the meantime, help yourselves to anything in my refrigerator."

Randal was immediately making his way to the kitchen, pausing once to say, "Thank you Mrs. Johnson. I don't care about what happened or what anyone out there says...you were the best math teacher we, or North High, has ever had. Black or white."

The compliment warmed her heart over.

Davonte was immediately complaining about having her ex-students in their house, telling her they needed to leave that instant, but when Keisha could take Davonte's complaining no longer, she stopped her husband with four words.

"I want a divorce."

****             

I
t was several weeks later, on a cool weekend day. Keisha was lying in bed, feeling absolutely horrible about everything going on in her life. She had woken up that morning feeling sick from all the stress she had been put through.

She was certain that she now had several new grey hairs because of it.

Keisha had been run over the coals in the media non-stop since her release. People had said such awful and untrue things about her. She had received racist hate mail and a load of death threats immediately following the news of her release.

People were calling from all over the world, wanting to know her story. Surprisingly enough, she had some well-wishers who had donated her money, convinced that she had been wrongfully accused.

She'd even received letters from students from around the world, now all hopeful that they could get it on with a hot teacher. Before long, she had to pull her phone out of the wall because of its incessant ringing.

She had refused all attempts by the media to get her to do an interview in an exchange for a large sum of money, something her mother had objected vehemently against.

"Girl, you better do some of them damn interviews," Joy had scolded her one day when Keisha had called her mother crying her eyes out.

"But I can't momma," Keisha had sobbed. "It's just not worth it."

"Girl are you crazy?" Joy had half-yelled. "Not worth it? Your career is basically over after what happened, so you better get all the money you can get while you still can for you and your babies." She snorted. "Hell, you did the crime, you might as well get the dime."

But Keisha hadn't accepted the offers.

She was now unsure about her future. There was an investigation launched by Internal Affairs against law enforcement for her sudden release. No one had posted bail, yet Keisha had been let free by an order that no one seemed to be able to find.

Because of this, there was no word when Keisha would be taken back into custody or if there would even be a trial at all, though Keisha was sure there would be one eventually.

That bitch ass D.A. seemed extra determined to make Keisha's life a living hell.

A sudden surge of nausea sent her racing to the toilet inside the bathroom adjacent to her and Davonte's bedroom. She heaved several times in the toilet, her stomach contracting painfully.

When it was over she wiped at her mouth, slumping against the wall, feeling weak all over.

She missed Zack. Missed him a lot. She still had no idea if he had sent those pictures or not, but she wanted to see him...to talk to him...to touch him. The image of his beautiful blue eyes came to her mind's eyes, feeling her with longing.

Another bout of nausea sent her crawling over to toilet to heave several more times.

While in the disgusting process, she heard shouting voices coming from downstairs. She had no clue what was going on, and for a moment, she worried that one of those crazy vigilantes had burst inside of her house to exact justice.

But several seconds later, a familiar voice was calling her name.

"Keisha!"

It was Zack. And it sounded as if he and Davonte were arguing. Keisha had no time to listen to what they were saying because she felt another heave coming along.

"Boy, what the fuck is wrong with you? Coming up into my house after what you did with my wife! Not to mention, all of them damn reporters waiting for you to show your pale face here, which is going to cause even more trouble for me and my family!"

"Keisha!" Zack yelled from somewhere outside her bedroom.

"I'm bout to show your wonder bread ass not to be fucking with any man's wife ever again!"

Keisha heard the sound of scuffling and more yells, but could not get up to go break up the fight. She felt so sick. It was terrible. Suddenly, her sickness seemed to hit her with a force of a freight train. It was so familiar...

That's because she
knew
what it was.

With a gasp, she stumbled to her feet, pulling the door open and falling unceremoniously into her bedroom floor.

Davonte had Zack by the shirt, pushed back on their bed, his fist poised inches away from his face, while Zack looked with longing at his lover trudging across the floor.

"Keisha!"

"Stop it Davonte," Keisha gasped weakly, crawling over to the bed. "Get away from him now."

"Why?" asked Davonte angrily, his face twisted into a hateful scowl. "This little white bastard ruined us. Ruined my family."

Nigga, you did that long before I even got us into this mess.

But Keisha was too weak to argue.

"It's over Davonte," she choked out, nausea threatening to overwhelm her. "We're through."

Davonte turned on her, his face stubbornly set. He had been defying her the whole three weeks about the divorce, saying that she had no clue about what was going to happen with her. She still might be going through a trial and going to jail so, he had said, so why would they put themselves through more hell with all that going on?

But Keisha did not care. She wanted Davonte out of her life, now more so than ever.

"Why Keisha? We already been through this. We ain't getting a divorce and we're going to work through our problems. We've been through too much to let some little horny cracker tear us apart."

"You'll be seeing it my way here soon," Keisha said with a weak shake of her head as she crawled onto the bed. She took Zack's hand into hers as he looked at her with longing, his body shaking like a leaf.

Davonte's face darkened with fury and he looked like he would jump into the bed and murder both her and Zack, but before he did, he managed to get out, "Why is that?"

Looking into Zack's beautiful blue eyes, Keisha suddenly felt unsure about everything...even what she was about to say.

"Because I'm pregnant."

Epilogue

T
wo years later...

"Come here Havanna!" Keisha called to her honey-colored baby girl. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Havanna was busy climbing on shoulder of the couch while her older brothers pounded fiercely on their joysticks, enthralled with their new video game.

Suddenly, Jamal let out a disgusted snort. "Ugh! It stanks so bad!"

"Yeah," Lamar agreed, dropping his controller and covering his nose with a sour frown. He tossed a disdainful glance over at his pale-faced sister. "Momma! Hava done dookied on herself!"

Sighing, Keisha scratched at her constricting, house arrest ankle bracelet, motioning to her little girl. She was too tired to get up from her seat at the kitchen table, having been on her feet all day.

And from that work out I got last night.

Keisha half-smiled.

"Havanna get over here so momma can change you," Keisha snapped.

Making nonsensical noises, Havanna finally obeyed and tumbled to the floor, giggling along the way. Then she unsteadily got to her feet and rushed over to her momma.

Keisha picked her baby up when she reached her, crinkling her nose at the awful smell.

"Your brothers are right Hava," Keisha choked, gazing into her baby girl's bright blue eyes. "You do stank. Bad."

Gently placing her daughter on the table, she grabbed the pink pack of diapers that sat nearby.

"Davonte is going to drop by soon to pick up the boys," a deep voice said behind her.

Turning abruptly, Keisha took in the image of twenty-year old Zack, leaning against the doorframe as he gazed at his daughter with love. He looked so good with his hair slicked back in his blue jeans and white t-shirt that Keisha almost forgot all of her legal woes.

"Is he?" Keisha went back to changing her daughter, holding in her breath.

Zack chuckled at Keisha's discomfort and took a step back...probably to get away from the pungent stench of his daughter's mess. "Yup. Said he'd be here in the next half-hour."

When Keisha was done changing her baby, Zack came over to pick her up, but Keisha raised a finger, saying, "Nuh uh, boy. Not just yet."

"What?" Zack protested.

Keisha nodded at the wrapped-up stinky load. "Take that mess outside."

And throw it into Holly's yard
, Keisha thought jokingly.

With a sigh, Zack went over to grab his baby's wrapped up diaper, holding it carefully away from him. Then with an adorable smile directed at his giggling little girl, he said, "Daddy will be right back."

Keisha watched him walk out the front door, particularly watching his sexy ass.

It amazed her. She hadn't expected Zack to stick around after the trial and the ensuing legal troubles, but he had. She still did not think their relationship would last, given their more than a decade age gap, but she would enjoy it while she could.

But they had something that bonded them together, so they would always be a part of each other's lives no matter what happened.

Havanna had been an unexpected surprise...and had been the one thing that tipped the scales with Davonte. He had cursed her for humiliating him in such a public way; screwing one of her students, the whole lurid affair being spread over the news and then to top it all off, the baby announcement.

That
was the one thing that nearly gave both of Zack's parents' strokes.  The mayor had come to Keisha many times secretly, demanding that she get an abortion and keep everything quiet, but she had refused. She was not about to kill her baby for no one...even if that motha fucka was the mayor of the city.

Much to his parent's consternation, Zack had staunchly remained on Keisha's side in the matter, standing by her through thick and thin. Because of Zack's unwavering support, his parents had no choice but to go along with it.

But they had conditions.

Keisha was not to reveal who the baby's father was to no one, and in return the mayor would do everything in his power to make sure Keisha did not go to jail for her crimes, which is why she was still in her now paid-off house, on house arrest, instead of sitting in a jail cell.

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