My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241)
Page 23
As the crowd thinned out, it was then that Derrick saw me. The expression on his face was one I wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t one of happiness or anger. It was as if he were an empty shell of a man going through the motions just so he could get home. I hoped when he saw my dependability he would see how sorry I was and would let me help him get through everything he was experiencing.
When I made my mind up to approach Derrick, Kea stepped to him. She caressed his arm gently and a bit of jealousy shot through me. Then anger crept in, and again, I tried to remember the words my nurse said to me. This was when I realized my anger was a part of me and so was revenge. I wanted to beat Kea down right here in this graveyard, burying her under one of these tombstones. But I had to maintain my composure. I had to do it for Derrick. My body trembled as I fought the urge to lay hands on this trick, but I held strong and remembered I was here for my boo.
I walked over to the two of them carrying on a conversation. I overheard something about getting paternity test results in a couple of days. Then Derrick nudged Kea, who turned her attention from him to me as I stepped to them. All conversation ceased when I approached. I was hoping Derrick would be the first one to speak, and he was, but I didn’t like what came out of his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he said angrily through clenched teeth.
“Derrick, I wanted to come and show my support. I heard about what happened and—”
“And what? You came to gloat?” he said.
“No.”
“You have some nerve showing your face here today.”
“I came here for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to come. Never once did I pick up a phone and say, ‘Zacariah, I need you.’”
“But I knew you would,” I said, watching Kea smirk and shake her head in dismay.
“Are you happy that the man I never got to know is dead? Or is this some sick way of you seeing Kea and me together, knowing we can never be lovers ...?”
Just him saying the words “Kea” and “lovers” in the same sentence made me cringe. But I held my ground.
“No. Please. Just hear me out, Derrick,” I pleaded trying to look sincere, but it was hard seeing Kea getting some satisfaction out of Derrick embarrassing me in front of everybody.
“Why should I listen to anything you have to say? You have been the worst thing that has ever happened in my life. I don’t even want to look at you right now,” he said walking away. I watched him head in the direction of his mother who was glaring at me with undisguised disdain. That woman never liked me.
“You really got some nerve showing your face here,” Kea said with her black clutch in her hand. With a black suit on, hair pulled back, and shades shielding her eyes, I still thought I was better looking than she was. I still didn’t see what Derrick ever saw in her.
“I didn’t come here for any drama, Kea.”
“That’s all you’re full of, Zacariah. Everywhere you go there is a theatrical performance with you playing the leading role as queen bitch.”
I smiled smugly trying not to reach out and smack the hell out of this trick.
“And here you are proving my point by reveling in our sorrow at our dad’s funeral. Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower, you somehow find new depths of dirt to throw in our faces. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since low-down is your customary ranking.”
My heart was beating so fast. I felt sweat beads building underneath my clothes, and one of my hands balled into a fist.
I said, “I didn’t come here in triumph. Does it look like I have a victorious expression on my face? I’m saddened by what has happened, and I came here to support Derrick.”
“Well, how did that work out for you? As you can see, he still wants nothing to do with you.”
“I completely understand that, but I won’t stop trying to be there for him. I love him.”
Kea removed her shades and looked at me through squinted eyes. I didn’t care if she saw how genuine I was or not because I wasn’t here for her. I was here for Derrick. And since she couldn’t comfort him like she used to, I knew he needed me back in his life. If he just gave me a chance, I could show him how right we were for each other.
“Leave Derrick alone,” Kea said slowly like I was dense and couldn’t comprehend her words.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Stay away from him.”
“And who the hell are you?” I questioned with attitude wondering why this female always had to test me.
“Just because you think I’m his sister doesn’t mean I will not be in his life. If anything, I’m going to be there for him even more.”
“Too bad it won’t be in his bed again,” I retorted.
“It doesn’t have to be his bed when I got his heart,” she said causing me to breathe deeply.
His heart. I had his heart ... I thought.
“I’m going to be there to tell him to stay as far away from you as he possibly can. You are a manipulative, trifling little whore. If you ever come near him, I will beat you down like I did before. I warned you, and you crossed me. I showed what I’m made of too, so please try me again. I dare you.”
No, this trick wasn’t threatening me on the sacred ground of souls resting. The pastor who gave the eulogy stood several feet away chatting to some of the mourners but still managed to cast some worried stares in our direction. I took a deep breath clasping my hands in front of me. I was trying to play it cool, and she’s the one getting ignorant with me. I swear I saw her neck roll and her pointing her little finger at me like I’m her child or something. I nodded, smiling slyly.
“You caught me off guard before, Kea, but don’t think I’m going to ever let you get me like that again. You better be glad I’m not sweeping the ground with you right now. And some words of advice. Don’t you ever threaten me again,” I said like nothing was going on between us. Just a little friendly conversation was what we were having in everyone else’s eyes.
“Oh, it wasn’t a threat, Zacariah. It’s a promise,” Kea said before walking away.
A promise? Didn’t I just tell her to not threaten me again? I chuckled as she made her way back to Derrick and his mom. All of them walked toward the waiting limousines. I smiled at the pastor who was still staring me down. Then I brushed my suit, tucked my purse under my arm, and proceeded to my car all the while wishing I had jerked Kea by her ponytail and slammed her face into these granite headstones. But I shook the thoughts off and thought of other ways to get her back.
Taking out my cell phone I found the number to my cousin.
“Hey, girl. Do you think you can stop by and see me today... For what? Don’t be questioning me. Just come over as soon as possible. I need a huge favor from you, and I can guarantee I will make it worth your while.”
About the Author
Tresser Henderson was raised in the small town of Skipwith, Virginia. Brought up by both her mother and father, she was the oldest of three siblings. At the age of fifteen, she realized writing a book was something she wanted to do. This was ironic since she didn’t like to read. Never pursuing this, she went on to graduate from high school and college, getting an associate’s degree in computer medical administration. Then Tresser worked for a major health insurance company. It wasn’t until she was brought to a crossroad in her life that someone helped her realize writing was her God-given talent that she was supposed to be doing. Not letting this opportunity slip away again, she followed her dream. At this point in her life, Tresser developed her latent passion—reading. This, along with life’s challenges, helped fuel Tresser’s passion for the art of writing fictional stories. Getting married and having her children rank at the top of her life’s blessings. Having the courage to step out in faith and accomplish her dreams comes in second. Tresser is currently working on the sequel to her novel.
Urban Books, LLC
78 East Industry Court
Deer Park, NY 11729
My Man’s Be
st Friend Copyright © 2012 Tresser Henderson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6228-6024-1
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living, or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Submit Wholesale Orders to:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
C/O Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Attention: Order Processing
405 Murray Hill Parkway
East Rutherford, NJ 07073-2316
Phone: 1-800-526-0275
Fax: 1-800-227-9604