Pretty Kings II

by T. Styles

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  PRETTY KINGS 2

  Scarlett’s Fever

  By T. Styles

  Copyright © 2013 by The Cartel Publications. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission

  from the author, except by reviewer who may quote passages

  to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,

  Organizations, places, events and incidents are the product of the

  Author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance of

  Actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921262

  ISBN 10: 0989084523

  ISBN 13: 978-0989084529

  Cover Design: Davida Baldwin www.oddballdsgn.com

  Graphics: Davida Baldwin

  www.thecartelpublications.com

  First Edition

  Printed in the United States of America

  What’s Up Fam,

  Let me start by saying that this joint is one of our most highly anticipated sequels. BET called the first one a ‘must read’ and T. Styles has done an amazing job in the follow up to the original. “Pretty Kings 2” comes out the corner swinging and left me with my mouth open several times. It’s so much drama and turmoil unfolding on each page that by the time you wrap your head around it all you’re sadly at the end. I loved it and you will too!

  Keeping in line with tradition, we want to give respect to a vet or trailblazer paving the way. With that said we would like to recognize:

  Shonda Rhimes

  Shonda Rhimes is a screenwriter, director and producer. She is best known as the head writer, creator and executive producer of the medical drama TV series, “Grey’s Anatomy” and its spin off, “Private Practice”. She is also the creator of the breakout political drama TV series, “Scandal”. Ms. Rhimes continues to thrill audiences week after week with her creativity and we support her all the way. Make sure you check out her work, I promise, you will become addicted.

  Ok, go ‘head and dive in! I’ll get at you in the next novel. Happy Holidays!

  Be Easy!

  Charisse “C. Wash” Washington

  Vice President

  The Cartel Publications

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  Dedication

  This novel is dedicated to all my fans.

  Twisted T. Styles

  PROLOGUE

  The moonlight from the open window shined against Scarlett Kennedy’s pale white skin as she lay in the bed. She was suffering from a high fever. Although she was asleep her head shifted slowly from left to right, as she was held captive in a nightmare. She had done a lot of bad things over the past few months and now her mind kept her in prison, and forced her to relive each moment.

  Race Kennedy, her sister-in-law, paced the floor in front of Scarlett’s large cherry wood carved bed. The nine-millimeter in the back of her jeans rubbed against her flesh. She was worried about her because although they were only related by marriage, she loved her like she was her real sister.

  Over the past six months, the Kennedys had suffered great loss. Their entire family was being torn apart member by member and Race was praying for a miracle.

  Slowly Race approached Scarlett’s bedside. She stood over her fever struck body and placed her hand on her arm. The heat rising from Scarlett’s skin quickly warmed her hand.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Scarlett, but you can’t die on me. You can’t die on us. We’ve been through too much and if you leave me,” she paused, “if you leave us I don’t think we’ll ever be able to recover. You gotta fight. You gotta stay alive.”

  Race removed her hand and walked toward the window. She pushed the dark burgundy curtain further to the side and glanced into the darkness. The crickets sang softly in the background and a full moon lit up the night. It seemed eerie that although life inside the Kennedy compound was sorrowful, outside, under the purple sky, everything seemed peaceful.

  Turning back around, Race leaned up against the wall and looked back down at Scarlett’s body. The butt of her gun banged against her tailbone. Suddenly she focused on the bedroom door.

  “Bambi, I don’t know what you planned but I need you to hurry up and get here now.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  SCARLETT

  *SIX MONTHS EARLIER*

  I scooped a pile of scrambled eggs and cheese onto the pink China plate and they knocked against the large sausage next to them. Carefully I walked over to the dining room table where Camp sat at the head. I nervously placed the plate in front of him, rubbed my pregnant belly and sat in the chair to his left.

  “You said you wanted to talk earlier,” I said softly. “I’m here.”

  I needed to choose my words carefully around Camp. I needed to do everything around him carefully. We were enemies in our own home and it killed me. I was always walking on eggshells.

  Camp’s dark eyes peered at me. I could feel his hate for me in his heart and I was afraid that nothing I did would make him feel better. And that included having his first child.

  When he didn’t speak I decided to fill the air between us with small talk. “I made your eggs the way you like them. With cheese and—”

  Camp knocked the plate off the table, sending it spinning on the dining room floor. The fluffy yellow eggs fell on top of my foot and rested against my big toe.

  I looked down at the mess that I spent twenty minutes cooking. Slowly I raised my head and looked into my husband’s eyes. No matter how angry he was with me I loved him. More than
I loved myself. It didn’t hurt that he was so handsome with his smooth brown skin and boxer’s physique. He spent a lot of time in the gym and his body reflected it. But he resembled a monster at the moment. The monster that wanted my life.

  “Camp, why do you hate me so much?” I asked softly. “Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean we can’t get along for the baby. Isn’t that what you want? For us to have peace for our first child? Because without you I don’t think I can do it. I need you by my side but I don’t want us to be fighting and saying hurtful things to each other.”

  I looked into his eyes hoping I was talking some sense into him. But I couldn’t read his expression. He was stone.

  When he finally spoke his words sent chills down my spine.

  “You just couldn’t wait before you gave your pussy to another nigga?”

  “I thought you were gone, Camp. I thought you were out of my life and I was lonely. And you told me you wanted a divorce before you left so I had nothing to hold onto even if you were alive. Don’t you realize how much I love you? If there were the slightest chance that you still wanted me I wouldn’t be in this situation now. Ngozi wouldn’t be a factor.”

  “You don’t get it,” he said as he clenched his fists and banged his knuckles against the table. “It ain’t ‘bout you fucking somebody. I told you I wanted a divorce and that you could do what you wanted with your pussy. But you pregnant with my kid right now. Don’t you have any respect for that shit? You due any day now, Scarlett. Yet you running around here letting other niggas dump inside your body on top of my seed.”

  Tears poured down my face and I wiped them away. Camp was stabbing at my heart repeatedly and he didn’t care.

  When Camp showed up and popped out of that white van that day with Kevin, Ramirez and Bradley, I thought I was dreaming. How could he be alive? I thought he was dead. My sisters-in-law and I all did.

  It turned out that when the mass murderer came into the casino, the Kennedy Kings thought The Russians were trying to attack them by masquerading behind the killer. So while the bodies were dropping they were able to escape as the killer went toward the back to murder more people.

  Instead of telling us where they were, and that they were alive, they went into hiding. They said the reason they stayed away was because they hoped that The Russians would believe that they were actually dead. When someone, who they won’t name, let them know that things were going well and that we were making money, they believed the coast was clear and returned to us. I don’t know about my sisters but it never sat right with me how they treated us.

  I brought my suspicions to the other sisters and only Bambi agreed that something else was up with them. We both felt they didn’t trust us and that they felt we had something to do with the hit at the casino. Why else would they not tell us they were okay? We were married to them. If they couldn’t trust us whom could they trust?

  “Camp, this is so unfair to me. All I ever wanted was to love you.”

  “Oh that’s how you remember it?”

  “I had my problems but all marriages have troubles. Why didn’t you want to work it out with me?”

  “Because of your temper. I can’t have no woman hitting me in my face every time she get mad or shit don’t go her way. Before you I never been with somebody so violent. You had me wanting to hurt you, Scarlett. Real bad. And that ain’t my makeup.”

  He was right. Sometimes I was overwhelmed with anger and I didn’t know how to deal with it. When I was able to control it a little I would scratch his car or rip up his clothes. But since he had as much money as he did, none of that fazed him. He just simply bought more clothes. Nothing seemed to bother him so sometimes I…hit him.

  “I understand that we couldn’t work because of my temper.”

  “So what you talking about then?”

  “I’m just trying to get you to understand why I moved on. If you didn’t want me when you were alive there was nothing I could hold onto after I thought you were dead. I’m not like you, Camp. I get lonely and I needed somebody to—”

  “Take care of you,” he said interrupting me.

  “That’s not fair!”

  “It may not be fair but it’s true.”

  He moved around in the seat and clenched his fists.

  “Camp, if you don’t want me to be with him I—”

  “Naw, you can do you.” He gritted his teeth. “Because even if you left that nigga it don’t mean I’m gonna take you back.” He knocked loudly on the table again. “I should’ve listened to my aunt Bunny though. I ain’t have no business fucking no white bitch.”

  The air felt like it was knocked out of my body. “Why is it that every time we get into it you strike me hard by bringing up my race?” I asked raising my voice. “I already know I’m white. I was white when you met me. I was white when you married me. I was white when you left me and I’m the white woman carrying our black baby. I deserve more respect than that!”

  I paused and looked over at him. I wanted to detect one ounce of remorse. I didn’t see anything and that made me hate him.

  “Don’t remind me, Scarlett. That’s the one mistake I wish I could take back.”

  Warm tears ran down my face. “You are so hateful!”

  “And you a whore.”

  “Camp!”

  “You are,” he yelled back. “If you continue to let that nigga stick his dick in you while you housing my baby that’s the only thing I’m gonna call you. I need to start treating you how you deserve to be treated. And then you got the nerve to be sleeping with this nigga carrying the Kennedy name. You a disgrace to my family.”

  “Do you still want me or not, Camp?” I asked skipping the subject. Sweat rolled down my forehead. “All you gotta do is say the word and it’s done. I’ll drop Ngozi with the quickness because that’s what this marriage means to me. But you gotta tell me now because I’m lost.”

  His expression softened and I was hopeful that he would say he wanted to work on us. Instead he did what he always did lately— hurt my feelings.

  “I guess I wasn’t black enough for you huh?” he asked looking into my eyes. “You had to take it to the mother land and get a nigga straight from Africa. I hope you getting dicked down good though.”

  “You are so wrong.” I wiped the tears from my face.

  He pounded his fist on the table, which caused the dishes on top of it to rattle. “No, what’s wrong is me coming home after being on the run and having to kick another nigga out my bed. It’s one thing to do you, but then you had the nerve to bring dude inside of our house and our bed. If I was dead I’d be rolling over in my grave right now.” He pulled his hands together and put them in his lap. “The more I think about it I realize that I should’ve never fucked with white bitches. Y’all all the same. Greedy and self-centered.”

  All I could do was look at him. His perfectly bronzed skin. His thick eyebrows and his full lips. Since silence stood between us I glanced over his chin, and then down to his chest and his arms. When I was done I looked back into his eyes. It was as if I saw him for the first time because finally the truth smacked me in the face. He didn’t love me anymore. The only thing he wanted to do was hurt me and make me pay. I now know that we truly are over and there was nothing else I could do.

  “I won’t bother you anymore, Camp.” I picked the food up off the floor and put it on the plate. I walked it over to the kitchen and placed it on the counter. “I’m done fighting for you.”

  “So now you wanna play the martyr?”

  “It ain’t about playing the martyr. It’s about the fact that I now understand that you hate me. I also realize we moved quickly when we got married. We didn’t get a chance to know one another before we decided to share a life together. Big mistake on both of our parts. Add on top of that, that we’re involved in an interracial relationship and things are just unbearable. But you need to know this, I love you and even when Ngozi’s dick was inside my body, I never stopped whispering your name. I neve
r stopped thinking about you. It may be wrong but I’m not afraid to admit it.”

  A horn beeped outside and I knew who it was— Ngozi.

  “You bought the nigga a car and everything huh?”

  I shook my head. I was done arguing with Camp. If he truly wanted it to be over it would be just that. But it was time for me to hurt his feelings like he did mine.

  “What I buy Ngozi and what I do to him ain’t got shit to do with you. Remember? You don’t want me.”

  “Be glad my mother raised me right, Scarlett.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I would’ve smashed your skull in just now.”

  “What about the black baby I’m carrying?” I said sarcastically. “Since you don’t care about my white ass you gotta remember that.”

  “At this point I wouldn’t even give a fuck.”

  I walked toward the couch in the living room, grabbed my butter colored Hermés bag and looked back at him.

  “If you don’t give a fuck about this baby, there are always things I can do to correct the situation. Don’t test me, Camp. Like I said, you never got the chance to really know me. But I do know you and your weaknesses.”

  ****

  I eased into the passenger seat of Ngozi’s cream BMW that I bought him. He handed me a beautiful long stemmed rose and grinned at me. I smiled back.

  He was cute with his high cheekbones and dark chocolate skin. Although he looked in my opinion younger than me, he was actually about five years older.

  I met Ngozi when I was at the lowest point of my life. Although I never dated black men before Camp, I was hoping to recreate the experience by dating Ngozi. I know it sounds ignorant on my part but it was the way I was thinking at the time. I missed Camp more than I realized back then and it messed my mind up. So I started dating. I didn’t just date black men originally. I had been with some white men too, but for some reason it didn’t feel the same. I can’t explain it. I don’t know if the taboo made me more attracted to black men or if I was trying to replace Camp. Whatever the reason when I met Ngozi I was really ready for change.