Beaux yelled, “Nooooooo, Mama, please!”
I picked up the recliner as though it was my wrestling opponent, then slammed it to the floor. If the baby wasn’t mine, I had no reason to live—and no reason not to kill Chicago.
CHAPTER 51
Chicago
“Why did you come here? My baby and I are fine. You’re free to be with her.”
Madison probably thought I was upset from all that had happened a few days ago. I wasn’t. She was beautiful. After hours of labor and sweating, Madison had looked amazing. She and the baby were leaving the hospital tomorrow. Every man would want this woman—if they knew not the drama she towed.
My voice trembled. “Madison, I love you. I’m so excited—”
She interrupted, “What’s the ‘but,’ Roosevelt?” Her tone was flat. Unemotional.
She knew me well. “It can wait until you get home.”
“ ‘Home’? I haven’t seen you in three days. Are you referring to my place or yours?” she asked. “I’m okay, either way.”
“I have a driver picking you up in the morning. Madison, let’s just wait—”
“Roosevelt, please. Our son is born. He’s healthy. He needs his father. There’s nothing we can’t work out.”
“You’re right about some of that.” I reached into my back pocket.
My wife stared at the television, picked up the remote, then increased the volume. It didn’t matter if she screamed or cried. I expected her to perform. Nothing she’d do would change my mind.
No one knew what was about to take place. I hadn’t told Chaz, my grandfather, my dad, or my mom. I removed three sets of legal documents; then I handed the first set to Madison.
She glanced up at me. She slowly unfolded the papers. Her eyes scanned left to right, again and again. I kept quiet.
After ten minutes of shared silence, I handed her a pen. “I know you’re good at signing. You can do this.” I pointed to where I needed her signature.
“One day you love me, and now you want a divorce? You brought these papers here, to the hospital! That’s inhumane.”
“I don’t need to tell you what’s inhumane, Madison. I loved you like—”
“ ‘Loved’?”
I hesitated for a moment. “Okay, I love you. But I’m finally over you. I’m not in love with you anymore.”
“Since when? Is it Sindy? You let her come in the birthing room and didn’t ask her to leave. That was wrong, Roosevelt!”
I could’ve said, “I didn’t know Sindy was coming, and I didn’t know what to say to her. But the second I saw her, I knew I wanted to be with her.”
I could’ve asked Madison, “Why was the dude who tried to kill me standing outside the nursery, pacing back and forth?” Loretta had come and warned me of all the things Madison wouldn’t. If I stayed with Madison, Granville was going to kill me. Well, he could have Madison.
“What about you getting my house back? Buying me a car? Saving my family’s company? You took care of all of my medical expenses for my breast surgeries. You made sure I had the best health care. You let me come home before I had the baby. Now that our son is here, you want to divide our family? I can’t sign this.”
Sindy had warned me this would happen. Good ole Madison Tyler. Always expected things to be right, even when she knew she was wrong.
“You can. And you will. Madison, you married a man. A real man. Money don’t make me. I make money. I have no regrets for anything I’ve done for you. And I’m keeping my commitment to pay for your implants. You deserve the best. You just don’t deserve me as your husband. No matter how generous I am, I’m nobody’s fool. You didn’t have a problem leaving me for dead. Don’t have a problem letting me go. Sign the damn papers.”
Madison nodded. “Yeah, that’s Sindy, all right. You don’t even sound like Roosevelt. If this is what you really want, be sure. Once I’m gone, I’m not coming back.”
“I’m sure” was all I said. This wasn’t as easy as it may have appeared. I loved this woman.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she scribbled her name in several places. “What about our son? What about Zach?”
When we heard, “Breaking news,” we glanced up at the television.
“A child is listed in critical condition this morning,” the reporter said.
My heart pounded against my chest like a bass drummer beating with all his strength.
The reporter continued, “It happened at the pool area of the famous hotel—”
I gasped. That was where Madison and I had our reception. That five-star hotel didn’t deserve bad publicity again.
“The two six-year-olds were playing, when one child reportedly found a gun. It’s believed that the little boy didn’t know it was loaded. He pointed it at his twin sister’s head, then pulled the trigger.”
Madison buried her face in the pillow and screamed, “That could’ve been our child!”
Fast-forward six years, and she was right. But right now, she was desperately trying to hold on to our marriage.
That was the type of hotel where we’d take our child for the experience. Backtrack seven months, that could be the . . .
The reporter said, “Investigators believe that could be the same gun used to shoot Roosevelt Chicago DuBois. If it is, the judge who acquitted Granville Washington could be in very hot water for overruling the jury’s decision to give Granville Washington two possible life sentences. Keep it here. We’ll keep you posted.”
I took the signed divorce papers from Madison, then handed her another set. “Sign this one too. I’m selling Tyler Construction, and it’s not open for discussion.”
“What about my dad?” she asked.
“Don’t. You know we were firing him. He can take his money and start all over, or keep spending it on sexing young girls. Either way, my family wants no part of it.”
“I am your family,” she said.
I waved the divorce papers in her face.
Quietly she scribbled. I looked to make sure it was her real signature.
My eyes watered for those children. When I leave here, I’d stop by the hospital and offer support to their family.
“Here’s the paternity test results,” I said, dropping the papers onto her lap. “And I have one more set of documents for you. You’ll get those later.”
It hurt me to admit that Loretta was right. I had to end everything with Madison.
Zach was mine, and I was filing for sole custody.
. . . To Be Continued
A READING GROUP GUIDE
I’D RATHER BE WITH YOU
Mary B. Morrison
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions that follow are included to enhance your group’s reading of this book.
Discussion Questions
1. What do you believe is Madison’s motivation for taking Roosevelt off the respirator? Under her circumstances, what would you have done? Why?
2. Give an example where a character feels another character is wrong, but the character who is pissed off has done the same exact thing to someone else in the story. Do you know people who have done this as well?
3. Does Tisha have an obligation to tell her husband that she is pregnant? Under the circumstances, should Darryl (or any man) have any control over whether or not a woman has an abortion?
4. Do you believe Loretta is a lesbian? Is she in love with Madison or just jealous of Madison?
5. Do you feel Chicago unconditionally loves Madison? Is Madison in love with Chicago? Should they stay together? Or should Chicago leave?
6. Is Sindy Singleton the woman for Chicago? Or does she have a motive?
7. What’s the deal with Raynard? Why did he wait so long to turn over the videotape of the shooting? Why didn’t the tape help convict Granville? Should Raynard and Loretta reunite?
8. Who is ultimately responsible for Chicago being shot?
9. Do you feel Rosalee knows her husband is a cheater? Assuming she does, why is she still
married to him? Is infidelity a justification for divorce? Would you vote in favor of divorce becoming illegal?
10. Based on testimonies from Loretta, Madison, Chicago, and Chaz, do you believe the judge made the right decision in declaring a mistrial? Why?
11. If you saw a man with an amazing body, would you think he’s an ex-con? Do you believe women fall for attractive men and seldom question their backgrounds? Would you marry an ex-con if you were friends with him/her before he/she was convicted? Why?
12. How many happily married couples do you know? What do you believe makes their marriage successful?
13. Are you happy that Madison’s baby was fathered by Chicago? Or would you have preferred Granville as the father? Do you think Granville would’ve been a good dad? Would you have his baby? Why?
The IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU series continues with
If You Don’t Know Me
In stores April 2014
CHAPTER 1
Sindy
“When he walks in, you’ll walk out.”
“Are you sure?” Nyle Carter asked me as the prison guard closed the door to our private glass-enclosed room.
I didn’t blink as I said, “Help me get Granville back behind bars and you’ll be discharged the same day he’s booked. The remaining two and a half years of your three-year sentence will vanish. You’ll be on a one-year probation with an officer I know personally. It’s all taken care of.”
Trust your instincts. That was how I lived. My word was a firm commitment. Since I was a little girl, if Sindy Singleton made a promise, I kept it.
This morning I’d coiled my long, straight, cinnamon-colored hair into a donut-size bun, which sat at the nape of my neck. My cream-colored pants, which I only wore when I visited the federal detention center, were loosely fitted. A simple short-sleeved white blouse draped to my hips. Soft leather flats clung to my feet. No lipstick. No perfume. No jewelry. My purse was in the trunk of my Bentley. My keys were in one of the small lockers in the lobby. My Texas driver’s license was left with the guard at the security entrance.
Sitting in a room reserved for attorney/client face-to-face privileges, I was the attorney. Nyle Carter was not. I needed this inmate’s help, the same as he desired mine.
“Let me get this straight. I have to find a way to bring Granville back to prison before you’ll get me out of here?” he asked.
Scanning the visitors’ room, there was a handful of folks who had come to see what I called “the sick and locked up.” I’d bet all of them were guilty, but each had pleaded innocent.
Nyle was known to those on the inside as “G-double-A.” Some youngster by the name of No Chainz had given Nyle the name, saying it meant, “Got all the answers.” I wished that were true.
Nyle was handsome, above average. Put a suit on this man—the way he used to sport one every day—and no one would believe he waited until he was forty years old to get himself arrested. Not that there was a better time, but there were some people you never envisioned behind bars. With others, you know it wasn’t if they’re going to do time, but when and for how long?
“You were supposed to make sure he never got out. I paid you twenty thousand to give Granville advice that would get him convicted, and make sure he got two consecutive life sentences.”
I was a woman in love with a man who was another woman’s husband. Whatever, and whomever I wanted, was mine. I was thirty. Ready to walk down the aisle. Tired of Madison Tyler-DuBois interfering with my getting to know her husband. I added her to Sindy’s shit list.
Marriages weren’t roped and bound by a license, but our country’s values were still divided. Infidelity was seemingly contagious.
In the South, during slavery, the slaves had ownership papers. If they were fortunate, they lived to see the day the master signed over their freedom. Even when they were freed, they didn’t know where to go or what to do. Some migrated to Chicago, New York, or California to begin a new life. But marriage for a lot of couples, especially those below the Mason-Dixon, was the same. Ownership, control, and, if necessary, abuse blanketed the household. It was better to take the beating and stay than to get a divorce and leave.
This was the case for Madison. She’d almost gotten her husband killed; then she’d taken him off the respirator to watch him die. God had a different plan. Her husband survived. And rather than her letting him love me, she’d prefer to keep him and kill his happiness. Having his baby was the lucky charm that I was about to snatch from her.
He had no idea what to do with Madison. Men generally embraced the “Do as I say” philosophy. The women, “Do as I do.” Neither gave a damn about how the other felt, as long as the women obeyed. Madison wasn’t that type. Neither was I. I was a true Southern belle, born and wrapped in a cloak of confidence.
I was soft, only on the outside.
When I saw on the news that Roosevelt “Chicago” DuBois had been shot three times, I had to get involved. Right now, I had to get more involved with every aspect. If Roosevelt was going to propose to me, I couldn’t give a damn about his trifling wife. She wasn’t nearly as smart as she believed. I had to stop that idiot, Granville Washington, from trying again to kill my future fiancé.
Nyle sat across from me. “He’s not so dumb. He’s actually smart. Tell me what I need to do to walk out of here. I’ll make sure it’s done.”
Nyle’s son was in my I’m Not Locked Up nonprofit program for kids with parents in jail. His son was an amazingly brilliant child. Landry was so impressive that six months ago I accompanied him on a visit to the federal detention center to meet his father.
What kind of man could have single-parented such a child and then ended up behind bars? I had to know. I’d learned that Nyle had an office downtown. He represented hundreds of clients for a decade. Problem was, he’d never passed the bar. How could people retain a lawyer without certifying if the attorney was legit?
I nodded. “Granville is the smartest, dumbest person I’ve seen as well. Do you know how many inmates represent themselves and get off? Almost none. Hearing Granville question Chaz, watching him get Loretta arrested, seeing him present that sex tape of Madison, made me realize we cannot underestimate this guy. When he degraded Roosevelt on the stand and made a mockery of my man, that was it. We’ve got to get him to state, and I’m not talking about a high-school championship. Prison is where Granville belongs.”
Plan A had failed. The two consecutive life sentences he should be serving right now didn’t happen.
Plan B—I had to stop my dad from executing a hit on Roosevelt. My father should’ve never accepted the billionaire’s money. Now he was indebted because I was not marrying that guy. My dad was ruthless, greedy for money and power, and he was also brilliant. He was getting older, but I was getting wiser. I knew never to go against him.
If Plan B didn’t work, then Plan C—I was putting a hit out on Granville. Only his younger brother, Beaux, would miss him. Their mother had recently died. Their father was already dead.
“What do I need to do?” Nyle asked.
“I want you to tell the guard to inform the warden that Granville Washington is attempting to kill Roosevelt again. Lie and say Granville told you this in confidence after his release. Then you must insist that they issue a search warrant for all of his property—his apartment, his car, his mama’s house, and her grave. Trust me, they’ll find the gun somewhere because the gun Granville’s brother had, I planted it and I gave him that lead on where to find it.”
Leaning back, Nyle said, “Her what?”
“You heard me right. Her grave. If they don’t find what they need at any of the first locations, tell them to dig her up, search the soil and her coffin. Roosevelt’s life is dependent on you.”
Roosevelt was a good man. He was the youngest vice president/general manager in the league, and we were blessed to have him for our football team. After all the wrong his wife had done him, he did all the right things for her. A man that wonderful deserved a wife like me.
I didn’t disclose to Nyle the details of what the authorities would find. What my father had done, I was about to undo.
CHAPTER 2
Granville
There had to be a mistake.
My son was a week old. My son. You hear me! I said my son!
People stood at the altar, saying their final words. My mind was on the living. What those people had to say about my family was for them, not for me. There was nothing anyone had said that could bring my mama back.
I didn’t care about my woman texting me a copy of the results showing her husband was 99.99 percent the biological father. That meant there was almost a .01 percent chance the baby could be mine.
People with money think they can buy whatever and whomever they wanted. Well, almost. I might look dumb, but I’m not. All that money Chicago had didn’t keep me behind bars for shooting him. Didn’t matter how much Loretta hated me, I was responsible for making her do thirty days at the federal detention center.
How do I know Madison didn’t pay someone at the lab to alter the results? I had to either find a way to do my own paternity test, or pay a detective to investigate who’s the real daddy.
Madison wouldn’t let me near my baby. Maybe if I showed up at her house tonight, she’d let me in. Or . . . I laughed out loud. Loretta hated me, but she hated Madison more. Maybe I could convince Loretta to help me with my own test.
But first, my brother and I had to bury my mom.
Other than getting a glimpse of baby Zach through the nursery window at the hospital the day he was born, I hadn’t seen him in person. I’d watched the video of his birth two hundred times before someone took it off YouTube.
“Man, it’s time,” Beaux whispered in my ear. “We’ve got to hide this gun in Mom’s casket before they close it for the last time.”
We sat in the front pew. Beaux was still claiming the gun he had was the snub-nosed I’d used to shoot Chicago three times. How could that be if the man who’d hired me to kill Chicago—for $2 million—said he had the gun? Then there was a third gun that these kids found at the scene of the crime. A news reporter alleged that was the gun used to shoot Chicago.
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