No Greater Loyalty

by S. K. Hardy

  "Hey!" His brows came together in a fierce frown.

  "Get out! I want you out, Darrell!"

  "I told you I’m not leaving. As soon as you calm down, we can talk about this."

  Outraged that he was attempting to pacify her on top of everything else was the last straw. Screaming, she flew towards him, slapping and kicking wherever she could land a blow.

  "Dammit, Jerra!" Darrell tried to grab her hands, but that made her even angrier. Scared she was going to hurt herself, he turned her around and pulled her back against his chest.

  Darrell had to raise his voice in order to be heard over her screaming. "Jerra, damn, calm down!"

  "Get out, get out, get out!" Jerra shrieked with tears streaming down her face.

  His face tense and full of regret, Darrell closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the back of her head. "Baby, please don’t," he whispered. "Please, please don’t."

  "You promised me, Darrell. You p-promised me." The hurt she felt was like a physical pain. "I hate you! Do you hear me?"

  "Jerra..."

  "Leave my Mommy alone, Daddy!"

  A small, frightened voice stopped them cold. They both watched in horror as their son raced towards them and started hitting Darrell with his small, clenched fists. Tina came running in after him, out of breath.

  "Leave Mommy alone!" D.J. screamed again.

  Darrell immediately released Jerra and knelt down to try and hug D.J. "No, no, baby. Daddy's not hurting Mommy. She's okay."

  But D.J. wasn't hearing it. Crying, he pushed against Darrell until Darrell let him go. Once he was free, he turned and threw himself into his mother's arms.

  Jerra’s eyes met Darrell’s as she tried to soothe their son. "Daddy's right, D.J., Mommy's fine. Shhh, it’s okay, baby."

  Jerra sniffed and did her best to wipe her own tears so that she wouldn't frighten her son any more than he already was. Her arms tightened around him when he buried his face in her neck.

  "Daddy would never hurt Mommy, sweetie," she said rubbing his back.

  At least not physically, she silently.

  Tina cautiously stepped forward, dividing her gaze between Darrell and Jerra. "I'm sorry, I tried to catch him, but when he heard the yelling, he took off before I could get to him."

  Jerra took the napkin that Tina offered her and wiped her eyes before gently pulling D.J. back. She offered him as brave a smile as she could muster. "I'm sorry we scared you, sweetheart, but see? Mommy's fine."

  "But why were you crying?" D.J. looked at his father who was kneeling beside them. The little boy's eyes were full of mistrust and confusion. "Daddy was hurting you."

  Darrell swallowed painfully. "I wasn't hurting her, baby. I promise. You know Daddy always tells you the truth, right?"

  D.J. hesitated before nodding. His gray eyes were as dark and turbulent with emotion as his father's.

  "I love you and Mommy very much. I'm always going to protect you. I'd never, ever do anything to harm either of you. Okay?"

  D.J. nodded again, and this time when Darrell pulled him in his arms, he went willingly and laid his head on Darrell's shoulder. Darrell and Jerra's eyes met over their son, both shaken at what he'd witnessed.

  Tina bent down eye level to look at D.J. "Why don't you come with me while Mommy and Daddy finish talking in their quiet voices." Tina didn't look at either of them, but they got her meaning. "You can show Grandma how to play that game you and Daddy were just playing."

  D.J. was reluctant until Jerra hugged him and gave him a big kiss. "Go on, sweetie. Mommy will be right there."

  D.J. looked at Darrell. "You too, Daddy?"

  Darrell swallowed again and looked at Jerra, his eyes pleading with her to change her mind. She averted her head so that she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. Darrell cleared his throat to enable himself to talk past the lump of emotion that seemed to be resting on his vocal chords, but it didn’t help. The only thing he could manage to do was nod, but apparently that was good enough for D.J.

  Somewhat mollified, the little boy took his grandmother's hand and followed her out the kitchen. Darrell slowly stood. He brought his arms up and folded them over his head as he walked a few paces away.

  "This shit cannot be happening," he whispered to himself.

  "I think it's best if we don't drag this out. It's already going to be hard enough without us doing that, so..."

  Darrell swung around and stared at her. "Jerra, come on. Don't ask me to leave my son. To leave you." He blinked rapidly. Glancing away, he took a huge breath before looking at her again. "Don't ask me to walk away from my family."

  "It's too late," she whispered, truly as devastated as he was.

  Growing up in a household where she'd been neglected by her mother and later abused and sexually assaulted by her stepfather, Jerra had learned how to erect an armor of protection around her that was as impenetrable as a brick wall. That same barrier shielded her. She would deal with the pain and heartache later, but right now, she needed every bit of strength she possessed to get through the next few minutes without breaking down.

  "If you want to take a few things with you now, that's fine, but to be honest, I'd rather we make arrangements for you to come back and get the rest when I'm not here. I don't think D.J. should be either. He doesn't need to see that. He's going to be hurt enough."

  "Then don't ask me to move out." Seeing how unmoved she remained, Darrell's eyes darted around the kitchen before they came back to her. "This is a big house. What if I move into one of the bedrooms on the other side while we work this out?"

  Jerra's voice was devoid of any emotion. She forced her next words out past stiff lips. "I'm not sure we can work things out this time. I don't even know if I want to. "

  Darrell didn't move a muscle. He didn't even blink. "What are you saying, Jerra? You want a divorce?"

  She stared at him for a long time before saying, "You need to go tell your son goodbye."

  "Just like that. I make one mistake and it's over. Is that all our marriage is worth to you."

  "It’s not just one mistake and it's not the first time you've made it. I don't trust you anymore, Darrell."

  "And I’m just supposed to go along with this foolishness about us separating? Jerra, look at me."

  The silence stretched between them. Lips pressed together, Jerra forced herself to do as he asked.

  "If you need some time, I'll give you some time, but anything else?” He shook his head, refusing to even say the word ‘divorce’ again. “You might as well get that out of your mind."

  "I told you before, I refuse to share you with her or any other woman. That’s what I'd be doing if we stayed together."

  "You're serious, aren't you?"

  Darrell’s hands clenched then flexed. In his head, he knew he should leave before he made things worse, but his instincts urged him to do just the opposite. He and Jerra had never had a problem when it came to the physical side of their relationship. He was tempted to indulge in another form of communication in order to get her to see how crazy this was. He was prepared to do whatever he had to because there was no way he was losing his wife.

  Several moments passed as they stared at each other. Jerra refused to back down and Darrell was not giving in without a fight. He was seconds away from hauling her ass upstairs and making love to her until she forgot how to even pronounce the word divorce when the doorbell rang. Neither one of them moved until it rang a second time.

  "Are you going to get that or do I have to?" Jerra asked.

  "This is more important than whoever is at the door."

  "Darrell..."

  "Tell me you're not gonna rush into anything, Jerra." His next words were some of the hardest he'd ever spoken, but he forced himself to get them out. "I'll...leave but you gotta promise to give us some time before you-"

  The doorbell ringing a third time interrupted what he was saying.

  "Damn, who da fuck…?" Darrell exploded. He knew it wasn't their friends because
he'd spoken to Marcus and Dominick little more than an hour ago. They'd made arrangements to get together at Dom and Keisha's house in a couple of days, but everybody was busy with their families until then.

  Storming off, he took angry, impatient steps down the hallway and through the foyer to the door. Whoever had taken it upon themselves to just drop in like this was getting ready to get their fucking feelings hurt because he was not in the mood to be tactful.

  Swinging the door open, he glared at a man standing there with his back to him looking out into Darrell's yard. For a moment, Darrell paused. Something looked familiar about his stance, but Darrell didn't think they’d ever met.

  "Yeah, can I help you?" A discouraging scowl accompanied the intentionally curt question. He half expected Jerra to be standing behind him admonishing him about his deliberate rudeness, but with a burst of regret, he remembered that she didn't give a fuck what he did right now. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  When the man turned around, Darrell mentally shook off the conversation he and Jerra had been engaged in and gave the stranger his attention. Darrell's frown deepened. Now that he saw him fully, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this man from somewhere.

  He was tall, in fact a little bit taller than Darrell, and had strong, masculine features. Expensively dressed, his frame was fit and muscular, and his skin tone was a healthy rich shade of brown.

  But what made Darrell pause were his eyes.

  He himself was used to hearing comments about his own slate, gray eyes, so much so that it didn't even faze him anymore. It was normally the first thing women gushed about. But this dude's eyes were lighter than his, almost silver, and they were sizing him up the same way Darrell was doing him.

  His sixth sense went haywire. Heeding the warning, Darrell straightened to his full 6' plus height and went on the alert in case something jumped off.

  "Can I help you, bruh?" he asked again in a deep voice.

  The man took his time answering. He'd been studying Darrell, seemingly as taken aback by what he saw as Darrell had been. "I'm looking for Tina Monroe. Does she live here?"

  Perplexed, Darrell folded his arms, his biceps bulging, and cocked a brow. That was the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. Looking the guy up and down, he asked snidely, “Who are you?"

  A frown slashed across the man's face. The vibe of instant dislike that flowed between them went both ways.

  "I'm someone who's looking for Tina Monroe," he repeated in the same tone Darrell had used. "Is she here or nah?"

  "What tha…?"

  Arms unfolding slowly, Darrell stepped closer to the stranger. He had no idea who this dude was, but he'd chosen the wrong day to get up in his face with some bullshit. The wrong got damn day. Darrell was seconds away from giving him an ass kicking like none he’d ever experienced.

  "Hold da fuck up. I don't know who you think you talkin' to, but you standing in front of my mu'fuckin' house, not the other way around, so if you think-"

  "Darrell?" Jerra opened the door behind him and stepped out. She could tell from the tense set of his shoulders that he was thoroughly ticked off. "What's going on?"

  "Don't worry about it, Jerra, just some clown who-."

  "Jerra?" Hearing her name, the man’s gaze skyrocketed towards her. Recognition lit up in his eyes and his previously tightly set lips softened into a smile. "Jerra St. James?"

  The look Jerra sent him was distant and cool, but moments later, her demeanor thawed. "Ren?"

  He laughed and nodded. Ignoring Darrell, he leaned down and gave Jerra a brief kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, it's me. Damn, how are you?"

  "I'm...fine. Wow. It's been a long time."

  Darrell was quiet as he watched the exchange, but his sharp eyes bounced between the two of them, not missing a thing.

  "Yeah, it has,” the man answered. “About ten years, huh? You look great. You've hardly changed at all."

  Jerra ducked her head as if suddenly aware of the normal around the house casual Saturday attire she had on which consisted of blue jean shorts and a t-shirt. Darrell squinted when she smiled and tugged the fitted shirt down a little before tucking a lock of her naturally curly hair behind her ear.

  "I wouldn't say that. My hips and thighs would beg to differ," she laughed.

  His eyes lingered appreciatively on the parts of her anatomy she'd just mentioned. The attention he gave them was brief, but not brief enough to escape Darrell's intent gaze.

  Eyes never leaving the stranger who seemed a little bit too friendly with his wife for his liking, Darrell asked through stiff lips, "You know this guy, Jerra? He says he's here to see Tina."

  Jerra's brow wrinkled delicately. "You know Tina?"

  "Actually, no, but..." He paused, his eyes moving from Jerra to Darrell as if reluctant to speak his business in front of someone he didn't know.

  "Excuse me, let me introduce you. Lorenzo, this is my husband, Darrell Monroe."

  Something flickered in Lorenzo's eyes when he realized Darrell and Tina had the same last name. "You and Tina Monroe are related?"

  "She's my mother." A feeling of dread began to form in Darrell’s chest. Lorenzo? This guy had the same name as... Heart beating, Darrell stared at Jerra. "Who is this? How do you two know each other?"

  "Well, um, you’re already aware that my old firm paid for me to go to law school. That's where I met Renzo."

  Renzo smiled. "Yep, good ole John Jay in NYC."

  Jerra returned his smile before looking back at Darrell. "Renzo was finishing up his last year, preparing to take the bar. He was a big help to me and a few other first year law students."

  "I bet he was," Darrell muttered loud enough for Renzo to hear.

  The indulgent smile Renzo directed towards Jerra slowly disappeared as he and Darrell glared at one another.

  Jerra's eyes darted from one to the other, frowning when she noticed the similarities of their features…especially while they stood glowering with such outright hostility. But it was more than that. She peered closer, trying to figure out what it was. Then, just like that, it hit her. It wasn’t just their features that were strikingly alike. It was their eyes, their similar build, and the mutinous expressions that had settled on their faces.

  Stricken, her breath caught in her throat as she realized why the name Pattel had sounded so familiar to her when Darrell mentioned it. In law school, she’d heard it whispered a few times in reference to Lorenzo, but that wasn’t the name he’d used back then. Jerra remembered that one night after cramming for a test, she asked him about it.

  Lorenzo had sat back and stared at her for a full thirty seconds before briefly acknowledging that Pattel was his legal name but for reasons he didn’t want to get into, he went by his mother’s maiden name. The subject never came up again and Jerra never mentioned it to anyone. Soon after, Lorenzo graduated. They hadn’t spoken to or seen each other since.

  Staring at him now, Jerra brought a hand up to cover her mouth while blindly reaching behind her for something to hold on to as everything fell into place.

  Darrell quickly slipped an arm around her waist. At the same time, Renzo materialized at her other side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Darrell glared at his hand and pulled Jerra towards him.

  "I got her. I can take care of my wife."

  Renzo's face knotted up, his dislike for Darrell intensifying with each passing second, but he stepped back without saying anything.

  Jerra looked from one of them to the other, her heart beating furiously in her chest. "Darrell..."

  "Baby, you okay? Come inside and sit down while I get you a bottle of water." The look he cut Renzo's way clearly told the other man that the invitation was not meant for him.

  "D-Darrell, no. Wait. I..." She briefly closed her eyes before continuing the introduction. "Darrell, this...this is Lorenzo…Pattel."

  Stunned when Jerra confirmed his suspicions, Darrell pulled his eyes away from her and settled them on Lorenzo. His chest rose and fel
l as his breathing increased. He needed to hear it from Lorenzo. Darrell needed him to say it out loud. "Why are you looking for my mother?"

  Lorenzo's expression said he was trying to figure out what he was missing. "She phoned my office a few weeks ago, left a message and a number for me to call her but I was out of the country. I just got back last night. That's why it took me so long to get in contact with her."

  Lorenzo didn't add anything to his statement, but his lips clamped together as he remembered the ensuing argument he'd had with his father. Isaac Pattel had all but threatened his secretary with the loss of her job if she told Lorenzo about the call. Luckily, Sheila Manning was fiercely loyal to him. She'd called Lorenzo immediately and told him what happened.

  Of course he'd assured Sheila that her job was safe. There was no way he could run his office without her. Plus, Lorenzo trusted her implicitly. Her actions in notifying him about the call, even with the threat of losing her job, were exactly why. He hadn't been able to leave the Caribbean because he'd been in the middle of finalizing a very important business deal, in addition to…other things. But his curiosity had been piqued to say the least. Why would his father take such drastic steps to try and block him from getting this woman's message?

  Lorenzo had called a private detective not affiliated with his family. He'd given him what little information he had, which was Tina's name and the phone number she'd left, but that had been enough. Less than twenty-four hours later, the detective had tracked Tina down to this address and faxed the information he'd obtained in his investigation to Lorenzo.

  However, nothing in the report clued Lorenzo in as to who this woman was and why she'd made his father react so out of character. Absolutely nothing got to his dad. He and his cousins would sometimes joke around that his father and theirs, Lorenzo's Uncle Joseph, had ice water running through their veins. But this had definitely shook Isaac up for some reason and Lorenzo wanted to know why.

  As soon as his business was concluded, he'd flown home. The confrontation with his father had not been pretty. Isaac Pattel was used to his word being law, but Lorenzo inherited his stubborn tenacity honestly and refused to back down.