 
### Church Boyz

### Rod of the Wicked

A Novel

H.H. Fowler

Smashwords Edition

Copyright© 2012 H.H. Fowler

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means; graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

All characters, names, descriptions, and traits are products of the author's imagination. Similarities of actual people – living or dead are purely coincidental.

Other Books by H.H. Fowler

When Things Go Wrong (Church Boyz – Book 2)

My Last Cry (Church Boyz – Book 3)

Javier (urban crime/romance)

Connect with H.H. Fowler on Twitter:

@fowlerguy1

Blog: www.churchboyz.org

### Acknowledgements

Thank You, Lord Jesus for giving me the fortitude to complete this project.

To my beloved wife, Andrea, for supporting me all the way, even when things didn't appear to be moving in the right direction. This book is dedicated to you, babes, and to our son, Ahmadasun.

My parents, thank you for your steadfast love and prayers.

My sister, Kenva, and to everyone who believes in me. I love you.

Also, I want to give special recognition to Anita Bunkley, my editor, who has done an excellent job in helping me to shape my story chapter by chapter.

Thank you all and may we all fulfill our God-given destinies.

## Chapter One

"I don't believe in God!" Dominic swung his size eleven feet out of the chaise and planted them squarely on the rug. He shook two angry fingers at his mentor, as if holding a pistol. "As a matter of fact, I don't believe that there is a God. And, I'm sick and tired of trifling jokers like you, pushing your weak religion on people. It's bad enough the government tolerates you bunch of zealots!"

Abraham's mouth fell open. He was astonished that such blasphemy could come from a boy who'd undergone five grueling years of Christian mentorship. On top of that, Dominic was the chief organist at Mount Moriah and had recently been promoted to an auxiliary assistant position in the youth department.

"What in the world possessed you to say something so stupid?" Abraham shot back, "You have to be out your mind to allow such profane language to come out of your mouth."

The sides of Dominic's mouth twitched as he struggled to keep a straight face, but he ended up exploding in laughter as he watched Abraham scratch his head in confusion. "I can't believe you fell for that. I can't believe it! Man, you should have seen your face..."

"Watch yourself," Abraham warned. "I told you boys about playing around like that."

"Well, that's the language we hear when we visit those streets," Sanchez said in Dominic's defense. Sanchez's Indian red complexion matched the chocolate swirls in the carpet, even though he was far from having any Indian heritage in his blood. However, if anyone tried to tell him that, Sanchez would debate the issue for weeks. With Abraham still trying to regain his composure, Sanchez seized the opportunity to knock out another one of Abraham's pawns, which had moseyed into the path of his queen.

Playing Chess was an integral part of the Mount Moriah mentoring program and Abraham believed it taught the youth how to be thoughtful and deliberate.

Sanchez began to recount one of the experiences that Dominic had heard a dozen times – one that Dominic still found as hilarious and as farfetched as any one of Sanchez's crazy stories. "This Asian dude told me that Jesus and His followers were cannibals. Said they were nothing but blood drinking, flesh eating, vampires. He was convinced that Jesus' disciples ate His body. That's why the tomb was empty."

"Oh really?" Abraham smiled, relieved that his protégés had not morphed into atheists overnight. "And, what was your response?"

"Man, I looked up at that dude and swore he'd just up and walked out a mental institution. Now what's a smart, respectable brutha like me to do in a situation like that? I turned and left that dude rambling to himself." Sanchez stood up, making a dramatic gesture. "But the second I turned my back, this dude let out a dirty old growl – sounded like a papa lion. I swear, my blood froze and every hair on the back of my neck tried to jump to the ground. Man, I didn't even bother to look back. I took off runnin' down that strip in my good church shoes. I slipped on a twinkie and almost bashed the heck out of these gorgeous lips."

"Boy, it's rough trying to witness to some of these crazy folks," Dominic said, as he fell back into the couch in tears, appreciating the way Sanchez spun a story. The fellow was a born comedian.

"For sho, for sho," Sanchez said as he retook his seat in front of the Chessboard. "But, regardless of how we adjust our evangelistic approach, people are just not interested in hearin' what we have to say."

"To an extent, I agree that the face of evangelism has changed," Abraham told them, trying to turn the light moment into a serious one. His king was in check, so he slid two spaces over to block Sanchez from winning the game. "But, I disagree that people are not listening. Perhaps, not the way they were a couple of decades ago, but they are still listening. We have to pay close attention to the peculiarity of this generation. Meaning, the avenues of reaching the heart has evolved. We must find more effective means of connecting our efforts of evangelism, or we'll always complain that people are not listening to us."

"Sir, that tidbit you said right there, sounds nice," Dominic said. "But, it's hard to execute. I mean, most dudes my age are not into anything. Their priorities are jacked up."

"How could you say that – when we have such a thriving youth department?" Abraham said. "Seventy percent of the males that attend the youth forums are between the ages of fifteen and twenty."

"My point exactly. I'm twenty-four," Dominic smirked.

Abraham raised an eyebrow. "You're inferring that by the time those boys reach your age their priorities are gonna be jacked up?"

"I didn't say that."

"You're trying to be funny, then," Abraham said. "You, of all people know that Mount Moriah offers excellent opportunities for young men, like yourself, to excel. The numbers on the outside might be slow in coming, but over the years, we've built an impressive plan, and my suggestion is that we continue to focus on developing what we already have. I'm gonna need you boys to grasp my vision for this mentorship program."

Sanchez nodded his agreement. He hadn't been friends with Dominic long, but they had a good connection. They were the type of bruthas that clicked after meeting each other for the first time. Out of curiosity, he'd joined the mentorship program and found it interesting enough to stick around. Where he came from, men who were willing to pass on their mantles of wisdom and knowledge were virtually nonexistent.

"I have a question," he said, "And it goes back to that part about connecting our efforts. What obstacles do you think are preventing people from accepting our message? I could think of several. I can only speak for me; I never really got into this Jesus stuff until I moved here to Tampa. That's when I–"

"Boy, everyone has heard about Jesus," Dominic interrupted. "Where'd you grow up again? Under a rock?"

Abraham chuckled. "Everyone didn't grow up with their parents being pastors, Dominic."

"But still, who doesn't know about God in the twenty-first century? Technology has made Him more accessible than ever."

"Even so, Negro," Sanchez said, sliding his queen straight across the board, next to Abraham's king. "People these days are not actively pursuing God in their hearts. I know I wasn't. And having all of this info available with just a push of a button won't mean much anyway. I think we need to focus on what can be done to get people to take a serious look at Christianity."

Abraham appeared as if he were rolling that statement around in his head. "Well, I think that having relationships is an important key. Each individual is different; they all have obstacles when attempting to put their faith in God. I believe that if we build sincere friendships, without being judgmental, the chances of our message being accepted are greater. People don't like the idea of being sold or coerced into something. They would appreciate the love, honesty, and mutual respect that are generated in friendships, which can become deciding factors in their decision. And then I think some people simply have a misconception of God, and all they need is a humble-hearted Christian to present a clear presentation of the gospel to them."

Dominic grinned. "You make this stuff sound so easy."

"We make it complicated," Abraham said, sneaking a glance at his watch – the third time in fifteen minutes.

"You have somewhere to go?" Sanchez asked.

"Why? Because I looked at my watch? That could mean that I'm ready for you boys to get out my lair."

"Your lair?" Dominic chuckled. "Don't you mean hair?"

"No. I said it right the first time."

"Sir, you are too proper for me. What ever happen to house or crib?"

"Crib? That's worse," Abraham said. "Cattle live in cribs. Besides, you boys would keep me here 'til daybreak. I don't mind, but I have a life I would like to get to."

"Then, that's all you had to say, old man." Dominic pushed up from the chaise. "We've been taught not to wear out our welcome. Isn't there always a part two to everything?"

"Checkmate!" Sanchez roared with his hands held high in the air.

"It was a draw," Abraham smiled. "But you put up a pretty good challenge."

"For sho, for sho," Sanchez grinned, pushing up from the carpet. "Thanks for the convo...it was interestin', to say the least. As Dominic says, there's a part two to everythin'. I really enjoy talkin' with you, man. You're really a down-to-earth kinda brutha and someday I'll–"

"Man, let's go!" Dominic slapped Sanchez's back. "We know you're not used to all the one-on-one attention, but believe me, we get it. Save what's left of your dignity."

"Sunday, sir!" Sanchez yelled. "And don't forget to lock up!"

The smile on Abraham's face was one of pure amusement as he reflected on how Dominic had transformed himself from an anti-social introvert into an outgoing clown. He made a brief stop to the kitchen before heading to his bedroom, where his scented candles had been burning for the last several hours.

North I-75

"Don't forget, Negro." Sanchez pointed a finger at Dominic. "We have to bust this move on Sunday after church."

"What move?"

"You playin', right? Me and you just had this discussion."

"Remind me. You run your mouth so much 'til I have trouble retaining anything you say to me."

"My backhand works like a charm," Sanchez smirked. "Keep hardening your mouth and you'll swallow a coupla them teeth down your throat."

Dominic chuckled at his boy, mostly because his Bahamian accent made everything sound hilarious, especially when he said stupid stuff like that. He had a Hispanic name, with an Indian complexion, and was from the Caribbean islands. What a combination! Four summers ago, they became fast friends after playing a three on three basketball game in the church's newly built gymnasium. Being the new cat from the Bahamas, Sanchez had something to prove, but by the end of the showdown, they discovered that his rhetoric was bigger than his game. However, his ability to connect with anyone at any level was one of the traits that made him popular, and made Dominic feel as if he'd grown up with him on the block.

"Oh shoots!" Dominic smacked his forehead, easing his foot from the accelerator. "I forgot my Accounting notes."

"That's an easy fix," Sanchez said, as if he had all of the answers. He was carpooling with Dominic until he got his truck back on the road, which he doubted would be any time soon. His transmission was shot and he didn't have the first dollar toward getting a new one. "Call Abraham and tell him to drop them off to you tomorrow."

"No can do. I need to review them tonight. I have a mock exam in the morning."

Dominic swerved to the left lane and made a sharp U-turn at the light on Fletcher Avenue. He floored the accelerator, hoping to cover nine miles in five minutes.

Sanchez shot Dominic one of those 'have-you-lost-your-mind' looks. He yanked the seatbelt across his chest and started pumping the imaginary brakes in front of him.

Dominic took the short sprint up Abraham's driveway, his attention focused on getting his notes, or he would have noticed the odd pair of high heel shoes piled under a nearby shrub.

"Pastor Winder!" he called. "Do we have to remind you of everything? You left your door open..." He saw her toes first, painted hot red, drumming against the carpet like a passenger waiting for her train. His eyes slowly climbed up from one body part to another until they came to rest on a pair of red, glossy lips.

"Hello, handsome," she smiled; wiggling her fingers as if she were in a beauty pageant. "If I'd known you were comin', I would've invited some friends over. Come closer, sweet boy..."

"Whoa!" Dominic jumped back and threw up his palms in front of her. "I must have stepped up in the wrong place..." But that couch looks familiar. It looks just like the one I sat on half an hour ago. I remember that painting of Jesus being baptism by John the Baptist. This has to be Abraham's crib. He thought to himself.

"Didn't your momma teach you how to entertain strangers?" She clutched her breasts and shook them with the intent to entice. "Touch 'em, boy! These are only breasts!"

Dominic's mind went into shutdown mode. He couldn't think clearly, not with a naked white woman roughing him up as if he were a problem child. He was not accustomed to such aggression from women, especially not from one who was parading around, contaminating Abraham's holy floors. Where on earth had she sprung from? And where was Abraham? He would bet his life that Abraham hadn't a clue as to what the devil was going on in his front room.

"He's in the shower, green boy," she said as if she'd read his mind. "And I'm 'bout to join him. Turn the knob on your way out, will ya? You're nothin' but a cheeseball."

No, he did not just hear her say that. If she thought for one minute his mentor would bow to such depravity, she had better prepare to be baptized with a spanking rebuke. Abraham did not tolerate looseness, especially not the cheap advances of a prostitute. Dominic had a mind to yank her by her frail arms and toss her out on her white bottom. That was until he heard Abraham's voice, calling her like a man in desperation. The grin on her face confirmed that what was about to go down had nothing to do with mentoring.

The realization smacked Dominic like a ton of bricks. He stumbled backward, feeling his knees buckle under the weight of Abraham's lies and blatant hypocrisy. This was too much for him to process all at once. He had to get out of this place. The comfort and the peace he'd felt there was replaced with a sense of loss and confusion. Grabbing his Accounting notes, which shook between his fingers, he made his exit. He vowed it'd be the last time he set foot in that part of town.

## Chapter Two

Mount Moriah Baptist Church – Sunday Morning Service

The Paxton men were known for their dashing looks, which drove women into a blushing frenzy. Their smooth copper-toned complexion exuded confidence. Their toothy smiles got well-respected attention. Their eyes were unforgettable, but nothing appealed more to the Paxton's fan club than tall black men who had the guts to bare a clean-shaven head. It was unquestionably bodacious. Quirks and imperfections were overlooked in the world of women. Some actually made it their business to study them, concocting schemes to ensure that their genes be preserved into the next generation.

Devotedly, every Sunday morning at Mount Moriah a horde of them filed into the first two rows, an assortment of every skin shade – mesmerized by Pastor Leroy Paxton's six-feet-two-hundred-pound powerful frame. Like Asian tiger mosquitoes, they sucked in every word that oozed through the pastor's full lips. Nevertheless, Leroy Paxton was a fine preacher who had worked assiduously to gain the admiration he now enjoyed.

Rumor had it that he idolized his pulpit and kept his ministers around to serve merely as showpieces, fearing a 'holy' insurrection. His father had experienced conflict early in his ministry, which resulted in a three way split in the congregation. But, Leroy was a quick learner and would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening.

In today's church, everything seemed to be about the numbers, and although Pastor Leroy's membership tipped near seven thousand, with matching seating capacity, he was humbled. He understood the quickest way to the bottom was to saunter in the shoes of arrogance. His church had state-of-the-art everything. From the sound system to the automatic flush of the toilets, it was the ultimate multi-cultural, mega church, sitting on several acres in the heart of Hillsborough County, Florida. The offering was unheard of: fifty grand a week was an insult to the accounting books.

The pastor's salary was sweet and his wife, First Lady Michelle Paxton, was stunning; and to most, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her silky ebony curls and her petite build gave her somewhat of a regal appearance. He winked at her as he normally would when their eyes met. To him, there wasn't another woman on the planet as fine as Michelle. She looked her part; the best dressed First Lady in the building.

Leroy made certain that she wore nothing but the finest. Her embroidered big-brimmed hats were flown in from London. Her custom-made suits were shipped in from New York, and by his choice, she only wore shoes designed by Pedro Garcia or Marc Jacobs, so expensive that they would cost the average person a two-week salary. Leroy showed her off every Sunday morning on their newly owned TV station. And to seal his good fortune, they were blessed with three fine-looking kids. What more could a man ask for?

Handsomely arrayed in his red cassock that irresistibly hugged his body, he took to the pulpit at 11:45 a.m. – which was his preferred time to begin a sermon. He would scan the massive audience, lingering on the rows of people who had come from all over to hear him. He broke out into that trademark smile that softly revealed a pinch of gratefulness. To the right, his millionaires sat and to his left were his political supporters. They all had his back.

"God has been favorable to us all, my fellow laborers," Leroy said in that James Earl Jones voice. "The abundance of His blessings is evident in us and in this place."

The congregation responded, some with a sanctified nod, others with a reverent wave.

"Yes, my brothers and sisters, we could have been wasted in the market square of life. Our virtues lost and our hope destroyed. We must always recall where the Lord has brought us from, unless we forget where He's taking us. We cannot forget His hand, which has sustained us over the years. That's why we ought to show love one for another. Be kind to one another; live peaceably with all men. Because if it wasn't for God's mercy, most of us would have been buried six feet under by now. Well, I know I would have been. But our God..." Leroy paused, stirring some of the people to their feet. They knew when his voice struck a certain pitch; he was on the home stretch. "I said our God, my friends, is worthy to be exalted. His hand of mercy has kept us alive!"

His voice was now filled with emotion as he paced away from the pulpit. It suddenly became hard for him to remain at ease, because his mind unexpectedly went back to the incident five years ago that had nearly cost him his life. It was a miracle that he survived the worst experience a man could endure. He pushed the memories aside and got back on track as the final minutes of his sermon swung into high gear.

"Shout hallelujah!" he yelled. "Shout hallelujah, church!"

Dominic pumped the organ along with Leroy, making the Hammond b3 croon like a nightingale, but it didn't match Leroy's excitement as the chords toddled between two full octaves.

Leroy hadn't a clue about the first note on the pipes, but he knew when a key was off and he knew when his voice wouldn't go beyond a certain range. On top of that, Dominic was ignoring all of Leroy's attempts to get his attention. That was because his eyes were parked somewhere else, like a predator ready to turn his prey into an afternoon snack.

_The prey must be close by_ , Leroy thought, as he followed Dominic's gaze across to the ministers' section. But there were too many of them for Leroy to single out which cassock was causing the disturbance.

Assistant minister, Shaniece Bryant, took the microphone from Leroy and rode upon the waves of excitement that he had created. Her feet, which were firmly snug in six-inch stilettos, stomped to the pulse of the soca medley. The band was known to be eclectic, and unpredictable – their ethnic jingles sweetly flavoring the atmosphere. Shaniece appreciated her position and took pride in the way she prepared her sermons. Her presentation was powerful and effective, which at times, stole a bit of Leroy's spotlight – but the people at Mount Moriah would have it no other way. It was one of the decisions that'd forced Leroy to install her as his assistant – a decision that he had soon regretted.

Obviously, that didn't sit well with Michelle at all, and after five years, she still threw it up in Leroy's face. How dare he make Shaniece assistant pastor over his wife, humiliating her image each time that woman stood up to speak? It was an ecumenical slap in the face. If her decision to punish Leroy had been made solely upon vendetta, she would have left Leroy with only the shirt on his back. But thank goodness, for the grace of God, and for the fact that every woman in Hillsborough County was just waiting for her to make one stupid move, she decided to stay.

"Did not our hearts burn," Shaniece bellowed in that sanctimonious voice. "Did not Pastor Paxton preach, how my God, the Word, came forth with boldness and with simplicity. I was enriched by it. How many of you were blessed? I could listen to Pastor Paxton all day. My God, he was so good. At this time, I will invite Pastor Abraham Winder to make an announcement. Following which, he will assist me in presenting this child back to the Lord."

Abraham took his time climbing up the carpeted steps in his black, ankle-length cassock, trying to appear as reverential as his fellow clergymen. He prayed to God this silly thing he'd been forced to wear, didn't trip him, and send him down on his face. Part of him longed for that life of solitude he had enjoyed before taking on the task of serving as Youth Minister in Charge. He would have been quite content to remain as Leroy's chauffer. Now he was a chauffeur with a never-ending portfolio. He offered Shaniece a smile as he took the microphone out of her hand. When he turned to face the congregation, he suddenly felt uneasy. Public speaking was not something he took pleasure in, but that didn't mean he was short on words.

"Greetings, church." His voice teetered a bit before it found its natural authority. "Beginning next week, on Friday, the mentoring classes will now be held in the newly-built gymnasium at 5 p.m. Our program is geared to teach young men how to live a life of integrity and accountability. We are pleased to anno–"

To everyone's surprise, Dominic jumped off the organ and hurried alongside the wall, heading toward the nearest exit. Shaniece immediately took mental note of his disrespect, and vowed to chastise him as soon as the benediction was done. Leroy, on the other hand, had figured out the identity of the prey. Dominic wasn't the type to lose his cool like that, and was not a neophyte in ecclesiastical matters, but one who displayed a fine example of Christian maturity. He would not have walked away from that organ if the circumstance had not been serious.

But Leroy was no fool. When it came down to matters concerning his congregation, any information was crucial information. One scandal could dismantle the strength of an organization. It'd happened to several of his contemporaries, all of whom were now contending with the demon of regret. He too, joined them in their misery, as he was pressed to think of his own secret indiscretions. He dabbed the beads of sweat that'd formed on his forehead, and then released a smile of displeasure. Shaniece wasn't the only one waiting to have a word with Dominic.

## Chapter Three

It was customary for the clergy to take their positions at the exits as the people came through the vestibule. It was Leroy's way of showing his affection to first-time visitors.

"Powerful sermon, Pastor! I sure did enjoy myself up in there this morning."

"Yes, thank you my dear mother," Leroy beamed, clutching the hands of one of his long-standing members.

Abraham took his position opposite Leroy, still attired in his black cassock. He would rather wear a suit and tie, but Leroy's demands were decisive; no room for debate. His way or the highway was mutually understood by all members of the clergy. Their qualifications didn't matter to Leroy. He was simply satisfied with them showing up every Sunday to make him look good in the eyes of the people. Abraham pitied Leroy. A man who lived his life by such means would not have many friends.

"Excuse me, Pastor Winder, did you see where Dominic disappeared to?" Shaniece gently rubbed his arm, which was an annoying habit that Abraham hated.

"He took one of the back exits. Check the convention halls."

Leroy turned toward Abraham's response. "What's going on with him?"

Abraham shrugged. "I am empty of reasons, as you are, sir."

"He's trying to avoid us," Shaniece barked, as she gently squeezed the hand of a man in a wheelchair. "We should corner him and rebuke the color out of his skin. He hasn't any respect for the house of God. What has gotten into him, walking away from that organ in the middle of Pastor Winder's announcement?"

Abraham wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing Shaniece thrived on drama. However, he too wanted to know what was going on with Dominic. Two nights ago, he and Sanchez had played Chess at his place and both of them appeared to be in good spirits. What had transpired between then and now?

"I will handle this one, Shaniece," Leroy told her. "No need to bombard the boy."

"Don't you dare be soft on him," she pointed at Leroy. Her stilettos gave her enough height to meet Leroy eye to eye, which added to her commanding presence. "Stamp the fear of God back into him! These young people these days have no understanding of protocol."

Leroy waved her off. "Yes, thank you, Shaniece. I will have my chance with Dominic."

"I am not through," she said, pushing her body in front of Abraham in order to face Leroy. "There is something urgent I need to discuss with you."

"Now, Shaniece?" Leroy asked.

"Yes, right now." She pointed to a vacant spot in front of them. "Let's talk over there; away from everyone."

Leroy wanted to tell Shaniece to take a flying leap out of his face, but saying no to her was like screaming at a dead dog to get out of the street. "Abraham, prepare the SUV for First Lady Paxton," Leroy spat. "I will join you all shortly."

Abraham pulled the black Escalade under the stone bridge that connected the two main towers of the church. The asphalt ran through the middle, spreading out at the rear to a massive parking area. The congregation had several ways to exit to the facility. Through the rearview mirror, he noticed Michelle had chosen the exit farthest away from the main entrance.

Her body swayed with an air of daintiness, gracing the asphalt as if she were a famous catwalk model. She paused when she spotted Shaniece talking with Leroy, which concerned Abraham, because normally, whenever she saw them together, she would walk past without the slightest interference. The woman had class, but Abraham didn't know what to make of it when she glided past the Escalade.

He opened the door and jumped out. "Lady Paxton, are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm quite fine, my dear Abraham. Wait a minute. This will only take a minute." Her voice had an excellent timbre, one she could have used as a commentator in another life. Now, she was about to use it on Shaniece. "Leroy," she called out. "It's time to leave now. It's getting late."

"I'll be with you shortly, hon."

When she got close to him, she wrapped an arm around his waist. "Shaniece, do you mind? You've kept my husband long enough."

"Well, he is yours." Shaniece wanted to blast Michelle with a few choice words, but she smiled, reverently instead. "How can I contend with the woman of the house?"

"You can't. Just as long as you remember your place, our problems will remain manageable."

Shaniece had a tendency to smirk when a remark rubbed her the wrong way. She glared at Michelle with those big almond-shaped eyes. "I don't need to remember anything. You seem to be the one that needs reminding. In case you forgot, I am the assistant pastor of this church–"

"And I am Leroy's wife," Michelle spat, putting a lot of attitude in her body language. "I mean, just in case you forgot..."

"You don't want to exchange words with me, Michelle," Shaniece warned. "We've been down–"

"My husband calls me Michelle. For you, it's First Lady Paxton..."

Leroy hid his face in embarrassment. He knew if he didn't get his wife away from Shaniece immediately, he would be wedged in the middle of a nasty catfight and then he would have to do some explaining to the congregation. His wife was not an aggressive woman, but based on her aura today he was forced to rethink his assessment.

"Come on, hon, walk with me to the SUV." He held her, gently putting her in front of him. "This is not you."

"I don't care, Leroy. I've told you repeatedly how I feel about this situation."

"I understand; let's talk about it on our way home."

Several minutes into the commute on I-75 heading north, Leroy seized the opportunity to address the impertinence of his wife.

"What was that all about?"

"Do you need an explanation?"

"You have never done that, Michelle."

"I thought you would have been proud of me." Michelle looked at Leroy for the first since they'd gotten into the Escalade.

"You were rude."

"Excuse me?"

The edginess in Michelle's voice gave Abraham the perfect reason to crank up the radio.

"That's not necessary, Abraham" Leroy told him. "You're no stranger to us. Michelle knows she has the freedom to speak her mind." He fixed his eyes on her, showing her who was in charge. "Please, continue."

"Who do you think you're talking to, Leroy? You left your _boys_ at home."

"That's what I thought, but that silly stunt you pulled back there left me thinking you've lost your respect for me."

Michelle felt her entire body heating up at Leroy's response. "You're kidding me! You felt disrespected because I wanted the attention of my husband! Every Sunday, rain or sunshine, that woman is up in your face. She won't leave the premises until she pulls you into a corner. And you have the audacity to call me rude? How rude and disrespectful that must look to the people? You and her. Every Sunday! How long you expect me to stand by and allow that woman to do what she wants to do?"

"That's not the issue. I told you never to approach me when I'm meeting with my clergy!"

"Now Leroy, you stop with that nonsense! I am your wife. I deserve the attention!"

When Leroy leaned forward and snatched his black-rimmed bifocals from his face, Abraham knew the argument was about to hit the roof. He was tempted to pull the SUV to the side of the road and jump out while he had the chance.

"Must you be thwarted from protocol? It is your duty to obey me!"

"What?" Michelle's jaws dropped open. "Okay. You're upset, but why are you speaking to me like I'm one of your parishioners?"

Leroy continued. "Do you see the wives of other ministers disrupt them the way you did this afternoon? I was mortified by your behavior. You embarrassed yourself in front of Shaniece."

"Embarrassed, Leroy? My God, it sickens me how you run on with that woman!" Michelle finally lost her tolerance. "If anything, I should feel embarrassed by the way you let her talk to me – throwing her position as your assistant in my face. Do you know how much that hurts –hearing her say that? And now you're defending her? I will not stand for this, Leroy!"

"And I will not stand for your lack of respect and outright disobedience!"

"Abraham, please take the next exit to Bruce B. Downs and let me out at my mother's house."

Leroy snickered; annoyed by his wife's attempt to end the fight when clearly he was just getting started. "Abraham, you will do no such thing. Take me and Lady Paxton directly to our home."

"For you to finish insulting me? Abraham, don't you dare listen to him!"

Abraham looked in the rearview mirror at her, unsure of what to do. "Lady Paxton..."

"Now, Abraham! I don't want to be near this man for another minute!"

Leroy's voice became stronger. "Do as I say, Abraham. My wife and I will continue this conversation at our home."

"I am not going home with you."

"Of course you are."

"Leroy, you will not get your way this afternoon. I'll jump out of this vehicle if I have to."

Leroy laughed in disbelief. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then, don't push your luck."

For the sake of staying on Leroy's good side, Abraham intentionally drove past the exit to Bruce B. Downs, but he was soon to regret it when he saw Michelle lean away from Leroy and push open the door. She thrust out her right leg so that it dangled about a foot above the road. The sound of a thousand tires suddenly exploded around them. Motorists gave into their anger, and honked their horns violently as they zipped by. Some even offered them a few gestures of profanity.

On reflex, Leroy grabbed Michelle and wrestled her against the seat. "What in God's name has come over you? You could have gotten yourself killed."

Abraham pulled the SUV off the Interstate and onto the shoulder. He regulated his breathing and then turned to face Michelle. "Lady Paxton, don't give me a heart attack at such an early age. I will take the next exit to your mother's house."

## Chapter Four

"Can I have your thoughts?"

Dominic glanced up and was relieved to see it was only a waitress, but when she started getting up into his business, he was tempted to bash her feelings.

"You look a good mess, honey," she drawled. She was known for striking up conversations with strangers, acting as if she'd been friends with them for years. "Let it go. Right here. Right now. She ain't worth it."

"My thoughts have nothing to do with a woman–"

"OMG! You're gay!"

"What?"

She looked at him from head to toe. "You don't look like you have a gay bone in ya, but who knows these things? Let me see your hands—"

"No, I am not gay," Dominic spat, pushing her hands out of his face. "Men are depressed over a lot of other things. Not just over a woman."

She pumped her fist in the air as if she'd been nominated for the Nobel Prize. "With a body like yours, it'll be a crying shame to waste it. Keep it that way, honey. 'Cause ain't much of y'all left. Now let me fix you that coconut martini—"

"I didn't ask for a coconut martini..."

"I've been doin' this all my life, hon. If you want that stuff off your mind, you need to take it stronger. I know suicide when I see it."

"I see we're playing the guessing game. First it's a woman, now it's suicide?" Dominic rolled his eyes as if he'd gone beyond his tolerance level. He'd come here to mope; not to be entertained. "Besides, I don't drink."

"Get out of here! What the hell are ya? A nun?"

"A nun?" Dominic threw his head back and chuckled. He'd never been called a nun in his life. "Don't you mean a monk? But, no. I'm a Christian."

"As in Christian Jesus?"

Dominic chuckled again. "No, as in Jesus Christ. His followers are called Christians."

"Well, even Jesus drank wine, honey," she said, snapping her fingers as if the revelation had suddenly struck her. "Get with the program. A little wine for the tummy ache, remember?"

"I don't have a tummy ache."

"You have one now," she grinned, as she sashayed away in a blouse that was two sizes too small.

What is up with that ditzy chick? Dominic smirked inwardly. If she knew what was good for her, she had better not put a coconut martini on my table. They shouldn't be selling alcohol on a Sunday anyway.

He'd silenced the ringer on his BlackBerry Torch, knowing the members at Mount Moriah had targeted him as the most wanted man in Hillsborough. It wouldn't surprise him if Shaniece had slapped an APB onto his good name. He'd felt her eyes scolding him as he disappeared through the church exit. He could imagine what went through her mind at that moment – how dare he jump off that organ in the middle of Pastor Winder's announcement?

_Crazy woman_ , Dominic thought.

In his assessment, she was one fuse short from being an idiot, but who was he to judge Bishop's Paxton dumb decision to install her as the one next in line?

The red light flashing on his phone indicated he had a text. He was so addicted to text messaging that it took serious willpower to ignore the urge to respond. Truth be known, he'd purposely kept his phone in front of him to screen the fakers from the ones who genuinely had his back. And as he rummaged through the list of missed calls and text messages, with most of them coming from Abraham, Dominic decided that Abraham was the biggest faker of them all.

He couldn't put into words how Abraham's lies had devastated him, which was a huge factor in the way he was acting. He thanked God for blessing his generation with such brilliant technology. With the wonderful features of Caller ID and the IGNORE button, he could control his level of nuisance.

The only texts he was interested in responding to were the ones from Sanchez.

Where you at? It's three o'clock. Man, you comin' or what? Negro, answer your phone! Forget it, man. I'll catch the next horse smokin' out. Loser!

Dominic cracked a smile at Sanchez's ability to be funny, even while he was ticked off. They'd agreed to go to the gym today, but it was the last place Dominic wished to hang out right now. But he couldn't see himself disappointing his boy. The dude was a comedian and worked on his nerves sometimes, but Dominic had a lot of respect for his authenticity. What you saw, was what you got. He still had an hour to kill. Florida Avenue was not too far from where he sat. He texted his boy back:

Running late. Hold it down 'til I come.

"Here you go, hon." The waitress rested a straw and a glass of ginger ale in front of him. "I can't believe you chose a ginger ale over a martini," she said, shaking her head as if Dominic's choice was the saddest thing she'd ever experienced. "Talk to me, hon. I have twenty minutes in overtime."

"You don't give up, do you?" Dominic stood up, pulling out his wallet. "I'm sorry, but something's come up. How much is it?"

"For a soda?" She waved him off; obviously disappointed their conversation had to be cut. "Don't worry about it. It's on me."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I can count out two dollars from my piggy bank."

"Appreciate it! Maybe next time..."

Within minutes, Dominic was grabbing his sport bag out of the back seat of his car. He tossed it over his shoulder, and made his way into the only gym that was opened on a Sunday. Sanchez spotted him immediately.

"Look who's decided to show up." Sanchez's Nike tank top looked as if it'd gotten soaked in the rain. "You need to get your head checked, Negro. My last words to you was, don't forget gym today. How simple was that?"

"I'm here, right. All the other stuff doesn't matter."

"And you wanna have a hard mouth about it," Sanchez quipped. "You lucky I'm busting my legs over there on that machine–"

"How many sets you got in already?"

"Enough. Look at me. I'm a wet mess."

"Man, I thought you said no legs 'til Wednesday," Dominic laughed, as he got into a stretching position. "My calves are still a bit sore."

"After four days? Man, what kinda calves you standing on? I don't think any female would be complainin' after four days. We missed a couple of days last week. Remember? We wasted Friday hanging out at Abraham's crib."

"Man, sometimes my calves are sore for the whole week," Dominic said, not liking how early Abraham's name came up in their conversation. How could he avoid hearing it anyway? As far as Sanchez was concerned, everything with Abraham was still on the up and up. Dominic hadn't told a soul about the scene he'd stumbled into Friday night. "It depends on how hard we work them. But whatever, I'm down with it."

"You better be down with it!" Sanchez warned. "You messin' with my momentum right about now; showin' up late and stuff."

"I could turn around and walk back out," Dominic mumbled. He jumped up and tailed Sanchez to the squat machine.

Sanchez paused in stride. "What's that, big man?"

"Nothing, man. Just continue walking."

The last time they were in the gym, they were squatting some three hundred pounds; three sets a piece. Their muscles had adjusted and Sanchez felt it was time to increase the pressure. Since he'd started before Dominic, he let him do a warm-up set before he added another two forty-five-pound metal plates to the machine.

"What's goin' on with you?" Sanchez asked finally, as he positioned his back against the leather-covered board.

"Good question. Only time will tell."

"Only time will tell? What kinda craziness is that?"

"I'm cool, man."

"Don't lie to your boy, Dom," Sanchez said, pointing his finger at him. "I don't know what you trippin' over, but you need to get it together. This ain't like you to be skippin' band practice, showin' up late, and jumpin' off the organ like you got crap comin' out of your pants."

"I'm not tripping over anything," Dominic smiled, as he tightened his glove straps. "Besides my exam, some stuff came up over the weekend and I had to deal with that. How'd you know I missed band practice anyway?"

"I didn't know. I made that one up." Sanchez finished up his set and moved on the side for Dominic to get on the machine. He could tell from Dominic's expression that Dominic didn't believe him. "I know that look, man. I didn't know. I pulled that one right out of the hat."

"Boy, you need to get delivered from that lying tongue."

Sanchez grinned. "I need deliverance from a lot of stuff. But I don't do the lyin' thing. Not my style. And since we're on the topic of deliverance..."

"C'mon man, ease up on that," Dominic said. "Let's get through these sets without having church for once."

"But you brought up the subject!"

"And I'm killing it."

Sanchez scratched his head, a bit thrown off by Dominic's attitude. "Yup. I was right. You trippin'. If this convo was about Tayah, you'd want me to indulge in your silly fantasies."

Dominic stood up straight. "Now why'd you have to say something stupid like that?"

"I'm just makin' a point, bruh. Don't bring this funky attitude here and expect me to suck it up." Sanchez picked up his towel and wiped his face. "And I'm not gonna beg you like some female to tell me what's eatin' you. So for next thirty minutes of this workout, the Tayah subject is off limits. It's crazy the way you go on 'bout a woman who's got a rock on her finger."

"That's because she doesn't belong with that joker."

"So now you wanna lose the funky attitude." Sanchez shook his head. "Man, you're unbelievable!"

Dominic held his response, because anything else he said at that point would be defensive. He hated to be told how to control his emotions. His philosophy was, until whoever walked in his shoes, no one should take it upon themselves to judge his actions. Usually, he was the disciplinarian in their friendship, so being the one on the opposite side of the fence, took a lot to admit that Sanchez was right.

"I guess you tee'd off, now," Sanchez said.

"Nope."

"Yes you are."

"I just hate to acknowledge you're right."

Sanchez grinned. "No one has all the answers, buddy. Not even a perfect Negro like you."

"I'm not perfect."

"You sure act like it. Well, most of the times." Sanchez held up his hand. "Don't respond to that. Just get on the machine and do your set."

At a minute to six in the evening, Dominic swung his car through the entrance of Foxfire apartments on 30th Street. He unlocked the car doors so that Sanchez could get out. And as badly as he wanted to bring up the Tayah subject, he couldn't risk getting another rebuke. Besides, his spirit was heavy with something else anyway, and all he wanted to do was to go home, take a shower, and spend the rest of the night moping.

He turned and looked at Sanchez "You're on your own tonight, bruh. No church for me tonight."

"What? You're takin' a break from Jesus? I thought I'd never hear you say the 'N' word."

Dominic chuckled. "I can't pull that tonight, man. I'm drop dead tired. That's why I don't like working out on Sundays."

"And I thought it was me who needed to be delivered from lies," Sanchez grinned. "Somethin's up, boy and you ain't sayin'."

"I'm tired, bruh!"

"No sir! Don't give me that crap."

"What do you want me to say? Aw'ight, maybe I don't want to face Shaniece..."

Sanchez kept that grin stitched to his face. "Now there's a valid reason. I would be layin' low too if I'd messed up the way you did this morning. She's a real lioness, but that female's got a slammin' body!"

"Listen, cool off with that stuff..."

"For real, man." Sanchez opened his hands wide. "With that ba-dunk-a-dunk attached to her back, she'd send a brutha trippin' right out his mind."

"C'mon guy," Dominic frowned. "She's the assistant pastor. Show her a little respect."

"Respect? If she's hot, she's hot!" Sanchez laughed, knowing how 'sanctimonious' Dominic became when he kidded around in this manner. "Nothin' wrong with admiring..."

"No, no. You don't admire. You salivate, which is pretty much in line with lusting. Do you even know what your name means?"

"Sexy."

"No. It means sanctified. And you need to start living up to it, man"

"Well, I've always been upfront with you," Sanchez said. "I don't hide the fact that I have a challenge with lusting."

"You sure don't," Dominic quipped. "You shouldn't be witnessing to anyone in your sad state. But seriously, you should watch that, though. Remember what Abraha–"

"Yeah, go ahead, what did Abraham say? You don't miss a day without quoting him!"

Sanchez may have believed he'd interrupted him, but the truth was that Dominic couldn't say Abraham's name without feeling sick to his stomach. If he'd had a second opportunity to retrace his steps that night, he would have listened to Sanchez's suggestion and driven the heck home to his apartment. Now he had to face a fact he was not prepared to acknowledge. Abraham didn't explain to him how he was to handle a disappointment of this magnitude. Not to mention a heart that had become polluted by distrust and suspicion.

"He said lust is the mother of all sins," Dominic murmured, as he gazed into the pith of his darkened soul. "Once she gets a hold of you, your destiny is in jeopardy."

## Chapter Five

By the time that Abraham got home and unzipped his black cassock, the sun had begun to set. He knew Leroy looked good in the cassocks, but they were not for a man like him, as he stood less than five feet nine inches tall. The robe made him look like a stubby little monk. He was incredibly conscious of his appearance, and how people perceived him was very important. He had learned a long time ago that clothing was a form of stigmatization: It revealed secrets about a person's individuality. So he gave special attention to what he wore. He understood that psychology was a powerful tool, and if used right it could produce the desired results.

Again, he placed the phone to his ear, aggravated by his failed attempts to reach Dominic. He was tempted to believe Shaniece was right: Dominic was doing his best to avoid them. Whatever the reason, Abraham thought; it should have not reduced his behavior to disrespect. Considering the fact that he had given him five years of strong mentorship, he owed him at least, a shred of courtesy.

That last thought made him cringe. His reasoning sounded like Leroy, who always demanded respect from everyone, even when it was inappropriate. And although he really wanted to know the reason why Dominic had left the organ in the middle of his announcement, he prayed he was simply acting out of concern and not as Leroy's protégé. He simply left a message on Dominic's voicemail.

It was approaching seven thirty in the evening, and as far as Abraham knew, there wasn't anything else on his agenda for the church. He could finally put up his feet and relax, maybe put on a movie to help clear his head. He was still reeling from the afternoon's drama between Leroy and First Lady Paxton. They'd fought before; many times in front of him, but today was different. Anyone willing to jump out of a moving vehicle going eighty miles an hour had reached his or her cutoff point. A crazy way to end a life, but it was also a way of sending a strong message. It was going to take more than roses and chocolate to reconcile the growing rift between them.

Abraham had taken Leroy to his mansion in River Springs, of course, without his wife. Apart from being drawn into the Paxton's intimate lives, he had the uncanny ability to predict the next move of a circumstance. Some called him a seer, some, a modern day prophet, but for a long while, he had rejected the titles, simply because he wanted to avoid being bunched into people's deranged opinions.

He was just an ordinary man with a purpose. For four years, he'd warned Leroy about the direction of his leadership. He'd warned him about spending too much time at the church, and with Shaniece. The church would survive, and Shaniece would suck it up, but a neglected wife and kids may not. Abraham knew at some point Leroy would come face to face with his demons.

"I hope you don't mind; the door was open..." a woman's voice stated.

Abraham immediately sat up erect on the sofa and looked at the clock. It was now ten past ten at night.

_I must have fallen asleep for a few hours_ , he thought, as his mind swam to full consciousness. Meanwhile, the woman shook out a Virginia slim, lit it, and then brought two fingers to her mouth. She trembled violently.

Abraham ran his eyes over her from head to toe, hiding his disgust. He couldn't believe he'd married this woman, when all she did was took his money and hurt his feelings. But he loved her dearly. Her prominent nose and chin, (which were of Scandinavian standards) and her outspoken personality were the first to get his attention.

"Sooner or later, I knew that you would come back," he finally told her. "You know I will take care of you."

"Yeah, right – let's get this over with."

Abraham stood up in response, calling her by her stage name. "Honey, why do you keep yourself looking so untidy?"

Honey sidestepped the question by swinging her armpits up to her nostrils. "I could use a bath. That cheap jerk left his cheap cologne all over me." She let out a ring of smoke in Abraham's face. "What's it to you anyway? All of what we do is dirty."

"Let's stick to what we agreed to, and that includes you taking a bath. I will get you a towel and a change of clothing."

Honey observed how Abraham wrinkled his nose at her. "You don't like me smoking in here, do you?"

"No. I've told you that repeatedly. How did you pick up such a nasty habit?"

"Men, darlin'. Too many of them; too many demands." Honey looked around nervously, even though she had been there many times before. She just couldn't see herself living with Abraham twenty-four-seven, even though she was married to him. She'd warned Abraham that taking her to the Justice of the Peace would not cause her to be faithful to him, but he'd insisted they go through with it. It was going to take more than a marriage certificate to erase what she had become. "Where you want to do this?"

"You're always in a rush. Be patient." Abraham took the cigarette away from her and mashed it in an ashtray. "You know how I operate."

"Should I leave my clothes in here?"

"Please, use the bathroom this time. It's easier to discard them in the hamper."

"So you can wash them like you did with the last ones?"

Abraham did not respond. Honey knew that he would do anything for her. Washing her clothes was simply a byproduct of his love. He was her husband for God's sake.

Honey grinned, revealing a row of coffee-stained teeth. "You do this type of stuff all the time?"

"What stuff?"

"Invite strangers into your home and wash their clothes..."

"Stop the nonsense, Honey. You are not a stranger. You are my wife. I married you to help you, but you won't let me take care of you, and you won't move in as I'd pleaded with you. Things need to change."

"Well..." Honey wrung her hands, uncertain of how to respond to Abraham's generosity. "You are too needy. Always wanting something and it gives me the creeps. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"No."

"Then I'm sorry for you, because you've been lied to." She showed those coffee-stained teeth again, as she made her way toward the bathroom. She paused briefly and let out a throaty cough. "Oh, I almost forgot – some kid stopped by the last time I was here."

Abraham's heart ran to the bottom of his feet. "And you're just now telling me this? What kid?"

"Oh hell, Abraham, I don't know. He didn't leave a name."

"What did he want?"

"He ran off before I could ask him," she chuckled, this time, waking up a chain of dry hacking coughs. She cupped her breasts and then shook them as she'd done that Friday night. "I guess these babies frightened the color out of his face."

Instinctively, Abraham walked over to the window and yanked the curtains closed. "I've told you to lock the door behind you whenever you come in."

"My, my, my, aren't we in a little bit of trouble. Haven't you told them the truth about us, Abraham? You naughty little boy. I guess my moving in now is out of the question."

"We're married," Abraham spat.

"Yeah? What fool would believe you married a prostitute?"

Abraham had an instant mood change, allowing his imagination to get the best of him. He must have been in the shower during the time of the visit. It could have been any one of the young men who came to his place for counseling. But all of them were on a schedule to avoid them clashing with his personal life. In spite of wanting to dismiss the worst-case scenario, everything inside of him told him the kid was Dominic Housten – his beloved protégé. That would explain his recent behavior – the avoidance and the unexplained disaffection. He would have to tell Dominic the truth. As his mentor, he owed him that much.

## Chapter Six

Sanchez Jamal Adrian Thompson. That was his full name, and the one his mother gave him when she'd had him at sixteen. A well-trained girl who'd grown up in a Christian home, but had ended up running with the wrong crowd, she met and fell head over heels in love with a thug twice her age. He got her pregnant and then disappeared. A year after she'd given birth to Sanchez, she had his sister, A'moree, fathered by a different thug who'd shown great potential as a father, but had been gunned down before his daughter was born. Unfortunately, both Sanchez and his sister never knew what it felt like to be raised by the men who'd planted their seeds in their mother.

Sanchez described himself as a young man who made things happen and did not wait to see where the chips might fall. Growing up on the island of New Providence, a.k.a, Nassau, was not a picnic. He had his struggles, especially growing up in an area where violence and crime ruled. Even the Bahamian police were terrified of coming through his corner. If his mother hadn't moved to another neighborhood, and hadn't changed his school, he was convinced he would have either been in jail, or six feet under the earth. But he worked hard, excelled in his education, and received a partial scholarship to study in the USA.

He'd recently finished his B.A. in engineering and was currently in the market looking for a job. His part-time job as a telemarketer helped him pay the rent, but it wasn't enough to handle everything else. If it weren't for his sister helping him out every month, he would have been pulling the hairs out of his head by now. He didn't plan on going home to the Bahamas any time soon, but planned on working for a while in order to get some experience, and if things went the way he wanted, he might get married and raise his family in Tampa. It was not that he didn't love his home in the Bahamas, but in the United States, opportunities were much easier to come by.

His sister, A'moree, was coming in from Bahamas the next day to spend the rest of the week with him and he was excited about it. He hadn't seen any of his family in two years and he couldn't wait to catch up on old times. Her arrival reminded him, his truck was down, and he hadn't any means to pick up A'moree from the airport except to ask Dominic. He reached for his cell phone and texted:

Dom, I need a favor. My sister is comin in from Nassau tomorrow morning. She'll need a ride from the airport. Let a brutha know if you down with that.

9:22a.m.

The sweet scent of cinnamon subtly found its way up the wooden stairs of her mother's two-bedroom suburban cottage and brushed beneath Michelle's nose – awakening those desires she'd stanchly suppressed for two years. Her eyes popped open, and she was suddenly surrounded with a sense of unfamiliarity. The flying swans in the tattered wallpaper and the jarring paint of the room's décor, however, immediately reminded her of her decision to abandon the warm mattress that belonged to her and Leroy. She sat up at the sound of her mother's humming voice.

"Child, you stubborn like your father. I want you to know God don't like ugly." Delores pushed a tray of cinnamon biscuits, bacon, and eggs in front of her daughter. "Take my advice; go home to that man and patch things up before that woman show you how it's done."

Michelle refused the tray of food. "That's unhealthy."

"I don't have the energy to fix something else." Her mother dropped the tray on a dresser.

"Most times I skip breakfast. What time is it anyway?"

"I don't know, child. I don't keep up." She sank down into the rocking chair that was next to the bed. "You know how it is around here. Work, work, work."

The sparkle in Michelle's mother's eyes had long since faded, leaving behind a mist of nostalgia. The years of hard work she'd endured from taking care of a husband and four children had finally taken its toll. And for a while, her father's sudden death had left her mother in a state of despondency. Delores had always told her children that their father had been a good man.

"But, I've told you repeatedly, you don't have to stay here by yourself," Michelle said to her mother. "We have enough room in our home to give you your privacy."

Delores waved her off. "I'm seventy-one, Michelle. I'm on my way out of this world."

"All the reason for you to be near your family."

"No, child. I'm gonna die right here where I've lived the last forty years."

Michelle grew silent. She didn't like when her mother brought up the subject of dying.

"Don't look so grim," her mother said. "You don't expect me to hang around here forever. That's why you should make everyday count. Leroy is a good man and you had better start treating him as such."

"You would say that; you always liked him."

"That man has taken care of you and those children from the day he took you out of our home."

"Mother, I have never doubted Leroy's ability to provide for his family. He handles his responsibilities quite well."

"Then what's the problem, child?"

"Everything is a problem these days." Michelle looked into her mother's eyes, now creased in crow's feet. She held back from her mother some of what really bothered her. "What do you think I should do?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. Do what is right for those boys."

"Easier said than done." Michelle became uptight all of a sudden. "You should have heard how he defended that woman to me. He practically bit off my head for her. I think he's lying to me, mother – you know, about the affair."

"I'll tell you the truth, I don't blame the man," Delores deadpanned and then pointed at Michelle. "You're a fool for letting him get away with it."

Michelle raised her eyebrows, shocked by her mother's candidness. "I'm confused. Which side are you on?"

"Your father, crazy as he was, warned you about those Paxton men, but you still went ahead and married one of them. So deal with the blows as they come. These days you can't afford to trifle."

"Mother, I am not going home until Leroy calls and apologizes to me! He owes me that much. He spoke to me as if I meant nothing to–"

"Room for the devil, my dear child, room for the devil! I would have called you a moron, but you're my daughter."

"Mother! Your words are mind-boggling."

"Good. That outta knock some sense into you. Call those boys and let them know what's happening."

"I'm sure Leroy told them where I am." Michelle was not sure that was true. She looked to her mother again for confirmation.

"Don't look at me!" Delores said.

"Okay, mother, I'll call!"

## Chapter Seven

"Boy, you better recognize who's in charge!" That voice belonged distinctively to nineteen-year-old Eric Paxton, who was celebrating an early shot in a fierce one-on-one basketball game against his younger brother.

"It's like taking candy from a baby," he teased Sean, knowing how much his brother despised it. He was in triple threat position –feet apart, slightly staggering. "Come, take me; let me see what you've got."

"You're a dimwit, you know that? Your big mouth gonna mess up your game," Sean said.

Playing defense, Sean gave his undivided attention to every maneuver. He was two years younger than Eric, but he towered over him by a much heavily debated one inch, which he believed gave him bragging rights as a reputable contender.

Eric tried to fake a drive to the hoop but Sean showed a level of prudence and did not fall for it. It tickled Eric to see how determined his little brother was to beat him. It was just 8:30 in the morning, but beads of sweat had already begun to appear on the top of their clean-shaven heads – younger versions of their father.

"You think you ready for me, boy?" Eric knew his teasing would get Sean off-balance more than anything else, so he took it up another notch. "This is a man's game. Let me teach you something about being a professional..."

"Do what you gonna do. You talking smack won't move me."

"Doesn't matter; I'll school you on how it's done."

Angling his position, this time Eric employed a convincing fake shot and, as he had anticipated, Sean leaped off the ground and into the air. Seizing the opportunity, Eric skillfully did a one-eighty around him, first to the left and then to the right, allowing the ball to spring from his hands. It connected with the backboard Leroy had installed for them when they were kids. It took a decisive spin on the rim before tipping into the basket.

Eric pumped his fist in the air. "Now that's how it's done, my boy! You had better recognize!"

Sean released one of those Paxton's toothy grins. "You stole that from me!"

"Boy, you crazy. Get a life!" Eric took a break to answer his cell that had been incessantly buzzing in his pocket.

"Speak your mind, beautiful." He knew it was their mother by the number on his Caller ID.

"My handsome boy." Michelle still could not get used to that baritone in Eric's voice. "You're still home? What time do classes start?"

"You didn't call to check up on me, did you? How's New York?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Dad said you had to fly to New York."

Michelle was dumbstruck. Leroy had lied to the boys. "Where is your father?"

"I don't know. He's not here." Eric tossed the ball to Sean, who proceeded to do some lay-ups. "What's going on with you two?"

Michelle felt comfortable sharing almost anything with her children. They had a better relationship with her than with Leroy. It was his fault anyway, she decided. He never stayed home. But one thing she didn't practice was being untruthful. "Eric, I am not in New York. I am staying here at your grandmother's."

Eric looked away. He should have known their father had deceived them. It was his _modus operandi_.

"Eric, are you still there?"

"Yes, beautiful, I'm still here. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know. Maybe another day or so." Michelle felt crushed at her own words. "Can you handle that? I need time to clear my head."

"We don't need a supervisor."

"I know – I just need to make sure."

"I love you too, beautiful, do what you gatta' do."

Michelle smiled. Her sons were all grown up; they didn't need her anymore. Her daughter, Tayah, who was married and had a life of her own, was the total opposite.

"I will call you guys tomorrow," she said.

"You don't have to."

"I know, but I want to."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Okay, look like I lost this one."

Michelle laughed. "Bye, honey. Tell Sean that I love him."

"Are you for real?"

"You are crazy, you know that? Bye, honey." She cut the connection.

Eric waited a bit and then punched in some numbers on his cell. His classes at University of South Florida were officially cancelled. The voice on the other end appeared to have been expecting the call. She answered in a rather crisp tone, considering how early it was in the morning.

"The coast is clear. You wanna come over?" Eric was always the one to make the calls. "Make it quick, and bring someone with you."

He ended the call and then yelled at Sean. "Make that your last shot. We have company coming over."

## Chapter Eight

Tayah Paxton-Benjamin had always aspired to be the best that she could be. She saw the big picture of her life, and was determined to achieve her goals despite any obstacles she might encounter. Now at twenty-five, by secular standards she was an accomplished business guru. By spiritual assessment, she was a pillar of strength to the youth, not only at her father's church, but also to young people who crossed her path. She believed in fortifying them with the skills required to survive in a world that had a reputation of being cruel. With God's help, she stuck with them until she was satisfied with their progress. Their destinies were important to her.

Although her work with the youth brought her immense joy and fulfillment, it could not take away the fact that she wanted to have a baby. Even before she'd gotten married, she had spent her time imagining what it would be like to have a child – how he or she would look – or, whose personality the baby would inherit. The women in her family were fertility machines. It seemed whenever they tried, they were successful at getting pregnant. Her grandmothers, both paternal and maternal, had had four children. Her mother had three; even two of her younger cousins had at least one.

It was hard to go home and listen to a husband who blamed her for their childlessness. He made her feel useless and embarrassed to be a woman. In her moments of quietude, his words stung more than when she argued with him. It gave her time to reflect on what he'd said, which caused her to walk around with a sense of emptiness. Three years of marriage had not yielded the happiness she had anticipated.

"Did you get the opportunity to read the change of events in the memo? I know you just got in."

Tayah peered up from her Asus notebook and noticed Ian Laing sticking his head into the boardroom. He was in charge of all the event coordinators of the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival.

"About the MLK Leadership Breakfast?" Tayah wanted to confirm. "I was about to wrap up the details on it."

"It has been postponed. Our keynote speaker was involved in a serious accident on I-275."

Tayah closed her notebook, her eyes staring in disbelief. She'd jokingly told the committee that things were going too smoothly for something not to happen. "How bad is it?"

"Not sure of the details. She was taken to the hospital in critical condition."

"That's sad." Tayah released a sigh. "I guess you're gonna need me to hit the communication channels. How long is it postponed? You realize a good bit of our out-of-town guests are already here."

"Shouldn't be more than three days." Ian smiled at how overly concerned Tayah seemed. "Don't worry. We have a great line-up of other speakers who are quite as knowledgeable about our theme. The challenge for us is getting one of them to fit the schedule. The other events should make a good cover. I'm sure our guests wouldn't miss an hour or two from the celebrations. It lasts for ten whole days!"

"I should have kept my big mouth shut."

"Stuff happens, Tayah. No need to take the blame for it."

"I'll send her some flowers on behalf of the committee."

"Yes, please do. Thank you!"

_Stuff happens_. Ian's words resonated with her for the moment. _But why did stuff happen_? Tayah thought. To be more precise, why did things like this happen to her? Why did she have to be the only female in her family who could not get pregnant? _Stuff happens_. Ian sounded like her mother, who was quick to tell Tayah that stuff happened for a reason – that it was God's sovereign plan that controlled and influenced the outcome of a situation.

He was the One who intricately weaved the plots of human existence. The immensity of the concept only drew Tayah to questions that were more painful. Sometimes it got to the point where she found it difficult to accept. She, of course, loved God and believed in what He stood for, but the methodology of His ways baffled her at times. Why had He subjected her to such a reproach? Why had He restrained her from the joys of motherhood? Irony had no respect of person. She had dedicated her life to encouraging others, but now that she was faced with a dilemma of her own, she found herself needing encouragement.

She picked up her phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

"What are your plans? Can we meet for lunch so we can talk?"

"Actually, I'm happy you called. I have something I need to share with you. Just tell me where and I'll be there."

"Good. There's a Chinese restaurant over on Fowler Avenue, just before Nebraska."

"I know where it is. Half an hour is fine?"

"Half an hour it is."

## Chapter Nine

In Tayah's book, the Panda Express was the best tasting Chinese food in the bay area. She smiled to herself. Her father would argue differently, however. He was not impressed by a long shot. The building itself was austere and would not appeal to those who judged a book by its cover. It was practically a word-of-mouth kind of thing. She ordered two sodas as soon as she sat down, then decided to order some food as well. Her watch told her she was five minutes early, but it didn't matter anyway because her lunch date was making his way in.

She stood up to greet him. "Thanks for coming Dominic, you are a true friend."

Dominic smiled in response before taking a seat opposite her. In his heart, she was more than a friend to him. She had married Phillip, but she was still the love of his life. It was a pity that he would never get the opportunity to express it. He unbuttoned his jacket, staring into eyes that would never be his.

"Tayah, when have I ever let you down?"

"Give me a minute and I'll think of something," she quipped.

"Don't wreck your brain in the process. I know my stats pretty well."

She laughed, taking in his appearance. She had always loved his style of fashion – preppy, cool, and outgoing. "How have you been, Dominic?"

"I have seen better days." He took a sip of soda. "I missed you in church yesterday. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen you since the last youth forum."

"Three words: Black Heritage Festival. Volunteer work is gruesome work. Thank goodness I got today off from my 'real' job. But I like it. I learn a lot about the music and the arts of our black people."

Dominic cocked a grin at her. "You and the arts? Come on, Tayah, you've been holding out on me."

She threw a rolled up napkin at him. "I would have you to know that I am multidimensional. I am not just the pastor's daughter, you know. There's a lot to me you haven't seen."

"Tayah, you are a workaholic. Admit it. I'm actually amazed by how you find time to do all that you do. How does Phillip feel about all this?" Dominic noticed the gradual change in Tayah's expression. "Whoa, what did I say?"

"I came here to talk about him, but I don't feel like I want to anymore."

Dominic was relieved to hear that. "Then, talk about you. How has Tayah been? We haven't had a real talk since you got married on me."

Her eyes found his. They were so attentive – if only Phillip was that attentive, she thought. "I feel like I can tell you anything."

"You can tell me anything. We didn't click for nothing." He looked at her, frowning playfully. "Explain to me again why we didn't get married?"

She blushed. "Some things never change about you."

"I'm not the changing type, girl. What you see is what you get."

She shifted gears a bit. "Do you pray for me, Dominic?"

The waiter brought a huge serving of Singapore noodles and placed it between them. "I ordered before you came."

"Thank you. To answer your question – I do, at every opportunity." Dominic sensed Tayah's sudden reticence. "Don't feel obligated to spill your beans. It's cool if you don't wanna talk about Phillip."

"You read me so well."

Dominic smiled. "How funny. I only seem to work the gift of discernment when I'm with you."

"Would you stop?" she chuckled. They grew silent for a bit, but she kept her eyes on him. "Do you still wish to share something with me?"

He chewed his food slowly, then said, "Yes and I know I can trust you with it."

"It sounds serious."

"I think it is. It's about Abraham."

"Really? Is he okay?" Tayah asked.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Dominic's weakness was not gossip, but what he had witnessed had greatly troubled him. He had to tell someone about it – to help him deal with the battle that was going on in his mind. Tayah was the right person. The only person. "I think Abraham is stepping out on the scene."

Tayah furrowed her jet black brows. "I hate it when you do that. Speak English, please."

"Abraham is sleeping with prostitutes," Dominic deadpanned.

Tayah stopped chewing. "Pastor Abraham? The Youth Minister?"

"Imagine when I saw one of them in his place. It threw my world in reverse. I thought I walked up in the wrong crib."

Tayah found herself getting angry with Dominic. "I don't believe it. Who else have you told this to?"

"C'mon on girl, you know me better than that. I walked off the organ yesterday."

"You did what?" Tayah stared at Dominic to see if there was a hint of fallacy in his words. "You are serious, aren't you?"

"Dead serious. Right when Abraham was making his big announcement about the mentorship program. I couldn't stand to hear him talk about purity and accountability when he wasn't living any of it. I couldn't even sleep that night... after I found about his mess." Dominic looked away to gather his thoughts. "Last Friday, my boy, Sanchez and I were at Abraham's place, chilling for 'lil bit. We left, but I ended up leaving my Accounting notes there, which I needed for my mock exam the following morning. So I turned the car around and drove back to Abraham's place. The door was unlocked and I went in, as I usually did. That's when I saw her."

"Who?" Tayah was thinking about how her father would react to such news. Abraham was his right-hand man.

"The prostitute – she was, um..."

"She was what?"

"She was naked. Butt naked, smoking a cigarette."

"And where was Abraham?"

"I don't know. I think she told me he was in the shower or something..."

"How did you know she was a prostitute?" Tayah was still not convinced.

"You would have assumed the same thing if you had seen her."

Tayah disagreed. "But how could you be so sure she was with Abraham?"

"C'mon on, Tayah. What other explanation is there?"

"Maybe there is, Dominic. You shouldn't be too quick to judge a circumstance at face value. I do believe Abraham is a sincere man of God."

"Tayah, I'm not judging. I'm struggling to keep a pure mind. I have no reason to hurt the man." Dominic took another sip of the soda, looking directly into Tayah's brown eyes. As it was with her younger brothers, she strikingly resembled Leroy. Her thick, flowing hair softened her features. "I'm really having a hard time coming to terms with this."

"Have you confronted Abraham about it?"

"No, I bolted for the door before I saw him."

Tayah was not sure how to feel about this. "You know, none of us is perfect. We all have some stuff inside of us we don't want the world to see. So don't nail him to the cross if this turns out to be the way it looks."

Dominic grew silent on that, appreciating Tayah's perspective on the situation. She always saw the good in everyone. That alone won big points with him. Unfortunately, however, Tayah had warned him a little too late. He had condemned Abraham the minute he saw that naked woman parading around in Abraham's living room. His next plan of action was to remove his name from Abraham's mentoring program. "Believe me, Tayah, I'm praying that I'm wrong."

## Chapter Ten

Mount Moriah Baptist Church

"I don't see any cause for alarm. The scans look good..."

Leroy switched the receiver to his other ear, frowning as if he wasn't too sure he should take his neurosurgeon's words as good news. Lately, he'd been having severe off and on migraines and just for precautionary measures, he wanted to make sure the bullet that'd struck him in his head five years ago, hadn't anything to do with it. Last week, his neurosurgeon took a few x-rays and told him he would call when the results were in.

"If the scans are clear, then why am I still having these migraines?" Leroy asked.

"Could be an unrelated reason. How are your stress levels?"

"Well, I have resumed my duties here at the church," Leroy said. "If that's what you mean?"

"Anything else?"

Leroy paused. There were several things sending his brain into overdrive, but how did he explain to his neurosurgeon that his stress was related to poor decisions he'd made in his past?

"Mr. Paxton," Leroy heard him say, "I've been involved in some of the most devastating neurological cases, and have seen the brain's amazing ability to create new brain cells and stronger electrical connections to heal itself. But I've also witnessed patients not being able to adjust after traumatic experiences, which can be equally devastating."

"Doc, in my line of work, I find it a bit of a challenge to mitigate my stress levels," Leroy said. "What do you suggest I do?"

"You must take in consideration your 'new' normal," he said. "It's been five years since you've survived a catastrophic injury. Mortality from a gunshot wound to the head is as high as ninety percent. And if I may say so, I am extremely pleased with your recovery. The brain has incredible plasticity. But with the same token, I expect you to live a healthy lifestyle, as stress-free as possible. Try to delegate the taxing areas of your life, take time to rest, and eat properly. I will fax this prescription to you for your headaches."

"Thank you, doc, I will try to take your advice."

An hour later

When it came to his attire, Leroy Paxton was the ultimate debonair man. He reclined in his spacious, oak-paneled office, wearing a pinstripe black Armani suit with a silk crimson-stained tie, perfectly snug between the stiff flaps of his white shirt. His 24k gold cufflinks shimmered as he moved his wrist back and forth while signing documents from the Tampa City Council

Leroy Paxton's talents did not end in the pulpit. Preaching to his flock was one aspect of his role as pastor, taking care of church business was another. Poor management of the church's finance, vision, and a lack of ecclesiastical discipline could bring a ministry to utter ruins. Had he not answered the call to lead God's people he could have become one of the greatest secular moguls of his generation. Truth was, any way it was spun, he was quickly becoming one.

"Yes, Brenda," Leroy responded to his secretary of fifteen years via their state-of-the-art intercom system.

"It's 2:00," Brenda said. "Are you able to keep your appointment with the multimedia department?"

"Give me several minutes." Out of habit, he looked at his Rolex, admiring its beauty for a fleeting second.

"Yes sir, I will relay the information."

"Brenda?" Leroy prompted.

"Sir?"

"How is the rest of my day fitted?"

She pulled up Leroy's schedule on her computer. "You're booked up until 7:00 tonight, sir."

"Perfect! Call the boys and let them know I'll be late. Michelle's flight has been delayed." Leroy cringed at how corny the lie seemed. "And Brenda?"

"Sir?"

"Did you get in contact with Dominic yet?"

"I tried, but he's not answering his phone."

"Leave it then, I'll see him at the youth forum this week."

Leroy had had so much practice fabricating lies that he rarely felt culpable. To him, being in his position it was almost a necessity. He pushed back from his desk and walked over to his full-length mirror. He stood in front of it, admiring his form and beauty. He examined his face. It would have been flawless if it weren't for the minor indentation above his left eyebrow. He rubbed his finger alongside it.

He now brutally understood that behind every scar there was a story – a story that had taken him through the gates of hell. Every now and then, he got nightmares about the incident that could have been the end of him. But it must have been God's pity that preserved his life. He may be alive, but he was still terrified that he had only survived to reap the consequences of his sin. His neurosurgeon was right; he had to take it easy.

"You are as vain as you were the first day I met you." Shaniece had been watching him for a bit.

Leroy almost jumped out of his skin when he heard her voice. The office was so spacious, he had not been aware that she'd walked in – unannounced.

"How did you get past Mrs. Wesson?" he asked her. "You know that woman can't stand you."

Shaniece took in Leroy from head to toe, sidestepping his question. "I can understand why you are so enamored with yourself. The years have not taken away your vitality."

"Shaniece, we've had this conversation. Please don't go there." He sat back down, busying himself.

"Don't pretend, Leroy. You are happy to see me."

"I am never happy to see you, Shaniece. You are a serious problem to my family. Heaven knows, I regret the day that you walked into my life."

Shaniece laughed, positioning her body behind Leroy. She bent to his ear. "And by your family, you mean your wife? I must commend her on such a stellar performance yesterday. "

Leroy flinched, annoyed by Shaniece's blatant attitude. "If I wasn't a man of God, I would have cussed you out."

"As a man of God, you've have already done more than that," she reminded him. "Profanity just won't suit you."

"Please move away from me. I'm certain you left the door unlocked."

"What's it been? Four, five years?" She rubbed her fingers alongside the back of his neck. "And you're still as terrified as a fish caught in the net."

Leroy swatted her hands away. "What do you expect? Every waking moment you're reminding me about what I did."

"You should relax, Leroy, before you have a stroke." She edged his desk with her buttocks. "If your nosey wife hadn't interrupted us on Sunday, we wouldn't be having this conversation today. But being the impatient woman of God that I am, I'll just get right to the point. We need more money."

Leroy's blood pressure almost shot through the roof. "We?" He pushed himself up from his desk, away from her. "I've given you people enough!"

"I'm the one who will decide that."

"I'm calling the police – something I should have done years ago..."

Shaniece smiled, displaying an incredible amount of placidity. "Put the phone down, Leroy; it will serve you no purpose. Both you and I know that the sins of your past will attract greater attention. You wouldn't only have the police breathing down on your back, but you'll have this entire county to answer to – a juicy scandal for the media. I can see it now."

"Your name will be plastered all over the _Tampa Tribune_. And that crazy woman you married, she'll leave you in a heartbeat when she finds out. How will your children see their father after they discover that you're no saint? They will see that you're just like every sin-riddled pervert. They'll hate you for bringing embarrassment to the family. You see, the list of casualties can go on and on. You don't have a choice; the cards are stacked high against you. What did Psalms 125 say? _The rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous; except the righteous put_ –"

"Must you further the disgusting cause of your father, the devil?" Leroy asked.

Shaniece folded her arms, and enjoyed the pleasure of watching Leroy fall to pieces in front of her eyes. She felt privileged, because she was almost certain that no one else ever saw this side of Leroy – as a weak pathetic fool who was begging mercy from a woman who was not his wife.

Leroy sat back down and hid his face in his hands. "How much?" he said quietly. "How much do you people need to leave me the hell alone?"

"My dear boy, we are not going anywhere anytime soon," she chuckled. "We've hit the jackpot."

"You are a disgrace. How can you live with yourself?"

"I can say the same about you, Pastor Leroy Paxton..."

****

When Brenda noticed the number on the caller ID, she picked up the phone immediately, and then turned away from her computer.

"A pleasant good afternoon. This is Mount Moriah Bap–"

"This is me, Brenda. Why do you go on with all that knowing where the call is from?"

" _Michelle_?" Brenda whispered.

"You sound surprised."

"Err – just a bit off my rockers," Brenda laughed. "Your husband should be happy to know your flight made it in earlier than he had expected."

Michelle held the phone away from her and wondered if her hearing had deceived her. "My flight?"

"Yes, he mentioned that it had been delayed. Where were you coming from, dear?"

"Brenda, transfer me to Leroy please."

"I could, but he's in a meeting..." Brenda looked around furtively, lowering her voice. "...with, you know who."

"Shaniece?"

"I couldn't stop her from going into Pastor's office. She practically shoved me back into my chair. You know how I feel about her."

All of a sudden, Michelle felt hot from head to toe, but was far from experiencing a fever. She kept her voice calm, cool, and collected. "Brenda, let's make this one a surprise. I'll be at home waiting for him."

## Chapter Eleven

At precisely seven thirty, Abraham quietly rolled the Escalade onto the Paxton's driveway. Leroy jumped out and then shuffled around to the driver's side with his briefcase in one hand and his coat in the other.

"Remember what we discussed." Leroy looked Abraham dead in the eye. "I love my wife and we don't need questions raised about our marriage."

"Sir, with all due respect, you know I'm not comfortable with dishonesty."

"It's not dishonesty, Abraham. It's called necessity. We are disgusting creatures at the heart." Leroy thought about Shaniece when he said that. "Think about your own frailty. If you have indulged in your weakness and have fought to disclose it, then you are a hypocrite to judge me for my actions."

Abraham did not openly endorse Leroy's words, but Leroy discerned they had sunken in.

"I am not perfect, Abraham," Leroy continued. "The story of David and Bathsheba sadly reminds me of those same internal demons that I wrestle with every day of my life. Like David, courage and fear walks side by side within me, knowing the horrendous mistakes that I've made could have devastating effects on my family and the people I've been appointed to lead. I'm not prepared to face the consequences."

"Do you remember what David's son said?" Abraham asked Leroy.

"I take it that you will quote it regardless of my objection."

"I have committed many of his words to memory," Abraham said, inwardly smiling at the clever remark. Leroy hated to be admonished from those he felt were inferior to him. "Solomon was a very wise man–"

"Who also had his weaknesses to contend with," Leroy finished. "It just shows the greatest among us is not without faults."

"I agree. But Solomon recognizes an important principle I find to be the hardest thing for humans to execute. That is being accountable. He says, 'He that covers his sins shall not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them shall have mercy'."

Leroy cracked a half smile. "Accountable? To men or to God? These days, one cannot afford to divulge one's private affairs to anyone but God. There are too many wolves in sheep clothing. Let me wrestle with my internal demons. At the end of the day, my resolve would remain intact."

"I will revisit this conversation another time," Abraham smirked, amazed at how Leroy reasoned his way out of that scripture.

"I take pleasure in entertaining you," Leroy smiled. "Take the SUV home and be here for me tomorrow morning before seven."

"Yes, sir." Abraham watched Leroy disappear through the mansion's majestic doors.

Their Staffordshire bull terrier greeted Leroy in the foyer. That unnerved him. The dog rarely paid any attention to him, except when Michelle was around. Frankly, he could not stand the dog and only tolerated it because of its fearless temperament. In a sense, it provided additional security. He left his briefcase on the marble terrazzo floor as he furtively inspected the area. The only noise that disturbed the silence came from the soles of his Stacy Adams shoes.

"Eric? Sean?" he called, but he received no answer.

The foyer opened up to the grand stairway – the focal point of eight thousand square feet of living space. He took the elevator to the second floor and felt relieved that maybe he was alone. He could unwind and use the time to flush Shaniece out of his system, if only for a couple of hours. However, the feelings were short-lived. He swung through the double doors of his bedroom and realized he wasn't alone. The room reeked of Michelle's powdery-scented perfume. Her favorite – Chanel No.5.

"There are six things the Lord hates, seven, actually, that are detestable to Him." The placidity of Michelle's voice surprised even her. She kept her back turned toward Leroy, tightening the belt around her waist. "Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and a heart that devises wicked schemes. I don't think that I need to continue. I can construct my premise from any one of those three."

Leroy was a pro at taking charge of his emotions. How dare his wife scold him from the word of God? First, he was scolded by Abraham and now her. "I see you've come to your senses, or did your mother push you out of her house? You know, Delores has always been on my side."

"It is a disgrace the way that you lie so easily." Michelle sidestepped Leroy's first attempt to shove her over the edge. "If I was in New York, where were you?"

"One day, you will understand that I will do anything to protect this marriage."

"Even to the point of telling lies to our sons? And to our parishioners?"

He moved toward her. "Of course, if that what it takes. I can't say that you desire the same – especially after that thoughtless stunt you pulled yesterday. You could have killed yourself."

She spun around to face him. "Maybe I would be better off dead anyway."

"Dead? You give up too easily. No wife of mine will kill herself by jumping out of a moving vehicle."

"Leroy, you're so full of it. This marriage doesn't mean a thing to you. The only thing you are concerned about is how your perfect image will be affected."

"Where are you going dressed up like that?"

"You don't tell me about your plans. Why should I tell you about mine?"

Leroy finally gave into his annoyance. "Enough with the games, Michelle. I don't have the patience for it."

"Oh, so you think I'm playing games?"

He threw his coat on the bed and began to undo his crimson-colored necktie. "I'm a busy man with an important agenda. All day I sit in meetings, and I'm on the phone with governors and city workers and you're standing there with–"

"Leroy, are you having an affair with Shaniece?"

Without another word, he sat on the bed and yanked off his shoes.

"I asked you a question, Leroy."

"My hearing is finely tuned. I heard you the first time." He stood up and moved to the other side of the room, noticeably upset. "If I tell you, no, you won't believe me anyway. So how do I reason with you?"

"That woman is always in your office! What you expect me to believe?" Michelle felt her eyes becoming moist at the ungodly image of what could be happening between her husband and that Jezebel incarnate. "Don't tell me she's sitting up in your face taking notes all day. You hired Brenda for that."

"At the present, she serves as the assistant pastor. Obviously, I will meet with her frequently."

"Tell Brenda to send her an email."

"Some things cannot be discussed in an email."

Michelle didn't think she could have gotten any angrier. "My God, Leroy! What is it with this woman? If you're not having an affair with her, what is she holding over your head that you can't get rid of her? You demoted me and put her in my place..."

"Now you stop running on with that nonsense. From the time we inherited that church from my father, you refused to take the position."

"But Leroy, I didn't expect you to put a stranger, more so a woman, in charge of our inheritance. That was such a stupid move..."

Leroy agreed with his wife, but he wouldn't dare tell her the reason why. "She is what that church needs right now. Look at her track record. The membership has double since–"

"Nothing you say could explain this foolishness to me. Besides, I am more than qualified to handle her portfolio. Did you check out my track record?"

Leroy gave his wife one of those scolding looks. "My decision is final, Michelle. Don't bring this issue up again..."

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She wasn't getting anywhere with her husband. She grabbed her shawl from the closet, and then rushed around him toward the stairs.

"Where are you going at this hour?" he questioned, following her.

"None of your business." Michelle's heels sent clacking echoes through the foyer. "I knew this was a mistake, coming back here."

"It's late, Michelle. I sent Abraham home with the SUV."

"My ride should be here any minute."

"Who's coming for you?"

"What were you and Shaniece chit-chatting about in your office today? Don't deny it. I called."

Leroy found it difficult now to match Michelle's asperity. "Church matters. It's nothing important."

"Lies! Don't waste your time waiting up for me." She exited through the doors at the sound of a sedan coupe pulling several yards down from the driveway.

The commotion drew Sean to his bedroom window. He saw his mother climb into a car he did not recognize. He closed the blinds, and then crawled back into bed with a female who was five years older than he was. He wrapped his manly arms around her, bringing her closer to him.

"Do your folks always fight like that?" she asked.

"Who cares? They'll probably get a divorce soon, anyway."

"Yeah, my folks got divorced when I was nine years old. I know the signs."

"What signs?"

"The bickering never stops; it only gets worse. Next, they start seeing other people, or maybe that's the reason why they are fighting."

Sean laughed. "Girl, you crazy. My parents are Christians. They would never sleep around with other people."

"Then where did you learn to do what you do?" she teased. "If you're a Christian, you shouldn't be sleeping around."

"Shush it, girl! My folks think I'm out with Eric. Besides, I never told you I was one."

"How old are you again?"

"Old enough."

The minute Abraham exited off I-75, his phone chirped in the passenger seat. He glanced at the caller ID and wondered, _What does Leroy want now_?

"Sir?"

"Have you ever noticed any black Jaguars in the parking lot of the church?"

Abraham narrowed his eyes. He was not certain what Leroy wanted to know. "Yes, there are several of them."

"XK-Series, huge tires."

"I can't say that I am sure. It's an enormous parking lot."

"Where are you now?"

"I just pulled to a traffic light on Bush Blvd." Abraham detected a measure of anxiety in Leroy's voice. "Sir, is everything all right?"

"Michelle climbed into a car I'm not familiar with."

Things started to make sense to Abraham. "Have you tried reaching the ladies from her church group?"

"Come on, Abraham, that's not a wise suggestion."

"Give me an hour. I will look into it, sir." Abraham knew it was expected of him.

"Call me at once." Leroy brutally cut the connection.

Within less than half an hour, Abraham called Leroy and told him Mrs. Wesson had picked up Michelle in her husband's car. The deduction had been easy – apart from her mother, Leroy's secretary was the only other person Michelle trusted with her business.

## Chapter Twelve

The Cotton Club off North Howard Avenue appealed to the black clientele of Tampa. It was a hot spot for thirty-and forty-somethings, eager to crack a move on the dance floor. On Friday nights, the DJ took them back to Luther Vandross, Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, and Al Green, deftly switching from old school to hip-hop to dancehall. The floor was elbow-to-elbow – in harmony with the music that vibrated through every bone in their bodies. Although the atmosphere was relaxed, it was not a place for jeans and T-shirts. The advertisements made certain its patrons came well attired. Most considered it a nice crowd. No fights. No disrespecting. No disturbances.

Phillip Benjamin parked his blue Impala and then jumped out with his female friend, Dee, his secret dancing partner. From head to toe, he was attired in solid black. His favorite black silk shirt, neatly tucked into his favorite black-striped slacks, black shoes, black everything – a clean-cut fellow who even allowed his barber to arch his eyebrows as part of his grooming regime. He smelled like a fragrance store. Cars – every make and model lined the streets – paled in comparison to the people Phillip saw lined up at the door. Montel Jordan's " _This is how we do it_ ," whipped the atmosphere into a night of anticipation.

Tonight was all about him and that dance floor. He was so good that he'd always left people cheering for more. He'd planned on opening his own studio in Ybor City a few years back, but his wife firmly rejected the idea, calling his moves vulgar and unholy and that it was not fitting for a new convert in Christ. Every time he brought up the idea, they fought about it. Her words were killing his passion and for him, dancing was who he was, not some business guru struggling to maintain funding for his inventions. So yeah, he sneaked around and searched for the best dance floors; to keep his moves polished, just until he found a way to get the studio up and rolling.

Squeezing Dee's hand, Phillip tried to block out the voices in his head that accompanied him each time he came to the Cotton Club. As a budding deacon of Mount Moriah and husband to the Bishop's daughter, he knew he didn't belong there. Yet, it was all he wanted to do. Being married did not stop his life of partying, as some people said it would. And the way things were going between him and Tayah, he welcomed the freedom of being out of the house – away from her nitpicking mouth.

"What's wrong? You look nervous or somethin'," Dee said.

"Nah, I'm cool. Just taking in the scene." It was a line he always told Dee whenever she questioned his reticence. Her name was really Deanna, but everyone called her Dee. "Tonight feels different."

"How? It's the same old crowd," she said. Her smile became mischievous all of a sudden. "Maybe it's conviction, deacon boy."

"Ha ha ha, very funny. I've come to terms with that crap."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I only go to church to keep Tayah's mouth shut."

"For how long?"

"For however long it lasts."

Dee rolled her eyes. "That girl is stupid to be putting up with your nonsense."

Phillip nudged her playfully. "Hey, watch your mouth. Tayah is not stupid."

"I call it like I see it," Dee smirked. "That poor girl doesn't know what she's gotten herself into."

When they stepped into the building, they were immediately swallowed up by the music. They found a table near the dance floor and then ordered the same cocktail they ordered every week – Chocolate Soldiers. The first half hour had been dedicated to the King of Pop. The entertainer of all times, the DJ announced, the revolutionist, the late Michael Jackson. The screams from the crowd told Phillip that they were ecstatic about the DJ's choice. Phillip smiled as he remembered winning several talent shows as a little boy while cutting steps to Michael Jackson's, ' _Don't Stop Til You Get Enough', 'Billie Jean_ ', and his all-time favorite, ' _Thriller_ '.

"The floor is really crazy tonight," Phillip observed, tapping his feet to the funky acoustics.

"Yeah – this is my first drink, but I'm feeling a buzz already." Dee pushed the drink aside and then raised her hands in the air. "Boy, I don't know 'bout you, but I'm 'bout to hit the floor in these heels."

Dee may have been petite in body but was huge in personality. Two years ago, she'd met Phillip while cutting steps at The Castle, another dance club over on 16th Street. She was so impressed with his dance moves that she followed him out of the club that night and challenged him to compete against her in the parking lot. He readily complied, and they'd been dancing partners ever since.

"I hear you, girl. I'm ready, if you're ready."

With her hands still moving around in the air, she smiled devilishly. "What a pity you have to sneak around to enjoy the thing you love most," she said. "I hear the music is good at Mount Moriah."

"It is, but it's not the same."

"Philly, my friend, I will never understand why you married into that family. You know you're no church boy."

Phillip laughed. "I told you I wasn't. But there are other benefits to being part of that family."

"It's crazy – the things you do for money."

"Who said it had anything to do with money?" Phillip took one last sip of his cocktail and then pulled his partner onto the dance floor with him.

By the time Phillip got home, it was close to two in the morning. He took off his shoes and tiptoed across the wooden floor, praying Tayah wasn't in the vicinity. He wasn't in an explaining mood. His wife loved the way words felt coming out of her mouth. Most times, it seemed to be running on autopilot. She never knew when to shut it up. He had to smile though, when he thought about how much fun he and Dee had at the Cotton Club. Three hours of endless enjoyment. He never had that much fun in church. The musicians at Mount Moriah were tight – well respected to say the least, but it was simply not his flavor. Dee was right. It was a pity he had to sneak around to enjoy what he loved most. He removed his wet clothes and left them in a heap on the washroom floor.

He showered and then crawled into the bed next to his wife. And as part of his daily obligation, he coldly placed an arm around her, hoping she would let him sleep off his tired behind. But when she politely removed his arm and tossed it behind her as if it were a piece of trash, he knew he was in for a two-hour-long drama.

"Hi baby, I thought you were asleep."

"Where have you been all this time?" She kept her back turned toward him.

"Come on, baby, don't make a fuss about nothing." He faked a huge yawn. "Busy night at the office."

"You must think I'm the village idiot, Phillip." She got up and then clicked on the lamp. "What could you possibly be working on at this hour in the morning? You don't work for anyone but yourself. Not even a phone call to say that you're running late–"

"I did call..."

"Lies, Phillip, lies!" She stood up, moving away from him. "I was pacing the floor, worried sick out of my mind. You could have dropped off the bridge and I would be the last to know. Last week was the same thing, the week before that was something else. Man up and tell me what the heck is going on. I don't care if you're cheating on me. At least I'd know what I'm up against!"

"Wow," Phillip commented. "That's a mouthful. Where do you want me to start? I mean, we've had this conversation before–"

"Really? You always steer the conversation somewhere else–"

"It's not always."

"Yes, it is ALWAYS! I seriously believe you take this marriage for a joke."

Phillip sighed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. He knew his wife was just getting started. "What does that suppose to mean?"

"Don't play crazy. You know what I mean! You go when you wanna go and come when you wanna come."

"What do you want from me, Tayah? You're impossible to please!"

"This is not about you, Phillip." Tayah's voice cracked, but she fought to hold back the tears. "This is about me and how I've been feeling in this relationship. Why did you marry me if you don't know how to treat a wife?"

"Don't give me that why you married me crap. From the day we got together, I was always upfront with you." It wasn't entirely true, but it was close enough, he thought. "You knew my intentions."

"Then prove it to me, Phillip. Where were you tonight?"

_Dancing my stress away at the Cotton Club_. "Why do I have to prove anything to you? My words are my words." He stared her in the eyes. "If you can't believe me, then you're the one who has a problem. Not me."

"Somehow you always manage to make me out to be the weak one. Nothing is ever wrong with you..."

"You're twisting my words."

"What if it was me coming home at two in the morning? Honestly, how would you react?"

"If you told me you had to work late; or that you had caught a flat or something, I would believe you."

"Seriously? That wouldn't concern you?"

"No, because I trust you completely."

"But trust is not really the issue here, Phillip. I asked if you would be concerned?"

"You're confusing me. I wouldn't be paranoid, if that's what you're asking."

"You must not love me, then? Is that what you're telling me?"

"I did not say that, Tayah. Why are you trying to put words in my mouth?"

Tayah finally allowed her eyes to pool with tears. "Does this have anything to do with us wanting to have a baby? Is this the reason why you're treating me like this?"

A blast of air shot through Phillip's nose, revealing his displeasure. "Why did you bring that up?"

"Because I'm trying to understand why you're distancing yourself from me."

He didn't respond.

"Honey..."

"Yes, Tayah..."

"Look at me please."

"Why?" he asked.

"I need to see your eyes when I ask you this question."

"I don't know what you expect to see..."

"Just look at me, please."

"Yes, my dear, Tayah." Phillip couldn't help but notice how beautiful his wife looked with her thick, mane draped across her shoulders.

"Do you love me?" she asked

"Yes, of course I do."

"Then, tell me the truth. Do you hold me responsible for not being able to give you a baby?"

"You ask all of the hard questions, don't you?"

"Then, it's true. It shouldn't have been a hard question for you to answer."

"Why do you take my words and apply your own meaning to them?"

"What do you want me to think, Phillip? You practically told me all I needed to hear."

"Well, you keep thinking and hearing the way you do, and you will end up a confused and a lonely old woman, with no one to blame but yourself."

The terseness of her husband's words kept Tayah's tears flowing. "You just don't know when to stop. You're a monster."

"My God, woman, you're gonna make me crazy. What is wrong with you this morning? Let me sleep, for Christ's sake!"

He turned away from her and buried his face in a pillow. When he did not console her as she'd expected, she grabbed a blanket and marched across the hall, into their spare bedroom. There, she cried her eyes out. She awoke several hours later only to discover her husband had already left, which was quickly becoming his new MO.

## Chapter Thirteen

Tampa International Airport – 9:47a.m.

Sanchez and his sister looked nothing alike. It was the first thing Dominic noticed when A'moree came through the automatic doors wearing a pair of jeans so tight; it appeared as if she'd painted them on. Her off the shoulder blouse revealed a smooth, pecan complexion that complimented her baby-looking features.

"How old is your sister?" Dominic inquired, as he and Sanchez walked toward A'moree.

Sanchez grinned wickedly. "Why? You're interested?"

"Man, just answer the question."

"No need to get indignant," Sanchez said. "She's over eighteen if that's what you're worried about."

He hurried off to greet his sister, leaving Dominic with a smirk on his face. Dominic spent the next minute observing A'moree from head to toe. She wore her hair natural, like Lauryn Hill back in the day when she sang with the Fugees. Although she stood head to head with Sanchez, her presence didn't seem overbearing as she held onto him, admiring his muscular form. If Dominic had been a different person, at a different time, he would have taken her out and would have gotten to know her a little better.

"Boy, Sanchez, you look good," A'moree said over and over again, feeling his arms and chest. "If mummy see you right now she wouldn't believe how big you got."

"I have to represent my peeps."' Sanchez grinned and placed an arm around Dominic. "These American boys over here don't have to work as hard as we island boys. They've got it made."

A'moree studied Dominic and loved the way he looked immediately. Loving his complexion, that was a shade above hers and his neatly trimmed beard that accentuated his manly jawline. "You work out too?" she asked him.

"Never get the chance," Dominic said with a straight face. "Your brother hogs the machines."

A'moree smiled, showing Dominic a beautiful set of teeth. "That's Sanchez. A hog!"

"Now wait!" Sanchez protested, pointing his finger at A'moree. "You don't even know this Negro's name and you're already on his side."

"I know a good thing when I see it," A'moree quipped. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as if she were savoring a pair of juicy steaks. "He's gorgeous."

"And plus you're hittin' on him at the same time." Sanchez playfully spanked his sister. "Girl, you're too fresh and forward! You need the Lord to lay hands on you."

Dominic shook his head, trying to downplay A'moree's compliment. "You guys are crazy. Let's get out of here before my car gets towed off the ramp."

They were on I-275 heading north toward the Fowler Avenue exit. A'moree had practically told Dominic half of her life story in twenty minutes, as she did when she was in the company of someone she found enticing. Sanchez had told her that she would be pleased when she saw Dominic, but her brother had been very modest in his description. The brutha was so fine; she could hardly keep her thoughts together.

"So you really can sing?" Dominic had asked her for the third time, looking in his rearview mirror at her smiling face.

"I can more than sing. I can blow," she said. "I'm a backup singer for one of the most popular bands in Nassau. Let Sanchez tell you. I've won a lot of national awards for my voice."

"Ask her who she sounds like," Sanchez said, looking as if he would explode in laughter any minute.

"Should I listen to your brother? You know, he's a fool."

"Yeah. Ask me who I sound like," A'moree prompted.

Dominic looked at her again through the rearview mirror. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because my brother is so stupid."

"I hope I don't regret this," Dominic said. "But I'll go along. Who do you sound like?"

"Take a guess." A'moree opened her mouth and what supposed to be a nicely blended version of Whitney Houston's _I Will Always Love You_ came out, sounding shrill, like tires screeching. It was so off key that Dominic's expression went from relaxed to 'what-the-hell-was-that' in two seconds.

"Oh my word," he cried. "That was awful."

Literally, tears fell out of Sanchez's eyes as his rambunctious laughter filled the car.

"You should have known," A'moree told Dominic in between her laughing. "Sanchez is my brother. Together we shouldn't be trusted."

Dominic believed that with all of his heart. If the rest of the days were going to be like this, he'd better stay on his guard whenever he was around her and Sanchez.

"So what do you feel like eating?' he asked A'moree.

She winked at him in the rearview mirror. "Wherever you take me, gorgeous. I'm not hard to please."

Across Town

"Thank you for understanding," Michelle said, as she stood at the door with her shawl draped over her arm.

"Fact is, I don't understand. You won't learn your lesson 'til it's too late."

"Don't lecture me this morning, mother. You did that all last night."

Delores shook her head disapprovingly. "I pray for you, child. You're stubborn."

"I'm not stubborn. I'm hurting. You and everyone else expect too much out of me."

"Remember, you chose this life. So don't complain when things aren't going the way you want."

"I know, mother. Sometimes, I just need you see things my way. Instead, you browbeat me about my decisions every time we get together."

"I refuse to sit on the sidelines and watch you destroy yourself." Delores' belief system was not easily shaken. "When you decide to stop playing Russian roulette with your marriage, I promise you, all of what I'm saying will make sense to you."

Michelle had heard enough. She planted a kiss on her mother's cheek, and then walked out to the black Jaguar that had whisked her away from Leroy last evening. She allowed her head to fall back against the headrest.

"Thanks, Brenda. I owe you another one."

"I would do anything for you. You know that."

Michelle touched her arm. "I pray it wasn't an issue with your husband. Did he question you about the car?"

A nervous laugh squeezed between Brenda's thin lips. "Not to worry. He'll take my car if I'm not back in time."

"I really hate involving you like this, Brenda, but I just don't know what to do anymore."

"It's not a problem. I love being able to help where I can."

Brenda was of Canadian ancestry. At fifty-eight, her once lush, golden hair had begun to turn grey at the sides. She'd worked hard to attach herself to Michelle to show her that she was not pleased with Shaniece being installed as Leroy's assistant. Half of the church considered it a wise move, but Brenda knew no good could come from it. For nearly five years, she'd watched Michelle's passion for ministry decline to hums of monotonous obligations – a far cry from who she really was.

"Do you think I'm being immature?" Michelle asked Brenda five minutes into the drive.

Brenda rolled the question around in her head before she responded. "As long as you've been dealing with this, I think you're handling it quite well. I don't know if I would have been as composed."

"That's what I love about you – your modesty."

"Seriously, Michelle." Brenda only called her by her first name when they were together outside of church. "I couldn't deal with another woman sharing the spotlight with my husband."

"I don't know how much more of it I can take. It's so embarrassing." Michelle looked at her watch. "Do you think he's still at home?"

"He's been coming into the office before eight," Brenda said. "Do you want me to check?"

"No, I'm hoping to run into him. I need to know if there is any point in saving this marriage."

"You're contemplating divorce?"

"Is that what you're suggesting, Brenda?"

"Yes, I mean, no. I said that, but I never meant for it to come off as a suggestion."

"Maybe you should have suggested it."

"I love you and I love Leroy. I will not interfere with your relationship at that level."

"You're not interfering," Michelle said. "I'm asking for your opinion."

"Darling, I don't know what it's like to be in your shoes..."

"You bet."

"I'm trying to say that you have so much to lose."

"What? My happiness for Leroy's public image?" Michelle looked at Brenda as if she were crazy. "I don't think so, Brenda. People are talking. I know I appear as a fool to everyone in that church."

"That's not fair, Michelle."

"What?"

"You are worried about your image as well."

"Oh please, it's not the same. I shouldn't have to explain that to you."

Brenda grew silent for a few minutes. Michelle was losing her will to fight. "Have you made up your mind to do anything?"

"Yes. I'm tired of the charades."

Brenda didn't know what that meant, and she didn't want to know. So she kept silent. Several miles later, she pulled the Jaguar up to the Paxton's mansion. She unlocked the car doors, but Michelle didn't make any attempt to get out. It appeared as if a sense of nostalgia had suddenly overwhelmed her.

"Things used to be so different before Leroy inherited the church from his father," she said, staring out the window at the place she'd called home the last fourteen years. She had almost forgotten how picturesque everything was – from the yellow daffodils that edged the walkways to the gigantic water fountain that centered the limestone-covered courtyard. The exterior of the home still maintained its white, stately looking appearance. She turned to face Brenda. "You think he was worried over the way I left last night?"

"You told me yourself he followed you to the door," Brenda said. "If that isn't concern I don't know what is."

Michelle cracked a half smile. "These days I can't tell if Leroy is really concerned about me or his desire to remain in favor with the people."

"Call me a hopeless romantic, but I think he's still madly in love with you."

"I'm so done with the delusions. Women my age simply don't have the patience for it." Michelle pushed open the door and grabbed the overnight bag from the floor that she'd borrowed from her mother. "I'm at a place in my life where I'm seeking emotional stability. I shouldn't have to be competing for my husband's attention this way." She sighed deeply. "But enough of my ramblings. God knows, between you and my mother, have heard more than your share."

"I really don't like seeing what this is doing to you two."

"It's all Leroy's fault; not mine." Michelle got out, eased the door shut, and then peered at Brenda through the window. "But thanks again for putting up with my silly requests. I don't know if it was worth it, but thanks nonetheless."

"I love you guys; there's nothing I wouldn't do for you two."

"Leroy made the right choice when he hired you as his secretary."

Brenda smiled at that, watching as Michelle walked away, taking a pebbled pathway that led to the pool house.

There, Leroy had joined the boys in a sweaty game of basketball. He hadn't played with them in months, but that didn't deter him from asserting his position as the unsurpassed champion. After all, he had been the boys' initial coach. The noise took Michelle by surprise. She crept alongside the wall and then watched them for a minute. It was as if she'd been taken back ten years – her three handsome men together again. But the feeling didn't last long when she thought about Leroy's unconcerned attitude toward her. How dare he act as if nothing was wrong between them? She didn't know what to expect when she came home, but she sure didn't expect him to be in such a good mood. _How heartless_ , Michelle thought angrily. She was hurt, to say the least.

"Hey beautiful, how long have you been standing there?" It was Eric. He chased the ball that had rolled near her feet.

Michelle always smiled easily when it came to her kids. "Looking like this, you still think I'm beautiful?"

Because of the intrusion of his father's voice, Eric didn't get the chance to respond.

"Throw the ball over here, son. Who's that you're talking to?"

"It's mom." Eric searched his mother's eyes and the only thing he saw in them was rejection. He nodded in the direction of the court. "Come, watch Sean and me put a hurting on the old man."

"You go ahead; I don't feel too well..."

"Hey babe," Leroy hailed, sweat pouring from his bald head like a running faucet. "What are you doing up so early?"

Michelle's eyes showed complete astonishment. She couldn't believe Leroy had told another boldfaced lie. He must be delusional, she thought. She swallowed her anger for the sake of the boys, who somehow seemed oblivious to their father's lies. She wondered if he had brainwashed them.

"Are you guys getting a divorce?" Eric asked suddenly.

I guess he hadn't brainwashed them, Michelle thought.

Leroy shot Eric a measuring look. "Where'd you get such a crazy idea?"

"Is it crazy, dad? C'mon, the way you guys have been acting lately..." Eric gritted his teeth, bothered by the thought of losing the life as they had come to love. "The signs are obvious."

"What signs?" Leroy spat. He couldn't believe Eric had the audacity to ask such an impertinent question. "Your mother and I are quite fine."

"Speak for yourself, Leroy. These boys are not blind. You want to stay in your fantasy world, then you go ahead, but I refuse to stand here and agree with you. All is not well in this marriage."

Leroy glared at his wife. "Do you think that was appropriate to say in front of them?"

"Oh for Christ's sake, Leroy, get off your high horse and admit we have a problem!"

"You want to fight in front of them, Michelle? Is that what you want?" He glanced back at Sean and Eric. "Because I have much to say about you and these immature pranks of yours! Why don't we start by telling us where you hopped off to last night?"

"Would you even care, Leroy? I walked in on you playing basketball with our sons!" The overnight bag dropped from her arm. "It didn't look like you were concerned about me, anyhow."

"Don't you dare shove that garbage in my throat," Leroy thundered. "If it wasn't for Abraham, I would have filed a missing person report."

"So you're keeping tabs on me now?"

Leroy threw his hands in the air. "What do you want from me, Michelle?"

"I want things to go back to the way they used to be. Get rid of that woman!"

"We've been through this a thousand times. I'm not getting rid of Shaniece."

Michelle spun around and noticed the boys had disappeared, but she was too deep into fussing with Leroy to chase after them. "You want me to get rid of her? 'Cause I can think of a number of ways to tell her to get the hell out of our church!"

"You're finished?" Leroy asked.

"No, I'm not finished!"

"Well, I'm done with it. I have a meeting for eleven in my office." Leroy stormed around his wife, and then burst through the French doors.

"Go, Leroy! Go to your stupid meeting!" Her eyes pooled with tears as she watched the doors swung closed in her face. "That's all you care about anyway!"

Leroy plunged into their classic, white BMW, taking his suit and all of his necessary grooming items with him. He would shower and get dressed in his office. If he'd stayed a minute longer in Michelle's face, he would have slaughtered her with the truth about Shaniece. The way he felt at that moment, he didn't care if he lost it all. Home, church, money, influence – he just wanted his life back to the way it had been before the _ordeal_. His wife didn't deserve the poor treatment. He'd promised her, literally sworn to her, that he would not break her heart. She had been seventeen and he was nineteen, and the conversation that had taken place thirty years before was just as fresh in his mind as it was then.

"I can't go out with you, Mr. Leroy Paxton," she'd told him. "Every other girl in this neighborhood thinks you belong to her. Now why is that?"

He looked her over; admiring the sleeveless mint green dress she wore an inch above her knees. "Yeah, I know. And I pity those poor girls."

"Pity?" She looked confused. "Why on earth would you pity them?"

"Because you're the one my heart flutters for."

She blushed. "Your daddy is a preacher. Where did you learn a line like that?"

"It's no line girl, it's the doggone truth." He sat next to her on the porch. "What are you afraid of? Go out with me."

"You Paxton men waste no time," she said warily. "We just met; I don't even know you."

"That's what you all say."

"Excuse me?"

"I won't hurt you, is what I mean." He stared at her, quite taken by her innocence. "I know that's what you're thinking about."

"It doesn't matter. My father wouldn't let me go out with a boy like you."

"A boy like me?" He acted as if the words pierced him deeply. "Well, what kind of boy does he think I am?"

"I heard you Paxton men are not easy to satisfy – that's what he told me."

Leroy threw himself back on the porch and laughed. "I'm nineteen, girl, I don't even know what life is about yet – well, in some regards."

"What does that mean?" She looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to tell her the truth about his intentions.

He held her hands. "Someday, I will make you my wife. I promise you..." He paused to study her reaction. "I'll put this down in writing if you want, girl..."

"You're crazy," she laughed nervously. His good looks made it difficult to be harsh with him.

"You haven't seen crazy yet," he told her. "You just wait til' I get you to fall in love with me."

****

By the time that Leroy pulled up to the church, he was on the verge of letting go of his tears. He had let Michelle down big time. What was he going to do to fix this problem? He knew the longer he waited, the harder it would be to convince Michelle that he'd kept the truth hidden from her for all the right reasons. How could he have been so stupid – to allow himself to enjoy such fleeting gratification? Now he faced a secret that could destroy everything around him, bringing nothing but utter shame and disgrace. Not only to his family, but also to the body of believers he preached to every Sunday morning. He would never be able to live it down, seeing the disappointment in their faces.

He was relieved when he passed Mrs. Wesson's desk and noticed she was not there yet. He slipped into his office and locked the door. Overwhelmed by his emotions, he dropped to the carpet and moaned to a God who had shown him mercy in the past. If only he had listened to his conscience, he would have avoided the torment – the sheer angst that derived from his ungodly actions.

## Chapter Fourteen

Coming to a crawling halt at LeRoy Collins Boulevard and Fowler Avenue, Abraham looked around to make certain he'd taken the route the detour signs had indicated he should follow. The back route he normally took on Fletcher Avenue was temporarily closed, due to roadwork in the area. The massive gold and black emblem that hung between the two-cement pillars confirmed that he was at the main entrance of the University of South Florida.

_LeRoy Collins_ , Abraham smiled to himself. He wondered if Pastor Leroy Paxton had been named after the famous street. He swung a hard left into the entrance and then navigated his way through the campus until he found the college of business. He parked the Escalade, got out, and waited. It was five minutes after one in the afternoon. Dominic should be making his way out of his Accounting class any minute.

While Abraham waited, he took in the charming campus – his eyes not escaping the huge Sundome, subtly towering in the background. The campus water tower was another famous attraction, which boldly flaunted the insignia of their baseball team. He then stared up at the tall pine trees lodged among the lush green shrubs, soaking in the warm spring sunlight. The scenes were magnificent – scenes visual artists would love for their canvases.

It reminded him of his hometown in Bermuda. _Yes, Bermuda_ , Abraham thought. Another life, a different period of his existence he cared not to revisit. He noticed the grounds suddenly got thick with students, milling about in groups, some chitchatting, others dashing to their cars. It appeared they were late for something. Abraham kept his eyes focused ahead, on the group coming toward him. He recognized Dominic right away – always the one to spot the preppy look. Abraham waved at him, noticing the hesitation of his stance. _He knows_ , Abraham thought...

"Hey buddy, I thought you dropped off the planet." Abraham's voice was lighthearted, offering his best mentoring smile, which wasn't being received too well at the moment. "Either that or your cell phone dropped in the toilet."

Dominic cracked a half smile, averting his eyes a bit from Abraham. "You know how it is. I'm studying for finals."

_He can't even look at me_. Abraham felt a pang of guilt toying with his heart. "The youth forum is tomorrow night. Let's discuss the topic over lunch."

"I can't leave. I have another session in twenty minutes."

"That's no problem. We can discuss it later at my place."

At your place? You have to be kidding!

"Sir..." Looking into Abraham's eyes, Dominic tried to determine if they would reveal anything of the man's secret sin. He saw nothing but what he'd always seen – _compassion_. Maybe he'd been wrong to pass judgment so quickly. "I can't. Not right now..."

"Why did you leave the organ so quickly on Sunday?"

"I had something to do."

"You had something to do," Abraham parroted. He could see Dominic's eyes searching him, trying to find that familiar connection. "Listen, I didn't come here to chide you about–"

"Then what are you here for?"

Abraham folded his arms. "You might as well spit it out. I know something's bothering the heck out of you."

Dominic couldn't believe he'd trusted this fellow – the biggest advocate on abstinence and personal purity, and here he was fronting as if he were still walking the straight and narrow. Yet, Dominic decided that the most sensible thing Abraham had taught him was to speak his mind – so, he did just that.

"Sir, what you do in the privacy of your home is between you and God. But by the same token, don't stand here and pretend to be all spiritual when you know you're having problems in your flesh."

"Speak English."

Tayah was the only other person who'd told him that. He hated to hear it coming from Abraham. "Come on, man, I was at your place the other night and a naked-butt woman was parading around in your house. Do you need me to be any clearer than that?"

Abraham smiled inwardly. Dominic had a smart mouth, but sometimes, his ability to see beyond an optical illusion caused him to jump to hasty assumptions. "So, that's what's been bothering you?"

"Are you for real? Sir, don't make me disrespect you. You taught us to cherish the truth" Dominic was becoming increasingly incredulous as the conversation went on. "You're not gonna admit that you had a prostitute in your place?"

"Prostitute?" Abraham kept the edge out of his voice. He hated referring to Honey as a prostitute, but it was a reality he had to accept for the moment. "Now how did you come to that conclusion? It seems to me you have already made up your mind about the situation. My account of the matter is unnecessary."

"With all due respect, sir, why do I feel you're playing games with me?"

"Do you think I'm playing games with you, Dominic? What do you suppose happened at my place?"

"Was she a prostitute?"

"It feels like I'm being put on trial here. Besides, you have established that..."

"Just answer the question."

"You may call her that if you wish."

"Did you have...?" Dominic fumbled with his words. The questions seemed rude, but his relationship with Abraham was incredibly forthright. Abraham would have it no other way.

"Did I what? Have sex with her?" Abraham said.

"Yes, and did you pay her for sex?" Dominic asked.

Abraham took his eyes off Dominic for a second, and then stared at a group of students laughing with one another. He was afraid something like this would happen. Abraham had always encouraged the young men in his mentoring program to adopt the wisdom of King Solomon, who withheld his judgment until he'd listened to both sides of a story. Apparently, Dominic had not grasped this lesson. If he had, Abraham thought, Dominic would have approached him for an explanation instead of avoiding him as if he had a contagious disease. So Abraham decided to let him sweat it out a little longer.

"You don't need me to confirm anything for you," Abraham said.

"Man, you're making me crazy. I saw a naked woman in your front room." Dominic shook his head in frustration. "Why can't I get a straight answer out of you?"

"Yes, I do give her money," Abraham admitted. "But I don't pay her for having sex with me. Is that what you want to hear?"

The color drained from Dominic's face. He backed away from Abraham and stumbled away to his next class, more confused than he'd been ten minutes earlier. He'd had his doubts, but hearing Abraham's confession smacked him like a ton of bricks. _He said he'd had sex with her_.

Deep down he had hoped he'd been wrong – that there was another explanation, but obviously, there wasn't any. _Sorry, Tayah_. His mentor had just admitted to something that went totally against what he'd been teaching them for five years. In his eyes, it was the mother of two-facedness, and he wasn't sure if he would ever get over it.

Tayah threw herself into her work, trying hard to ignore the ache that had been swelling inside her for months. She'd been stuck at her desk all day, lost in statistical data, and color-coded spreadsheets. First thing tomorrow morning, she would present a slideshow for her board of directors. Apart from volunteering at the Black Heritage Festival, she worked full-time as a Financial Analyst with JP Morgan Bank. With her glowing track record, she was in line to become the next COO, hopefully before she turned thirty-five. So she worked hard, long hours to prove that she had what it took to succeed. But she would have it no other way, especially now, when things in her personal life weren't going as planned.

With each passing day, it seemed as if she were falling deeper and deeper into the rut of depression. She was a strong-willed person, but after having been knocked down several times, she found it difficult at times to stay focused. For a moment, she moved her eyes away from the computer, feeling a sudden urge to do something she should have been doing all week. But her excuse had always been that there was too much on her plate to do. There was too much going on in her life, but neglecting such a vital source of strength had left her depleted.

She pushed back from her desk and took the two-minute walk to the company's main pantry. It was nearing three o'clock in the afternoon, so it would practically be empty. Once inside, she found a cozy spot against the window. She took off her shoes and then reclined on a velvety couch she felt convinced had been left there for the habitual sleepers.

Her BlackBerry always accompanied her wherever she went. As long as she had it, it was all that she needed. She navigated through her download folder, and pulled up her bible software. As she watched it load, she silently prayed for direction. She wanted to find the appropriate scriptures to read for what she was presently facing. _Jeremiah 29:11_ popped in her heart. She was familiar with it, but hadn't read it for a long time.

"For I know the thoughts that I think towards you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then, you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you..."

She paused. She didn't need to read any further. Everything she was experiencing in her life was suddenly spoken to. She had blamed God for her unexplained barrenness, but she'd been reminded that God's thoughts toward her were of peace and not of evil. It was a refreshing thought, to say the least; actually, it was a rebuke.

Nonetheless, it left her somewhat comforted. She read and reread it again until she had committed the passage to memory. It quickly dawned on her that going weeks without reading God's word left her susceptible to the miseries of broken focus. She threw her head back on the couch and allowed her mind to ruminate. But it didn't last long. Her BlackBerry went off with a clanging noise. _It never fails_ , she whispered, _there is always a distraction_. When she saw the number, she frowned.

"Hello Pastor Winder," Tayah tried to balance her voice. She didn't want to give off any signs that Dominic had confided in her about him.

"Why do you refuse to call me by my first name?"

"'Cause, my daddy didn't train me like that," she quipped.

"I'll be sure to tell Leroy to ease up on the military tactics. You're a grown woman now."

"You might as well tell him to toss me over the bridge," she laughed.

"Well, that is true." Abraham grew silent for a second before he spoke again. "Did Dominic speak to you?"

Tayah froze. She searched for the right words to say. "Um...today?"

"Yes..."

"No, I haven't heard from him." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, it doesn't matter." Abraham seemed to shift gears. "I won't be able to make the youth forum tomorrow evening."

"Oh, that's not good," Tayah commented. "The youth are expecting you to be there. They're hyped up from the last discussion."

Abraham chuckled. "They are always ready for a good squabble. But I'm sure you and Dominic would do an equally good job."

"Thanks for the encouragement."

"You don't need it. You're a natural like your father."

"If I mind you, I'll be thanking you all day." She found it hard to believe what Dominic had told her about Abraham. He just seemed too fatherly. "Same topic? ' _Friends with benefits_ ' part two?"

"I'm sure this could be dragged on for weeks," Abraham chuckled again. "Try to wrap it up in this session. I want to introduce them to something else."

"Yes, sir. Anything else you need us to relay?"

"No, that's all."

Abraham cut the connection, leaving Tayah alone with her thoughts. Soon her BlackBerry chirped, indicating she'd received two messages almost simultaneously. She read the first one, which came from Ian Laing:

"Hi Tayah, just letting you know the MLK Leadership Breakfast has been rescheduled for this Saturday – seven o'clock sharp at Embassy Suites on Fowler. We found a replacement for our keynote speaker who, unfortunately, still is in critical condition. Please get out the communication on this. Cheers!"

That reminded Tayah; she needed to send some flowers to the hospital. With so many things to do, it was easy to get distracted. The other message was from Dominic that succinctly read:

"Call me as soon as you get the opportunity."

She stole a glance at her watch. She had to get back to her desk to put the final changes on her presentation. She returned a text that was just as succinct.

"I will call you within the hour."

## Chapter Fifteen

Brandon, Florida

"Thanks for the ride Ms. Lori," Ellie told her son's kindergarten teacher. "We live over on the next street, just a ten-minute walk. We would have been okay."

"You guys could use a break, don't you think?" Lori handed Ellie her fake Fendi bag, wondering if Ellie had any other family besides her son. They appeared to be so sad and alone. "All that walking must get to you sometimes."

Ellie smiled, as she helped her son out of the back seat and picked up his lunchbox. "Not really," she told Lori. "Me and 'lil man have been doing this for a while. We love to walk. It ain't done us a thing but made our legs stronger."

Lori thought that was the craziest thing she'd ever heard. "I can help you get a car, if you want. My husband–"

"You're so sweet, really," Ellie said, her voice making her sound younger than her twenty years. "But we're fine. Besides, I don't even have a license."

"Awwh, poor thing," Lori sang pitifully.

Ellie chuckled. "It's not that bad, Ms. Lori. We'll survive. We have been surviving just fine. We have food, a roof over our heads, and we have each other..."

"Well, if you need anything else, please don't–"

"Bye, Ms. Lori." Ellie grabbed her son's hand as if social services was about to take him away from her. "Come 'lil man, say bye to your favorite teacher...thanks again Ms. Lori, by God's grace, we'll see you tomorrow..."

Ellie hurried ahead, pushing her son in front of her. She wanted to get inside before she broke out in tears, as she'd been doing these last couple of months. The loneliness, the boredom, the neighbors; everything was getting to her. She hadn't told Lori the truth; the walk had gotten to her a long time ago. She just didn't want Lori getting into her business. It was the same routine every day – walk 'lil man to school, catch the bus to work, pick up 'lil man after school, and then walk back home. It amazed her how her life had changed in five years. She'd gone from a hot-blooded, irresponsible teenager to a mother who wanted the best out of life for her son.

However, she couldn't do this single-mother stuff on her own anymore, not if she had to live in this God-forsaken house without her sister. But it was just not the house. It was the memories that lingered. Not one day went by when she didn't think about lil man's father and what could have been, had her sister not chased him off, as she'd done with all of the men she'd ever dated. It was part of the reason why she was so depressed. It seemed as if everyone she loved had packed up their bags and walked out of her life.

Shanny, you promised me, Ellie thought, as she kicked off her shoes and sank her tired body down on the mattress. You promised that you would come back for us. Can't you understand how much we need you? Momma gone, papa no way around, and my job at that clothing store sucks. I don't even have a good enough education to look for something better...look at this house. It's so old; filled with so many difficult memories...

"Mummy, you crying again?" 'Lil man had seen his mother cry all week and in his little mind, he wondered if his mother had a running faucet lodged between her eyes.

Ellie looked at him as he stood at her bedroom door, melting her heart with those puppy eyes. She hadn't realized her tears had pressed through her long lashes. She'd hoped 'lil man hadn't noticed, but he was as smart and as perceptive as his father. Because very little escaped their attention.

"Come here," she sniffed, patting the space in the bed next to her. She'd redecorated her sister's room with all of lil man's favorite action figures, but he still refused to sleep in it by himself. "One day," Ellie told her son. "Mummy won't have to cry so much. I'm working on getting us out of this place."

'Lil man seemed to be running Ellie's words through his precocious mind. "What's wrong with this place?" he asked her.

"Oh honey." Ellie kissed him on his forehead. "It'll take me all day to explain. You are too young to understand..."

"Understand what?"

"The reason why mummy is so sad," Ellie tried. She noticed a slump in his shoulder, which meant something she said hadn't been interpreted the way she intended. "What's wrong, baby?"

"You cry because of me? You don't want me anymore?"

Ellie pulled him closer to her, and looked him dead in the eye. "Don't you ever say stuff like that, okay? I love you, and you mean the world to me. I can't imagine living my life without you. Mummy love you, you understand that? I would do anything for you and I would die if anyone tries to take you away from me..."

Shanny, I can't stay here a day longer. Why did you have to leave us and go live in Tampa? What's there that is more important than us? Visiting us twice a month and giving us money is not enough.

"Stay here, baby and watch TV," Ellie instructed. "Mummy will be right back."

Ellie went to the linen closet and pulled out their only suitcase, which was torn on one side, but still had another year's use. She dragged it into the bedroom and then tossed it up on the bed.

"Okay, 'lil man, help mummy pack our things."

'Lil man grinned, nostalgically reminding Ellie of his father. "Are we going away?" he squealed.

Ellie smiled at his excitement. "Yes honey, we are definitely going away. Far away from this place."

Now all she had to do, Ellie thought nervously, was call her sister and convince her of her brilliant idea.

30th Street

Dominic believed he would never make it in the entertainment industry as an actor because he couldn't successfully hide his true feelings. If he was angry, confused, or even hurt, all of it showed in his expression and in his body language. And as much as he wanted to appear as if everything was smooth, calm, and together; for the sake of his boy, Sanchez, (especially now that his sister was in town), he simply couldn't do it.

He couldn't ignore that Abraham had just admitted to having sex with a prostitute and that he seemed to be at peace with it. How would he explain this to Sanchez, who was just starting to like the guy? He would never believe him, then again, maybe he would. Sanchez was more on the liberal side. He would probably say that he understood, and that Abraham was a man like they were – who possessed the propensity to fall into the weaknesses of the flesh.

But Dominic didn't want to hear that. What happened to the part in the scripture where it said, " _And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them_?" Abraham had pounded that into their heads, along with many other scriptures that blatantly disapproved of sexual immorality. Now here he was not reproving anything, but happily indulging in the sadistic pleasures of his flesh. Bishop Paxton wouldn't be too pleased to discover that his youth minister was nothing but a hypocrite in a black cassock. It would, no doubt, devastate him to the core, as it'd done to Dominic. But Dominic was thankful he had Tayah to talk to about this, because he felt he would have become extremely angry if he had to deal with this on his own.

He swung his car into the Fox Fire apartment complex and texted Sanchez, telling him that he was downstairs in the parking lot. He'd promised Sanchez and his sister that he would take them to see a movie after his last class ended. They had some time to kill, so they stopped at Applebee's to grab a bite to eat. A'moree had transformed herself into softer version of Rihanna, with her stylish wig and randy-looking outfit, which was tight around the curvy areas of her body. Dominic had to ask the Lord to keep his mind holy every time he looked at her. Her body held enough power to make a man sin in his sleep.

After they had ordered and had been eating for a few minutes, she popped her first question at him.

"So Dominic, what it is that you do?" She slowly sipped her fruit punch through a straw, and kept her eyes on him at the same time.

He shot his boy, Sanchez a disapproving look. "As much as you run your mouth, I thought you would have filled her in already."

"I tried," Sanchez grinned.

"And what happened?"

"She said she's a big girl and that she could ask you herself." Sanchez raised his palms to Dominic. "I've learned not to cross my sister when she's going after something."

A'moree let out a giggle. "Boy Sanchez, you better stop. You ain't right at all."

"For real, dawg. My sister would steamroll anyone if they messed with what she wants."

"Don't listen to him," A'moree said, playfully punching her brother. "I'm not the monster he's making me out to be."

"Trust me," Sanchez emphasized, opening his eyes big. "I know what I'm sayin'."

Dominic chuckled at how well A'moree and Sanchez seemed to get along. "Well, if you really must know, I'm a musician at our church."

"Awwh, c'mon, bruh! Tell her everythin'."

"That's what I'm being paid for."

Sanchez turned toward his sister. "A'moree, listen to me. He's not just a musician. He's the best they've got. This boy right here can make an organ talk!"

"Thank you, Sanchez..."

"On top of that, he runs the whole youth department!"

Dominic waved him off. "Now you're just talking plain nonsense."

A'moree kept sipping her sweet fruit punch. "So, you're the youth pastor or something?"

"Nawh. I just help out." Dominic tried to hide his distaste for being associated with Abraham's role. If they knew what he knew, they would realize leadership wasn't something anyone could handle. "Too many responsibilities. Too many expectations."

"But you should see this Negro in action," Sanchez said as if he were campaigning for Dominic's seat in the White House. "If Abraham wasn't my boy, I would have given Dom my vote. He's that good. Everyone loves this guy."

"Man, enough with the accolades," Dominic grinned. "I don't think A'moree wanted a resume."

"That's where you're wrong, sweet boy." A'moree swept a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I love to know everything about my man. These days, I need to know what I'm getting myself into."

Sanchez jumped up and gave his sister high five. "You're on fire today, baby girl. School him on how it's done."

Dominic shook his head. "It's hard to know when you guys are being serious."

"One thing you'll learn about Bahamians is that we love to laugh," A'moree said. "We'll laugh at anything, but don't let that fool you. When it's time to be serious, trust me, you'll know. We are passionate about a lot of things. From politics to the way we like our conch salad..."

A'moree paused as the waiter set their food before them. She grabbed some fries and stuffed them in her mouth. When it came down to satisfying her belly, she made no apology for it. She secretly touched one of Sanchez's legs under the table, giving him the signal to make himself disappear. He got up and made a beeline toward the restroom, to give Dominic and his sister a few moments of privacy. It was enough to get the ball rolling. His sister was a brazen twenty-year-old female who knew how to use her mind on men. If there was one woman who could help Dominic get over his obsession for Tayah, it was A'moree Aliyah Dixon. She had a proven record of accomplishment.

"So, Dominic, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Whoa! Now where did that come from?"

A'moree giggled at his expression. "It's just a question, silly."

"Well, if you must know, I'm not involved with anyone at the moment."

"Do you have your eyes on anyone?"

Dominic's mind went immediately on Tayah, but he shoved away whatever feelings came with that thought. She was off the market and there wasn't anything he could do about it. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

She batted her long lashes at him. "The question is, Dominic, how would you prefer your woman?"

Dominic cracked a smile. "From now on, I have to be careful of how I choose my words."

Above them in the ceiling, Lauryn Hill's song, " _Ex-Factor_ ," crooned into the speaker, switching the mood dramatically into a more soulful feeling. A'moree had a habit of staring, which at times unnerved the heck out of Dominic.

"I love your smile," she said. "It shows you have confidence."

"Do you mind if I ask how old you are? You seem so young."

"I said I love your smile. You're not gonna say thank you?"

Dominic didn't know how much more of this he could sit through without being affected by her magnetic charm. "Thank you, A'moree."

She giggled. "I'm twenty. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-four."

"Perfect."

"Why is that perfect?"

"You do know girls mature faster than boys, right?" She pulled her cherry out of her glass, allowing it to fall slowly upon her tongue. "We should be on the same level."

"A'moree, I'm a Christian."

"Do I make you nervous?"

Dominic looked around for his boy, Sanchez, but he was nowhere in sight. "Did you hear what I said?"

"So am I." She chewed the cherry as if she'd picked it from one of the trees of Eden. "You didn't answer my question."

"To be honest, you're pushing too much at me right now. I just met you yesterday."

A'moree shrugged. "Okay, cool with me. At least, I know that you're nothing like my brother."

"What do you mean by that?"

"When Sanchez told me he was a Christian, I laughed at him for ten minutes on that phone."

"He is trying," Dominic offered in his boy's defense.

"You don't know Sanchez. That boy loves women. I would not air his dirty laundry, but trust me, you're nothing like him. You're husband material. He's not."

Dominic's eyes moved up and caught Sanchez trotting back to their table, his face as animated as it usually was. Inwardly, Dominic breathed a sigh of relief.

Sanchez gave Dominic one of those naughty looks. "So, should I book a room for tonight? I could sense the devil was messin' around in the convo..."

Dominic laughed. "I can't believe I'm friends with you."

"Without me, boy, your life would be boring as hell. You better believe that!"

## Chapter Sixteen

"Please follow me, Mr. Benjamin," a lab technician told Phillip.

They walked quickly through the reception area and down the hall to the elevator, which would take them to the third floor, and to Dr. Roger Valoom's office. The technician opened a giant oak door and beckoned to Phillip, who'd, for some strange reason, brought his vibrant stride to a halt.

"This way, Mr. Benjamin," she said with a reassuring smile. "You don't have to look so terrified. Dr. Valoom will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," Phillip managed, as he took a seat on a leather couch.

As he waited on Doctor Valoom, he took the opportunity to assure himself that the result of his test would be favorable. His fears would be put to rest, and he would have no need to question his manhood anymore. He looked around the office a bit, pleased to see several certifications displaying Doctor Valoom's name, which he'd gotten from the Internet. If his wife weren't so hell bent on having a baby, this procedure would have been the last thing to cross his mind. She had wanted them to book the appointment together, but he was a man who didn't take well to surprises. That's why it was extremely important for him to plan these first few sessions without her, and depending on how they went, he would decide what course of action to take.

Soon, Doctor Valoom shuffled in, offering a quick greeting to Phillip before he squeezed his pudgy body behind his desk. He placed his specs on the bridge of his nose and then proceeded to open Phillip's file.

"The results of your sperm and semen analysis are in," he said rather nonchalantly. He glanced up at Phillip, his eyes indicating that he had little trust in the forms filled out by some of his patients. "I don't know too many single men lining up to find out the status of their fertility."

"Well, I guess I happen to be in the minority." Phillip didn't care for small talk. He simply wanted to know the results of his test. He kept his eyes glued to the specialist, trying to predict the outcome of something that could change his life forever. "So, is it good or bad news?"

"It depends on which way you look at it," Valoom said. "Two things. Your sperm density is unusually low..."

Phillip sat up straight. "What does that mean?"

"Meaning your ejaculate holds less sperm per milliliter than normal. Sperm density is measured in the millions, which means a normal ejaculate is about twenty million or more sperm per millimeter with a total of eighty million."

"How much less are we talking about?"

"I'll get to that." Valoom flipped over to the next page. "I see some problems in your sperm motility. One hour after ejaculation, at least fifty percent of your sperm should be motile and moving in a straight line. Progression is rated on a scale from zero to four, with four being the highest..."

Phillip didn't know if he could listen to anymore of this. His heart felt as if it were beating under the soles of his feet. "Where do I fall on the scale?"

Valoom peered up from his glasses. "One, which means your motility is not good."

"One?" Phillip stood up and turned his back to the specialist. "You're saying I can't father a child?"

"Don't panic," Valoom said. "These are only the results of the first sample. You will need to test again in a few weeks."

"For what? I don't need to hear this twice." Phillip spun around with suspicion covering his face. "Are you sure those results are accurate?"

"Mr. Benjamin, when we evaluate a man's fertility, we consider each aspect of the semen analysis. We look at the whole picture. Each aspect either contributes to fertility or lessens it. But the outcome is not written in stone."

Phillip felt a glimmer of hope "That means the results are inaccurate."

"No, the results of the first sample are accurate. Our technicians are well trained. I'm saying, it is possible to correct this condition. But you will have to come in for further testing."

"Be honest with me, doctor," Phillip said, keeping his eyes locked on Valoom. "In your professional opinion, what is the likelihood of the results coming out the same?"

"The state of an ejaculate can change dramatically over a three month period. That's why it is not recommended that we conclude our evaluation on one sample. But if there is an underlying problem, then yes, it is very likely the test results can be similar."

Phillip nodded his thanks. He walked slowly toward the door, fighting back tears. This was the worst news he'd ever received in his life. He continued out the door while Valoom was telling him that he would see him in three months. Three months? He wondered if he'd still be alive by then. The way he felt at the moment, was a good excuse to hang himself. But first, he had to find a bar and ask for the strongest liquor that was on the shelf. A couple of drinks would set him aright and wash away this hole in his heart.

Several Hours Later

"Don't speak to me like I'm retarded. I know this is your investment!" Phillip yelled into the phone. "I'm still working on it...no, I need more time...yes, of course....you will get your money...this week? Are you crazy, man? I can't get that much by then...yes...yes, I know, I understand the terms of the contract...I'll see what I can do."

Phillip flopped back down in his chair, his nostrils flaring in anger. He couldn't believe he'd been given an ultimatum. This was almost as tragic as being told he couldn't get a woman pregnant. For two years he'd been working on a new invention that promised to alleviate chronic back pain with one push of a button, but he needed more time and more funding to ensure its success in the market. All the money he had borrowed had been swallowed up in research and parts manufacturing. The prototype was far from what he'd hoped it would be, but he would be a fool to let all of his hard work dwindle to nothingness. Now the investors were calling, threatening his life if he didn't come up with at least half of what he'd promised to deliver. In desperation, he snatched up the phone and punched in the numbers he'd called two days earlier.

"Yes, Phillip." The person answered after the second ring. "What you want?"

"I'm tired of calling about the check. Is it ready? I've got things to take care of."

The person seemed to be wrestling with some papers. "Give me a few days and I will bring it to you."

"You said that two days ago. You can't do any better than that?"

"I've told you, I'll bring it to you. Now sit your butt still until I get there."

The connection was cut, leaving Phillip even angrier. He jumped up and paced the floor of his austere office, an old washed-up warehouse he'd leased for pocket change. He felt like pulling every strand of hair out of his head. Being married to Tayah wasn't all it was cracked up to be. By now, he was certain he would have been on easy street. By now, he thought they would have been making plans to have their second baby – what a waste everything had turned out to be. He didn't care what that stupid doctor told him. He was as virile and as fertile as any healthy twenty-seven-year old male. He refused to accept that all this time he'd been married to Tayah that he'd been shooting blanks.

He'd even placed a noose on his dreams of becoming a professional dance instructor – just to pursue something he thought would have swung him through the gates of affluence. Now, he wasn't so sure he'd made the right decision. He shouldn't have listened to Tayah about his dancing being vulgar and unholy. But it was too late to back out of pursuing his invention; he'd already secured thousands of dollars of investors' money.

He'd promised them a reasonable return within eighteen months. That was the deal. Somehow, eighteen months passed and there was nothing to show for it. He paused and looked up into the ceiling, noticing the rusted beams that ran from one end of the room to the next. He shook his head despairingly. He had to get out of this place before everything collapsed on him.

He took his cell from his side and called Dee with a punch of a button.

"Dinner at the Steakhouse over on West Shore. My treat," he said to her when she answered the phone.

"What?" Dee glanced at her watch. "It's only six o'clock. What's the occasion?"

"Clearing my head before I go nuts."

Dee laughed. "I thought you did that on the dance floor last night."

"Every day is different crap." Phillip was already putting on his Corduroy jacket. "So, what you say, girl?"

Dee decided to mess with him. "I don't know, my boy, I'm certain the wifey doesn't fancy threesomes."

"You're sick, you know that? I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

They arrived together and then asked to be taken to a booth near a window. They ordered right away, asking the waiter to bring their drinks before their food. Dee looked at Phillip from across the table and sensed his edginess.

"Somehow, you always seem nervous when we're out," she said. "But this evening you seem over the top. Everythin' cool?"

He barely heard what she'd said, but he didn't bother to ask her to repeat herself. He simply offered her a listless smile.

"You know, I've known you for a good bit and I still don't know all it is that you do," she tried. "You're always vague about this invention you're working on, how is–"

"You know that I love to dance. Everything else is irrelevant."

"By that, you mean, it's none of my cotton-picking business."

"No, I mean exactly what I said. It's irrelevant."

They gradually grew silent. She was about to make a comment about how nice his Corduroy jacket looked on him, but another scene snatched her attention. "It looks like someone is taking matters into her own hands."

"What?"

"Don't look until I tell you," she warned. "And whoever this guy is she's with, is one fine-looking hunk..."

Despite Dee's warning, Phillip twisted his head around. His heart dove to the back of his neck when he saw his wife coming up the aisle, with Dominic Housten, trailing closely behind. He spun back around and pushed the menu in front of his face.

"Why didn't you tell me it was Tayah?"

"I did tell you not to look, stupid."

"What are they doing here together?"

"Now that, I can't tell you."

The waiter took Tayah and Dominic across the floor to a booth against the wall – far enough for Phillip to remain inconspicuous but close enough for him to keep an eye on them. Peeking over the menu, he watched as Dominic pulled out a chair for Tayah and then sat opposite her, offering her a lingering smile. The scene disturbed him immensely, because he knew Dominic had always wanted Tayah for himself.

"You wanna go over and say hello?" Dee asked.

"What?"

"You're eyeballing them like they're celebrities."

"What you expect me to do?" Phillip glanced at Dee for a brief second and then back to the scene at hand.

"Cut it out, before she catches you..."

"So, this is what she does when I'm not home..." His words faded into his crazy imagination.

"What do you want the woman to do? Stay home and count sheep all night?"

"Yes, that's what a decent wife does!"

"Oh really? Get over yourself, Phillip." Dee was happy just to be friends with this man and nothing more. He was a serious piece of work.

He continued. "My wife is over there chatting it up with organ boy, knowing his only intention is to get between her legs."

Dee stole a quick glance at them. "Boy, please. Spare me the drama. That woman is not interested in anyone but you. Now, if she goes running off into the arms of another man, it's nobody's fault but yours."

Tayah and Dominic both ordered raspberry ice teas with an appetizer to start the ball rolling. They'd agreed to meet at the Steakhouse while they discussed the plans for the youth rally, but the youth rally was the farthest thing from Dominic's mind.

"I'm really concerned over this thing with Abraham," Tayah said in a tone that told Dominic she wanted to protect this man at all cost. "You think it's connected?"

"What's that?"

"With him cancelling at the last minute."

"I'm fairly certain it is," Dominic answered. "I don't think he would be comfortable heading the discussion. ' Friends with benefits' is an extremely _touchy_ subject."

"I know," Tayah said, nodding her head. "We had to practically jump in between two girls at the last session."

Dominic smiled at the recollection. "The truth can pierce like a dagger."

"Tell me about it. But it's good medicine for the soul."

"It depends on the context," he told her. "The truth is a double-edged sword."

"Well, this is true," she admitted. "Truth can destroy as well."

"Exactly. That's why I don't think Abraham would be able to face me. Knowing what I found out about him, I would imagine it would be hard for him to teach abstinence and look me in the eyes..."

"I see you're still hanging on to this assumption."

"It's not an assumption, Tayah. He confessed everything to me today."

She stared at him, not sure what he really meant by that statement. "So, it is true then?"

"Unfortunately, as I have suspected."

"How did he react when you confronted him?"

"I didn't. He waited until I got out of my class..."

The waiter interrupted him, placing their raspberry ice teas in front of them. Tayah leaned forward, taking a sip.

"I've been avoiding his calls, you see?" Dominic finished. "When he wanted to know why, I told him what I saw that night. He played with my head a bit, but eventually I forced it out of him."

Tayah kept her eyes on Dominic.

"Yes, he confessed to everything, Tayah," he affirmed, as if he'd read her mind. "He said he paid her for sex."

"Our Abraham?" She leaned back and took in a deep breath. "This is so unbelievable. I still can't picture it."

He looked at her ruefully. "I feel as if I've been punched in the gut. I would have cared less if it was someone else."

She wholeheartedly agreed with that. She grew silent, as scenarios of what could happen if anyone else found out about Abraham's indiscretions swirled around in her head. Like her father, he was a well-revered man in the church and was well-loved by the youth. Dominic was right; knowing the truth sometimes destroys. What good would come from exposing Abraham's weakness? The youth would be the ones mostly affected. She shuddered at the thought of it.

For a moment, her eyes travelled over to the booth behind Dominic. She noticed a pair of twin boys who appeared to be of Italian descent. They looked no more than four years old. She offered them a smile, and when one of them returned it, her heart melted. _Lord, when am I going to have my own_? She pondered silently. Dominic watched her the entire time, sensing her mood change.

"When are you and Phillip going to add a little one to the family?"

Tayah stared at him suspiciously. Apart from her mother, no one knew how hard she and Phillip had been trying. But she wasn't about to disclose that to Dominic. She cracked a smile instead, hoping it didn't reveal her sadness.

"We are still young, you know," she said. "When the time is right, I'll be the one to tell you."

Dominic didn't buy it. He knew Tayah well enough to know she was hiding her true feelings, but he also knew when she didn't want him to pry. So he just sat and stared at her, and allowed her fragrance to put him under the 'Tayah' spell. Even though they'd come to discuss the youth rally and the circumstances surrounding Abraham, he longed to express the way he truly felt about her.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Is something wrong?" she asked him.

"It's noth –" For the second time that evening, the waiter interrupted him, but this time he was relieved.

"You were saying?" She wasn't about to let him get off that easily.

He grinned, showing nicely formed teeth. "I wasn't saying anything."

"Tell me, or I swear I'll make you pay for it." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh really now? What do you have in mind?"

"Don't push me, because you know I'm good for it."

Dominic gave her a puzzled, but playful look. "What are we talking about?"

"Beats me. I don't know."

They burst into laughter, releasing the tension both of them had been carrying around the last few days.

He reached out and cupped her hands. "Thanks for that, Tayah. I really needed that."

"I can say the same, Dominic. I'm beginning to enjoy the evening."

Phillip caught it all and by the time their waiter brought the check to them, he was furious. Dee had stopped him twice from intervening.

"Why don't we go and get a drink somewhere else?" she suggested. "You sitting here foaming out your mouth isn't making any sense."

"You go. I'm not going anywhere."

Dee was confused. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

"You saw the way he held her hands? It's exactly what I suspected."

"You need to stop allowing your imagination to run wild–"

"Don't tell me what to do!" he hissed at her. "That punk has the hots for my wife."

"You know what, Phillip? I'm leaving." Dee pulled out some money and threw it at him. "You can give, but you can't take. Call me when you're in a less nasty mood."

Phillip jumped up too, slapping down one hundred dollars on the table. As he'd promised to pay, he picked up her money and hurried after her. "Wait, Dee. I'm sorry."

She continued walking until they got outside.

"I said I'm sorry, woman!"

She spun around to face him. "What's the matter with you, snapping at me like that?"

"Here." He handed her the money. "I just got carried away. I don't want to lose Tayah."

She yanked her money from him and shoved it in her bosom. "Then start treating her like she deserves it, idiot!"

"I know. Tonight made me realize that." He studied Dee for a second. Tonight was the first time he'd seen her eyes with that much fire in them. "You still want to get a drink somewhere?"

Dee's face softened into a smile. "Only if you're paying."

"You little rat."

## Chapter Seventeen

When Leroy walked through the doors of his eight thousand-square-feet mansion, it was several minutes after nine in the evening. The late hours that he'd spent at his office that night were not intentional, but he had suffered a delay from a series of academic meetings with deans and campus presidents.

Mount Moriah was in the middle of launching their School of Theology and their satellite college, which would give his members and his local community the opportunities of spiritual advancement. His goal was not to make money; the church didn't need it. But with the same token, the courses would be severely discounted, taking in enough to defray minimal expenses. If all went as planned, which he imagined it would, he would fly out to the headquarters in Pittsburg for the official ratification.

Their Staffordshire bull terrier greeted him at the door again, indicating Michelle was around. The way he had stormed away from her this morning, he seriously doubted she was happy to see him. Nonetheless, he felt a sudden urge to be near her. There was much to settle between them, but he didn't know where to begin, or what words to use to soothe things over. The strenuous fighting had left both of them wounded. He took the elevator upstairs, feeling much older than his forty-nine years.

The first room, left of the elevator belonged to Sean, the one across from it belonged to Eric. He paused between the doors, which he assumed, was intentionally bolted shut to keep him and Michelle out of their world. He couldn't remember the last time he reached out to his sons. Playing basketball with them was one thing but getting into their heads was another. They were such different people now. Their privacy and their independence was important to them than chitchatting with a father who barely saw them during the week. He was certain he would be wasting his time.

By the time he reached his bedroom, his shoes were in one hand and his blazer was in the other. Darkness cloaked the room, save for the light that came peeking through the bathroom door that had been left ajar. His eyes immediately scanned the bed and he noticed his wife hadn't succumbed to another disappearing act. Taking that as a good sign, he stripped off his clothing, and then eased his sturdy frame into bed and against her back. He waited to see how she would react, as he tentatively wrapped his arms around her. As soon as she stirred, he leaned over her and kissed the passion back into her lips.

"What are you doing?" She stopped him, her voice breathless with desire.

"I miss you."

She didn't respond.

"Are you still upset with me?" he asked her.

"You can't kiss away our problems."

"No, but we can take a break from fighting."

"What's the point?"

"The point is I still love you." He gripped her tighter. "And I still desire every part of your body."

Her face turned to meet his eyes. Immediately, she was taken back almost twenty-six years, when she'd told him for better or for worse. He was still as dashing as the day she'd met him.

"Leroy, you know it's hard for me to stay angry with you." Her eyes moistened. "Don't play on my vulnerability tonight."

"I love you, Michelle. There is no hidden agenda in those words." He pressed his lips lightly against her forehead. "Don't try to rationalize this one; just go with the flow."

As frightened as she felt inside, she gave into the desires of her husband. Whatever the repercussions, she blocked it out of her mind and trusted that God knew she'd done everything to keep her marriage together.

****

Seven thirty the next morning, Michelle was up and about and fixing something to eat for her three men. Normally, she skipped breakfast and settled for a light snack at brunch. But this morning was a different order of business. Spending time with Leroy had put her in a happier mood. She hadn't felt such a burst of joy in a while – not knowing how long it would last, she relished the moment.

She spun in the kitchen like a top, setting the table, pouring the orange juice and then running back to the stove to flip the omelet. She parted the blinds and looked through the window. Sean and Eric were sweating it out in a tense game of basketball. It had become their morning ritual – their way of showing Leroy and Michelle they were surviving just fine. But Michelle knew better. She'd seen how the fighting between her and Leroy affected them. They were petrified but had done a decent job covering it up. She made up her mind to talk to them as soon as she could pull them aside.

"What is all this?" Leroy came up behind Michelle and gently tugged on her earlobe with his lips. The scent of the eggs practically dragged his nose into the kitchen. He straightened a burgundy tie against a baby blue and white pinstripe shirt.

Michelle smiled, wiping her hands on her apron. "I thought I would catch you boys before you all dash out of here. Come. Sit."

Leroy pulled his chair in front of a charming plate, graciously arrayed with his favorites. A healthy helping of deviled eggs mixed with shredded grilled turkey, two Pillsbury rolls, and a slice of avocado. "If you gonna start this up again; I may need to readjust my time."

"Don't tease me, Leroy." She gave him a raised brow. "I might just hold you to your word."

Leroy kept his eyes on her, noticing how lively she looked all of a sudden. "Thanks for last night," he told her.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she smiled. "Giving in to you like that."

"You couldn't help yourself even if you tried."

"Oh really? You think I can't resist you?"

"I convinced you to marry me, didn't I?"

She draped herself over his shoulders. "Only because I felt sorry for you, my dear."

Leroy laughed. "I see the years have tarnished your memories a bit."

"I'm as fresh now as I was then. Plus, you had daddy to deal with."

"Oh yeah. How could I forget? He chased me off his porch with a broomstick."

Michelle chuckled, recalling the scene. "Because you Paxton men are dangerous men. He always said that. He hammered his words into my head every day. _Don't trust that boy; he'll lead you to the devil's camp_..."

Leroy's smile gradually faded as he thought about those words. "Have I?"

"Have you what?"

"Have I done what your father said?"

Michelle eased up from Leroy's shoulders, not certain how she should respond. If he'd asked her that question two nights ago her words would have been jarring, and to the point. She might have even asked for a divorce – well, maybe not a divorce, but a separation. It was part of her action plan if he hadn't agreed to her ultimatum, which demanded that he kick Shaniece out of their lives. As she stood over her husband's shoulder with scenes of last night's romance replaying in her head, most of the things she'd resolved in her heart to do, suddenly dissipated. Now she was being forced to make up her mind on the spot.

Leroy rested his fork on his plate and turned his head in her direction. "Michelle? What's the problem?"

"I can't do this, Leroy."

"Do what?"

"This. I can't pretend. I can't–"

"Wait," Leroy said. He stood up and embraced her. "What we did last night was not meant to confuse you. I don't expect you to pretend that we're back on track. I'm just tired of the fighting and all the noise that's driving us farther and farther apart. I'm not delusional. Our problems will not be taken care of overnight, but I promise you that I will put more effort into fixing it."

"Leroy, you know what I want. Why can't you simply get rid of that woman?"

The back door swung open with a crash, clearing the way for Sean as Eric chased him with a swinging, wet towel. They dashed around and around the table, prompting Leroy to draw Michelle into his bosom.

"Boy, give that ball here!" Eric demanded. "You're nothing but a loser!"

"You want it? Come get it."

"You better don't let me catch you..."

"Sean, give the ball to me," Leroy said. "I swear, the more you boys play this game the more immature you become."

"Would you believe I just told this fool that?" Eric said, panting, sweat droplets plummeting from his shaved head. "This is a man's game; if this moron can't handle–"

"Baby, don't call your brother a moron," Michelle said.

"Well, he is and that is a proven fact."

Eric attempted to plant his sweaty frame at the table but Michelle stopped him dead in his tracks. "No sir, bathroom! Go and wash up, both of you."

"Too much time," Sean said. "I only want a piece of toast. We have to get out of here."

"For what?" Leroy popped two Mega men tablets in his mouth. "It's Wednesday. Your classes don't start til' eleven."

"Come on, dad," Eric said. "We told you about this last week."

"The boys are right, Leroy," Michelle said. "They have a football game at the Raymond James Stadium this morning."

"Who are you playing against?" Leroy asked.

"Are you coming?"

"I would have, Sean, if you boys would have reminded me. I have a business meeting starting in less than half an hour."

"As usual, don't worry about it."

"Don't wave me off," Leroy said. "I said I–"

"Dad, don't worry it," Eric said, pushing Sean ahead of him. "Let's go, boy and put a hurting on those girls over there..."

Michelle frowned. "Girls?"

"Relax, mom. It's not what you're thinking."

"You should talk to them," Leroy said the minute the boys disappeared through the foyer.

"Me?"

"Yes. They won't listen to me."

"Have you tried, Leroy? I mean, really?"

"Of course. They won't open up. I remember when they were comfortable telling me anything." He reached for the portfolio he'd left unlocked. Neither he nor Michelle noticed the pieces of paper that fell to the floor. "I can't recall when that change occurred."

"They are no longer the little boys who used to sleep on your chest, Leroy. They need a father to teach them how to be a man. You're never around..."

"Please, don't get on me about that. I have enough to think about as it is."

"Can't you call in, or go in later? You don't have to sit in every meeting."

"I know, hon, I know." Leroy sighed, as he gently pressed his forehead against Michelle's. "Give me a little time and I promise you I'll fix all of this."

"I'm so tired, Leroy. I don't know if I can–"

The phone rang and swallowed Michelle's words. That was Leroy's cue to escape while he had the chance. "We'll talk about this tonight when I return," he said.

"Hello?" Michelle spoke into the receiver, watching her husband run through the door.

"Mother? How are you?"

"Tayah! It is so good to hear your voice, darling." Michelle clutched the phone tighter. "I haven't spoken to you in two weeks almost."

"And it's so bad that you're keeping count," Tayah laughed.

"You know me; I'm a worry freak, especially when it comes to my children. What's been keeping you from church?"

"Mother, things are so crazy right now. This is a week of celebration for the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival. I'm one of the event coordinators. So, sister girl has got her work cut out for her."

"How do you keep up with your job and all?"

"Only by the grace of God and several cups of coffee."

"Now, hearing this concerns me," Michelle said. "Abraham called and said he wouldn't be able to make it tonight. That means you have to take charge of the forum."

"It's nothing, mother. I love what I do. Besides, Dominic's gonna be there to help me."

"I am still concerned."

"Of course, you would be," Tayah chuckled. "I'm not easily tamed."

"Which you got directly from your father," Michelle quipped.

"Ouch! Do I detect a pinch of jealousy in your voice?"

"Tayah, have you called your mother to torture her?"

"Torture?" Tayah scrunched up her face. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that word mean to inflict excruciating pain, to punish, to twist, or to pervert. A shocking example of true torture would be–"

"Okay, Tayah, I admit. You are certainly your father's child."

"Thank you, mother. That was very brave of you."

Michelle grinned. "You crazy child."

"I can tell you miss me around there."

"Please, don't rub it in..."

"Let's fix that," Tayah said. "I want you and daddy to be my special guests on Saturday night."

"Does it have to do with this festival you're involved in?"

"You sound kind of sad," Tayah said. "It's a volunteer banquet. We've been helping a lot people around the community and the board wants to take time to recognize its volunteers. Please tell me you'll come."

"I'll think about it, darling," Michelle said. "I don't have anything else to do."

Tayah squealed her excitement into the phone. "Thank you, mother! I love you..."

As Michelle replaced the receiver on the hook, she was suddenly hit with a grim realization, and no amount of wishful thinking about yester years, or praying that the hands of time would somehow reverse themselves, would stop her worst nightmare from making an appearance. Soon, her home would be empty of the voices of all her children and the walls would stand in silence, serving as a constant reminder of the happiness she'd once shared with them. It would just be her and Leroy, growing older with no one to scream at except each other. And she couldn't imagine doing that for the rest of her life. Fifty was slapping her hard in the face, pressuring her to assess the quality of her life. And what did she have to show for it? She was just a miserable, jobless wife of a pastor who'd promoted another woman over her.

En route to her dishwasher, her eyes caught several documents near Leroy's chair, where he'd sat in earlier. She bent and picked them up, and went to toss them in the garbage disposal, thinking they were old utility bills, but as she shifted through them, she realized she'd better call Leroy. A check for twenty-five thousand dollars, made out to Hillsborough Children Charity Fund, was something important.

However, when she called his office, Brenda informed Michelle that Leroy had just gone into a meeting and that she would have him call home as soon as he was available. Michelle stuffed the documents into one of the cubbyholes of their cabinets, thinking to herself, if Leroy really needed them, he would arrange to get them. Her hasty handling of the documents caused a folded sheet of paper to separate from the pile and fall to the floor with a slap.

She yanked it up and inspected it, noting that it was a simple receipt. She would have stuffed it back into the cubbyhole along with the other documents if it weren't for three words that jumped out at her – "Holiday Inn Express".

"Brandon, Florida?" She frowned, speaking in a whisper. "Why would Leroy have a Holiday Inn receipt in his things? I don't remember us having to attend any recent events in Brandon, or having to spend a night..."

Again, Michelle would have simply dismissed it as another one of Leroy's spontaneous business trips, which he took from time to time without her. However, when she noticed the date of the receipt, a cold wave swept from her head to her feet. It was not just any date. It was a date she would never forget for as long as she lived – _July 30, 2007_ – almost five years ago, the night she thought that she had lost her husband. Her flight from Chicago had just landed when she received the message from Abraham that Leroy had been brutally attacked, shot, and taken to a hospital in Brandon.

" _July 30, 2007_ ," Michelle repeated quietly. She looked at the time on the receipt – _11:33 a.m_. She had received Abraham's message approximately fifteen minutes after nine that night.

Back then, the only thing she remembered thinking as she raced down the halls of that hospital was wondering why Leroy had been in Brandon? He had explained this by telling her he had been attending another one of those business meetings. Maybe she was reading too much into this; maybe the dates were just a coincidence; maybe she just wanted tangible evidence to prove she'd been right all along – that Leroy had in fact cheated on her.

" These are just your crazy thoughts, girl. Calm down and relax. You should trust your man..."

But she couldn't relax; and she couldn't take Leroy's words as gospel, which was a downright disgrace, because he was supposed to be a minister of the Gospel, sharing God's truth without contamination. If he'd lied to Brenda and to their kids, telling them she'd flown to New York, when he fact he knew she'd spent the night at her mother's house, what were the chances he would ever tell her the truth about an affair?

Resting her buttocks against the counter, she questioned her naivety and her willingness to believe Leroy was still the same dashing prince she'd married almost twenty-six years ago. She couldn't shake the feeling that'd been growing in the pit of her stomach for months, in fact, years and it was time she did something about it.

## Chapter Eighteen

Shaniece Bryant, a well-put-together woman, deserved to have any man she so chose, and for any man to outright reject her, must mean he was gay, unborn, or dead. She was not the drop-dead gorgeous type, but her curvy form, which swayed delicately on a pair of legs that was sure to get even the Pope's attention, made men crumble like breadcrumbs. She wore her light brown hair bobbed slightly above her shoulders, making sure it hugged her smooth, oval-shaped face like a Cleopatra wig. From head to toe, she made sure everything had the right balance and shine.

She had changed her wardrobe to accommodate her new profession as second in command to Leroy Paxton, but she was far from looking like a matronly church mother. She'd been a halter-top, miniskirt, fishnet, wearing chick, who'd been forced to hide all of it in neat little packages. But the time would come when she would use them again. For now, she kept busy maintaining a certain image. One slip up and all of the effort she'd put into getting where she was, could be lost. She was determined to perfect her craft and perfect her hold over Leroy – two things that would secure her position, which was heavily threatened by Leroy's wife.

Michelle had remained below the radar for a long time, but it was only a matter of time before her wrath exploded. That foolishness she pulled on Sunday told Shaniece she had better up her game. She had better strengthen the noose around Leroy's neck. Thank goodness for her awesome mind because she had already set the next stage of her plan in motion.

The upcoming Sunday had been designated as Women's Day and it was Shaniece's time to 'drop' a word in the house. She never understood the importance of the sanctimonious titles given to the church leadership, who were adept at public speaking. Anyone with a little training and a little practice could do what she did at Mount Moriah. Toss in a couple of scriptures from the King James Bible and the congregation was hooked.

Politicians did it all the time when they visited their church, hoping to win the hearts of people who didn't know any better. That thought reminded Shaniece of what she needed to do to make sure her sermon was tight and that it fit in with the season. That way, those trusting fools would believe she'd been given a 'divine' revelation from God. You see, the politicians had their way and she had hers.

"Let's see what's appropriate for this Sunday," she said, spreading out a collection of sermons from some of the most famous preachers around the world. She picked out a few that she thought would resonate with her 'spirit'. _How to fast for forty days_. "No way, I don't even fast."... _Spending quality time with God_. "Oh please."... _Heaven or Hell, where would you go_..."I'm in heaven right now if you ask me."

_Be aggressive and seize your destiny_..."Oooh, I like the sound of this one, make me wanna shout up in here..."

She slipped the disc into the DVD player and quickly, a heavyset man appearing to be in his mid-forties lit up the screen. She upped the volume to her taste and focused in, listening for key phrases that were sure to get the congregation up and jumping. Words were powerful, but the right words were lethal. The words she chose, not only had to be right, but also had to have the ability to manipulate and control her subjects.

"Hello?" Her Samsung Galaxy chirped next to her.

"Shanny, how you doin'?"

Shaniece sat up straight. Her baby sister was the only one who still called her by that silly name. She wondered what she wanted now; she had just given her two thousand dollars. "Hey Ellie, I'm fine. Why you calling? I just spoke to you last month."

"Seem like I caught you in a bad mood," Ellie said "You have plenty of anger in your voice."

"No, Ellie, I'm fine, really." Shaniece held the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "What do you want?"

Ellie breathed heavily into the phone. "I've been thinking a whole lot these days, Shanny..."

"Thinking?" Shaniece held her breath in anticipation. "About what?"

"Promise you won't get mad at me."

I'm already mad. Between you and my brother, I don't know who gives me the most stress, Shaniece thought. "What is it, Ellie?"

"It's just that. I don't know..."

"You need more money?"

Ellie sighed. "No, Shanny. You gave me enough money to last me and my son for a month. I'm thinking about leaving that dumb job anyway, but I only work because I'd go crazy sitting in that house all day. And I'm thinking about taking 'lil man out of that school, and I–"

"Ellie, I can't stay on the phone, listening to your rambling. I'm preparing my sermon for Sunday. I can't waste–"

"Sermon?" Ellie sounded as if she'd been punched in the gut with that one. "You're a preacher now, Shanny? What's going on with you these days?"

"There's nothing going on with me," Shaniece hissed. "I'm busy with this job–"

"You just said it was a sermon, now it's a job? Which is it, Shanny? Why do I feel as if you're keeping something from me?"

Fact was that Shaniece had kept everything from Ellie. All these years she'd told Ellie that she'd been hired by a huge corporation to oversee their International Public Relations Department. Technically, Shaniece was doing a lot of public speaking at Mount Moriah and she was somewhat in charge over a large body of people, but it was not the truth that Ellie needed to hear.

Shaniece had originally planned to keep Ellie away from Leroy, at least, long enough to ensure that her agenda had been established. If she'd told Ellie her plan from the beginning, Ellie would have objected and would have probably reported her to the police. Leroy was the only man Ellie would die for, and he had Ellie's mind swinging like a fool.

"It's just that I miss you so much," Shaniece heard Ellie say. "And it's never been the same around here since you left."

Shaniece stood up and paced to calm her nerves. "You're twenty now, Ellie. You don't need me there hanging around–"

"I'm in Brandon and you're in Tampa. We're only a half hour away, but it feels as if we're worlds apart. I want to bring 'lil man and move there with you–"

"Are you out of your mind? No way!"

"What's wrong with us comin' to Tampa to live with you?"

Shaniece searched for the words to say without crushing her sister's heart, which had been delicate all her life. "Ellie, you know that I love you and that I would do anything for you and your son, but this is one thing I can't do, at least; not now–"

"Why?"

Because when you see Leroy you will lose your senses and botch my entire plan. Your meeting with Leroy has to be planned to happen at the right moment. "Please, don't put me on the spot like that," Shaniece said.

"Why are you treatin' me this way?" Ellie cried. "I feel like you're tryin' to get rid of me..."

"Ellie, don't say crazy things like that. I'm doing the best I can, helping you pay the bills. I don't under–"

"I don't want your stinkin' money! I want my sister! Why can't you understand that?"

Shaniece's heart began to melt. Their mother overdosed on heroin when Ellie was four and by the time that she'd turned six; their father had gotten locked up for pushing drugs on the street. Ever since then, Shaniece had played the role of mother to both Ellie and their brother. And if Ellie knew their brother was now living in Tampa as well and that he was in on Shaniece's plan, she would go ballistic.

"Give me a little time, Ellie. Let me think some things through and I promise I'll get back to you."

"You're not just sayin' that to get me off your back, are you?"

"Have you ever known me to lie to you?"

"No, Shanny. But how long do you need?"

"I don't know, Ellie." Shaniece sat back down in front of her DVD player, turning it off. "Just give me some time and I will make a decision. Sounds fair?"

"I don't know how much more of this loneliness I can take. And these thugs around here are getting crazier every day. I don't want 'lil man growing up in this environment..."

"I know, Ellie, believe me, I know. Now kiss my nephew for me and I promise to be in touch."

"Please, Shanny, don't make me have to track you down."

## Chapter Nineteen

"Oh hi, Dominic!" A'moree acted surprised to see him, although Sanchez had already told her that Dominic was coming over. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm guessing your brother didn't tell you."

A'moree smiled deviously. "Sanchez tells me a lot of things, but by the way you're strutting these sexy legs, I assume you guys are going to the gym."

Dominic tightened his lips to control his blushing. A'moree had an agenda and he was not about to get himself mixed up in it. "Let that crazy brother of yours know that I'll be in my car waiting on him."

"He's not here."

"You're kidding me."

"You wanna come inside and take a look?"

Dominic ignored her by looking at his watch. "The youth forum starts in two hours. If we don't go now, he might as well forget it."

A'moree kept that winning smile on her face. "He's coming right back. He went to the store to get some milk for his protein shake. Why don't you come inside and wait 'til he gets back?"

"Nawh, I'm cool..."

"Alright, we'll just sit and talk in your car."

Dominic's smirk exploded into a laugh. He didn't see that one coming. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"

"I'm a Leo," she declared. "Which means I'm confident and ambitious."

"A little too confident, if I may add."

"It works for me. I've been this way all my life."

"Are most Bahamian women as shocking as you?"

A'moree giggled. "Shocking? That's a bad word, Dominic. You shouldn't describe a woman as shocking."

"Why is that a bad word?"

"Because you made it sound as if I'm appalling."

"You're right. I don't think you're appalling..."

"Then why won't you come inside?" she prodded, pouting her freshly painted lips at him. "Don't make me follow you to your car like a hungry little puppy."

Dominic had to smile. He'd never met any girl like A'moree. As young and as innocent as she appeared, there was something mysterious about her.

She folded her arms. "Well? What's it gonna be, gorgeous?"

Dominic shook a finger at her. "You see, it's those little things you say that make me wanna run for my life."

"Now, you're making me seem like a monster. You're a man of God, right?"

The question puzzled Dominic, but he tried not to show it. "That's what we call our pastor, but I have no problem being considered one as well."

"Good. That's why you have no reason to be afraid of anything," she said. "Especially not of a twenty-year-old virgin, opps, I mean female who loves Jesus just as much as you do."

Dominic felt certain parts of his body heating up and he knew it was due largely to the voice of his flesh, crying out to be satisfied by this voluptuous creature standing in front of him. But a long time ago, he'd made up his mind to reject the very thing his mentor had so presumptuously embraced. His decision was written in stone. He would not give in to another female, except the female that was to be his wife. He'd seen enough pain in his generation to know that he didn't want to lose his destiny for ten minutes of sexual euphoria.

"Come in, and have a seat, Dominic," A'moree said, shaking her head, still smiling. "I'm only messing with you."

"Don't sweat it. I'll wait around out here for several more minutes. He doesn't show, I'm gone."

"I don't get what you're so afraid of," she told him. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. I just want to talk; find out a little bit more about you..."

_That's how it always starts_ , Dominic thought to himself. He took a seat on one of the steps and then leaned his back against the rail. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"I don't like how you're treating me, Dominic. I'm not as tough as I appear." Closing the door, she stepped outside and sat down next to him. Her skirt was a little too short for his eyes, as it barely hid the smooth contours of her thighs.

"How far is the store?" he asked, making an excuse to regain his godly focus.

"I don't know," she purred. "I'm not from around here, remember?"

"Right."

She placed a hand on his knee and let it linger long enough to feel his muscles nervously contracting against her palm. "I know your momma is proud to have a fine-looking son like you," she said. "Do you have any brothers?"

"Nope. It's just me. My mother didn't want to have any more children with my biological father."

"Wow. That statement says a lot."

"Yes. My father died an alcoholic when I was eleven, he was a very abusive man who took everything to the next level, which of course, made my mother suffer continually for most of their marriage. I got my share, as well. We were in constant fear for our lives."

A'moree could tell it was a watered down version of his painful past. She gave him her complete attention at that point. "How sad, Dominic..."

"It doesn't matter now. I've gotten over most of it."

"My grandmother told me once that what don't kill you, only makes you stronger."

He smiled. "Grandmothers always know what to say."

"Not mine," A'moree giggled. "She only says nice things whenever I give her money. That woman is a trip."

Dominic wanted to tell A'moree that she had a cute laugh, but he was afraid she would get the wrong idea. "She sounds like fun."

"You'll change your mind after sitting with her for ten minutes."

"C'mon. She can't be that bad..."

"Yeah, right. Even now, she still quarrels with my mother for having two children with two different men. It doesn't matter that Sanchez and I are now adults."

"We don't get to choose our family," Dominic said as he looked away reflectively. "But my stepfather means the world to me."

"Oh, your mother remarried?"

"Yep. She married a preacher." He faced her to get a glimpse of her expression. "They pastor a church in Palm River, about forty minutes from here. The city of Tampa was officially divided into five geographical regions, encompassing North and South Tampa, West and East Tampa, and New Tampa–each overlapping with a respective City Council district. Palm River is a neighborhood of East Tampa..."

A'moree rolled her eyes and smiled at Dominic's attempt to impress her with his city's history. It worked. "No wonder you're such an obedient little boy. You couldn't escape hearing about Jesus, even if you were deaf."

He chuckled. "Well, my upbringing did play a huge role in my decision to become a Christian, but it's a personal choice. A matter of the heart, you know what I mean?"

A'moree grew quiet and thought about that for a second. His words pricked her, but she was too far gone in her messed up life for them to have any real effect. She rested her hands in her lap and then gave him a questioning look. "So why are you at Mount Moriah and not with them?"

"My parents? Now that's a good question." He pouted his lips in search of the right response. His stepfather had just asked him that question couple of weeks ago. He didn't have an answer then and he sure didn't have one now. "Believe me when I tell you it's a long story."

"Then I better get a little more comfortable," she said. "I love long stories."

"Unfortunately, I will have to tell you some other time. I have to leave. The youth f–"

"Forum is tonight," she finished for him. "Yes, I know. You said so a while ago. Can I come?"

"Are you playing with me?"

"Just tell me the time and I'll be ready."

Dominic felt his heart racing again. The thought of spending all this 'alone' time with A'moree was frightening. Thankfully, he came up with a way to change the subject. "I hope Sanchez is okay. He's been gone a long time. What store–"

"Listen Dominic, if you don't want me to come," she spat, "Then that's all you have to say. Don't mess with my emotions like that, turning it off and on."

"Are you for real?"

She stood up and waved him off. "Forget it. I hope the forum turns out to be a success."

"A'moree, come on..." He watched her hips sway angrily toward the door, which she slammed as soon as she hopped inside the apartment.

Her sudden change of mood left him reeling in confusion. If he'd known that she would have taken offense at such a small matter, he would have simply told her to be ready for seven o'clock. Now he felt like an idiot, and he wasn't exactly sure how to fix it. He stood up and slowly made his way down the steps. Once he got into his car, he texted Sanchez a brief message:

I guess no gym today. Call me as soon as you get this. I think I made your sister upset.

Sanchez held his phone in front of him and read the text, which meant Dominic had just left the premises. He waited a few more minutes and then made his way to the front of the house, where A'moree stood with her back against the door. Her smirk grew wider when she saw him.

"How did I do?" she asked him.

"Not bad. Not bad at all." He showed her Dominic's text. "You've got him thinkin' about you already."

"I want to get him to do more than that," she said, swiping her tongue over her lips. "He is so fine, Sanchez."

"You like nice things," he told her playfully. "Always going after the ones who are off limits. Let me warn you, though. You're not gonna get my boy to break easy. Number one, he's a Jesus freak. And two, you're runnin' competition with a woman he's loved for years."

A'moree grinned devilishly. "Well, you let me be the judge of that. All men have a weakness and I promise you I will find Dominic's – even if I have to stay here for another week."

## Chapter Twenty

Mount Moriah Youth Hall

"Welcome to the conclusion of our two-part series, ' _Friends with Benefits_ '," Tayah stated. She moved her eyes back and forth over the rows and rows of teens and twenty-somethings, who were packed together like sardines in a can. They thundered their applauses at her announcement. She was surprised at how excited they seemed, considering the drama that exploded at last week's session. Tonight was different, however, in that her usually calm self, was experiencing a major system crash. As the noise level grew, her words began tripping over each other inside her head.

"Let's run with it," Dominic whispered to her. "They're ready. No introduction. Let's hit the Q & A right away."

Tayah nodded her agreement before turning back to the crowd. "Who has a question?"

"I do." A white kid shot up his hand, twiddling his fat fingers in the air.

Tayah observed him, thinking to herself that he must be someone's guest. She'd never seen his face before in any of the forums. Then again, Mount Moriah had so many young people in the congregation that it was hard to keep track of who came and who left.

"One of the rules of the forum is that we require you to stand and speak into the microphone so that everyone can hear you."

"I have no problem with public speaking," he said, walking toward the podium with an air of confidence.

Tayah could see that. She handed him the microphone, praying she wouldn't regret giving it to him.

"Isn't Friends with Benefits a film with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis where they come to the conclusion that sex shouldn't come with so much emotional baggage?" The kid pointed at himself. "For me, I agree with them. I believe two friends could have a sexual relationship without being emotionally attached. It's sort of like casual sex. Casual sex is just that – casual. Meaning, friends or strangers, only 'do it' for physical satisfaction. This is my first time here, I was invited by Eric and Sean Paxton. Now, can you guys convince me why I should not hold strongly to my views?"

A chorus of oohs and aahs erupted from the crowd as the white kid bopped back to his seat between Sean and Eric, high-fiving them. Tayah shot them a warning stare. She should have known her brothers had pushed that poor boy to do the dirty work, which they themselves didn't have the guts to do. Her brothers were famous for making her sweat. They knew what she stood for, and yet, they chose to challenge her at every round. She wished Abraham were there to help her and Dominic.

"Okay, settle down everyone, settle down for a sec," Dominic said, as he moved his hand up and down in front of the crowd. "Let me get a word in..." He glanced at Tayah and gestured with his eyes that he was going to tackle the first question. He made eye contact with the white kid. "Mind if I ask your name?"

"Garvin!"

"Garvin?" Dominic wanted to confirm. "I must say, with an opening like that, I was tempted to call the fire engine."

The crowd laughed.

"But, it's cool. My young peeps here at Mount Moriah know I love a good challenge, and I hope by the end of this forum we'll leave here with a greater understanding of the subject we are discussing, and not more confused. Last week; Pastor Abraham went over a lot of stuff, but it would be good to do a short recap for those who weren't here. So let's just jump into it. No holding back. Tayah and I are excited to hear from you and to share what we know. This question I'm about to ask comes right on the heels of Garvin's courageous opening." He paused for a second, taking in their anticipatory expressions. "What do you think is the reasoning behind this growing phenomenon – 'Friends with Benefits'?"

Suddenly it got dead quiet in the room; some were twisting their necks to see who would be the first to burst the dam open.

"C'mon," Dominic pushed. "Let's not all talk at once. Several minutes ago, you guys had this place buzzing."

"Okay, I have one," someone said. "Convenience. We mentioned last week that two people don't have to go through the whole process of getting to know each other, or trying to impress each other, because they are already friends. If they need a 'fix', they just pick up the phone and call. Paraphrasing..."

"That's good enough," Dominic said and then added, "In essence, the whole farce of flirting is taken out of the game. They're friends and have been friends for a long time, which somehow provides that sense of comfort."

"Which spells danger," someone else said. "I don't want to have sex with someone I'm too comfortable with. They'd be like family to me and that is just gross. That's incest, I think."

"That's not incest, stupid," another joined in. "Hypothetically, I certainly would prefer to be comfortable. Saves time."

"Man, you guys are missing the real point of all this," Garvin said, sitting up. "It's sex with no strings attached. That's what it's all about. I said it a few minutes ago. Who cares about being comfortable? People want easy sex without all this emotional crap. Having sex in a car is not comfortable at all."

Tayah frowned at how Garvin made light of such a serious issue. She decided to jump in at this point. "But how do you not grow more attached to the person you're being intimate with? When sex is involved it is near impossible to keep your emotions out of it."

"I speak on behalf of 'us' men," Garvin said, grinning, high-fiving Sean and Eric. "We are only focused on the benefits. That's the arrangement 'we' men agreed to..."

"And it's obvious 'we' women focus more on the friendship," Tayah said, giving Garvin and her brothers a disapproving look. If she had her way, she would have separated those three, far away from each other. "That's where a lot of the problems start. It seems as if women always end up getting the bad end of the stick. Maybe because we're wired differently, and we tend to express ourselves in ways that sometimes don't make a bit of sense even to us. I admit we are emotional and most of us are crybabies – occasionally challenged by our insecurities and low self-esteem."

Several young girls nodded their heads in agreement.

"On the flip side," Tayah continued, "most would agree that men are more physically oriented, and highly visual. Their emotions are not easily moved, or at least they are pros at suppressing them. So when a woman becomes intimate with a man, eventually her heart gets involved. She may not expect this to happen at the initial stage of the agreement, but as long as she remains intimate with that man, her emotions are bound to surface."

Tayah paused and looked at Dominic, who subtly encouraged her to stay in the flow. She was passionate about what she did and he didn't see the need to interrupt her at the moment.

"Now," Tayah continued, "the statement I'm about to make means no disrespect to men in general, because I believe that a few good, decent men still exist, but only God knows where they are–"

Smiles materialized on faces across the room at Tayah's offbeat humor.

"I'm kidding, of course, I'm married to a great man," she said. "But seriously, just take a look at our sex-driven culture today. Would most of you agree that it is easy for a guy to take a woman to bed, and then walk away without looking back?"

"I disagree," an Oriental-looking boy said. He had a heavy accent and appeared to be no more than twenty years in age. "I think girls are cruel, and mean, and they never know what in the world they want."

"That's a strong statement, buddy," Dominic said, taking several steps forward on the platform, standing next to Tayah. "What do you mean by that?"

"Girls never stay with me. They always leave when I wake up. They never call back either."

Those lines, irrespective of how grave the confession was, didn't go over too well and in response, the crowd threw their heads back in laughter.

"This is no joke," the young boy spat. "Girls are worse than us!"

"Impossible! Something's probably wrong with you, man." Garvin said, directing his attention to the entire audience. "Not even one stayed? All left? Man, I sure wouldn't like to be your shoes..."

The crowd laughed even harder, prompting Dominic to take charge of the noise. "Okay, let us be more respectful. We didn't come here to make fun, or to pick on each other. This is not what this forum is all about–"

"Dominic's right," Tayah interrupted. "I'm a bit disappointed by the way some of you are behaving tonight, taking a very serious issue, and making light of it. Some of you may never see the harm in this, but I simply believe that this 'Friends with Benefits' agreement, or arrangement, or whatever you call it is purely a disguise for friends using each other for selfish reasons, which strictly goes against the principles of Christian living. If you are striving to be a Christian, I feel this should be of no interest to you. Your focus should be on trying to please the one you've made Lord over your life."

"Okay, I get that," Garvin said, fighting to keep that smirk of his face. "Your opinion applies to those 'trying' to be Christians. What about those who don't care about being Christians? As far as I'm concerned, I don't see anything wrong with two friends wanting to make whatever agreement they want. It's their business and no one has the right to tell them what to do. Who cares whether it works or not?"

"And you know what? I hear you, man," Dominic said. "But the real world doesn't always work like that, does it? There has to be a right way and a wrong way of doing something. There are always consequences for our actions, and sometimes we pay dearly if we fail to make good choices with our lives. And no matter which way you spin it, people get hurt in the process. Listen man, I'm no guru on the subject. I am only twenty-four, but I had a difficult childhood and I've done some things I'm not proud of. And up to this point in my life, I'm still wrestling with some things that simply don't make sense to me. I am a Christian, but that doesn't mean 'we' Christians have it all figured out. Man, I still have challenges with thinking the right things sometimes, especially when I see a well-put-together female walk by..."

A wave of chuckles rose from the crowd.

"Hey, I'm serious," Dominic smiled. "But I'm careful to make decisions that will affect my future for the good. I learned the hard way, but I survived and I'm depending on the grace of God to take me throughout the course of my journey. I try not to judge others, but somehow this is still a big problem for me. Matthew Chapter 7 tells me, _Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. For you will be treated as you treat others_. Words like that would make me think twice. I said all of that to say this; none of us is perfect, but we must strive to make choices to better our lives and not choices that will destroy it. Personally, I think..."

As Dominic went on, pacifying the crowd with his easy-going style, Tayah took that time to observe him. Her eyes were incessantly drawn to his taste in fashion, loving the way his cyan patterned shirt matched his dark denims. His clothing not only matched, but it also hugged his sturdy frame in all the right places. It was a fleeting assessment, but she'd caught enough and could tell his gym workouts were paying off. Soon she became conscious of her thoughts, which she wasted no time rebuking. _I can't believe I'm lusting at this man's body. And he's not even my husband! Lord, please forgive me...stay holy, Tayah, stay holy_.

More importantly, she appreciated Dominic's ability to stay focused, despite his disappointment with his mentor. Nonetheless, Abraham would have been proud of him tonight. He handled himself well and she would be sure to tell him so, especially pointing out his choice of scripture. That showed he had some level of maturity and that he was still willing to believe the best about Abraham, even though his perception of the man had been severely tested the last couple of days.

For her, that scored huge points with her heart. She admired a man who had the capacity to think things through, to examine a situation even when the situation didn't suit his taste. Thankfully, she perceived, none of it seemed to affect Dominic's out-going spirit.

"...once you crossed that line," Dominic was saying while turning to Tayah. "The old dynamic of that friendship is lost. There is no going back. Tayah you want to add something?"

"And ruin the mood? No way," she said, flashing a smile at him. "Let's just stand and say a word of prayer."

9:27 p.m.

Brenda hurried to her station to answer Leroy's page on the church's intercom system. She'd slipped away to the coffee machine for a third refill after he announced that tonight was going to be a long night. A group of pastors and their entourage was flying in from the Bahamas tomorrow and last minute preparations were being handled by the Administration office. Leroy had gotten the schedule mixed up, assuming they'd been booked to come the following weekend. Resting her 'I love you Jesus' mug on the desk; she pushed down on a red button and spoke with a sense of urgency.

"Sorry, sir, I had to get a cup of coffee–"

"Brenda, do me a favor. As soon as the youth forum concludes, have Dominic come into my office."

"Most certainly. I will let him know, sir."

"And have you gotten a hold of Abraham? He's not picking up any of his phones."

"No sir, but I will keep trying."

"Don't trouble yourself, Brenda. Thank you."

9:49 p.m.

"Come in Dominic and have a seat," Leroy said. "I've been trying to catch up with you since Sunday."

Dominic studied Leroy as he pulled out a velvet-covered chair and eased down on it. The last time he sat in Leroy's office was when he found out he'd been promoted to Youth Advisor to Abraham. Maybe this time he was about to be slapped upside the head with a demotion– his punishment for creating that scene at the organ.

"I could hear your heart pumping through your chest," Leroy said. "Relax, man. I don't intend to keep you long. How have you been?"

"Busy with classes and everything," Dominic said, endeavoring to absorb Leroy's piercing stare. "You know how it is; it's nearing the end of the semester."

"I was once there," Leroy smiled. "It could become quite a bit of a challenge. When are your exams?"

"In two weeks. So you know my face is dropping in the books every night."

"That's what's required, my boy. Hard work. It sets you apart for greatness."

"Yes sir, I believe in hard work..."

"Just look at this edifice we've built," Leroy said, spreading his hands open. "It's a symbol of dedication and commitment. I never imagined things would have turned out this way. When I inherited the church from my father, its membership staggered within the low hundreds, with a building that couldn't hold more than five hundred persons. Now, we have to split the congregation into two services."

_You have Shaniece to thank for that_ , Dominic thought. "I agree. The membership has exploded since I've started coming here."

"And you haven't seen anything yet, my boy. I have great plans in store for this congregation. In short order we'll be launching our very own school of Theology. I'll be flying out to Pittsburg soon to ratify the final documents..."

Why is he telling me this? He's beating around the bush. Why doesn't he just come out and say what is really bugging him? "That's impressive. Mount Moriah is keeping up with the twenty first century."

"Yes, we are quickly becoming the church of choice," Leroy said, gradually giving in to a few seconds of silence. He kept his eyes glued to Dominic in a way that told Dominic he was about to be put up on the stand. "So, tell me, how's the mentor program going with Pastor Abraham?"

_Bam_! _There it was. The real reason why he was summoned to Leroy's office_. "It's working out I guess," Dominic said, praying his words didn't reveal his true emotions. "I haven't been going to the sessions lately; you know, classes and all–"

"Yes, you said so. Are you certain that's all there is to it?"

"Yes..."

"I saw you jump off the organ on Sunday and it concerned me. Are you sure everything's well?"

No, everything's not well. Your right hand man is sleeping around with prostitutes. "Yes, I'm sure. I had a crazy morning that day, but I'm okay now."

"Good, glad to know." Leroy extended his right hand toward Dominic. "I'm a man of my word. I don't see the need to keep you any longer. We're done here."

10:10 p.m.

"Girl, I thought you were gone a long time. What you still hanging around here for?" Dominic said to Tayah as he returned to the auditorium.

"I thought you were gone too." Tayah ended the call on her BlackBerry to give Dominic her full attention. "I'm waiting on Phillip to come. And I've been trying to reach him, but his phone seems to be off."

"What happened to your car?"

"Phillip has it. His car is down."

"Well, I can give you a ride home if you want."

"That's kind of you, Dominic, but Phillip should soon be here."

Dominic folded his arms, and shot Tayah one of those sarcastic stares he was famous for.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"How long have you been waiting out here?"

"Not long–"

"C'mon, girl. Your man shouldn't have you standing out here in the wind like this. He should have been here twenty minutes early with the AC piping."

"You seem hurt."

"Of course I am. What do you expect me to say? I outta' knock some sense into that bastard."

Tayah was failing miserably at suppressing her smile. "Must you show your hatred so blatantly for a man who hasn't done anything to you?"

_He took you from me_ ," Dominic thought, as he playfully shook his fists at Tayah. "Oooh, I had to ask the Holy Ghost to hold my tongue. Don't push me, girl. I wanna stay saved. Stay here, I'll bring my car around and show Phillip how his woman should be treated."

Same Time

Everywhere was dark; as far as their eyes could see. The plan was to make the warehouse, which listlessly sat behind a string of railroad tracks, appear as if it'd been abandoned. They'd cut the power source, and had jogged back to their hiding spot.

"I don't know why I allow you to pull me into foolishness," Dee whispered, stooping down next to Phillip, who was in Tayah's Champaign-color Nissan Altima. "If I'd known we'd be killed tonight; I would have left my mother a note."

"Shhh, stop rambling," Phillip told her.

"I'm not rambling. I'm talking sense. Who's gonna find our bodies way out here behind these railroad tracks? We're in the back of God's back."

"This is only gonna take a minute. Then we're on our way to get a drink."

"Drink? What I'm gonna do with a bloody drink with a bullet up my forehead?"

"Shush it, girl! They're here."

Several yards ahead, a black caddy glided by and stopped in front of the warehouse. The neon lights emanating from beneath the car confirmed to Phillip that the man in the car was Vell Gordon, with whom he'd been transacting business over the phone for the last two years; he was one of his largest financiers. Vell Gordon had come for his money.

"What if they recognize us sitting here?" Dee said, nervously peeking at the scene in front of her.

"They will if you keep up this crazy yapping," Phillip spat. "Relax. We'll be on our way soon."

Phillip was right. The black caddy didn't stay long. No one had even attempted to get out the vehicle, and just as it had glided in front of them, it glided away from them and out of sight into the black night.

Phillip sat up and spun the engine. "Let's get the heck out of here. I have a feeling that they will be back."

10:30 p.m.

"Turn up the volume," Tayah squealed. "This is our theme song for this year's volunteer banquet."

Dominic crinkled his brows as he swerved over to the left lane to enter I-275. "We Are The World? You've got to be kidding me. You're getting wound-up about this song?"

"Of course, you are so cruel. Who doesn't love this song? Everybody loves them some Michael." Her voice hit the first chord way off key, which starkly reminded Dominic of his experience with A'moree. "Come on, turn it up, turn it up..."

"Okay, only if you promise you won't sing along with it. Your voice is dreadful."

Tayah blinked away her astonishment. "You did not just go there, Mr. Dominic Housten."

"Stay in your calling. Trust me; I'm only helping you out."

Tayah chuckled. "You bet. You just love being mean to me, that's all that is."

"Mean? I offered you a ride, didn't I? Without me you would have been standing outside all by your lonesome self."

That last line struck a chord with Tayah, so much so that it wiped that toothy smile right off her face.

"Me and my stupid mouth," Dominic had an apology written all over his face. "I didn't mean it how it came out."

"I meant to tell you that you were great with the youth tonight," she said, making an attempt to change the subject. "I thought you showed a sense of maturity in your delivery."

"I'm sorry for what I said..."

"I know you don't think the world of Abraham right now, but he would have been proud of you."

"Tayah..."

"You handled yourself like a true champ–"

Dominic turned down the volume on the radio, searching for the right words to say to the woman who was supposed to have been his wife. "C'mon, girl, talk to me. I know something's messing with your mind."

She placed a hand over her face, willing her tears to remain where they were and not embarrass her by rushing down her cheeks. She couldn't believe her husband had taken her car and left her stranded on the church grounds. He hadn't a shred of courtesy. At least, he could have called and let her know what was going on.

"What if something happened to him?" she said finally.

"I know that's your husband, but don't make excuses for him, Tayah."

"I'm not making excuses for him–"

"Yes, you are, and it peeves the heck out of me – because of the way he's treating you. You don't deserve this. He must be out of his mind. Any man would kill to have a woman like you."

Somehow, Dominic's words gave her the comfort she sought, and despite her efforts to hold her tears at bay, they trickled through the spaces between her fingers. "Dominic, I love him so much. I truly love my husband. I just don't understand why he's doing this to me. Every night, he comes home past midnight and says he's been working late, but I know he's not telling me the truth. We get into it and we argue all night. In the morning, he gets up and leaves before I wake..."

Dominic clenched his teeth as he listened to Tayah pour out her heart to him. How had Tayah gotten herself hitched to a heartless prick like Phillip? She was so not his type. Her life was being wasted over that fool. And sitting, listening to the pain in her voice –the one woman who would have been the right fit for him, was pushing all of the wrong buttons in him. The way he felt at the moment, only the hands of God could stop him from clubbing Phillip upside the head.

About twenty miles later, he eased his car to a stop in front of a two-story condominium. Everything was nicely manicured. He killed the engine, cracking open the windows. By that time, however, Tayah's sobs had diminished to quiet sniffling.

"I am so embarrassed," she said. "I don't know what came over me."

"This is me, Tayah. You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"You're a good friend, Dominic, but I shouldn't have burdened you with my problems like that." She looked through the window, noticing that the space where she normally parked her car was empty. "He's not even home."

"I'm not surprised. Do you want me to wait?"

"Are you crazy? I don't need to be caught in the middle of anything tonight. You know how Phillip feels about our friendship."

"Why did you marry him, Tayah? And I don't believe it's because you love him."

"What other reason is there? Please, don't hurt your head over this one, Dominic. I'll be fine."

"Really? Somehow, I don't believe you."

"You don't have a choice," Tayah told him.

As soon as she disappeared behind the walls of her home, Dominic's phone buzzed, indicating someone had just sent him a text. He didn't recognize the number, but it was quite obvious who it was after he read the first line –

Hi, gorgeous. I'm just apologizing for acting like a moron earlier. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I pray you won't hold this one against me. By the way, I'm a swim instructor. I was thinking, maybe I could make this up to you somehow...call me, boo.

_Boo_? Trouble, trouble, trouble. That was the only thing that crossed Dominic's mind as he joined the light traffic heading north to I-75. Spending time with A'moree was like a disaster waiting to happen. He loved his boy Sanchez, but as long as his sister stayed in his place, Sanchez wouldn't be seeing much of Dominic.

## Chapter Twenty-One

Thursday Mid-Morning

Abraham's eyes popped open to the clamor of the phone, which sounded strikingly similar to his alarm clock. It was a noise he detested, but he'd chosen the ring tone for that very purpose – so that it would irritate him. If the noise had been pleasant, he would have kept on snoozing, paying it no mind. He grabbed up the phone, still incoherent from last night's activities.

"Abraham? Have you just gotten up? It's almost ten o'clock."

"Lady Paxton, forgive me. What do you need me to do?"

"Get dressed and pick me up in about an hour. There's something that I need to discuss with you."

"Certainly, I'll be there. Will your husband need me, as well?"

"He's left for the office already, said something about some guests coming in from the Bahamas. He tried reaching you. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Well, okay then, I will see you in an hour."

Abraham didn't like the tone in Michelle's voice, which somehow took his nerves by surprise. She rarely called him to discuss anything. All of the discussing was done by Leroy, but lately, things had been volatile between those two and he had to wonder if this had anything to do with Shaniece Bryant. Of course, it did. It was the only reason why they fought. He pushed himself up in the bed and then tossed his feet to the floor, unintentionally removing the covers from the naked body next to him.

"Abraham," Honey's voice dragged. "It's cold. It's cold..."

"Shhhh, go back to sleep," he told her, recovering her body as gently as he handled her. "I'll be out for a few hours."

"Do what you want, Abraham, but I won't be here when you get back."

"Then, I'll come looking for you," he said, "I am a persistent man."

She grunted. "Suit yourself. Why do you even try? You know that I don't love you."

"It doesn't matter. One day you will." He leaned down over her and pressed his lips against her slender back, savoring the warmth of her skin. He felt torn leaving her alone, but his services were required elsewhere. He'd vowed to make his life available to the Paxtons. "While I'm gone, keep the doors locked and don't let anyone in."

She yanked the covers over her head and pretended as if Abraham had given the walls those instructions.

By the time that Abraham had pulled the Escalade in front of the grand mansion, Michelle was already standing outside with her purse on her left arm. She was smartly dressed in a navy blue pants suit, which she only wore when she was about to do business outside of town. Her ebony curls were pinned up into a messy, but stylish twist, leaving a few strands to float over her face. The Ray-Ban shades that were latched over her eyes told Abraham that she was a woman on a mission.

"Where to?" he said to her after she'd climbed into the front seat.

"Brandon," was all she said.

"As in Brandon, Florida?"

"My dear Abraham, I didn't stammer."

Once they'd cleared the traffic on Fletcher Avenue, cutting right to the Interstate, Michelle made her purpose known to Abraham.

"Say nothing of this to Leroy," she said. "Can I trust you to do that?"

Abraham looked at her through the corner of his eyes, not certain how he should respond. If her safety appeared to be in jeopardy, of course, Leroy would be the first to know. "You can trust me," he said quietly.

"You're such a wonderful, man, Abraham. How would we ever make it without you?"

Abraham sidestepped the accolade with a question, "I assume this has to do with the 'incident'?"

She pressed her lips into a tight line and then said, "Yes. I know it's almost been five years, but I still have a lot questions." She took the hotel receipt out of her purse and held it up at Abraham. "I found this on the kitchen floor. Must have fallen out of his portfolio yesterday morning."

"What is it?"

"A receipt from that Holiday Inn Express."

"What's the significance? We both know Leroy is always in and out of hotels."

"So it seems..."

"C'mon, is it worth torturing yourself this way?"

"You don't want to read it? Fine." She stuffed the receipt back into her purse, snapping it shut. She pulled off her shades, revealing the eyes of a woman who'd had her share of pain. "My dear Abraham, the receipt is almost five years old. It is the exact date of the incident."

"It could mean anything."

"What is it with you men? You act as if we are so out of touch with reality. I don't care what you interpret this to mean. My instincts tell me that this is not a coincidence."

"Things are not always what they seem–"

"I've known Leroy for almost thirty years, and I've never seen him act this way before. He refuses to get rid of that woman as his assistant. He's quick to take her side over mine, and would rather see me being humiliated Sunday after Sunday than to put an end to this wretched situation...."

"Is this what this is all about? Your dislike of Shaniece?"

"Oh please, don't insult me, Abraham! You know exactly what's going on. Those two are always in the corner chatting it up as if they can't get enough of each other. And every time that I call, she's always in his office. I can't even bring her name up in a conversation without us having a brawl about it. And you think I'm being unreasonable or paranoid?"

Abraham took the Brandon exit, which would take them right in front of the Sherriff's Office. When they'd slowed to a traffic light, he turned his head toward her, "Lady Paxton, I care deeply for you and your husband. I fear that you will do something you will regret. Please, think about what you're about to do."

"I've been doing that for the last five years. I'm surprised I've even waited this long. I've made up my mind, Abraham." She looked away, readjusting her shades against her eyes. "I need to know why Leroy was in Brandon the day that I was in Chicago. It's the place where our problems started."

Fifteen Minutes Later

"Detective Samuels, how are you?" Michelle placed her delicate hand into the massive palms of a white man and immediately remembered how his handshake made her feel overpowered. "Thanks for receiving us on such short notice."

"Mrs. Paxton, you're welcome as always. It's an open door policy around here." He noticed Abraham trailing several feet behind with a cell phone attached to his ear. He beckoned to him as soon as he got his attention. "Mr. Winder, come, follow me to my office."

The last time that Michelle had visited Detective Samuels, he'd told her that they'd come to a dead end in her husband's case. There were no leads; no new information; no movement at all in the right direction. Five years was a long time. Her husband's shooter could be anywhere at the moment, possibly six feet under the earth.

"What can I do for you today?" Samuels plunged in his chair and then spread his hands before them.

"I don't know," Michelle said, sharing a glance with Abraham. "Obviously, we're here concerning my husband's case."

Samuels shifted his eyes to Abraham and then back to Michelle. "Does your husband know that you're here?"

"No, he doesn't know. We were in the area."

Michelle smiled and patted Abraham's hand as if to say she was capable of handling whatever question was thrown out at her. "Thank you, Abraham, but that's not entirely true, detective."

"Which part?" His expression showed he had no interest in a case that he considered to be as cold as the air in his freezer. "Mrs. Paxton, I'll be honest with you. There's no one actively working on your husband's files."

"But, you guys haven't found the person who shot my husband," Michelle said, taken aback by the detective's nonchalant attitude. "What do you mean there's no one working on it?"

"We review them once a month, but there's nothing to go on, Mrs. Paxton," Samuels explained. "Your husband doesn't remember much of anything and the only thing we have is a ballistics report on the gun that was used in the attack. You should be grateful your husband made it through that life-threatening ordeal."

"Of course, I'm grateful." Michelle was beginning to regret the visit. "But just because he survived the gunshot, doesn't mean his shooter should get away with it. Only God knows how many other people the attacker has hurt..."

"What do you want us to do? Your husband wants nothing to do with the investigation, which I find pretty strange, but we've done all that we can with the little that we have. It's been five years. Whatever evidence we did not get collected in that first forty-eight hours, we sure won't be able to do so now."

"Someone had to have seen something," Abraham said. "The ambulance wouldn't have responded as quickly as it did without someone giving the dispatcher the exact location. I understood they arrived on the scene within three minutes of the shooting."

"We have worked that angle back and forth," Samuels said. "We came up empty handed. The call was made from a pay phone in the area."

Michelle searched her bag for the receipt she'd tried to show Abraham when they were on the interstate. "What do you make of this?" she asked Samuels, handing it to him. "I found this on my kitchen floor. It may have dropped out of my husband's portfolio..."

Samuels slipped on his glasses, examined it and then looked back at her. "It's a hotel receipt."

"Yes, but did you notice the date on it?"

"I did, but what's your point?"

"Detective Samuels, this proves my husband had paid for a one night stay, several hours before his attack. He told us he'd gone to Brandon for a meeting that should have only lasted a few hours. He was scheduled to be home by 3 p.m. to pick up the boys from school. I was in Chicago around that time."

"So?"

"So?" Michelle shot Samuels an exasperated look. "Obviously, you're not getting what I'm trying to say."

"Of course I get it, Mrs. Paxton," Samuels told her. "Your husband lied to you. He lied to us and you're assuming he knows more about this ordeal than he's admitting."

"I don't know, but that's why we're here," Michelle said, hoping Abraham shared her growing frustration.

"Let's just say if there is a small chance you're right, without your husband's assistance, we'll still be going around in circles. For the past five years, his story has remained the same." Samuels stood up, as if he were ready to end their meeting. "Before a police department pumps money into investigating cold cases, there must be some solvability factors in the playing field. I wouldn't normally suggest something like this, but another option is to hire a private investigator."

When Michelle looked to Abraham for his opinion, she could tell from the look in his eyes that he had already flushed the idea down the toilet. Leroy would not forgive Michelle if he discovered she'd hired someone to poke around in his personal life. Surely, it would be the end of their marriage.

"Thanks for your time," Abraham said as he stood up to shake Samuels' hand. "You've given us something to think about. After you, Lady Paxton."

## Chapter Twenty-Two

Tayah tried to lose herself in her work so that she didn't have to face her troubling thoughts. Her presentation was due later that afternoon and she was not feeling up to it. The only thing she wanted to do was hide from her problems, and crawl into a corner and feel sorry for herself. But she was not the type of person who pitied their circumstance. Her analytical brain wouldn't allow her to settle for obscurity and confusion.

She was the type who painstakingly examined every decision of her life, processing each step in hopes of producing a mental summation of why things were not working out as planned. Her approach generally worked, and she couldn't remember having any major setbacks, but within the last three years of her marriage she'd been forced to eat her words – hook, line, and sinker. Now, everything around her seemed obscured and confused.

Dominic's words kept hammering at her brain, which now felt more of a torment than a feeling of comfort, "...it peeves the heck out of me over the way he's treating you. You don't deserve this. He must be out of his mind. Any man would kill to have a woman like you..."

_Any man would kill to have a woman like me_ , she repeated in her mind. What was Dominic implying? That she'd made the wrong decision in marrying Phillip? That he (Dominic) would have been the better choice? What made Dominic think his judgment was accurate? If he'd been so serious about his love for her, why hadn't he asked her to marry him when he'd had the opportunity? Now all of a sudden he was 'peeved' over the way her husband appeared to be treating her. That alone told her Dominic was not ready to handle her. He couldn't make up his mind, which she couldn't deal with in a man. She couldn't tell if she was angry at herself or angry at Dominic for not telling her how strongly he felt before Phillip's proposal.

"Excuse me, Tayah Benjamin?"

Tayah snapped her head up from her laptop, setting her eyes on a man holding a huge arrangement of white lilies. "Aren't those supposed to go to the hospital?" she asked, bringing to mind the festival's keynote speaker who was in critical condition at Tampa General. But then she thought, she'd ordered roses, not lilies.

"It says delivery for Tayah Benjamin. Where do you want me to put them?"

"I'm sorry," she said, indicating a spot on her desk. "You can put them here."

"Okie dokie put your Jane Henry on this line and I'll be on my way..."

Jane Henry? Tayah thought. Wasn't it John Henry? Was he trying to be funny? She scribbled her name, giving in to her curiosity. Who would send me flowers at two o'clock in the afternoon? And not just any flowers, but the expensive kind, the kind that only needed one word to describe them. Exquisite...

"Thank you," she whispered, as the deliveryman backed out of her office.

She took the card from its plastic holder, supposing the flowers must be from her husband. His way of saying he was sorry. They'd had another hurtful exchange last night after he'd crawled into the bed next to her, giving her some lame excuse about why he'd forgotten to pick her up at the church.

They'd gone to bed angry, and they'd gotten up this morning, refusing to speak to each other – something her grandmother would certainly look down upon. Husband and wife should never go to bed upset with each other, she would say. One never knew where death was, which served as a warning to those who refused to make peace before it was too late.

_Last night was an exception_ , Tayah thought, as she bent to smell the lilies, thinking the least Philip could have done was to stop by on his lunch break and apologize in person.

The card read: " _Just Because_..."

She then read whom it was from: "The one you can share anything with, Dominic."

" _Dominic_?" It took a second for Tayah to realize that the lilies were not from her husband. _That bastard_. She was slapped with two different feelings at once – she was disappointed because she felt neglected by the man that she'd pledged her life to, who obviously was oblivious to her needs as his wife. But, she also felt confused because she didn't know what to make of Dominic's intention. Was it simply a friendly gesture or was Dominic being an opportunist? He knew she was vulnerable at this point in her life and to send her flowers only added to the mayhem of her mind.

Her BlackBerry vibrated on her desk, letting her know she'd just received a message of some sort. She accidentally clicked on an old message from Ian Laing, which read:

Hi Tayah, just letting you know the MLK Leadership Breakfast has been rescheduled to this Saturday – seven o'clock sharp at Embassy Suites on Fowler. We found a replacement for our keynote speaker who, unfortunately, still is in critical condition. Please get out the communication on this. Cheers!

Thank God that she'd clicked on that message, because she had totally forgotten about it. That meant she had to prepare for two events this coming Saturday, which was okay, because one was in the morning and the other was in the evening. The next message was from Dominic.

Hey girl, I hope you're smiling right now. I know lilies are your favorite. Let's meet for lunch somewhere.

_Smiling_? _Why would he think I'd be smiling_? she thought, as she pondered over how she would reply to Dominic's text. After she'd spilt her guts to him last night, humiliating herself in the process, she didn't want to face him any time soon.

The lilies are nice. Thanks, but you shouldn't have gone overboard like that. Phillip will have a fit if I take them home. Sorry, but we can't do lunch today. My presentation is due in an hour. I'll try to call you later.

She read it a few times before she hit the send button, hoping he didn't read between the lines.

I'm cool with that. Give me a call when you have some free time. Just thought you should know, though, I don't have an agenda; just want to see you happy.

He had read between the lines, she thought.

Thanks for understanding. But I really will call you when I'm done with my presentation.

Don't sweat it; I believe you.

****

Dominic shoved his phone back into its case, just as his instructor slammed the results of his mock exam on his desk. He turned over the booklet and smiled, pleased, or should he say relieved, with the score he'd worked so hard to achieve. He could hear Leroy's voice echoing inside his brains, "... _that's what's required, my boy. Hard work. It sets you apart for greatness_." He agreed wholeheartedly.

The real test would be in two weeks, which would separate the jokers from those who meant business. But he felt fairly confident that he would do well. He wasn't the type of student who waited until the last minute to cram, which was his acronym for, _Cranium Receives Acute Meltdown_. He never understood how the other students did it, but to each his own. He would rather have the knowledge to help him embrace the future, than to have a couple of memorized answers for a one-hour exam.

For now, all he had to do was continue to practice the accounting equations on the syllabus and review his notes on Taxation. He pretty much understood the concept of what he was doing. One more year and he'd be making those proud steps toward the podium to receive his B.A. in Applied Accounting. The way that he felt now, he hoped he would get the opportunity to celebrate with Tayah before the day was out. It was nice to know she loved the flowers. He would have sent her the entire store, just to show her much he cared about her happiness.

He doubted that Phillip was that thoughtful, as he'd blatantly shown by the way he'd left his wife stranded on the church premises – that was just downright heartless. What real man would forget a woman like Tayah? He should want to spend every waking moment with that beauty, never letting her get out of his sight. It just showed that Phillip wasn't a real man, Dominic thought. He'd always gotten a bad vibe from that fellow anyway, and Dominic knew it had nothing to do with what he felt for Tayah.

****

Palm River had seen its share of troubles. The highest concentration of criminals in the area were juveniles, mostly involved in heavy drug trafficking and carjacking. Prostitutes roamed the residential streets and some were often picked up by police in front of people's driveways.

As Dominic slowed his Honda Prelude to a traffic light, he looked at the dilapidated buildings that made the neighborhood resemble a clip out of a horror movie. He suddenly had a newfound respect for his mother and stepfather, who had the guts to stay in the area to pastor people who were looked down upon. To operate a church in this part of town; one had better possess not only the grace of God, but also His supernatural protection.

Dominic parked his car in front of a whitewashed wooden structure, got out, and then carefully climbed the rickety steps. He drove to this shelter every Thursday, after his two o'clock class, to help feed the hungry, who'd grown accustomed to the daily hot meals served there. As soon as he got inside the shelter, his stepfather threw him an apron. Rufus Claiborne took his work seriously and had done an excellent job instilling that message in his stepson.

"Put that on and get to work," he told him. "Take a look out there, the line has wrapped around to the back."

"I noticed as I was coming up," Dominic said. "You're tackling this by yourself? Where's mum?"

"She'll be back, she went to get some more bowls."

"This is our biggest crowd yet," Dominic said, as he poured a portion of lentil soup into a waiting bowl. "Soon, you guys won't be able to operate from this shelter."

"Son, we're praying for more space," Rufus said. "But you know – to get things done in this district is like putting the cart before the horse. Everything's done backwards around here. Here..."

"What's this?" Dominic said, inspecting the folded envelope, which he noticed was bound tightly with a red rubber band.

"Jill wanted you to have it. Actually; both of us wanted you to have it." Rufus kept busy serving, only taking a quick glance to catch the reaction of the boy he'd called son for the last ten years. "Come on now, keep pouring that soup. You'll have plenty of time to look at it later."

Dominic quickly figured it out; he knew what it was. Rufus had been talking about dying a lot lately. He was three years from seventy, but appeared as fit as a forty-five-year-old. Dominic couldn't imagine him leaving them any time soon. "This is your will, isn't it?"

"Not now, son," he said, turning away to acknowledge Jill as she charged through the back door. "Well, here she comes with all that speed. Always in a hurry..."

"Oh stop complainin' old man." Jill landed a wet kiss on Dominic's cheek, and then tossed the grocery bags on the table behind them. "At my age, I'm in a race with life."

"I don't see why," Rufus quibbled. "You're only forty-eight."

"My point exactly," Jill spat, moving in next to Dominic. "How you doin', baby boy?"

"You two won't change," Dominic chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between his parents. They'd always been that way with each other.

"And we ain't fittin' on changin' either. Til death do us part, right old man?"

"Quit calling me old, woman."

"What you want me to say, Rufy?" Jill threw a hand to her waist. "That you're ancient?"

Dominic cracked up at that, spilling some of the lentils on himself. "Now look what you two made me do. Stop with the foolishness."

"Who's the parent?" Jill asked. "You or me? Don't ever let me hear you tellin' us to stop anythin'."

"Leave the boy, Jill. You're so grouchy."

"Dominic doesn't think so. Ain't that right, baby boy?"

"Mum, I love you no matter what."

Jill pulled her son toward her and planted another one of those wet kisses squarely on his cheek. "You see, Rufy. The boy loves me no matter what."

"And so do I," Rufus said. "We love you just the way you are. I won't trade you for all the tea in China."

"Awwwwwh, Rufy, that is so sweet. Come here; let me give you a smooch..."

"I'll be right back," Dominic said, untying his apron from around his waist. "I'm gonna take this call on the outside."

It was the third time Abraham had called that day, Dominic observed as he stared at the name and number on his phone. Should he answer it? What was left to say? The connection he once held with Abraham had been broken. There was no way to fix this. The man was a fake. A pretender caught in the act of his lies.

"Why you keep calling? I have nothing left to say to you?"

"It will do no good avoiding me," Abraham said. "Get over your self-righteousness and let's talk man to man. You must learn how to master your emotions."

"Quit the lessons. I don't care to hear them."

"My boy, you won't need to hear them from me. Life has a way of making you its pupil."

Dominic was ready to end the call right there and then. "You're done? I'm busy helping my peeps."

"Why are you so bothered by this? Are you afraid of your own weakness? You know every man has a weakness."

"At least I don't sleep around with prostitutes, then turn around and preach abstinence, if that's what you're saying."

Abraham felt his heart crushing at the words of the young man into whom he'd poured so much. "I pray that your heart will not be hardened against me, for your sake. I hope –"

Dominic impolitely cut the connection, regretting he'd answered the call. Abraham always had a way of making him feel guilty, but he would not be manipulated into forgiving Abraham so easily. He spun on his heels and marched back up the rickety steps, not caring how they wobbled beneath his feet.

## Chapter Twenty-Three

"Hey babe, where are you?" Leroy asked.

"I'm home. Why'd you ask?" Michelle questioned.

"Well, I'm heading to the _Brio Tuscan_ for lunch with the pastors from the Bahamas. I want you to join us."

"Oh Leroy, I don't feel up to it."

"Come on, don't be a party pooper. I told them that you'd come."

"I guess I don't have a choice now, do I?"

"Call Abraham and tell him to bring you. I love you, babe."

The maître d' ushered Michelle and Abraham to Leroy's table where he sat with a group of six other persons, all of whom were men, except for one. Michelle would have been fine with the arrangement if the other woman at the table hadn't been Shaniece, who'd planted her sanctimonious behind in a seat right next to Leroy.

"I didn't know she'd be here," she whispered to Leroy as he stood to greet her.

"Not now, hon," he whispered back, holding her by the waist with one hand and using the other to wave to the gentlemen around the table. "Michelle, I want you to meet Pastors Cecil McKnight and Rodwin Thompson. And these are their adjutants..."

The men stood to greet Michelle one by one. Leroy then introduced Abraham as the Youth Minister in Charge.

"You have a lovely wife, Reverend Paxton," Rodwin said. "I'm sorry that my wife couldn't be here to meet you. She would fall in love with your style."

"Oh dear, maybe next time," Michelle smiled as she gracefully took her seat. She hoped she didn't sound stupid saying that. Leroy was so much better than she was at making small talk.

Shaniece seized the opportunity to throw in her suggestion. "Why don't we plan for both of your wives to come to our annual women's conference in July? That way we can all bond and share our ideas with each other."

"Certainly," Cecil said. "That's something we will look into. As a matter of fact, we'll get a group to come."

"Oh, it will be an explosion," Shaniece beamed reverently. "I can feel it now. Our connection to the Bahamas would be a good move for Mount Moriah. Especially, now that we have quite a few Bahamians attending our services."

Michelle cut her eyes away from Shaniece, bothered by her overbearing attitude. Shaniece had never attended any of the women's conferences, and here she was acting as if the steering wheel was in her hands. It was embarrassing to watch Leroy sit there and allow this woman to have this much control.

As their server fluffed out their napkins and spread them in their laps, Michelle got an uncanny feeling that Shaniece's next step was to start a network of churches overseas.

"So, how'd you hear about our church?" Leroy threw the question out to either pastor.

"My brethren," Rodwin said. "We watch you every Sunday morning on the Word Network. Your delivery is powerful, and your style of preaching is spellbinding. I can see that the Lord is blessing your church."

"Thank you," was all Leroy said as thoughts of his secret began to surface. None of these accolades would matter if what he'd done five years ago were somehow exposed.

"What's your membership?" Cecil asked.

"Seven thousand," Shaniece blurted out. "And it's growing. The church can seat about five thousand. So we have to divide the services into two sessions to accommodate everyone. But that will soon change..."

"Oh? What do you mean by that?" Rodwin asked.

All eyes were on Shaniece. Even Leroy was at a loss as to what Shaniece was alluding to.

Suddenly, feeling like she was about to be pelted with stones, she chose her next set of words wisely. "Discussion is still in its infancy stage and I dare not raise the issue here in the open."

Michelle flashed Abraham one of those _I-told-you-so_ looks. This woman was trying to take over everything, and there wasn't any shame in her game. More than ever now, Michelle felt driven to discover why Leroy was refusing to kick her butt out of their lives. The mere fact that he tolerated Shaniece's tyranny was a sure sign that something bigger was happening without her knowledge.

Their server brought two baskets of warm rolls and placed them on the table between them. Cecil reached over, grabbing one.

"You know, back home in the Bahamas," he began, turning to face Leroy. "We have many husband and wife teams, working together in ministry, as we are doing with our wives. We have seen tremendous acceptance of this trend within our congregations. Congregations love to see husbands and wives shouldering the responsibilities together. It boosts trust and confidence, and portrays a godly example of love and mutual respect. And we congratulate you for doing the same with your wife."

The air felt as if it'd been sucked out of the room. Leroy's thoughts stumbled over each other, as he tried to put together a sensible comeback.

Michelle kept her eyes parked on Shaniece and waited to see how this She-Devil would react.

"I think you misunderstood," Shaniece said, letting lose that priggish grin that reminded Michelle of the Grinch who stole Christmas. "My portfolio contains the line of succession, where it states–"

"In the interim," Leroy sat up interrupting. "Pastor Shaniece is currently serving as my assistant, which I feel will give her extensive training for her spiritual career. My wife's hands are full, working in several sectors of the church. I will not put more on her than she can handle. Her roles as the Head of Administration and as the Head of the Women's Ministry are enough to burn out anyone. I can assure you, the line of succession is firmly instituted, which my wife is very much a part of."

Leroy took a sip of water and waited to hear Shaniece's mouth, but to his surprise, she kept her trap shut. Michelle rubbed her husband's hand supportively. He had just said a bunch of baloney, but she couldn't stop smiling on the inside. For once, it felt good to hear her man finally taking charge. This time she gave Abraham a small wink, as if to say she'd won another small victory over Shaniece.

"Well said, Reverend Paxton," Rodwin commented. "Well said. I would have never thought of it that way. I love your style of leadership."

"Thank you, my dear brother," Leroy said, raising the menu to his face. "I'm starving. Let's order."

6:11 p.m.

As Tayah rolled her Nissan Altima into her driveway, Phillip made his way out, dressed in his usual silk black shirt and matching black slacks. When she saw him, her blood pressure skyrocketed to the roof. She was already frustrated with his lack of concern and his tired excuses. It was time she let him know that this was the last night she was putting up with it. She leaped out of her car and dropped everything she was holding to the pavement.

"Where you think you're going?" she spat, throwing her body in front of him.

"Get out the way, Tayah. Let me go 'bout my business."

"No! Either we sort this out right now or you don't come back."

"You're giving me an ultimatum? How stupid." He nudged her a little, smirking at her attempt to get even. "Where'd you get this fire from all of a sudden? Did "organ boy" put you up to this?"

"Don't be pathetic, Phillip. This is between you and me." She took one whiff of his breath and almost gagged. "You've been drinking?"

He chuckled at how long it took her to figure it out. He'd been drinking all week, and clearly, his reasons were justified. He doubted her week had been as terrible as his, compared to what he had to deal with it, if so, she would be drinking too.

"And you're the cause of it," he told her. "You should be home, but instead you're running around town with organ boy. You two sleeping together now? Don't lie, 'cause he's always wanted you for himself."

Tayah tried to keep the drama out of her expression, but Phillip had pushed the wrong button. "You, of all people, should know better than to accuse me of something as ridiculous as that. Dominic and I were friends long before _we_ got married and I'm not going to let your dirty mind paint a negative picture of our friendship."

"You see, that's our problem right there. I'm not the only man in this relationship. How do you expect our marriage to work if you're putting all of your trust and confidence in someone else?"

"Don't you dare turn this around on me! You're the one who's never home, coming and leaving when you please; acting as if this place is some bachelor pad. What do you want me to do?"

"I don't expect you to run to organ boy–"

"Stop calling him that! His name is Dominic!"

"I guess that's how you scream his name out when he hit the right spot..."

"You no good son of a..." She rocketed toward him and backhanded his face as if slaps were going out of style.

He restrained her hands against her bosom and then pushed her to the ground of the driveway. "You know you want him. Don't deny it..."

"Go! Get away from me, Phillip!"

"Awwh, just a moment ago you wanted me to stay. Make up your mind, honey. Which is it?"

"I don't even care what happens to this marriage anymore. Do what you wish, Phillip."

He wanted her to hurt as badly as he was hurting on the inside. "You would say that. Because you wanna be with him, that's why. And I bet you're going to see him after I leave..." He plunged his thin body behind the wheel of his Impala and then turned his bloodshot eyes on her. "Who needs you anyway? You're nothing but a pig in the blanket."

Her tears responded immediately to that statement. Of all the things her husband could have said, he chose to remind her of her inability to have children. She sat there on the driveway, moments after he'd sped away, and pleaded with God to end her miserable life.

7:12 p.m.

Dominic popped his trunk and grabbed his Wal-Mart bags with one swoop. Fortunately, his one-bed apartment wasn't too far from Wal-Mart, lest he wouldn't have had the motivation to go. Well, maybe. It depended on whether he had money to spend. He hated going somewhere just to browse, or to window shop. What was the sense in doing that when he hadn't any intention of buying anything to begin with? He'd gone to the store on Bruce B. Downs – that store was so huge that it'd taken him over half an hour just to get some fruit and a couple of personal hygiene products.

He ditched his brown Oxford shoes at the door and then walked across the carpet to his kitchen. He emptied all of the fruit into the sink, turning on the faucet to wash them. He normally did this to save time and effort. All he'd have to do now was select and eat right out of the refrigerator. He secured everything else, and then made a beeline to the shower. He smelled like his parents' soup kitchen. Everything they'd cooked was present in his clothes, which was okay for the time he spent there. But he couldn't imagine himself doing that every day. It didn't matter how loving, or how caring people appeared to be, everyone simply didn't have staying power. To feed and clothe scores of poor, homeless people every day took a lot of patience. Kudos to his peeps who'd been doing it since he was fifteen. He would always tell them God had given them the beneficence for that type of ministry. He was a different breed altogether.

The warm shower that spanked his back had a relaxing effect, helping to soothe the weariness of both his body and spirit. So many things had been bombarding his mind lately that it'd caused him to fall back on his morning talks with his Creator. He was in a place of restlessness, fighting against a conviction that pierced the pith of his soul.

He couldn't get away from what Abraham had taught him about having the attitude of forgiveness, the power to let go of grudges and bitterness of the heart, which was a form of disease that if left stewing, contaminated the very essence of a person's spirit. He'd always told them that forgiveness was a choice, and a decision of the will. And even though it didn't come easy, one must find the strength to forgive.

He leaned his palms against the wall in front of him, and allowed the water to beat upon his head. If the truth be known, it would be revealed that he'd always struggled with forgiveness. He'd always found it difficult to let things go. For years, he'd held in what his biological father had done to him and his mother. His constant beatings and the verbal abuse left them scarred for a very long time and it was only through the grace of God they made it out alive.

Growing up in a home of affluence, and as the only child, would be considered by some a privileged upbringing, but most of his childhood was filled with terrible memories. He remembered, as a boy of six, how every evening, how his father had staggered through the doors, drunk; cursing; and carrying on about the world of the white man – how they had cheated him out of a promotion.

He would stumble all through the house in a spit of rage. His mother would come out the room all upset. He felt sorry for her, because she'd stood on her feet all day, dealing with those too-hard-to-please clients. Her high-end hair salon on Fletcher Avenue and Thirtieth Street granted her temporary asylum from the nightly doldrums of her husband's annoying voice. Even now, he could hear his mother's voice, bellowing from the crevices of his memories.

"Jerry, you shut your dirty mouth in here! I'm fed up with you comin' home drunk, smellin' like you took a bath in the septic tank."

His father would fume at the words of his mother, "Keep messing with me and I will kill you! This is my cotton-picking house. I come in any time I feel like it. You gotta problem with it, get the hell out!"

"Maybe one day I will; Jerry, and I will take Dominic with me! You're a sorry excuse for a husband!"

Jerry became livid. "I outta knock your teeth behind your throat."

"You could barely put one foot in front of the other, you drunken bastard!"

Over time, Dominic learned that alcoholism was a progressive disease – it got worse and worse. His father eventually had lost his job. That took him over the edge; he drank even more than before, sometimes, as much as five liters of vodka a day. He drank from sunrise to sunset. Almost every day, Dominic would find six or seven bottles, hidden all over the house. One night, his mother got into a life-threatening confrontation with his father. Jerry punched Dominic silly, which resulted in a busted lip and two swollen eyes. The neighbors had to call both the ambulance and the police.

"You crazy bastard!" His mother screamed, tears flowing profusely. "Dominic is only six years old! What has gotten into you, Jerry? You could have killed him!"

"You want some of what I gave, 'lil man?" Jerry took his big hands and shoved his mother against the concrete wall. "I'll teach you a lesson on your dirty mouth! You don't know when to shut it up!"

Dominic watched in horror as his father latched his huge hands around his mother's throat...

Now, Dominic realized that his mentor of five years had caused some of those same old negative feelings to resurface, wrenching him back to square one. He'd trusted the man to hold up his end of the bargain. He'd trusted him to be real, and not to become a faker. How was Dominic supposed to move on from this point? How was he supposed to bounce back from something like that? Abraham hadn't any idea of the depth of his disappointment.

His body feeling refreshed, he slipped into a pair of Nike shorts. The envelope Rufus had given him rested on his nightstand, inviting him to give in to his curiosity. He knew it was Rufus' will, but he was not sure if he was ready to accept what was appearing to be the inevitable. For now, he would let it sit until his heart gave him the signal to read it. Resting his back against his mattress, he wondered what Tayah was doing at the moment. Maybe he should call her and let her know how well he'd done on his mock exam. Maybe they could meet for breakfast in the morning. But his body played a trick on him and soon, he drifted off into a quiet sleep.

## Chapter Twenty-Four

8:11 a.m.

"Where's Reverend Paxton?"

The voice sounded so ominous that Brenda almost pitched out of her Canadian skin. Raising her head slightly from the computer, she tipped her bifocals down to get a glimpse of the intruder.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

"What do you mean, 'oh, it's you'? Where are your manners? Have you forgotten who I am?" Shaniece demanded.

"How could I?" Brenda mumbled. "You never let anyone forget..."

"Keep talking to me like that and I will kick your behind out of here so fast; you'll spin on your grey head like a top. I'm not moved by your seniority."

Brenda kept her eyes glued on Shaniece, who wore a smile that would irritate the heck out of Mother Theresa. Every organ in Brenda's body blazed with resentment. She had not known that she had the capacity to hate a person so much. This was one sin that she knew would stop her at the pearly gates. But acting like the professional that Leroy had hired her to be, she calmed herself and cracked the best smile she could muster – which had given her self-esteem lot of insult.

"Let me apologize for my rude behavior," Brenda said, clasping hands together that were faintly covered with age-spots. "Reverend Paxton has not yet arrived this morning. I would be happy to alert you as soon as he comes in. Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait in your office?"

Shaniece peeled her lips back and showed her straight, white teeth, but she wasn't laughing at all. It was a grimace, laced with absolute disgust. "Brenda, are you still trying to be sarcastic? I don't think you really know who you're messing with. You haven't any idea how firm I can be. Open Leroy's office. I'll sit and wait for him in there."

Brenda froze, shocked by Shaniece's bold request.

"What's the matter with you? You stuck on stupid? Open the office door!" Shaniece ordered.

"I will do no such thing," Brenda said quietly, maintaining her godly composure. "You might be the assistant overseer of this church, but you have no right to make such impertinent demands. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Shaniece took each sentence in stride, pinning each one with a mental rebuke. She leaned her 36 D's in Brenda's face. "Let's see how long you last around here. I think it's time you take a permanent vacation. How old are you? Sixty-five? Sixty-six?"

Shaniece stepped back and straightened her black skirt, which rose several centimeters above her knees. Her stilettos vehemently clacked against the tiles as she disappeared down the hall to her office.

Shaken, Brenda snatched up the phone and called Michelle. The facade she'd been holding onto in front of Shaniece suddenly erupted into shrieks of panic.

"She said she's gonna get rid of me," Brenda cried. "She says I'm old and stupid and says she's gonna retire me, but I don't want to retire. I love my job. I take pleasure in serving you and your husband..."

"Brenda! Take a breath," Michelle said, hugging the phone against her ear. "What are you talking about?"

"I pray I'm forgiven for saying this, but she's an evil person, and I don't like her one bit..."

"Brenda, you're rambling. Who upset you?"

"Shaniece! She's been causing trouble for us ever since she got here. Lady Paxton, I can't begin to feel your pain, but I've reached my boiling point."

Michelle had suspected Shaniece would take her anger out on someone. The lunch yesterday didn't go the way that she'd expected.

"Calm down, Brenda," Michelle told her. "You can take comfort in this, that as long as my husband remains in charge, your position will never be relinquished. That is, until you decide it's time to move on..."

"I knew from the start she would be no good for the church," Brenda continued. "Everything's changed. You need to resume your duties in the office–"

"Brenda, did you hear what I said? We'll handle it."

"Oh, you don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that, because I'm terribly disturbed about this."

****

Leroy trotted into the kitchen as Michelle was replacing the receiver on the hook. She took in her husband who was elegantly attired in a charcoal pinstripe suit, with a solid gold tie resting against a well-ironed white shirt.

He pulled open the refrigerator and picked out an apple from the fruit bin. "Who was that?"

"Mrs. Wesson..." Michelle decided to keep the details short. "You look very handsome this morning. I'm loving this gold tie. Very bold."

Leroy planted a wet, juicy kiss on her lips. "Thank you, babe. I'm taking Cecil and Rodwin with me to a town hall meeting on Busch. You feel up to it?"

"No, thanks. You guys are not going to bore me to death with politics. Besides, I have other plans."

"Oh, really?"

Yes. I'm thinking about going back to the office later on today."

"At the church? Why? What's brought this on?"

"What do you mean why?" Michelle folded her arms. "I'm tired of working at home. You said it yourself yesterday. I am Head of Administration. I haven't been functioning in that capacity as I should. I feel I'll have better control if I'm physically at the church."

Leroy bit a chunk out of the apple. "Control over what?"

"Why am I sensing that you don't agree? You don't want me hanging around the church with you?"

"I didn't say all of that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Nothing. I just hope your decision doesn't have anything to do with Shaniece."

"You brought up her name this time; not me." Michelle was tempted to mention that receipt she'd found on the floor yesterday, obviously leaving out the part about her and Abraham visiting the Sheriff's Office, but she feared her accusation would not stick. She needed something more concrete, because she knew at this point that Leroy would not confess the truth to her. She tried another approach. "You know, I went to Brandon yesterday morning."

_Be cool_ , Leroy told himself. "Oh? You drove?"

She didn't expect that to be his first question. "Does it matter?"

"Not really." Leroy moved to the sink to wash his hands, purposely turning his back to her.

"You're not going to ask me why I went to Brandon?"

"I assume it was for a good reason. I know you won't waste your time doing something that's unprofitable."

"Well, you're right about one thing. I did go there for a reason. I want to host the next Women's conference there in June."

Leroy spun around to face Michelle. "In Brandon? Why not here in Hillsborough? It's literally half an hour difference, offering the same amenities. I don't see the sense in that."

"I do," Michelle said. "If I have it here, I will be distracted, among other things. But I also don't feel like traveling too far this year. So, I chose Brandon. I've already booked dates at Holiday Inn Express."

_What a coincidence_ , Leroy thought suspiciously. "I admit; it's a nice hotel. I've stayed there a few times – but I still think my suggestion is better. Have it here in Hillsborough. That way you won't have to spend those days away from me." One look at his Rolex told him that it was time to go. "Can we pick this up later? I'll be late if I don't leave now."

"Of course," Michelle said, offering her cheek to Leroy.

"I'll call you later, babe. Love you."

Leroy's reaction threw her for a loop, making it seem as if her going to Brandon didn't make any difference to him. Maybe Abraham had been right all along. Leroy was always in and out of hotels. That receipt could mean anything. He could have simply forgotten that it was there. But how would she explain the date – the exact date that she had nearly lost her husband to a gunshot wound? Was that a coincidence? Was she reading too much into this thing with Shaniece? Was she trying to search for something that plainly wasn't there, trying to fix something that wasn't broken? She couldn't stand the woman, but that didn't mean Leroy was having an affair with her. Right?

Oh Lord, please help me. I am so confused...

Michelle noticed Tayah inching her Nissan Altima up the driveway, which was strange, because Tayah rarely sacrificed her mornings for small talks. She preferred to devote her mornings to spreadsheets and numbers, claiming she was at her sharpest during the time when most people were just pouring their first cup of coffee. Michelle grew even more alarmed when she saw Tayah's appearance. Her daughter wasn't Naomi Campbell, but she sure wasn't slapdash in her apparel either. Michelle could tell Tayah hadn't ironed her outfit this morning. Her thick flowing hair was pulled back in a ponytail, while her feet dragged along in a pair of slippers that didn't match anything she was wearing.

"Hey, baby. What's wrong?" Michelle asked, opening the door.

"What an appropriate question," Tayah said. "Everything's wrong, mother."

Michelle followed her daughter across the hall and into the living room, knowing that anytime Tayah led the way to sit and discuss, trouble was brewing in the camp.

"You know, mother," Tayah started. "I'm at a place in my life where I truly don't understand what is going on with me. It feels like the walls are closing in and I'm being squashed."

"I can see that you're overwhelmed," Michelle said, sitting down next to Tayah. "Working like you do is taxing on anyone."

"I'm not talking about work. I love my work." Tayah wiped the corners of her eyes with the tissue she held between her fingers. "It's me and Phillip. I won't pretend, mother. I'm not happy in my marriage."

"Don't tell me you're giving up already."

"Who said anything about giving up? I said I wasn't happy." Tayah gave her mother a stern look. "What is it with you and divorce? Every time that I tell you I'm having problems with Phillip, you jump to these crazy assumptions."

"Honey, I didn't mean for it to come out that way," Michelle said, rubbing Tayah's hands. "I've been so wired up lately that I hardly find time to pray. I'm sorry. Let's start over."

Tayah stared at her mother. "What's going on with you?"

"No, no, you came here to talk about you and Phillip. I'm an old veteran. I should be able to weather the storm a little better than you, don't you think?"

Tayah cracked a smile. "I never thought I would ever hear you quote any of grandma's words."

"Me either," Michelle laughed. "The older I get, the more her words make sense."

"Isn't that how it supposed to be?" Tayah said, still patting the corners of her eyes. She was hurting so much she was afraid she would lose it right there in front of her mother. "These days the elderly women don't teach the younger women anymore."

"This is a two-way street," Michelle said. "The younger women today are independent. Many of them feel their grandmothers are too old fashion. Even I've been called old fashion by your generation."

"We're crazy, that's why," Tayah said. "Don't listen to us. We're in this mess because we think we know it all."

As it was with any devoted mother, Michelle couldn't stand to see her children suffering, especially when they cried. She took one long look at Tayah and knew something had gone terribly wrong. "Talk to me, Tayah. What's going on between you and Phillip?"

"Oh mother, where do I start?" Tayah didn't have enough tissue to absorb her tears, which now flowed steadily down her flushed cheeks. "Phillip said some really hurtful things to me last night. His words stung so hard that I wanted to use them as an excuse to walk out of our marriage."

Michelle held her daughter's hand. "Honey, we all say things that we don't mean when we're upset."

"Not this time, mother," Tayah said. "Something's going on with Phillip and I don't have a clue to what it is."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. He's different. He's not the same Phillip that I knew six months ago. When I got home yesterday, he was drunk..."

"Drunk? Deacon Phillip?"

"Mother, please. Those titles don't mean anything."

"You can understand why I'm shocked? It appears as if you're talking about two different people."

"It feels like I'm living with two different people," Tayah said. "One minute he's this sweet caring man and other times, he's mean and disruptive."

"Tell me he didn't put his hands on you."

When Tayah didn't respond, Michelle panicked. "Oh God, what did he do to you? Tayah!"

"He pushed me," she said, annoyed by her mother's reaction. "Nothing serious."

"That is serious, Tayah." To say Michelle was incredulous was an understatement. "Why didn't you come to us with this sooner?"

"And say what, mother? That Phillip wants a baby and I can't give him one? How many times have I told you and daddy that? It's getting old."

"It sounds as if you blame yourself for the way he's acting."

"And you wouldn't? For three years, I've been trying to give my husband a child and every twenty-ninth day of the month, I'm disappointed."

"Tayah, listen to me," Michelle said, her voice strong with concern. "Marriage is about two people coming together to share the load, not make one partner feel as if he or she is carrying it alone. Phillip is selfish. He doesn't care about how this is making you feel. I think you should talk to Leroy about this. He would know what to do."

"Don't make a spectacle out of my marriage, mother," Tayah said. "Let me handle this the way I see fit."

"Baby, I'm worried about you." Michelle stood up. "I've always had my reservations about Phillip–"

"Stop it!" Tayah stood up too. "I didn't come here to listen to you berate my husband. We're not perfect. Just as you and daddy are not perfect. I know y'all are having problems. I can see it in your face every Sunday when that woman takes the microphone from daddy."

Michelle's eyes watered. "Why, Tayah? Why would you intentionally hurt me when I'm only expressing my concern for you?" When the tears dropped, she wiped them with the back of her hand. "If that's what you want, fine, have it your way. I won't meddle in your life anymore."

"And it's not even about meddling," Tayah said. "It's about facing the truth and being honest with yourself. If you don't deal with this woman, I promise you, she will deal with you."

"Tayah, you could be very mean when you're upset," Michelle told her daughter. "I'm not your enemy. I'm your mother and when any one of my children is in pain, I will respond. Please, don't make me have to apologize for caring for you."

Tayah took in a deep breath, wanting to cry even more. "You're right. You shouldn't have to apologize for caring about your children. I was wrong for lashing out at you like that. I just wish I could experience those same feelings with my own baby..."

"And you will, Tayah," Michelle said with conviction. "You and Phillip will have children and there's no doubt in my mind about it."

"I pray to God we do, mother. If only for Phillip's sake."

## Chapter Twenty-Five

2:22 p.m.

Any time that Leroy was alone, he was sure to experience several bouts of depression. The burden of carrying around a secret and trying to hide it from the people he loved was destroying his resolve day by day. He knew that God had forgiven him, but it was impossible to enjoy the feeling of being forgiven when Shaniece kept the past dangling in front of his eyes. He felt trapped, and no matter how much he wanted to empty his soul to Michelle, life as they knew it continued to disintegrate. There had to be a way to get rid of Shaniece without drawing attention to his family and to the church. He pressed a button on the intercom and buzzed Mrs. Wesson.

"Yes, sir?"

"Brenda, let Shaniece know I wish to see her in my office."

There was a pause and Leroy thought the line had dropped. "Brenda?"

"Sir? I will get right on it."

"Thank you."

As he waited for Shaniece, Leroy took the time to reflect on the conversation he'd had with Michelle earlier this morning. He'd been married to her for twenty-six years and what he didn't know about her now, he would never know. She was up to something. His wife did not go to Brandon to book dates for a women's conference. She could have done that over the phone. But what made her think of Brandon? That incident, which almost claimed his life, happened almost five years ago. Something must have triggered her and sent her curiosity swinging into high gear. His fingers, as they occasionally do, subconsciously rubbed the indentation above his left eyebrow. To this day, he still couldn't believe that he'd survived that brutal attack. The scenes of that night never fully left him.

They seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. Two strapped young hoodlums, plowing behind him, blaring profanity. They'd chased him half a mile from the location of his sin. They must have been sent after him. He knew that he shouldn't have done it. He'd reasoned that it was okay to do it once – to settle his longing for something fresh, something out of character. The voice of God had assured him that night that he would not only regret it but would suffer at the hands of his captors...

"Okay, okay!" He'd shouted, running into a cul de sac, out of breath. They had caged him in, and by the looks on their faces, he could tell they'd killed before. "Young bloods, think about what you're doing. Put down the weapon..."

"Man, shut up with all that crap!" Clutching a brand new Smith & Wesson .357, the gunman's finger nervously toyed with the trigger. "I outta' pop one in your stupid leg; just for makin' us run."

"How old are you?" Leroy had asked them. "You look no more than eighteen. Not much younger than my two sons."

"Awwwh, man, you messed up big time. Them boys don't know you a pervert? Yo' man, that's messed up! When they find out, they would thank me for puttin' you out your misery."

He remembered it being a warm summer night, but the coldness of the gunman's words sent his temperature to sub-zero. If this was hopelessness, he'd thought, he couldn't imagine what death would bring upon him. He thought about his funeral procession that would extend two blocks, as his family and congregation marched to his burial site.

As morbid as that picture had been, it didn't terrify him as much as what would be said of his legacy, especially when the world found out the reason behind his murder. It'd been more than he'd bargained for, but he'd refused to entertain any feelings of regret at that point, because it would've only interfered with the plan he'd had up his sleeves.

"What you doin'? Get back!" The gunman screamed. "Get back!"

"It's okay, young blood, give me the weapon," Leroy said, speaking as a reassuring father.

"Man, I'll put a bullet in your face. Get back!"

"It's okay, it's okay, just give me the weapon..." Just two more slow steps, he'd thought.

He did get an infinitesimal second of opportunity, but it'd proved to be the deadliest mistake of his life. A scuffle ensued, ending just as quickly as it'd started. He heard a gunshot crack the atmosphere like a thunderbolt. And then he heard the hoodlums scrambling to their feet, abandoning him to bleed to death on the asphalt...

"It's about time that we have this meeting," Shaniece barked at Leroy, yanking him back to reality. "I have much to discuss with you."

"Have a seat, Shaniece."

"No, thank you. I'll stand."

"Fine. Suit yourself." He gave her his most serious look. "How long will this charade continue, Shaniece?"

"Charade? This is not a charade. This is the work of God–"

"Cut the bull," Leroy snapped. "You don't expect me to stay silent forever, do you?"

She smiled. "Actually, I do. Unless you could supply me with a sweeter life than I'm living, you really don't have a choice. Besides, I love sharing the spotlight with you. We're a team, Leroy. This church wouldn't have been as successful without me."

"I could care less. I want you out of our lives."

"One thing about life, you don't always get what you want."

Leroy pounded his fist on the desk, frightening Shaniece. "Stop with the games! Make your offer and be gone out of here!"

Shaniece got excited at Leroy's outburst. She cupped her hands against her bosom, smiling big. "No time to crack under pressure, my little pervert..."

"Don't you dare call me that!"

"You might as well accept it, because that's what you are." She took several steps closer to him, dropping her voice low enough to administer her poisonous words. "My sister was only fifteen when you drove thirty miles from town to have sex with her–twice that night. And if you think for one minute that I'm gonna let you forget that, you better think again!"

Leroy's countenance fell and so did his spirit. He was never going to be free of this woman. "She told me she was eighteen. I didn't know..." he started.

"That's not the point. Even your ditzy wife will tell you that. You should not have been there in the first place."

"You sent those gunmen after me, didn't you?"

"Now, there's a question that I won't answer," Shaniece said, as she edged her buttocks onto his desk, giving Leroy a clear shot of her cleavage. "But I will tell you that I saved your life – but enough of this sad stuff. Let's get on with a more joyful topic. Do you still want to get rid of me?"

Leroy was too broken to speak at the moment. If he'd only seen the consequences that his sin would bring down upon him, he would have stayed in his hotel that night, locked away in prayer.

"Lost for words? Well, here's my offer. You can either accept it or deal with me for the rest of your life." Legs dangling in front of Leroy, she started to move them back and forth. "I've been thinking. A woman of my caliber, who has utilized her talents to introduce the best in Christendom, should not limit herself to someone else's dynasty. I am too powerful to be suppressed by testosterone, inferior to my influence. I practiced those lines last night..."

Leroy waited for the punch line, but had already started to feel sick to his stomach.

"This is what I propose," she continued. "I want to establish a new headquarters in my name, which of course, will be under my sole leadership."

That didn't seem as hard as Leroy imagined. "What's the catch?"

"Oh there's always a catch," she smiled. "I want half of the membership and half of the church's bank account."

"You've got to be tripping." Leroy felt his spine kicked back into place. "Over my dead body!"

She began to caress his shoulders. "C'mon, don't be such a tight pants. Relax and think it over–"

He jumped up, gripping her hands and shoving her away from him. "I will not allow you to push me into a corner. You don't know who you're messing with!"

She giggled. "Of course I do, pervert..." She kept on giggling and giggling, irritating the hair out of Leroy's head.

"Stop it! Stop it!" He reached out, grabbed her and wrestled with her, losing his balance as he fell on top of her.

The noise was so loud that neither of them heard the office door open. Dressed in her business-like suit, with her Gucci bag resting on her forearm, Michelle watched the scene before her, speechless. Leroy's head snapped up, catching the teary eyes of his wife.

"Michelle!" He pitched up from Shaniece. "This is not what it looks like..."

"Oh sure, Leroy. Go ahead and try to lie your way out of this one."

Shaniece gave Michelle a coy smile as she straightened her clothes. "We were just having a little holy fun."

Leroy stumbled over to Michelle and attempted to hold her. "Don't believe her! Nothing was going on between us..."

Michelle swatted his hand away. "You were on top of her! Don't tell me that nothing was going on."

"Baby, I know this don't look right, but trust me when I tell you that this is not w–"

Michelle finished Leroy's sentence with a stinging slap. She adjusted her shades over her eyes and practically ran out of Leroy's office.

## Chapter Twenty-Six

Hey, girl. Meet me somewhere. I'm hungry.

Sorry, Dominic, but I just ate some pasta. Maybe later?

You brushed me off yesterday, Tayah. I'm not letting that happen again.

I really can't. I'm busy preparing for the events tomorrow.

Why does it seem as if you're avoiding me?

A long pause ensued.

I'm not; just busy.

What is up with you, girl?

Dominic please, I'm dealing with a lot. Just let it rest.

Whatever you want, Tayah. Call me whenever you can. I'm just concerned about you...

If she'd kept the text going, she knew Dominic would have never left her alone. He was a pest in the making. At the beginning of the week, she would have welcomed all the attention, but now, as she sat on her patio, adjusting a word document in her Asus Notebook, she felt smothered by it, especially after Phillip had gone on and on about him last night. God forbid, if she should see Dominic any time soon. Her BlackBerry went off again, but this time the text was from Ian Laing:

Let the caterer know the headcount for the breakfast seminar has increased by forty.

Wow. What happened there?

A large group from Atlanta flew in last evening. Good thing that we booked the bigger room in time.

Yeah, I'm glad the board listened. Don't worry. I'll get right on it.

Thanks, Tayah! I can always depend on you.

That reminded her, she hadn't decided on what she was going to wear at the volunteer banquet tomorrow night. With so much going on in her life, she doubted she would have time to go out to buy anything new. She would just have to hunt through her closet and find something that fit. Her hair was another story. She hadn't a single idea what she wanted to do with it. Should she wear it up or down? Should she wear a hair band or a cluster of flowers?

Under different circumstances, she would have been excited about getting prepared for this event, but at the moment, her mind was not in a festive state. It amazed her how her week had started in high spirits, and now it appeared to be ending in misery and gloom.

"Got off early?"

Tayah moved her eyes away from her notebook long enough to acknowledge Phillip, who was standing over her. Seeing him, set off her pain afresh. She fought to hold it together.

"So you're giving me the silent treatment?" He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. Reaching in his jacket, he removed a single red rose and placed it on the table for her to see. "I acted like a jerk last night, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of those stupid things that I said to you. I don't know what came over me." He paused, wringing his fingers as if they were soaked with water. "Crap, this is harder than I thought..."

Negro, you had better come up with something better than that lame apology, she thought. 'Cause even this cheap cologne you have on is working against you...

"Tayah, do you remember when I took you out for the first time?" he asked. "I'd begged you for two months before you agreed. You were so strong-willed, and I couldn't understand why you refused to ride with me in my car..."

'Cause I didn't know you that well, fool. You could have been a murderer. Where's this leading anyway? 'Cause right now, Phillip, you're not making any sense. Better yet, why don't you just get up out my face?

"We went to the IMAX Dome Theatre on Busch," Phillip continued, smiling as the memories flooded his mind. "We watched Stomp Out Loud. Do you remember how crazy that gig was? Their dance moves were tight. You tried to deny it, but you were impressed."

Big deal. What's your point?

"I showed you that night that I was just as good, or even better. I showed you how much of a good time we could have together. That was the turning point for us, Tayah. We had fun. We laughed and enjoyed hangin' out. That night I promised you that I would keep that pretty little smile on your face."

So much for that. You men are nothing but big talkers. You fill a girl's head with lies. I must have been giddy that night to have trusted you with my feelings.

"We had fun, girl. I miss that about us..."

Yeah, right. You sure didn't remember that when you called me a pig in a blanket...

Several moments of silence sped by, which raised a red flag in Tayah's mind, because Phillip was never at a loss for words whenever he had control of the conversation. Her curiosity begged her to get into Phillip's mind, but she was terrified of what she might find. These days, he was too unpredictable.

"So you just gonna sit there typing with your mouth shut?" He locked his fingers together and rested them against his lips, which for him, was a sign he'd been ticked off. "Am I wastin' my breath on a piece of rock?"

Tayah sensed a change in his mood, but against her better judgment, she stayed mute and typed away as if she'd suddenly been struck with deafness. She wasn't prepared for what came next. Phillip jumped up and snatched her Asus notebook. In horror, she watched him search for a means of destruction.

"Phillip, what are you doing? Give that back to me. All of my files are on it!"

" _Phillip, what are you doing, give that back to me_ ," he mocked her. "You pay this stupid thing more attention than you do me."

"Phillip, I don't wanna play–"

"Awwh, babeeeee, don't be a party-pooper." He craned his neck to the left and spotted their mildew-covered water fountain he'd been promising to sanitize from the day the New Year rolled in. He turned his eyes on her again and peeled his lips back into a devilish grin. "You know, ideas cost a fortune–"

"Phillip, I'm warning you–"

"Some of them," he continued, "are worth so much that a company would spit out twenty million smackeroos to an Urkel-looking whiz kid. Do you even care about what I do, Tayah?"

"You know I support you in everything, Phillip."

"Oh, really? Did you ever ask your father for the money I practically begged you for?"

Tayah kept her eyes on her laptop, pleading to God that her husband would not flip and toss it in that water fountain. This was the moment she regretted not backing up her files as frequently as she should have. "I just didn't have the time, honey. You know I'm busy planning this–"

"Lies! All you had to do is pick up the phone and call. I lost two potential investors yesterday because of you. All I needed was a few measly thousand dollars to acquire the software for my prototype."

"Maybe it's not too late. We can call him right now–"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Phillip kicked a chair and sent it tumbling across the patio. "You're only concerned about your stupid job and your stupid life!"

"Phillip, you're not being fair. Every night for the last several months, I have waited up for you, but you always found an excuse to stay away from home. What do you expect me to do? I mean, really. I volunteered to take on additional work to fill the emptiness that I feel in my life. And God knows, I'm dying to have your child, but you don't want me to raise the issue. You don't even want us to go and see a fertility specialist..."

Because the problem ain't with you, darling heart. I've just been told I'm shooting blanks. How I'm supposed to live that down if you found out that piece of information? "Because it's a waste of time! You're the problem why we can't have a child."

Tayah swallowed hard to keep back her tears, but she was not going to let him win this one. "Phillip, that's not necessarily true. I've been reading a lot on the Internet. The problem doesn't always lie with the woman. It's now discovered that forty percent of infertility is due to female factors and forty percent is due to male factors, the other twenty percent is..."

Read all you want, doll face, I've already seen a specialist. You might as well drop the bloody subject. "There's nothing wrong with me! It's you, Tayah, it's you!"

"I never said there's anything wrong with you. All I want is for us to make an appointment to–"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He tossed the laptop on the table. It landed with a hard slap before it dropped to the concrete. "You refuse to leave this crap alone..."

Tayah hadn't heard another word after she saw what Phillip had done to her laptop. The only thing she could focus on was how to salvage her files. Rage rose from her feet and shot through her mouth. "You didn't have to that. You really didn't have to do that. You are so dumb and so immature!"

Phillip twisted his neck in shock. "What did you call me?"

"You're behaving like a ten-year-old child; just because you can't get your way. I've never seen a grown man act so retarded..."

It only took Phillip two jumps and he was at her throat. He careened her up against the wall, and would have choked the daylights out of her if the doorbell hadn't rung. He released her and rushed inside to answer the doorbell. Tayah followed him, rubbing her neck to assuage the pain and burning in her windpipe.

"Mr. Paxton," Phillip expressed with a jubilant smile. "Haven't seen you in these parts for a while. What brings you by?"

Leroy looked like a man who'd lost all hope, but Phillip was too wired up to notice. "Where's Tayah?" Leroy asked.

"I'm right here, daddy," she said, sticking her head out, standing next to Phillip. "What's going on?"

"I need to speak with you, darling," Leroy said. "It's concerning your mother. But if this is not a good time, I will understand."

Phillip felt Tayah pressing her fist into his back, which seemed to indicate that if he turned her father away, she wouldn't hesitate to tell him her husband had almost sent her packing to her grave.

"Sir, it's not a problem," Phillip said, keeping that glorious smile on his face. "Come in. I'll put some cups in the microwave to make some tea."

## Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Mother, let me in. Please!"

"Over my dead body! Two times in one week is enough. Go home to that man," Delores called back.

Michelle blinked away the tears that wanted to drop. "Mother! Please! Open the door."

"For what? I don't wanna hear you complainin'. You females of this generation are too weak. You can't stand pressure. You women run away from everything. No backbone. Stand up and fight for what's yours."

"I don't want to spend the night. I just need someone to talk to."

"No! Talk to Jesus," Delores advised.

"Mother! Mother?"

Michelle felt as if her world was coming apart. How could her own mother reject her in a time when she needed her most? She knew she was not as strong as her mother was. Delores had grown up in a time when women kept their homes together with an iron fist. Nothing shook them away from their marriage vows. They had ambition and they had staying power. Michelle would be the first to admit, she didn't think she could have survived that era. Leaning against her mother's front door, she closed her eyes, and allowed the tears to spoil her makeup.

Abraham got out of the Escalade and left it in the street, not liking the scene unfolding in front of him. He'd had a premonition that this situation would end in tragedy if Leroy didn't man up and get rid of Shaniece. That woman would not let up until she destroyed the church and sent the pastor's family scurrying in confusion. He took Michelle by the arm and pulled her away from the front door. Though he was only forty years old, holding Michelle in his arms made him feel as if he were her father.

"Abraham, I'm so tired," she kept repeating, trembling in the breeze as it picked up strands of her thick curls. "I don't know what else to do, I just don't know..."

"Shhhh, you don't have to think about that now," he told her. "Let's get you out of this breeze."

"Don't take me back to that house..."

"I'll do whatever you want," he whispered, as he gently patted the center of her back. "Leroy is a fool to ignore how this is affecting you."

Michelle rose up from Abraham's chest and managed a tight smile. "I've never heard you call my husband a fool before."

"Well, Lady Paxton, there's many things you haven't heard me say," he said, returning her smile. "I was simply speaking the truth."

6:31 p.m. – Brandon, Florida

"Is that everything?" Shaniece asked Ellie, who was holding her only suitcase.

Ellie gave her bedroom one last look. "I have all that I need," she said. "I'm not gonna miss this place."

"What about 'lil man's things?" Shaniece asked, as she pulled a Tampa Bay Buccaneer's cap over her nephew's head.

"They're in my suitcase. We're packed and ready to go."

"You sure you wanna go through with this, Ellie? This is it. No turning back."

"As long as we are with you, we'll be fine," she said, as she shut off the lights in the room, a room that was filled with many dark memories. "You are a mother to me, Shanny. Both to me and my son."

Shaniece swiped her tongue over her teeth, biting back her intolerance. She couldn't stand Ellie calling her Shanny, but she didn't know how to tell her about it. Her sister meant well, and possessed a heart of gold, but had a problem understanding simple logic. She was the type one would call a 'hopeless romantic', a very delicate and trusting soul indeed. Shaniece was convinced those traits drew all sorts of men to Ellie, who took advantage of her body and her mind. And her sister was too naïve to realize the damage being done to her. She was sure if she hadn't come home early that night, Leroy would have gotten away with raping her sister. She remembered that disgusting look on his face when he realized he'd been caught...

"ELLIE!" Shaniece had screamed when she saw them. They were so sexually taken with each other that they hadn't heard her when she cracked open Ellie's bedroom door – something she'd done every night after the death of their mother. Horrified, Leroy jumped up, and scrambled for his clothes. He was so shaken up that he'd tripped and fallen on his face.

"How could you do this to her, you sick pervert?" Shaniece ran over to him and plunged her foot into his ribs. "She's only fifteen! You better believe that I will have your tail arrested for rape!"

Ellie's heart-shaped face was covered in tears. She draped herself over Leroy, trying to protect him from her sister's fury. "Stop it, Shanny, stop it! I love him! He didn't do anything to me! I wanted it. I wanted it–"

"Girl, shut your mouth!" She yanked Ellie by her arm and swung her naked body across the room.

Ribs aching like mad, Leroy had managed to push his legs through his pants. He grabbed the rest of his belongings and made his escape while Shaniece dealt with her sister. But the distraction was short-lived.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easy!" She spun on her heels and rocketed after him.

Leroy burst through the front door and bolted down the path toward his 'getaway' car. Feeling as if she was losing ground, she called out to her 'gang banging' neighbors, who immediately responded to her alarm. She looked on as the two young thugs, whom she'd helped get their GEDs, sprinted behind Leroy with their pistols held in the air.

"Bring his tail back here to me!"

That image of Leroy in bed with her baby sister was as fresh in Shaniece's head as it'd been five years earlier. It was the fuel that drove her vendetta against the Paxton family. Ellie had prevented her from pressing charges, but she would not allow anything to prevent her from flying on easy street. She and her family needed money and Leroy had lots of it. She never dreamt things would have worked out in her favor the way they did. She'd thought Leroy was dead, but several days down the road, she found out he was recuperating in a Brandon hospital. She vowed to find a way to extract revenge.

She frightened Ellie into telling her everything that had gone down, from how they first met to how he'd manipulated her to have sex with him. Ellie told her they'd communicated on the Internet for months and that he was a very important man (Leroy had left out that part of him being a pastor), who held an elite position in the community. Obviously taken with this man, Ellie arranged the set up. But Ellie didn't expect her sister to return home early that night, as Shaniece's second class in Journalism had been cancelled.

Ellie had told Leroy she was eighteen and that she lived alone. Back then, Ellie could have passed for eighteen, with her big breasts and curvy form, but Shaniece believed Ellie only said that in an attempt to protect a man she barely knew. That alone piqued her curiosity. Why was Ellie so smitten with Leroy? And why was she so determined to be with him?

For weeks, Shaniece kept an assiduous eye on Leroy's progress, learning about him bit by bit. She discovered that he had a wife, who was at his side at every waking moment. She learned that he was the pastor of a fast-growing church in Tampa that was undergoing a transitional change in their leadership. The man even had bodyguards. That spelt money. Ellie had been accurate in her description of Leroy Paxton. That's when the idea smacked Shaniece upside the head. With her natural ability to command the English language, both in written and oral expression, and after enrolling in a six-week Bible course, she convinced herself she was capable of stabilizing a congregation in mourning over their wounded pastor.

"Auntie Shanny! Look!" Her nephew's squeaky voice jerked her back to reality. They were ten minutes into their commute back to Tampa.

"What is it, honey?"

"The cows! Look at them!"

Ellie rubbed his head, beaming at his excitement. "This is the first time he's really seen them this close," she said.

"Oh really?" Shaniece raised her brows in surprise. "Well, he's gonna have a fit when we take him to Busch Gardens. That place is packed with animals. Lions, tigers, elephants, you name it, they've got it. You'll see, life will be different."

Life would certainly be different, Shaniece thought. Ellie hadn't any idea what she was getting herself into, and if she knew the real reason why Shaniece was bringing her to Tampa, she would crop out from heart failure.

"Thank you, Shanny," Ellie said, her eyes twinkling with appreciation. "We could always depend on you."

_Don't thank me just yet, little girl. I hope you have the guts to face the music_. "Of course, Ellie. I told you that I would take care of you two. You haven't any idea of all the fun that we'll have together."

"I love you, Shanny. I really do."

Shaniece cringed. Her sister insisted on calling her by that silly name. She must find a way to tell her about it. "I love you too, Ellie," she said, and then smiled at her nephew. "I love you too, buddy. A whole new life awaits you in Tampa."

## Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tayah awoke with a throbbing headache, which pained her so badly that she was tempted to call Ian and tell him that she couldn't make it to the MLK Leadership Breakfast that morning. She sat up in bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She'd spent the first half of the evening fighting with Phillip and the other half comforting her father, the two men who were, at the moment, treating their wives like pieces of strap meat.

She adored her father, but she didn't have the time, or the patience, to work on both of their marital relationships. The least that she could do was talk to her mother, which she had been doing, but it seemed as if her mother had a problem with being aggressive. She literally ran away from situations that appeared more powerful than the fight within her. With that mentality, Tayah thought, she didn't expect her mother to ever get what she wanted. Yet, she wondered, as she climbed out of the bed and pushed her feet into her bedroom slippers, how could she separate her problems from her parents' problems, when everything seemed to have meshed into one huge burden? It was not easy to neglect the pain of her loved ones.

The surrounding silence told her that Phillip had long gone, even though it was only six in the morning. He was sending her a clear message and she didn't like it one bit. _If you don't want to be with me, Phillip, why the heck don't you give me my walking papers_? _I didn't leave my daddy's house to be subjected to this foolishness_.

Tayah was a discombobulated mess. She couldn't explain what was going on with her life, and not being able to do that upset her. She didn't remember her life being this complicated before she married Phillip. As matter of fact, most of her problems started after she married Phillip. And she couldn't help but wonder if she'd been in her right mind when she accepted his engagement ring...

"Tonight marks a year since we decided to see each other exclusively," he'd said. They were dining at CK's, one of Tampa's finest restaurants. It had a revolving, 360 degree panoramic view of Tampa Bay, accentuated by nightly sunsets over clear blue waters. "How do you think we're doing after the first year?"

She'd looked into his eyes, dazed by the champagne and smitten by the picturesque view. "It went by so quickly," she'd told him. "And I'll be honest. I didn't think we stood a chance, because we are so different. You love the night life and dancing and having a good time. I'm a home body, and love my quiet time. Truthfully, I'm an extremely boring person."

He grinned, licking those juicy pink lips as she loved to see him do. "You're not boring. You're disciplined, but not boring. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with a woman like you."

"Oh really?"

"You don't believe me?"

"It's only been a year–"

"Which is enough time for me to know that I love you and I would be honored to have you as my wife. You put balance in my steps and I don't know if I would ever feel this secure with another woman."

She blushed. "If I wasn't a bit tipsy, I would have sworn you'd just proposed to me."

"You're not tipsy at all. I have proposed to you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white ribbon with a one carat diamond gold ring attached at the end of it. It had, 'Marry me, Tayah' written on it.

Her jaws dropped. "You can't be serious. We've only been seeing each other for a year."

"That doesn't matter. I love you and I don't want to waste any more time. Please tell me you will say yes."

"This is so sudden..." She fumbled for the right words to say. "Have you spoken to my father?"

"Yes. He knows about my intentions."

"What did he say?"

"It's not as important as what I wanna hear you say."

She inspected the ring, running her fingertips over the diamond. "Can I think about it? I just need a little time."

"It's better than a flat out rejection. So yes, I'll give you a little time. Please be kind to my heart."

Four months later, they were married by her father's friend, as her father was still in the process of recovering from a gunshot wound to the head. While sitting and talking with her father yesterday, it didn't seem as if he'd been a victim of such a brutal attack. Apart from the mental anguish piercing his dark brown eyes, he appeared to be as healthy and as virile as any normal man. She let out a sigh as she turned on the shower and stood under it. With two major events planned for the day by the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival, she was certain it was going to be a long, exhausting weekend.

About an hour later

As part of their workout routine, Dominic and Sanchez incorporated a five-mile jog around the outskirts of the University of South Florida campus. The morning was just getting started, but their heated discussion over the NBA's pick for MVP had been burning the minute they took to the strip down Fowler Avenue.

"I'm telling you, man," Dominic affirmed, sweating and breathing heavily in the light, spring breeze. "Derrick Rose is gonna pull it off again this year! Bulls would be in a slew without him."

"No sir!" Sanchez roared. "L.A. got the best record in the west right now. Kobe has that on lock down!"

"Boy, you talking craziness. Kobe playing with a bunch of scrubs..."

"That has nothin' to do with it. Right now, Kobe's averaging twenty-six points, five assists, and five–"

"And so is Kevin Durant," Dominic interrupted. "Actually, he's averaging twenty-eight points per game..."

"Yeah, I'm with you on that. Durant is a fierce competitor when it comes down to scoring, but I don't see him doing well in the other stats."

They paused at a traffic light, but they kept jogging in the same spot.

"Carmelo is playing well this season too," Dominic said." I think he might have a chance..."

"Carmelo? You crazy?" Sanchez kissed his teeth. "I'll trade that dude for a pack of bubble gum. He's a lazy piece of somethin'!"

"And I think Kobe is a ball hog," Dominic quipped.

****

Tayah turned left off Nebraska Avenue onto Fowler to make the seven-minute drive to Embassy Suites where she would join two hundred folks in a breakfast bash, celebrating the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. As she maneuvered in and out of the flowing traffic with one hand on the steering wheel, her other hand subconsciously rubbed the front of her neck. She wondered why that area felt so sore, but soon made the connection and was sadden by the reality that her husband had nearly strangled her to death, and if her father hadn't rung that doorbell, she wasn't certain she'd still be alive this morning. Her eyes began to water as she thought about the man Phillip had turned out to be. She never imagined that he would ever put his hands on her. To say she was disappointed was an understatement.

Oh Lord, give me the strength to love my husband, in spite of his shortcomings. And help me to give him that respect, even though I don't think he deserves it. Please, let Your...

Her prayer came to an abrupt end when she and other motorists stopped their cars at a pedestrian crossing to let Dominic and Sanchez jog across to the other side. Thank God they hadn't seen her, because they would have caught her drooling in lust. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Dominic's body, which was scantily clad in a black tank top and a pair of NFL-looking tights. Every muscle in his butt and thighs bulged as his feet struck the asphalt at a steady pace. The honking horns behind her jolted her to her senses, which also caused Dominic and Sanchez to look behind them to see what the noise was all about. Tayah stomped her foot on the gas pedal and drove out of view, hoping they hadn't spotted her.

As she burned rubber down Fowler Avenue, her BlackBerry rang, causing her heart to beat even faster. Maybe they had seen her, she panicked. Dominic could pick out her car in a crowded parking lot without breaking a sweat. What if it was him calling? She snatched up her phone and stared at the screen, relieved that she would not have to suffer such an unholy embarrassment.

"Hello, Ian. What's going on?"

"Please tell me that you're almost here."

"Yes, I'm turning into the parking lot as we speak," she told him. "Is there a problem?"

"Nothing that you can't fix. We need you to do the opening prayer. Marcus is a no show."

After all of that lusting she'd done a couple seconds ago, Tayah didn't feel worthy to approach the throne of grace. But she knew as one of the main event coordinators, she couldn't let the committee down. They depended heavily on her loyalty, so she simply said, "Oh sure, Ian. That's no problem. I'll see you on the inside."

****

Coming to the home stretch of their five-mile jog, Dominic took a seat on the grass, several yards from his car. Sanchez flopped down next to him, out of breath.

"If my mind's not fooling me, I think that was Tayah back there," Dominic said. "Ever since I took her home that night, she's been avoiding me."

Sanchez cracked a small smile. "Leave it to you and you'll find a way to bring up her name in every conversation."

"That's not true."

"Dom, so what if she's avoiding you, man. That's her God-given right as a married woman."

"I know that..."

"No, you don't..."

"What you mean I don't? I know how far to go. I know my boundaries."

"Whatever, man. You sittin' here moping over a chick that's off limits. You need to stop wastin' time and move on with your life. Mount Moriah is loaded with rows and rows of Nubian beauties. Bruh, even my sister digs you, but what do you care? As long as Tayah is in the picture, no other woman stands a chance."

Dominic really wasn't into hearing Sanchez preach to him about love and relationships, especially when Sanchez had problems keeping his dirty imagination in check. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his butt. "Let's drop this conversation right now."

"You are so touchy when it comes to her," Sanchez grinned. "You see, you're already upset. And for what? All I did was tell you the truth."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Dominic said, making an effort to head to his car. "You keep talking smack and you'll have to find someone else to carry that mouth around."

"Man, I tell you, women make us say and do some crazy stuff," Sanchez said. "Even King Solomon, in all his wisdom, was fooled by them. I wonder how you would react if Tayah had actually felt the same way about you."

Dominic kept walking ahead, annoyed by his friend's need for jocularity. "She's married. So I guess we'll never know, will we?"

"Boy, stranger things have happened," Sanchez's mischievous smile turned into a toothy grin. "I've learned that the future is very unpredictable."

## Chapter Twenty-Nine

When Leroy opened his eyes in his twenty by twenty study room, it was several minutes to noon. The white, stiff shirt and gold tie he'd wore yesterday lay in a pile next to him, along with his six-hundred-dollar charcoal suit. His Stacy Adam shoes were kicked under the table as if he'd developed a sudden distaste for his sense of style. He lay on his stomach with his nose stuck in their Persian rug, not wanting to ever get up and face the mess he'd created in his life.

He'd prayed and cried all night, which had been his only saving grace. Sitting alone in the dark without the comfort of his family, thinking about the pain he was about to put them through, had driven him up the wall. He'd contemplated heavily on taking his life, but that wouldn't have been fair to them. He owed them the truth, at least to Michelle. She deserved to know the reason behind his decision to ordain Shaniece as second in command.

He couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't go on watching his dear wife suffer unjustly, being humiliated day after day, when she'd done nothing but maintain her integrity. She didn't lose her cool amidst the lies and the gossip of the church, but had stuck with him, even though she had the option to take half of what they'd built together and skip town. She'd been loyal to him all this time. What a fool he'd been to have kept the truth from her. He probably wouldn't have endured five years of evil manipulation and constant reminders of his sin.

Indeed, his sin had brought nothing but misery and depression into their marriage. How much worse could it get if he emptied his soul to Michelle? She would either forgive him or not, and seeing how she had weathered the storm these last five years, he was tempted to believe she would find the space in her heart to move past his mistake. Because that's all it was, a fleeting mistake. Even though Shaniece had already planted the seed of suspicion with her lies and theatrics, he knew the truth would cause Michelle to see Shaniece for who she really was. But he first had to find Michelle.

He gathered up his belongings, and though he normally didn't walk through his home in his boxers, he took the chance, and assuming the boys were out playing ball, he practically had the place to himself. But he felt out-of-synch, as he made a diversion into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Just a few days ago, the place reeked of eggs and toast. And how ever short-lived the family fellowship may have been, everyone seemed to have enjoyed Michelle's cooking that morning. Now the stillness and the emptiness he encountered was a sharp reminder of his responsibility as head of his home. If he felt out of place it was no wonder that everything else felt as if it was out of place, too.

His family depended on his vision and his leadership, and if he weakened the foundation by consistently making poor choices, he had no one to blame but himself when things didn't go according to plan. He couldn't tell when was the last time he'd had a man-to-man talk with his sons. They were practically men now and he couldn't say for sure if he'd had much to do with their development over the last five years. It saddened him that it took that one scene, (with Michelle walking in on him and Shaniece yesterday), to get him to think seriously about the direction his life was heading. Maybe it was God's final attempt to compel him to do the right thing. Whatever the implications, he knew today would be the day he would set his soul free of the secrets he'd carried around for so long.

Same Time

Upon Michelle's insistence, Abraham had checked her into Best Western Suites after he told her she couldn't spend the night at his place. How would that be interpreted, he'd said, if it got out that the First Lady spent the night in the Youth Minister's house? Of course, she didn't care what the people thought. They were talking about her anyway. She simply wanted to stay as far away as possible from Leroy and his lies.

"Please, eat something, dear," Brenda said, as she and Abraham gathered around her, offering her a small serving of pasta from Olive Gardens.

"I'm fasting," she said dryly. "Get that thing out of my sight."

"Fasting? C'mon, Lady Paxton," Abraham said. "Obviously it's not for spiritual motivation. You need to keep your strength up."

"No, just let me die."

Brenda shared a look of concern with Abraham. They needed to lift Michelle out of her depression so that she could think more clearly about this situation involving Shaniece and her husband. She sat next to Michelle and rubbed her back in a motherly kind of way. "Not on our watch, hon," she said. "We care too much about you. You have to pull yourself together. Starving and fretting yourself to death is not the answer."

"Oh please, I have been dealing with this charade for five years. Don't tell me how I should act. I caught my husband wiggling on top of that witch!"

"But sitting here losing it won't make–"

"What the devil you want me to do?" Michelle's bloodshot eyes pierced Brenda. "You should have seen how she showed her teeth when I walked in on them."

"I'm sorry," Brenda said softly. "I didn't intend to come off as being insensitive. I simply–"

"All this time," Michelle rambled on, "they've been getting hot and heavy behind my back and I was too stupid not to believe it. The signs were right there, slapping me in the face. They were always finding reasons to talk, and to 'share' church business. But Leroy assured me that was never the case. And I so badly wanted to believe him, that I'd tried to push the suspicion away from my thoughts, but now I see that was my biggest mistake..."

Abraham felt his cell vibrating in his pocket, for what seemed to be the tenth time that morning. His moves were inconspicuous as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and stared at the number. He knew Leroy would not give up until he answered. He quietly stepped outside of the room and placed the phone against his ear.

"I could see them making fun of me," Michelle spat. She blew her nose into a piece of tissue that was already shredding with her tears. "Laughing at my stupidity. I must be the dumbest wife of the year. And I don't even love money that much. I wasn't staying with Leroy for the money. All I wanted was for my husband to be upfront with me..."

Brenda opened her purse and grabbed a folded manila envelope out of it. "Hun, don't take this the wrong way, but would you quit feeling sorry for yourself for two minutes and read this?"

"Leave me alone. I don't want to read anything."

"It's not what you think."

"Brenda, please. I'm not in the mood."

When Brenda saw she couldn't get her way with Michelle, she slapped on her glasses and began to read the contents out aloud. "These are letters of salary increases for the new quarter. I sent out four emails of notification to those concerned. I printed them for you to see."

Michelle placed her head in one of her hands and stared at the carpet as if she were about to drop and bury her face in it.

"If this doesn't get your juices flowing, I don't know what will," Brenda said, clearing her throat. She read all of the introductory details and then jumped to the paragraph she'd highlighted, "Dear Pastor Shaniece Bryant, this missive is to inform you that your annual salary of $115,000 will be increased to $225,000 with immediate effect..." Brenda peered below her glasses to catch Michelle's reaction, which was not what she expected.

"So? They are screwing each other. Of course, he would make sure she's taken care of."

"Oh dear, work with me here," Brenda said. "That's an incredibly huge jump, whether or not he's having, you know, with you know who..."

"What? Sex?" Michelle glared at Brenda incredulously. "Just say it, Brenda! They are having sex! What's so hard about saying that?"

Brenda blinked away her astonishment. She'd never heard Michelle indulge in such language. "My dear," she whispered. "Pastor Shaniece wasn't the only one who received such an outlandish raise in their salary."

"I don't care to hear any of it, Brenda!"

"Oh; I disagree. I think you should."

****

Leroy paced the marble terrazzo floor with the phone tucked to his ear, pleading with Abraham. He paid no mind that he was still in yesterday's boxers, feeling the cool air from the vents whipped against his legs. All he wanted was to have one word with his wife.

"Yes, I understand, Abraham. Please, put her on the phone."

"Sir, give her some time. She's not in any shape to be reasonable."

"I'm her husband for heaven's sake! Please tell her that it is urgent that I speak to her."

Abraham's burden for the Paxton couple was evident in his voice. "Let me see what I can do."

As Leroy waited to hear that familiar voice on the other side of the line, he suddenly felt his body trembling. He couldn't determine if it was because of nervousness or the temperature spreading in the hall. He walked swiftly toward the elaborate staircase and then began his ascent, thinking about that warm sweat suit resting in his drawer. He could hear Michelle in the background, arguing with Abraham, and for a moment, he thought Abraham had lost the battle until he heard her unsettling voice barking into the receiver.

"What do you want?"

"Baby..." Leroy wasn't prepared to handle the asperity coming from the woman who had had a gentle disposition during all their years of being together. The idea of pouring his heart out to her suddenly didn't seem so appealing. "A chance to talk," he said, carefully. "That's all I want."

She snickered. "Why do men have to wait until they are caught before they realize the bloody mess they've made? Now, you expect me to come at your beck and call? I don't think so, Leroy."

"I will tell you everything," he told her, leaning against their custom-made railings. He had a clear shot of both their sons' bedroom doors, which looked remarkably clean despite their sweaty bodies bucking up against them every day. "Just come home, Michelle."

"So, you are admitting to the affair?"

"Please, let's not do this over the phone."

"Why is it so hard for you to just say it? Just come out and say it!"

"It's not that easy..."

"Leroy, don't waste my time, 'cause you've already wasted five years of it playing your silly little games..."

Leroy lowered his chin to his chest, listening to his wife pound the nails of regret into his heart. He couldn't understand how one sin, which happened so long ago, could produce such devastating effects. It would have been better if he'd just died that night. Maybe he would have saved his family from a life of reproach and despair, because they would have buried his secrets in the grave along with him.

"OMG! You have to be Sean and Eric's father!"

Leroy jerked his head up, searching for the unfamiliar voice. His eyes froze on a lanky, auburn beauty who was posing on the threshold of Eric's bedroom door. She seemed to have appeared from nowhere, and the only thing Leroy thought at that moment was that the devil had come to finish him off. As his attention zeroed in on the sight in front of him, Michelle's voice briefly faded in the background.

"I can see where they got their genes from," she cooed, as she played with a strand of hair that had fallen over her face. She didn't have on a piece of clothing except for one of Eric's dress shirts. She looked Leroy up and down as if he were choice meat. "Nice legs, by the way. They didn't tell me you kept yourself in such good shape..."

" _Leroy_! _Who's that with you_?" Michelle screamed.

Leroy recovered just enough to tune back into Michelle, who was yelling into the phone, "Is she another one of your church flings? My God, how many of them have you been seeing behind my back?"

Leroy almost lost it when the girl began to run her fingers suggestively along her neck, "I don't know what is going on, Michelle. Our son, apparently, invited a woman to his room..."

"Don't you dare stoop that low and put this on our son! You expect me to believe you after all the lies you've told me?"

"I'm telling you the truth, woman! I don't know what's going on?"

"Put Sean on the phone!"

Leroy held the phone away from him, turning to the girl for help, which would have been out-of-place if they'd met under different circumstances. "Where are my sons?" he asked her.

"I came here to see Eric. I don't know where Sean disappeared to. Eric said he's coming right back. I thought you were him when I heard your voice."

Leroy couldn't believe the audacity of this young female, parading around his house as if she were a part of the family. But standing there in just his boxers, staring at her scantily clad body, which was obviously designed to pull his mind into debauchery, was doing some serious damage to his willpower. One thing he'd learned about temptation was to respect its power to entice. He wasn't about to reason with it and he wasn't about to give it space in his heart.

"You can't stay here," he told her with a tone of finality. "Get your belongings and leave."

"But Eric told me to–"

"I said to leave! Get out! I will deal with my son."

When Leroy placed the receiver to his ear again, Michelle had already disconnected from the line.

## Chapter Thirty

Shaniece rumbled through her massive collection of sermon DVDs, searching for one that would impress the socks off those two pastors from the Bahamas. It was her only chance to show them her worth and to convince them of her influence to help them garner the wealth and fame they eagerly sought. She would show them through the power of words (along with her impressive resume at Mount Moriah), that she had what it took to take the twenty-first century church to the next level.

They would be fools to ignore what she could bring to the table. Her networking ability, no doubt, would serve as a catalyst to Global expansion of what Mount Moriah would eventually be able to offer the world. And she was positioning herself to spearhead this gigantic revolution. She could confidently say that her game plan was gaining momentum.

For every dam that leaked beyond this point, as she was certain some would, she had a sandbag waiting to seal it up. To her, that meant control. She was aware that as her demands increased, Leroy's patience would gradually ebb away into hardcore rebellion. He would not answer to her tyranny forever. And that would have been a problem if she hadn't thought about the solution years ago. She was sure that Leroy had spilled his guts to Michelle by now. She smiled as she imagined what Michelle was experiencing at this moment. Betrayal? A broken heart? Embarrassment? There was so much filth attached to this story that Shaniece knew it would take Michelle forever to get over it. That sham of a marriage would not survive the cost of Leroy's mistake. If Michelle really knew the entire thing, from start to finish, she would leave town and never come back. Shaniece was sure of it, because even Leroy hadn't a clue to what he'd really gotten himself mixed up with.

Her Samsung lit up with a text that she'd been expecting all morning. As usual, he was late, but this time she didn't mind the delay. Ellie and her son had just settled down for their afternoon nap, which gave her a little time to speak to him alone before she called the general meeting with everyone. She imagined how Ellie's face would look when she discovered that their brother had been living in Tampa all this time. But of course, Shaniece would explain to Ellie that all of what they'd done was to protect Ellie and her son. She would force a few tears and Ellie would fall for it like rain falling in the wet season.

Shaniece re read the text:

I'm standing outside your front door.

They'd agreed that he would not show up unannounced without texting her first. Being caught together would certainly raise some eyebrows. She buttoned her jacket and pushed her feet into her stilettos, always sporting the professional look. She had an image to uphold, even if she was doing it to impress her brother. She tipped down the steps toward the front door, almost tripping on something in her path. She looked down and saw that her nephew had left one of his building blocks in the middle of the floor. But when she stooped to pick it up, she noticed dozens of them scattered all over the place as if his toy box had gotten blown up by Al Qaeda. She immediately became incensed at Ellie for allowing her son to do as he wished.

If they were going to be staying with her, they'd better warm up to her rules or she'd ship their tails back to Brandon so fast they wouldn't know what hit them. She wasn't about to be anyone's maid, and as soon as Ellie got up from her little nap, she would let her know that. She paused and took in a deep breath. It was no good getting worked up over nothing. If she tried sending Ellie and her son back to Brandon now, her plan was as good as dead. Ellie would do something stupid that would expose them and spoil everything she'd worked to put in place.

She didn't expect her brother to be looking like a shell of himself when she pulled open the door.

"Boy, what the heck happened to you?" she asked him. "Must I tell you, you look a good mess!"

"And it's exactly how I feel, Shaniece," Phillip said, as if his own voice annoyed him. He slowly lifted his head from the wall and staggered two steps toward her. "Safe to come in?"

With Phillip standing so close to her, Shaniece suddenly got a whiff of either Jack Daniels or Bacardi. Maybe he'd mixed the two, she thought, but one thing she could say for sure was that his breath was unbearable. "I see you brought some of your friends with you."

Phillip scratched his head. "Friends?"

"You so blithering drunk until you can't even think," she snapped. "How are you supposed to understand anything I'm about to say to you in this state? This is not the time to be losing it, Phillip. We're on the home stretch."

"Home stretch?" He chuckled to himself, and then parked his glassy eyes on his sister. "I was doing quite fine before you dropped this silly proposal on me. I had a life, and I had a woman that loved me. I gave up all of that for what?"

"I didn't put a gun to your head, Phillip."

"In many ways you did, sis. You promised me the world. You said that all of my financial hardships would be taken care of–"

"Don't you forget we did this for Ellie," Shaniece hissed. "That bastard took advantage of our sister and almost got away with it!"

"No, sis. Ellie didn't want this. And, I can see why. Just look at the person you've become. Look at me. We're two miserable peas in the same pod." He allowed his head to fall on Shaniece's bosom and he began to cry. "I don't know if I can go on pretending with Tayah..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Phillip!" She pushed him away from her, and then brushed his tears from her jacket. "Man up and stop this silly whining! Now, you listen to me and you listen good. I don't know if this is you or the alcohol causing you to act like a fool, but you better get your head out of your butt and grow some backbone. I've worked too hard to get to this point in my life and I will not let you, Ellie, or anyone else, stop my progress."

"I can't do this anymore, sis," Phillip sobbed. "The secrets are killing me. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I almost choked my wife to death..."

"Well, good! She probably deserved it. I am very angry with you, Phillip. After all I've done for you and Ellie, this is the thanks I get?"

"You've made my life a living hell," Phillip growled. "How long you expect this charade to last?"

Leroy had asked her the same question, but she had a different answer for Phillip, one sure to get his attention. "I've promoted you to Head Deacon and have placed you on an annual salary. How does eighty thousand dollars sound to you? That should shut you up and solve your problems I think."

Phillip raised his head and stared at his sister in disbelief. Her black eyeliner and her straight brown hair that fell just below her neckline made her look like an ominous vixen. "You think money answers everything, don't you?"

She folded her arms as if she dared her brother to challenge her response. "It does. I'm sure you could think of quite a few things to do with the money."

Truth was; he was in desperate need of the money. Thinking about Vell Gibson and his henchmen, prowling around his business in that black Caddy sent chills crawling through his body. As he'd learned, they weren't the type to double-cross. He owed them sixty thousand dollars. "I didn't get the check from you this week. You said you were gonna drop it off to me."

"I did, but I changed my mind. I thought it better to create a steady flow of income for you. That way you could handle your business, instead of always coming to me."

"For eighty thousand dollars you expect me to stay in this sham of a marriage with Tayah?"

"You will do more than that." Shaniece pointed a well-polished finger at Phillip. "Get yourself together and stop drinking your senses away. Furthermore, you need to start thinking about having some children..."

Phillip laughed, but he was far from being amused. "Children? Impossible."

"What do you mean impossible?" Shaniece was genuinely confused. "Tayah is not barren, is she?"

Phillip couldn't answer his sister, not because he was afraid, but because it hurt too much to admit that he was the cause of the problem. Tayah hadn't anything to do with it. He didn't even feel like a real man. He had to wonder if this was his punishment for going along with Shaniece's ridiculous plan. This was not what he'd imagined for his life. Shaniece had better watch her back, because the God of the Paxtons was fighting on their behalf.

"Phillip! What's the matter with you?" She gripped him by his arm and shook him. "Don't tell me that Tayah can't get pregnant. Have you been having sex with her regularly?"

"Once a week, sometimes, once a month."

"No wonder. How do you expect her to get pregnant if you hardly sleep with the woman?" Shaniece calmed herself a bit. "Anyway, we can always adjust that. First, you need to take shower. I want you to be fresh and clean when you go back home to her tonight. I want you to romance her–"

"I can't have children..."

"Make sure to run her water in the tub and put – what did you say?"

"I'm the problem, Shaniece. It's me! The fertility specialist told me I can't have chil–"

Shaniece drew back and slapped the taste out of Phillip's mouth. He recoiled in shock.

"Now, you listen to me," she scolded. "Go take a shower, and then go back home to that woman and do as I say. Don't you dare disgrace this family's name with your foolish talk. You will have children and you will leave behind a legacy. You can bet your bottom dollar that I will make certain of that."

## Chapter Thirty-One

Tayah stepped in front of the long mirror to get a picture of how she looked in her emerald green evening gown, which pulled in her waist and flared out to her ankles. The fabric was smooth and lustrous, like Princess Satin used frequently in wedding dresses. Her glossy, thick hair was tossed in an updo, held steady by two Japanese hair sticks. She stared down at her feet, and turned from side to side to see if her open-toe shoes added or took away from the look she was going for. Her jaws relaxed into a pleasing smile, as she gently picked up her necklace from the nightstand and then snapped it around her neck. Only one thing was missing: Phillip.

They'd agreed that he would be her escort to the festival's volunteer banquet; to help her celebrate a night of giving back to the community, but at a quarter past six with no sign of him in sight, she knew she had to make this move without him tonight. He was becoming quite a bore. A few weeks ago she would have been fuming mad, but lately so much stupidness had happened between them that she was feeling okay about not having that fool around. She didn't need a drunk embarrassing her tonight, but by the same token, she didn't want to go to the banquet alone. She wanted to share the joy of tonight with the people she loved. She doubted her parents would be there, considering the drama they were trying to deal with, which was colossal, compared to hers. She preferred that they thrash that church stuff out at home, rather than create a scene in front of her friends and associates.

Maybe she should call Abraham. He was like a father to her. She was sure he would have no problem escorting a beautiful woman to the event. But it was so last minute, and with the event beginning in forty-five minutes, she knew it would not be fair to impose such a request on him. However, there was one other person she could call, but she dared not. She dared not revisit that embarrassing scene from this morning, but if she were to be honest with herself, somehow, that embarrassment had unfolded into something else. But it'd been there all along, hidden beneath her fear of exploring the unknown.

The signs were real and she couldn't ignore them any more than she could ignore the growing rift between her and Phillip. Even more so, she couldn't ignore the effect Dominic was having on her brains. Thanks to Phillip, his dirty accusations only added to her confusion.

Although she tried, she couldn't get the image of Dominic's body out of her mind. And she knew better than anyone not to entertain thoughts that would only intensify her ungodly desires. However; it was a struggle for a young, hot-blooded, woman in her predicament, craving the attention of her husband. He hadn't touched her skin all month and the last time that he did, it was dull and unimaginative. He was not the type to be big on romance – he gave a hug here and there and a kiss in between. He gave a box of chocolates on Valentine's Day and a perfume set on her birthday. The gifts were the same every year.

Suddenly, she chided herself. Who was she kidding? She could rationalize all she wanted; she was only making excuses to indulge in her lust for a man who wasn't her husband – something she needed to quit doing while she was ahead. She quickened her pace when she saw the clock strike six-thirty. If she didn't leave then, she would definitely be late.

She grabbed her emerald green, velvet purse and was about to stuff her BlackBerry in it when she noticed the blinking red light. She paused and contemplated checking it. She'd made peace with her husband not accompanying her tonight, but she really didn't want to read some lame text from him explaining why he couldn't make it. He'd been doing that a lot lately and it bugged the heck out of her. She checked it anyway and immediately the tips of her ears flamed when she saw that it was from Dominic.

Haven't heard from you lately, but I hope that your night will be as radiant and as breathtaking as you are. Only thing though, I wish it was me next to you and not Phillip.

Now why had he allowed the devil to use him to say that? Tayah thought inwardly, but she couldn't stop the smirk that pulled her freshly painted lips into a pout. If he only knew, Phillip was not going anywhere with her, at least, not anytime soon. Her heart was beating so fast that she had to take a seat on her bed to catch her breath. Dominic always knew what to say, and how to say it, all at the right time. She could really use the company tonight, but she didn't know how to ask him. This would have been so easy to do before all of these strange feelings started coming over her.

Thank you. And it seems you just might get your wish. Phillip will not be able to make it tonight.

She reread it and then pressed Send. She smiled, knowing this tidbit of information would make Dominic very happy.

You for real? Girl, why didn't you say something? Just give me the directions and I'll be there. Wait. Do you want me to pick you up?

_Why couldn't Phillip show her this much attention?_ she thought, as she typed her response back to him.

No, that's okay. I'm running a bit late. I'll meet you there.

Aw'ight, girl. No sweat.

She stood up, still dizzy from the exchange. This wasn't right, God knows this wasn't right, but it felt so good. Besides, what harm was there with two friends being there for each other, especially, when both of them were going through similar circumstances. They'd both been let down by people they cared about. As far as she was concerned, she didn't see anything wrong with it. She took one final look in the mirror and then made a quick exit through her front door.

7:15 p.m.

The Heights Waterfront was the place to be tonight. It was considered the premier waterfront venue for hosting special events, such as the volunteer annual banquet. Conveniently located on the Riverwalk, north of the Straz Center, Tayah was pleased with the spot when she stepped out of her vehicle and looked at the picturesque scene surrounding her. The committee had been divided over choosing this place, simply because it was too big to decorate and too windy during this time of year, but she was impressed, to say the least.

Thankfully, the weather was serene and the company they'd hired to spruce up the site had done an excellent job, worthy of recommendation. But they would not be dining outdoors tonight. Inside, with over seventy thousand square feet of space, fifteen hundred people gathered to enjoy one of the most anticipated events of the year.

The atmosphere shook with live music from Sounds of Blackness, as they performed one of their old time favorites, " _Everything's Gonna Be Alright_ ". The message of the song fit the theme for tonight. 'Life is hard, but we will make it.' She looked on, searching for familiar faces, but the ballroom lighting made it a bit of a challenge. Fortunately, Ian had reserved tables for the committee members and their guests and had marked them with special decorations.

But she didn't want to move on without Dominic. She would wait near the entrance until he arrived. When several minutes had expired, she decided to check her BlackBerry to see if he'd sent her a message, but she discovered her phone wasn't in her purse.

Maybe it'd fallen out in her car seat, she thought.

As she contemplated whether or not to walk back to the parking lot, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. In response, she turned around to see who wanted her attention.

"Abraham! Mother!" Her expression fell somewhere between surprise and disappointment. On one hand, she was pleased to see her mother, but on the other hand, she wished it were Dominic. It felt as if she'd been waiting forever for him to arrive. She took her mother by her hands. "I wasn't expecting you to come. This is certainly a warm surprise."

"Anything for you, darling," Michelle leaned in and kissed Tayah on her cheek. "You look lovely."

"As do you, mother!"

"You do look lovely, dear," Abraham said, kissing Tayah, also. "You light up the entire room."

"Oh, Abraham, thank you," Tayah said, feeling a bit awkward calling Abraham by his first name, but it was what he preferred. "You're too kind."

"Where's Phillip?"

"Where's daddy?"

Both Michelle and Tayah had spat out their questions the same time. When Tayah looked into her mother's eyes, she got all the answers she needed. Even makeup couldn't hide the distress stitched into her mother's visage. The way things were going, Tayah wasn't sure if her parents' marriage would last another six months. But her daddy had taught her from a child that nothing was too big for God to handle.

"Phillip couldn't make it," Tayah said, trying to make it seem as if it was not a big deal, but deep down inside of her, she too was falling apart.

"Well, we're here," Michelle said. "And that's all that matters. We'll follow and sit with you."

"Of course. I will have it no other way."

Tayah gaped at her watch for the tenth time. It was nearing eight o'clock and she began to doubt if Dominic would actually show. Sounds of Blackness left the stage and Ian took the podium. His voice boomed through the speakers as he excitedly announced the lineup for the evening. He promised them that it would be a night of nonstop fun. Tayah looked through the doors behind her and tried to remain optimistic, but disappointment had already begun to sink in.

"You guys ready," she smiled. "Let's go and find our table."

"Tayah!"

She froze and then turned around slowly, recognizing his voice. "Dominic!"

He neared her, his eyes heavy with apology. "I texted you several times. I missed my exit and got caught up in that seven o'clock traffic."

"I don't have my BlackBerry," she said, and then smiled, her eyes showing that she was extremely pleased to see him. But then again, she'd always been pleased to see him. "And, I'm right here fussing at you in my mind. I was starting to think you wouldn't show."

"C'mon, Tayah. I would never do that to you."

When he said those words, she felt that he truly meant them. She couldn't stop staring at him. The black tuxedo he wore, with his hair and beard freshly shaved, he looked as if he'd stepped right off the cover of a GQ magazine.

"Dominic, Tayah didn't say you would be joining us," Michelle said, stepping in next to her daughter.

"First Lady Paxton..."

She waved him off. "Enough with that crazy stuff. Why can't I get people to just call me Michelle?"

Her casual air took Dominic by surprise. He thought about a sensible response, but the only thing he could do was offer her a bashful smile. First Lady Paxton was what he'd always called her.

"Where's Abraham?" Tayah inquired.

"I don't know," Michelle said, looking around behind her. "He was right here a minute ago. Give me a second, I'll go find him."

"I want you to know right now that I will not sit at the same table with Abraham," Dominic said when Tayah turned to face him again. "Why didn't you tell me he was here?"

She touched his arm gently. "Dominic, how long do you intend to avoid him?"

"Not until he stops sleeping with that prostitute."

## Chapter Thirty-Two

When Leroy heard the front door slam, he got up from the chair he'd been sitting in all evening. He placed his Bible on the table, which he left open to Psalms 51, and then made his way into the main hall. As soon as Eric walked past, he stopped him.

"Son? I need to have a word with you."

Eric threw up his guard right away. "What is this all about? I'm busy."

"We can have this conversation here in the hall or we can have a seat in the den like two civilized men." Leroy was not moved by his son's attempt to intimidate. "The choice is yours."

Eric cracked a small smile. "The choice is mine. Funny that you should say that..."

"Where have you and your brother been all day? It's Saturday. You had no classes and you had no practices of any sort."

"How do you know that? You're never around?"

"Lose the attitude, young man." Leroy took several steps forward. "I never told you that I'm perfect, but I am still your father and I expect you to treat me as such."

"You might be my father," Eric said. "But that doesn't mean I have to listen to you."

"Clearly, you're hurt over some of things I've done, or did not do, but I will not stand here and allow you to disrespect me in my home."

"You see, that's your problem, dad. You get upset for nothing. You hate your words to be challenged, yet you expect us to swallow everything you push down our throats. We can't have an opinion, we can't express ourselves, and knowing how you would react in any given situation, we would talk to mom first before we talk to you. Ever since the incident, you have never been the same..."

Leroy put up a tough exterior, but on the inside, Eric's words pierced his soul. "Where's Sean? I would prefer to talk to both of you."

"Well, dad, you don't always get what you want. That's what you taught us, right?"

"I also taught you about love and forgiveness."

"Yeah, that was when we were like five or six–"

"All that I do, and all that I've ever done," Leroy continued, "was because I wanted to protect this family. I wanted to give you all everything that life has to offer..."

"And you did give us everything. We never lacked for anything when it came down to you providing for us." Eric spread his hands before him. "But money, cars, and an eight-bedroom house is not a substitute to spending quality time with your family. Why do we have to beg for your attention? All of a sudden you stopped coming to our games–"

"I have explained this to you and Sean repeatedly. I am obligated to that church–"

"No! Your obligations are here with us!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me!" Leroy didn't want to get upset, but he couldn't stand having his position as the head of the home taken lightly. He pointed a stern finger at his son, changing gears so quickly that Eric didn't have time to catch up. "You keep that half naked woman out of this home. If I ever catch you or your brother indulging in such perversion, I will personally write you both a one month check out of here. I won't tolerate your looseness in here!"

"What are you doing, man?" Eric's eyes watered at hearing his own broken voice. "You can't fix this by threatening us. You have no idea what's going on with–"

"I will not turn a blind eye to what you and Sean are involved in!" Sin was a brutal slave driver and Leroy did not want his sons following his mistakes. "You boys had better know that I'm not playing when I say that!"

"We're not asking you to turn a blind eye, dad." Eric swatted away the tears that'd dropped down his square jaws. He was annoyed at himself for allowing his father to see that he'd gotten to him. "We need you to stop flying off the handle and listen to your family for once in your life!"

Leroy withheld his rebuke when he saw the grief in his son's eyes. It was the first time he'd seen him cry as a young man. And it was at that point that he realized that no matter how old his sons got, they still craved the attention and the validation of their father. That was the easy part. Admitting that he was wrong would be a challenge.

"Eric, I'm not too set in my ways to recognize my mistakes..." Leroy heard the front door slam for the second time and he figured it was Sean. It felt as if he took forever to walk into the area where they were. When he had, his expression told Leroy that he was about to bolt back through the door.

"Don't panic, stupid," Eric told him. "Just come right in and take any standing spot. Our father is about to share some important words with us."

"Sir," Sean said, keeping his eyes on his father. He didn't care what Eric said. He had to be sure his father was in his right mind. The last time the three of them stood together like this, Eric had taken the BMW for a joy ride and crashed it into a wall. The punishment had been horrendous.

"Where are you just coming from?"

"Friends, dad. We went bowling. Are we in trouble?"

"No, my boy," Leroy said. "You came at the right time. I was about to apologize to your brother, but I don't want to leave you out of it. Come; let us sit over here in the breakfast nook."

****

Phillip searched from room to room, desperate to tell his wife the truth – not about his infertility problem, of course, but about Shaniece's wicked plan to take over the church. He would tell her everything, from start to finish: how Shaniece had forced him to marry her and had given him money to keep his mouth shut. He would spare no details. As far as he was concerned, his sister had gone too far. He rubbed his jaw, still reeling from shock that she'd almost slapped his head off his body. When a woman got to that point, she was looking to have her life cut short. Not many men would allow a woman to hit them in the face and then let them get away with it. That's why he had to put Tayah in her place. Shaniece was lucky that she was his sister, because if she weren't, he would have broken her nose in three places.

He'd made up his mind to free himself from the burden he'd been carrying the last three years. He hadn't a clue as to what would happen after he told Tayah the truth. Obviously, she would be upset, but eventually she would get over it. He stood still for a moment and tried to pinpoint where his wife would be at nine o'clock at night. His best bet was to call her BlackBerry and save himself the headache.

He dialed her number several times, but her phone just kept ringing and going to her voicemail. He was tempted to think that she was avoiding him. But as he moved around, he faintly heard the actual ring of her phone, as if it were near him, somewhere. He swiftly spun around and headed to the bedroom where the sound appeared to be coming from. A short search revealed what he'd expected. Tayah had left her BlackBerry at home, which was something she would never dream of doing. His only solution was that she had left in a rush and hadn't realized it until it was too late.

He held her phone in his hand, inspecting it, staring at the blinking red light, which indicated a missed call or a text message. He didn't need to figure out that the missed call had come from his phone, but as that red light blinked in silence, it began to stir his curiosity, and soon he found himself eager to peek into his wife's private affairs. But he thought, nothing should be private between them anyway, because as husband and wife they shared everything. He had a right to inspect her phone if he wanted to. The first text he stumbled across was from a guy name Ian Laing:

We're about to start the event. Where are you?

Work related, he concluded. He scrolled to the top, which showed all recent text messages from her contacts. When Dominic's name came into view, he immediately clicked on it. One advantage of BlackBerry messenger was that it organized all new and old texts unique to each contact's name. The only thing he had to do was read their conversation, which was still in progress. The history hadn't been cleared and he believed Tayah simply had forgotten to do it in her carelessness. Then again, she wasn't expecting her husband to search through her phone. He got comfortable and read everything; line for line:

I'll be a few minutes late. Missed my exit.

I'm near the Straz center, but the traffic is crazy.

Haven't heard from you lately, but I hope your night be as radiant and as breathtaking as you are. Only thing though, I wish it was me next to you and not Phillip.

So far, all were from Dominic. He wanted to see how Tayah responded, which was the very next one he read:

Thank you. And it seems you just might get your wish. Phillip will not be able to make it tonight.

He kept strolling.

Hey girl, I hope you're smiling right now. I know lilies are your favorite. Let's meet for lunch somewhere.

The lilies are nice. Thanks, but you shouldn't have gone overboard like that. Phillip will have a fit if I take them home. Sorry, but we can't do lunch today. My presentation is due to present in an hour. I'll try to call you later...

Phillip gently rested the BlackBerry on the bed, exactly in the place where he'd found it. He stripped down to his boxers, and in his black tube socks, he walked the short distance to the kitchen. He took down a shot glass from the shelf and then retrieved the bottle of tequila from its hiding place. His friend from Mexico had bought it for him as a gift.

He sat in the middle of the floor, and filled the shot glass to the brim. He brought it up to his mouth and swallowed it in one gulp. His Nokia rested on the sofa in front of him, and after a few minutes of drinking, he pushed himself up to retrieve it. He stuck his thumb against the speed dial button and then released it after a brief hold. His fingers trembled violently, preventing him from putting the phone against his ear. So he activated the speaker and listened as the ring disturbed his quietude.

"Yes, Phillip. What you want?"

"Do you have four thousand dollars?"

"What?" Dee almost bit her tongue out of her mouth. "You are kidding, right? You know I don't have that kind of money. And furthermore, I don't want you callin' here anymore. You almost got my blinking scalp split in half the other night. I don't want to have anything to do with you. Four thousand dollars? You've got to be trippin' out your–"

"Well, you better find it," Phillip said, not fazed at all by Dee's big mouth. "Because you're gonna need it to bail me out of jail in the morning."

Dee took her voice up to earsplitting levels. "Boy, what you got yourself mixed up with now? You never catch sense! Just dumb and stupid! And full of liquor! Phillip! Phil–"

He cut the connection, relieved to have his quietude returned to him. Dee made a lot of crazy noise, but he knew she would find a way to come up with the money. She owed him for keeping her home from being repossessed by the bank. He held the bottle of tequila to his face, and noticed it was already half empty. The longer Tayah took to come home would be to her detriment, because every moment that ticked by, he became more and more furious. There's no telling what he would do when she walked her cheating behind through that front door.

## Chapter Thirty-Three

Tayah won the award for volunteer of the year. According to Ian Laing's assessment, she had a strong presence in the community, and was a faithful board member of the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival. He could depend on her to do anything. She'd played a major role in helping to launch several fundraising projects, and had kept the dream of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. alive through networking with many important people and awareness groups across the country. Civil rights activist, Dr. Benjamin Chavis placed an arm around Tayah, as half a dozen photographers drew near and went camera crazy. With all those bright lights slapping them in the face, Dominic was sure Tayah's eyesight would have to be readjusted before she walked down from that podium.

He and Michelle stood and were clapping and whistling along with everyone else. It appeared that Tayah had many friends in the audience and seeing all of their smiling faces, loving on this woman, sent a warm feeling through his body. He was proud to be associated with her and would do anything to remain a part of her life for as long as he could. What a pity he'd let her slip through his fingers, he had practically handed her over to Phillip. It was the biggest mistake he'd made in his life and every night he paid for it. Now, he could only imagine holding her, caressing her, and kissing her – things only Phillip had the right to do.

The scripture forbade him to covet another man's wife, but as she gracefully moved around in that fitted emerald dress, locking her smile on him; she caused him to sin without effort. If Sanchez got a sneak preview of his thoughts, he would scold him from sunrise to sunset, and tell him how much of a hypocrite he was. But Dominic had convinced himself that he knew where to draw the line. He would settle for Tayah's friendship. Obviously, he wanted more, but it was not possible. It was certainly better to have her as a friend in his life than not to have her at all. As he watched her descend the steps from the podium, his BlackBerry buzzed crazily against his hip. He quickly retrieved it and scanned the text:

Hey gorgeous, you didn't respond to my text. Should I take that as you trying to avoid me? I'm scheduled to leave tomorrow evening. Let's get together tonight. I want to discuss..."

He didn't get to finish reading A'moree's message. With Tayah nearby, he didn't want to risk raising any suspicion. He jabbed the phone back into its place.

"Congratulations, honey," Michelle beamed, squeezing her daughter. It was the happiest feeling she'd felt in weeks. "Well deserved, well deserved!"

"Thank you, mother! I guess hard work does pay off." She wheeled around and then threw herself into Dominic's arms. "It means so much to have both of you here..."

"I'm glad that you called me," Dominic said, holding onto her as long as she would allow him. "I really had fun tonight."

"So did I," Michelle said. "Abraham is such a loyal soul. He told me I would have enjoyed myself."

Tayah released Dominic, her face now lit with concern. "He hasn't called? He's been gone a long time."

"I know, dear, and I'm worried." Michelle took out her phone and checked it as she'd done ten minutes before. "All I got from him was a text saying he had to leave."

"Do you mind if I see it?" Tayah said, holding out her hand. She read the text aloud. " _Something urgent came up. Sorry to leave you unattended_."

"I don't know what to make of that," Michelle said. "This is not like Abraham."

_You got that right_ , Dominic thought. _You haven't any idea who Abraham is_. He shared a furtive look with Tayah and saw that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Loyal Abraham had gone to pick up one of those dirty prostitutes.

"He'll be back," he said casually. "I'm sure of it."

"I hope so, Dominic, because I don't have a good feeling about this."

"I'm sure he's fine," Tayah said, rubbing her mother's hand. "If you're ready to go, you can take my car and I'll ride with Dominic."

"I am kind of tired," Michelle said, seriously giving Tayah's suggestion some thought. "And I'm not in the best mood right now..."

"Here then, take my keys..."

"How are you gonna get your car?"

"Don't worry about it, mother. I'll pick it up at the house tomorrow."

The look in Michelle's eyes told Tayah that her mother needed to talk to her in private.

"Dominic, would you excuse us for a few minutes, please?"

"You don't have to ask me twice," he smiled. "I'll walk over to the bar and get some cider. You guys want some?"

"No, that's okay," Tayah told him. "I still have a half glass of fruit punch in front of me."

"He's such a nice boy," Michelle said, as she watched Dominic shake hands with a gentleman in passing. "I always wondered why you never married him."

"Lately, I've been thinking about the same thing," Tayah chuckled. "Things have not been going well between Phillip and me at all."

"I can say the same thing for your father and me. We are not on good terms either." Michelle looked as if she was about to come down with another spell of crying. "I'm not staying at the house. I'm at the Best Western for the weekend."

"You guys had another fight?" Tayah said that more as a statement than a question. "He came to visit me yesterday and told me to talk some sense into your head."

"Oh, really? What else did he say?"

"If you're so interested in what he has to say, why won't you talk to him?"

"You know just how your father is," Michelle said in her defense. "He would make me feel as if I'm overreacting."

"Well, I'm inclined to agree with him."

"That's because you don't know everything."

"And, I suppose that you do?"

"Tayah, your father is a difficult man." Michelle's eyes had already begun to water. "He will find a way to wiggle his way out of this one."

"Out of what, mother? Dad told me that he was having an argument with that woman. They were not making out in his office as you have imagined."

Michelle couldn't understand why people couldn't see the 'real' Leroy. He'd fooled them with his good looks and charm, but behind that, he was a controlling, lying bastard who made it obvious that he was in charge. He'd even gotten their daughter to believe his hogwash. "I walked in on them. Did he tell you that he was all over her? They were giggling and enjoying themselves. Does that sound like an argument to you?"

"Mother, I was not there, but I believe my father has told me the truth." Tayah kept her eyes locked on Michelle, knowing what she was about to say next would not be something her mother would want to hear. "You need to stop running from your problems and deal with them."

"I'm not running from my problems..."

"Yes, you are. How do you expect to solve anything if you're always back and forth, jumping from one place to the next?"

Michelle sat up, indignant. "You want me to stay in that house with your father? I'll literally, lose my mind..."

"And you will also lose your husband if you don't break this destructive habit!" Tayah refused to let her mother have the last word. "Here, take my car keys and go home to him. Listen to what he has to say."

Michelle dropped her head in exhaustion, tired of the struggle to maintain a life of happiness. Tayah took her hands and caressed them, as if to let her know she wasn't taking anyone's side. She simply wanted her parents to get their marriage back on track.

"Please, mother," she begged softly. "Do this for me. Do this for Eric and Sean."

Half Hour Later

Dominic assisted Tayah into the passenger seat of his car and then made his way around to the driver side and started the engine. As they drove off, he didn't think the night could get any better, especially after enjoying the best three hours of his life. He should be home with his head in the books, but any time spent with Tayah, however little it was, was worth the sacrifice.

"It's only ten-thirty," she said. She removed the Japanese sticks from her updo and then relaxed her head against the headrest. "We should go somewhere."

"You're kidding, right?"

She turned her head toward him. "Does it sound like I'm kidding? I want to spend some time with you."

He kept his eyes on the road, fearing a direct stare would cause his heart to leap out of his body, "Where do you want to go?" he asked, his throat tightening with anticipation.

"I don't care. Just don't take me home."

The only place that came to his mind was Temple Terrace, the location of his one-bedroom apartment. But he dare not listen to the dictates of his fleshly desires. Abraham had taught them that the devil was in the details. How sad that his mentor hadn't heeded his own advice. He would not make such a grave mistake.

"I was really impressed tonight," he said after a few minutes of wrestling of what to say next. "I hadn't any idea that you were so famous."

"Famous? Please, don't make fun of me."

"For real, girl. If I didn't know better, I would think you were a celebrity or something, striking that 'Halle Berry' pose in front of the cameras. You had those poor people jumping out of their skin. This one woman looked as if she was having the Holy Ghost. She was clapping so fast I thought she was gonna take off through the ceiling..."

Tayah's smirk turned into a full blown laugh when Dominic impersonated the actions of the woman. And even with his face wrinkled up and his body looking all funny as he did it, she still found him incredibly appealing.

"Boy, you crazy," she said, as she tried to calm herself down. "You know it ain't that serious."

"Oh, really? I bet when you all have the next meeting, they're gonna be talking about this night nonstop."

"I did have a good time tonight, though," she said, as she reflected on all the good music that had been brought in tonight. She gently placed a hand on his bicep, appreciating the firmness against her palm. "Thank you, Dominic. Really. I'd felt so down earlier – with everything going on with my marriage, and with my parents..."

"You don't have to explain, Tayah. I told you I will be there for you. Even before you married Phillip, I'd made that promise to you. I'm not happy about your decision, but I'm learning how to live with it."

She kept her hand on his arm, eventually giving it a gentle squeeze. A thousand questions ran through her mind, but the only one that had always been at the back of her mind was why she and Dominic had never gotten together.

"Take me back to your place," she told him, her voice now filled with desire. "I'm not going home tonight."

Dominic took his eyes off the road long enough to give her a questioning glance. "You're not serious. We can't...we shouldn't cross the line..."

"Dominic, please, don't give me a sermon. How do you know what I'm thinking about if you're not thinking about the same thing? My intentions may have only been to talk." She took at quick look out the window, noticing they were nearing the ramp for Temple Terrace. "Your turn is at the next light. What are you going to do?"

When he failed to respond, she leaned over and pressed her lips against his jaw. The warmth of her flesh sent electric bolts through every pore of his skin. Breathlessly, he turned to face her and found himself being drawn into a moment of irresistibility. Their eyes locked, their lips coming together as if they were being pulled by an invisible magnet. A light seemed to shine around them, which got brighter and brighter as they drew closer and closer. Unexpectedly, they were shaken by the unmistakable horn of an eighteen-wheeler, traveling sixty miles per hour in their direction.

"Dominic!" Tayah's eyes looked as if they were popping out of her head. "Turn, turn, turn!"

The brakes of the eighteen-wheeler whistled in the wind as the driver struggled to steer its huge body out of the way. The distance between the two vehicles was closing in, and the only thing Dominic could think of to avoid a head-on collision was to lock the wheel to the left and pray his car made it around to the sidewalk. Tayah didn't think it was possible. She went ballistic.

"Oh my God, Dominic! We're gonna die! We're gonna die!" She squeezed her eyes tight and braced for the deadly impact.

TO BE CONTINUED....BUT HERE'S A SNEAK PREVIEW OF BOOK TWO...

## Church Boyz II

When Things Go Wrong

A Novel

H.H. Fowler

## Chapter One

"We're not going to die, Tayah!"

Dominic kept the steering wheel turned tightly to the left as he floored the accelerator. The engine roared, which sent the car across the mouth of an eighteen-wheeler. It narrowly escaped a head-on crash. The car spun violently in the dust before coming to rest in a shallow ditch. The driver of the eighteen-wheeler jumped down to the asphalt and ran toward the other vehicle while inspecting it for any signs of noticeable damage.

"Hey! You two all right?" He placed his forehead against the window and peered inside. "I could have killed you back there! What on earth were you thinking?"

Dominic's hand shook as he rolled down his window. "Sorry, I, I didn't see you –"

"Obviously not! One second more and you two would have been under my truck." He swiped at the perspiration dripping from his brows. "Have you been drinking?"

"No, sir..."

"Then; what the hell were you doing?"

Dominic felt a wave of guilt, just thinking about his answer. He did not dare confess to this man that he had been about to plant his lips all over Tayah Paxton-Benjamin – a kiss that would have been their first and perhaps, their last. He turned his head toward her and saw the same guilt shifting in her beautiful brown eyes.

"You kids are lucky," the man told them. "You two have much to be thankful for. Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

Dominic checked himself and then Tayah. No one was bleeding, so he assumed a trip to the hospital would be a waste of time. "No, sir. I think we're fine. Just a little shaken up."

"All right, then. I'm about to take off," the man said. "Pull your car onto the road to make sure you can move."

"Yes, sir." Dominic eased his foot from the brakes and let the car roll forward. "We're good. Thank you..."

"Don't thank me. Thank the Big Man upstairs."

"Take me home to my husband," Tayah instructed Dominic as soon as the man left them alone. "That's where I should have been headed to begin with. Maybe this is God's way of letting me know –"

"Stop it, Tayah." Dominic had known Tayah long enough to know that she often took the blame for situations that were out of her control. Clearly, he was at fault, because he was the one who'd carelessly taken his eyes off the road. "If there's anyone to blame, it should be me. I'm the one driving..."

"But I distracted you, Dominic." She felt disgusted by her actions and could barely look at him. "For a stupid kiss, I could have gotten both of us killed tonight."

"We're alive and that's what counts..."

"I shouldn't have crossed the line with you like that."

"C'mon, Tayah, you didn't do anything I didn't want to do –"

"I forced myself on you, Dominic."

"No, you didn't."

Tayah hid her face in her hands. "My God, I am so embarrassed...this should have never happened..."

Dominic felt the only way that he could get Tayah to relax was to confess his feelings for her. Maybe she would understand that this situation was not only about her. He had not planned to do it, but somehow, after having such a close call, it gave him the guts to tell all. "Does it help to know I've wanted to kiss you since the first time your father introduced you to me?"

Tayah's expression went from horrified to unconvinced. "Dominic, you can't be serious. Why are you telling me this now?"

"It's the God's honest truth," he tried. "You remember that night, right? When our church visited your church? My stepfather was one of the conference speakers..."

"For a guy who'd almost been killed, your memory is certainly ticking, tonight," she said.

Dominic continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Seven years ago. I will never forget that night. When I got home, I couldn't stop thinking about you..."

Tayah rolled her eyes.

"I'm not playing. I thought we would get married one day."

"What made you believe that? You never even told me how you felt."

"How could I? I was in a relationship with a girl from my stepfather's church. By the time that we'd broken up, you and Phillip had already started seeing each other."

Tayah grew silent. She reflected on the time when Dominic first started to visit Mount Moriah on his own. He would go to his church in the morning, and at night, he would hang out at Mount Moriah. Before she knew it, Dominic had become a full-fledged member. Leaving his stepfather's church had not been an easy decision for Dominic.

"It's too late now," she told him, not appreciating Dominic's untimely announcement about his feelings for her. Maybe if he'd told her this before her life flashed before her eyes, it would not have seemed so inappropriate. "I'm married to Phillip," she reminded him.

Dominic smiled regrettably. "Yes, and it is to my detriment that I allowed it to happen. All I want is for you to be happy, Tayah, and if Phillip's the one you choose, then I'll have to back away and let you live your life. It hurts like hell, but it's the right thing to do."

_I didn't just 'choose' Phillip,_ Tayah thought. _Phillip pursued me. YOU didn't._ "Why are relationships so complicated?" she suddenly asked.

Dominic glanced at her before he made a right turn at a stop sign. "I think it's all about give and take," he told her. "When we don't follow the rules, we suffer the consequences..."

She looked at him. "Dominic, that was a rhetorical question."

"It was?" He grinned. "Cause I was about to bless you with a sermon."

"I know. That's why I stopped you..."

An awkward pause triggered Dominic's next question. "Are you okay?"

She did her best to smile away his concern, but on the inside, she was wrestling with her understanding about what had caused her to act as she had tonight. It was as if she had no control over her lustful appetite. She had never acted this way with a man, not even when she and Phillip were dating. The fact that she'd been willing to spend the night in Dominic's bed, shook her morals to the core. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," she said.

Dominic kept his eyes on her as he brought his car to a stop in front of her condominium. "I know you're still thinking about what happened tonight..."

"How can I not? We almost lost our lives over something stupid..."

"I don't want to dwell on what could have happened –"

"You don't understand what this is doing to me right now." She placed her hands over her temples. "I'm confused, frightened, and everything in between. I don't know what this means for us."

He didn't know either, but he wasn't about to let her tell him something he didn't want to hear. "Nothing has changed between us. We are still –"

"Everything's changed, Dominic." She gave him a frustrating look. "The old dynamic is lost. That's what you told the youth in the forum this week. Have you forgotten?"

"No, Tayah, I haven't forgotten," he told her. "But that would have applied, only if we'd crossed the line."

"We almost did!"

Dominic knew Tayah was right, but he couldn't bring himself to agree with her. A part of him wanted to compromise his stance on sexual sins, as in trying to figure out how far was too far. Would it have been a huge sin if he had kissed her tonight? Of course, under different circumstances, he would have strongly agreed that it would have been.

"I hope this doesn't mean you're gonna start avoiding me again."

"I don't know what I want to do, Dominic. I just think we should have better control of our emotions."

_I was doing fine until you made the first move,_ Dominic thought. "That may be easy for you because I'm not sure how you really feel about me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm just saying, Tayah. You know how I feel about you. It's out in the open, but I don't want to live the rest of my life waiting for something I can't have."

A glint of fire grew in her eyes. "A minute ago, you just said that you wanted me to be happy with Phillip. Now, you're asking me to divorce him?"

"I'm not asking you to do that..."

"Then what are you asking?"

"I want you to be honest about your feelings. I need to know how you feel about me."

"Oh God, Dominic, you are confused." She didn't want him to think she was being insensitive, but Dominic was making it extremely hard. "You are one of my closet friends –"

"You know what I mean."

"What difference does it make? I'm married to Phillip."

He furrowed his brows at her. "So, you're using your marriage as an excuse not to tell me how you feel?"

"It's not an excuse, Dominic," she shot back. "I'm committed to my husband. I wouldn't have married him if I didn't love him."

"Really?"

"Yes, really!"

"Then what was tonight all about? You only wanted me to satisfy your flesh?" As soon as those words left his mouth, Dominic knew he regretted it. But he was not going to allow Tayah to play him like some puppet on Sesame Street.

"I can't believe you just said that." She reached for her purse and everything else that belonged to her. "I'm leaving..."

"Why? Because I've told you the truth?"

"No, because you just made me sound like some cheap slut." She jumped out of the car and slammed the door for good measure. But she had one more thing to tell him, so she reopened the door and stuck her head in. "And I think we should stop hanging out for a while. Things are getting too complicated between us."

"I couldn't agree mo –"

She slammed the door again, before Dominic had the chance to complete his comeback. He wanted to act immature by driving off, leaving her alone in the dark to fish for her keys, but times were dangerous and he didn't want his antics to jeopardize her safety.

However, Tayah couldn't get inside soon enough. The embarrassment was killing her. How could a night that had started so beautifully, end in such disaster? She was convinced it was a warning from God. She jabbed her key in the door like a mad woman. Once inside, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes in prayer.

Lord, please forgive me for all of the foolishness I was about to do tonight. I can't explain what came over me, but I know you weren't happy with my actions. Please help me to stand in the face of my temptation.

A small disturbance caused her to fling her eyes open. She gasped in horror as her husband came into view.

"Phillip, you frightened me!"

"You're nothing but an old skank!"

"What are you ta –"

The first blow sent her staggering in confusion. She tumbled over the coffee table that was in the foyer. Her vision even seemed to blur.

"If you wanted Organ Boy, all you had to do was tell me!"

She pressed the back of her hand against her bloody lip, completely flabbergasted. "You lost your mind? What the hell has gotten into you?"

Phillip pointed his drunken fingers at her. "You try that crap again and you won't be standing here breathing."

## Chapter Two

Michelle eased her daughter's Altima to a stop in front of her two-story mansion, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. She still wasn't sure if she wanted to go through with Tayah's suggestion of 'hashing' things out with Leroy, and for a moment, she wrestled with the idea to turn the car around and head back to the hotel. Nostalgically, her eyes scanned the majestic views of the property, and took in the life that Leroy had built for her and their children. They didn't want or need, anything. Everything that they asked for was there for the taking – it was a life worth cherishing. However, what was the sense of having everything when she couldn't enjoy it?

She was fed up with her husband's lies. What could Leroy possibly explain to her? There wasn't anything to explain. She'd caught him, a pastor, lying on top of a woman that he'd made his assistant, polluting the house of God with their unrestrained appetites. He might have brainwashed their daughter, Tayah, into thinking it had not happened, but Michelle had seen them with her own eyes. After all this time, she could finally put her miserable assumptions to rest. She pulled her ebony curls into a ponytail, and then removed her diamond studs from her ears – tossing them into her purse. She had no reason to look fashionable now.

Her miniature terrier greeted her at the door, wagging its tail excitedly. She acknowledged him with a pat on the head and then proceeded slowly over the marble terrazzo. There were only two places where Leroy would be at this time of night – her first choice led her up the grand staircase to the second floor. She intuitively looked around and inspected the area for signs of his indiscretion. When she'd been on the phone with Leroy earlier, he'd told her their son had invited a female up to his room. Michelle had heard the girl's sensual voice, cooing in the background and commenting on Leroy's legs. However, the way Leroy had been lying these days, that female could have very well have been another one of his little dirty secrets.

That thought made her even more upset. She was a decent woman. She shouldn't have to put up with this kind of mess. When she got to her bedroom, the first thing she noticed was that the bed appeared to be undisturbed. The quilt, pillows, and cushions were exactly the way she'd left them, which probably meant Leroy did not sleep in the room last night. Even the empty juice bottles they'd drunk from had been left where they were. She pondered his actions for a moment, completely unaware of his presence behind her.

"How long have you been standing there?"

Michelle's heart leaped in response to Leroy's voice, but by the time she turned to face him, her expression was loaded with attitude. "You intentionally did that, didn't you?"

"Sorry. You were just standing there. I thought you knew I was in the room." He wanted to ask her about the evening gown she was wearing, but he was certain his inquiry would be met with some clever remark. He attempted a softer approach. "You didn't have to come home, Michelle. Because I completely understand the position I've placed you in."

Leroy's statement took her by surprise. "You understand? After I finally caught you in the act, you mean? Suddenly, you understand. I've been trying to get you to understand for five years, and for five years all you have done is lie through your teeth!"

Leroy walked across the room and pulled their bedroom door toward him until it snapped shut. He didn't want the boys walking in on what he was about to confess to his wife. Maybe he should have asked her about her evening gown. That might have been an easier opening, but any way the board was spun, Michelle was going to let him have it.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he told her. "Believe me, I've tried repeatedly to tell you the truth, but I was placed in a position that forced me to do things against my will."

"There's nothing forced about having an affair. And certainly, you weren't doing it against your will. You and Shaniece were all over each other, trying to tear each other's clothes off..."

"I will tell you this over and over again because it is the truth and I will stand by it." Leroy kept his voice low and balanced. "What you walked into was a fight between Shaniece and me. Contrary to what you think, we were not making out in my office."

"Who are you fooling, Leroy? I was born premature, but I wasn't born stupid!"

"I've never slept with the woman..."

"My God, even with the guilt stitched to your face, you are still in denial. How could you deny it? _Oh, we're just having a little holy fun_. Those were Shaniece's exact words when I walked in and saw you on top of her."

"Anything that woman tells you will be nothing but lies."

"If she's such a shady character, then why the heck did you make her your assistant pastor? I mean, what other reason is there? I simply don't get it..."

Leroy knew this was it – the moment he'd been rehearsing in his mind for years. As the words traveled up his throat and through his mouth, he imagined Michelle laughing at him.

He hid his face behind one of his palms. "I made her my assistant because she's blackmailing me."

"What? Blackmail?" It sounded absurd coming out of her mouth. "You really expect me to swallow that garbage?"

"Michelle, you asked for the truth and I will give it to you." He used his fingers to massage the bone behind his brows. "I think you should sit..."

"No. I don't plan on staying here much longer."

"Well, suit yourself."

He took a seat on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and then began to unburden his soul, one word at a time. "Five years ago, I should have listened to that voice inside my head," he told her. "I should have never gotten in that car. As I drove, my hands trembled. I gripped the steering wheel, knowing what I was about to do could blow our perfect world apart..."

Yet, Leroy kept his right foot, which felt as if it had morphed into a huge boulder, fastened to the accelerator. A cloak of darkness encircled him as he thought about the corruption that awaited his arrival.

" _You can still turn around," the voice had warned._

It wouldn't leave him alone. At one time, he would have listened. At one time, he wouldn't have questioned the wisdom of such admonition. But months of lewd meditation had weakened his spiritual resolve, and fed his obsession to experience something he couldn't have – a taste of the forbidden. Every fiber in his body screamed danger, but he could not disengage the sexual tension that had mercilessly choked the life out of his willpower. His theological background told him that what was happening was the result of a demonic attack, which had taken advantage of his weak disposition. If this was a test, he was failing it big time.

He ditched the rental car at the main road and walked quickly along a dirt path that took him directly to her doorstep. Every hair on his copper skin stood at attention as he envisioned running into Chris Hansen from the Dateline NBC program, 'To Catch a Predator". He could see his name and face plastered over the headlines. She was not an adolescent. She'd told him that she was eighteen.

" _Final opportunity," the voice said. "Get out of here and run for your life..."_

" _It's too late now," he remembered telling himself as he crept ahead, and left the pleading voice behind._

Reaching the first step, he took a deep breath to quell the butterflies flapping around in his stomach. She'd told him she would leave the door unlocked, and would wait for him while wearing something comfortable. It sounded like a ploy, but he'd come too far to give it any serious thought. Where had that voice been when he needed to hear it? Was it possible he'd finally discouraged its pleadings? He thought he'd never live to see that happen, but the voice was no longer there.

" _Hi, Ellie..."_

" _You're here," she said, swaying seductively in a black, revealing outfit. "I thought you'd changed your mind. Lock the door and follow me..."_

Up to this point, Michelle hadn't uttered a word. She stood there, numb from the floor up, afraid to question the evitable.

"Do you need a minute before I go on?" Leroy asked her.

She shook her head in an inexplicable manner. The pain came alive in her eyes and when he saw it, he immediately regretted his decision to tell her the truth.

"I think you know what happened next," he said quietly.

They both grew silent, as if to determine if this moment would mark the end of their marriage – the end of life, as they knew it.

"You had sex with someone you didn't know? A complete stranger?" They were Michelle's first two questions, but there were a million others behind it.

"We'd communicated for several months..."

"Several months?" Michelle swallowed her astonishment. "How did you meet her?"

"Does it matter?"

"Leroy, please, just answer the question."

"I met her over the Internet."

"Was it a dating website?"

"Michelle..."

"Answer me!"

Leroy dropped his head between his knees. "Yes..."

Michelle walked off, and took a seat on one of the sofas opposite her husband. She tried her best not to drop a tear until she pulled everything out of him that he'd hidden from her over the past five years.

"So, how does Shaniece fit into this picture?"

"She knows..."

"What do you mean she knows?"

"She knows about everything, Michelle. Everything."

Michelle felt a streak of jealousy toying with her heart. The one woman she couldn't stand knew something about her husband that Michelle didn't know. "How did she find out?"

Leroy kept his head hung, knowing things were about to get even more complicated. "She caught us together..."

"What?" Michelle spat incredulously. "What do you mean she _caught us_ together? I don't make the connection. What was she doing there in the first place?"

"Ellie and Shaniece are sisters," Leroy said, glancing up to get a peek at his wife's reaction.

"Oh. My. God..." The words dropped from Michelle's lips as if each one weighed a hundred pounds. Suddenly, Leroy's confession eclipsed the pain of any she'd ever experienced in her life. The pain was so unbearable that her airless lungs felt as if they wanted to collapse.

"This is too much for me, too much," she kept repeating, as she stumbled to her feet. "I can't stay here, Leroy, and listen to you go on about..." She stared at him vehemently. "What you did was so sick! I don't think I will ever forgive you for bringing this mess into our marriage..."

_What if I'd told Michelle that Ellie was only fifteen when I slept with her?_ Leroy thought. He was certain Michelle's reaction would have been twice as horrendous.

He jumped up, as if to block her from leaving. "I tried to protect you from this, but it has gotten out of hand. To keep quiet about this, Shaniece wants half of what the church owns..."

"Get out of my way, Leroy!"

"Are you listening to me?"

"I said to move!"

"We can't let her do that, Michelle. It's my father's legacy..."

"You should have thought about that before you spread her sister's legs. Don't expect me to support you in your foolishness. The hell with you, the hell with the church, and the hell with Shaniece!"

"Michelle, don't leave..." Leroy followed her like a desperate five-year-old child. "What am I going to do without you?"

"Trust me, you'll survive. I'll be seeing my lawyer first thing Monday morning."

Other Books by H.H. Fowler

When Things Go Wrong (Church Boyz – Book 2)

My Last Cry (Church Boyz – Book 3)

Javier (urban crime/romance)

Connect with H.H. Fowler on Twitter:

@fowlerguy1

Blog: www.churchboyz.org

## Author's Note:

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to entertain and inspire you. _Rod of the Wicked_ is the first installment of the Church Boyz series and it has truly been an adventure writing it. I hope you're thrilled enough to stick around for the duration of the journey. Join me in book two _When Things Go Wrong_ , as we explore the fate of your favorite characters. Please my blogsite: www.churchboyz.org and leave your comments about my story.

• What will happen to Dominic and Tayah? Will they survive and find happiness together?

• Will Leroy and Michelle overcome the enormous obstacles facing their marriage?

• With so many tricks up her sleeve, how far will Shaniece go to use Ellie to her advantage?

• How will Leroy deal with Ellie's reappearance in the middle of his life crisis?

• How will Abraham's sudden disappearance shake everyone up?

• How will the bodacious A'moree and her brother, Sanchez, make A'moree's heart's desire a reality?

Questions for Group Discussion

• Why is Dominic's anger and unwillingness to forgive his mentor so strong? What character flaw/s do you see in Dominic? Would you consider him to be self-righteous?

• Michelle sees Leroy as being stubborn and controlling. Leroy sees Michelle as being disrespectful. Do you agree with their assessment of each other? Why or why not?

• In the past, infertility was largely blamed on the woman, but recent studies show that it is just as much of a problem with the man. Phillip hides the status of his fertility from Tayah. Do you think couples should have fertility tests performed before they get married?

• Chapter Twenty talks extensively about the topic, 'Friends with Benefits'. Do you agree/disagree with any of the views expressed?

• It appears as if Eric and Sean are growing up without their father at in the home. Leroy spends most of his time at the church, not realizing his role as a father comes first. How important are fathers in the lives of their children, in particular, their sons?

• Even though Phillip is a partner in with Shaniece's plot to blackmail the Paxton family, do you think Phillip genuinely loves Tayah?

• Abraham said that the hardest thing for humans to do is to be accountable. Leroy thinks that there are too many wolves in sheep clothing and would rather keep his secrets between him and God. How do you feel about accountability?

• Dominic believes Tayah married the wrong man. Do you think it's possible for a Christian to marry the wrong person?

• If this book were made into a movie, how would you cast the roles?
