My Steps Are Ordered

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  No, that’s not it. That would be like the pot calling the kettle black. Since his arrival, Keith hadn’t kept his hands off her. Gina remembered their passionate encounter in her kitchen hallway. She picked up a pencil and tapped her bottom lip.

  No, it has to be something else. “Why won’t he call me?” she groaned. She snapped the pencil in half. Ugh. She threw the two halves in the trashcan located to the left of the computer stand. “Get yourself together, Gina.”

  She opened the desk drawer, took out another pencil, and shoved it in the electric sharpener.

  Michael had remained cool and distant. The two things had to be connected, Gina deduced. She could not feel settled in her spirit until she had answers. All day, throughout her entire visit with Trey, this issue had been at the back of her mind.

  She knew that if anyone would tell her anything, it would be Keith. “But he’s avoiding me.”

  That’s it! She’d had enough! Her pressure level rose, and she snapped another pencil in two. Tossing it in the trash, she grabbed her phone and tapped in Keith’s speed dial number. He’d better pick up! she thought. If he didn’t . . .

  A few seconds later Gina stormed out of the house, her cream linen suit wasn’t warm enough for mid-September, but she was too heated to notice. She marched to her car and jumped in, slamming the door. She fumed the entire ten-minute ride to Keith’s place.

  Her heels clicked on the short path up to his door. Gina pressed the doorbell. She wasn’t going anywhere until he answered. Keith swung open the door with an irate look on his face. He must have awakened moments before, because he was wearing only pajama pants. Keith’s manner was that of a bear awakened from hibernation. She clutched her chest as her heart hammered. In his state of undress, he was eye candy, but she wasn’t going to be distracted.

  “Why haven’t you returned my calls?” she asked, knowing she sounded like a harried housewife, but who cared?

  Keith raised his eyebrows at her possessive tone, but he stayed quiet. Good move. He backed up. “Okay, calm the storm. I feel like I’m about to get struck by lightning. I was reading my Bible,” he finally answered with a soft tone.

  Gina’s mouth hung open like she was a fish out of water. “Oh.” She hadn’t expected to hear that. Now she felt dumb, but she couldn’t think of a comeback to save face.

  Keith lifted one eyebrow and folded his arms in a gesture that was meant to make her back down. He was making his displeasure known at her unexpected visit. He shifted to stand on one leg, which showed off his well-toned muscles and six-pack. Keith did not have any hang-ups with his body, and why would he, when it was stuntman perfect?

  With a huge swallow, Gina strove to hide her discomfort.

  “What did you think?” he asked.

  She wasn’t going to even answer that one.

  He continued. “I have an idea why you’re so upset. You’re used to me always being at your beck and call, and you’re spoiled.”

  She watched Keith bite back a smile while she fumbled with her response. That dimple of his was messing with her senses. “I was worried when you didn’t call me back,” she hedged. Gina turned around and started to walk away from the still open door.

  Keith reached out and snaked his hands around her arm and pulled her into the house. As soon as he closed the door, he whispered, “Seeing you is like fire. I wonder if you smell as good as you look.” He planted a kiss full on her lips, nipped at her ears, and let out a low growl in her hair. “Yes, yes, you do.”

  Goose bumps popped up over all her body. In his arms, Gina couldn’t contain her relief. There was no one else. She could feel Keith’s desire and delighted in every moment. She was still the one. She acknowledged to herself that this was the true reason that she had come over here.

  She ended the embrace and stepped out of his arms. With sadness, she admitted, “You’re right. I’m spoiled and selfish.”

  “I know. I’m the same way when it comes to you.”

  Their eyes met. Gina had to get her lustful thoughts under control. She had another, altruistic motive for being here. “What’s going on with Michael?”

  Keith blinked. “I do know, but it’s not for me to tell. Michael will open up when he is ready.”

  “So I am right!” Gina sighed. She pinned him with her gaze. “Do you think he suspects us?”

  “No,” Keith assured her. “If that were the case, I would’ve told you, and Michael wouldn’t take that sitting down, believe me. He’d erupt.”

  She couldn’t take it anymore. She moved farther into Keith’s space.

  He put his hands up. “What are you doing?”

  She reached out and touched his flat stomach. His muscles flexed under her hands. She luxuriated in his sheer maleness. It was intoxicating. She stood on her tiptoes, kissed his neck, and inhaled his woodsy scent. What was she doing? She didn’t recognize herself at the moment. She knew this was a temptation and that she should resist. It felt so exquisite that she lingered a little longer before finding the restraint to stop.

  Keith smiled and tucked her under the chin to meet her gaze. “I can’t,” he explained.

  “You don’t want to?” she asked, batting her lashes.

  “You know I want to. Please don’t tempt me,” Keith begged.

  Gina nodded. Keith was right, but her heart wanted what it wanted. She reached over and played with his chest. Keith swung his arm and covered her hand to quell her movements.

  “Gina, you’re going to get me in big trouble.”

  Knowing that she was going too far, Gina stilled herself. She didn’t know why she was behaving like a territorial animal. Usually, she tried to fight this attraction, but a raw craving had arisen from Keith’s alleged abandonment, and she was staking her claim.

  He doesn’t belong to you. Gina ignored the voice.

  Keith’s cell rang, and he moved to answer it.

  Gina was annoyed while Keith spoke on the phone, and she showed it.

  “You’d better go,” Keith warned after ending the call. “That was Michael, and he is on his way over here.”

  In a panic, Gina smoothed her clothes and then rushed out the door. It wouldn’t do for her husband to catch her running out of his brother’s house.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two minutes.

  That was how much time he had to throw a shirt on and compose himself before he heard the doorbell ring.

  Michael entered the house and headed straight to the kitchen. Keith smiled in remembrance. Ever since they were boys, Michael had always hit the kitchen upon entering the house. This time was no different. Most times Michael didn’t want anything. He liked browsing. Keith waited for Michael to get to the reason behind his visit.

  Snatching an apple out of the fruit basket, Michael took several big bites, chewing fast.

  “Slow down, bro. The apple isn’t going anywhere,” Keith teased, shaking his head. “You’re such a big kid.”

  Michael waved him off. Keith started to say something, but Michael put a hand up in a silent request for Keith to wait until he was done with the apple. Once he swallowed, Michael lost interest in eating the rest of the apple and set it down on the kitchen counter. Keith noted Michael’s nervousness and sat down on one of the stools, waiting for a valid explanation.

  Michael opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.

  Still trying to recover from the unsatisfactory ending to his visit with Gina, Keith was impatient. “Spit it out.”

  “With no donor in sight, I’m worried about Trey’s chances of survival.”

  “I know. I am too.” Keith nodded vigorously.

  Michael coughed. Whatever it was, Keith knew it had to be difficult for him to say it. Michael was never one to hesitate when it came to asking for his help. “Well, as you know, I am in no position to help the situation.”

  Keith understood his brother’s need to deflate his discomfort with humor. “Michael, don’t put any blame on your shoulders,” Keith advised.

&nbs
p; “I’m becoming resolute about that,” Michael responded. He looked at Keith with determination. “I need to ask you a favor.”

  Uh-oh. Keith didn’t know how to feel whenever Michael asked him for a favor. It was bound to be preposterous or crazy or . . .

  “I want you to give Gina a baby.”

  Out of the question. Keith almost choked from the enormity of Michael’s request. He couldn’t fathom his brother’s reasoning at times. Who would ask his own brother to procreate with his wife?

  Michael must have seen the look on Keith’s face, for he was quick to explain what he had in mind. “You wouldn’t have to do it the natural way. I was thinking more along the lines of artificial insemination . . .”

  Keith picked up Michael’s half-eaten apple and took a big bite. He needed time to think.

  “Yuck. Can’t you get your own apple?” Michael frowned.

  Keith shrugged. He had to chew on something before he said what was most prominent in his mind. He knew that what Michael was asking was common nowadays, but he was flabbergasted at the clinical coldness of creating a child that way. Nevertheless, Keith could understand why his brother would ask. A child’s life was at risk. His child.

  Keith had other worries. Like, what if the baby resembled Trey? He could never explain that as a mere coincidence. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, Keith would laugh at the irony of it all. He was being asked to father a child to save his secret love child. Keith was becoming sick of the lie. It was becoming more convoluted with each passing day.

  When Keith remained silent, Michael ended the conversation by asking him to give it some consideration. Michael also made sure he mentioned how much Trey’s life depended on Keith’s willingness to fulfill his request.

  Keith could feel the guilt pressing down on his shoulders. This was the moment when he could assure Michael that he had no problem sleeping with his wife. Why? Because he had already been there, done that. This was ridiculous. God had a sense of humor! Keith was living proof of that.

  The truth shall set you free.

  Keith opened his mouth to speak; however, Michael beat him to the punch.

  “I wouldn’t ask if I did not know that I can trust you. There’s no doubt in my mind about that,” Michael pleaded.

  Keith shut his mouth and gritted his teeth to keep from blurting he should be the last person Michael trusted.

  Bereft, Michael drove around for a while after leaving Keith’s house. He wasn’t cognizant of getting on the highway and stopping at red lights, for he was so caught up in his thoughts. Before he knew it, Michael was pulling into his mother’s driveway.

  Gerry was happy to see him, but he could see the concern etched on her face. “You look like something the cat dragged in.” She held Michael’s chin and took a good look at him. “You look troubled and gaunt. Are you eating?”

  Michael shook his head. “No, and yes, I feel as bad as I look.”

  His mother herded him into the kitchen and then ambled over to the stove, where she was keeping a pot of curry chicken and white rice warm. She dished up a hearty plate and gave it to Michael. He sat down at the kitchen table and began to eat like he hadn’t consumed a meal in weeks.

  “It does my heart good to see you eat with so much enthusiasm.” She chuckled.

  Michael nodded, but his mouth was full of food, so he refrained from speaking. His mother remained quiet until he’d finished his meal.

  “Talk to me,” Gerry commanded once he’d wiped his mouth.

  Michael put his plate and utensils in the sink and washed his hands. Returning to where his mother sat, he leaned over and grabbed her into a bear hug. Her small frame still provided comfort even at his age and with his bigger size. Then he started talking. Michael told her about the test results and explained that he was infertile. He told her how conflicted he was regarding his feelings for Gina. Michael even told Gerry that he had asked Keith to father a child for him with Gina.

  After hearing that, Gerry put her hands up. “I can’t wrap my head around everything that I’m hearing. When it rains, it pours.” She paced the kitchen. “Son, I know you’re hoping I’ll have something to say, but I’m having a hard time digesting this news. Stretch out on the couch and rest your brain for a moment while I think about this.”

  Michael headed to the living room, took off his shoes, and did as his mother had suggested. With a small yawn, he closed his eyes.

  An hour later, Michael woke up. He heard his mother on the telephone. He swung his legs to the floor. He roamed through the house before heading into the family room. On the floor were open photo albums. His mother must have been having one of her moments. Whenever she was stressed, she always took out the baby pictures. “I’m looking back at a simpler time,” she would say.

  A photo caught his eye. He leaned closer. It was a picture of Trey. He didn’t remember this one. He removed the photo from the jacket and looked at it for several seconds. Wait a minute. This isn’t Trey, he thought. He flipped the picture over. His mother always wrote the something about the picture on the back.

  Keith, 1 year old.

  Michael looked at the picture again. Keith looked so much like Trey. His heart denied it. Michael jumped up, and with shaking hands, he placed the photo of Keith next to one on the mantel that he was sure was of Trey. The resemblance was uncanny. It was eerie.

  It can’t be. No, there has to be another explanation.

  “Michael, what are you doing?” his mother asked from across the room. Her careful enunciation of each word told him that his mother knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Just looking at a picture of Keith, my brother. And Trey, my son. Or should I say, his son?” He faced his mother, but she couldn’t look him in the eye. “How long have you known?”

  She stepped farther into the room. Tears rolled down her face. “I didn’t. I suspected when you talked to me earlier, and I wondered. I came to look at the pictures, but then I had a phone call and . . . I meant to put those away.” She fiddled with her housecoat.

  Disillusionment and hurt were etched on every contour of his heart. Michael broke. “I asked him to help me out by fathering a child with Gina. Little did I know that he’d already been there, done that. Imagine . . .” He tossed the picture of Keith aside and covered his eyes with his hands, giving his head a vehement shake.

  The photograph was worth a thousand words.

  “Aww!” he screamed. Blinding fury engulfed him, and he ran back to the living room, grabbed his shoes, and shoved his feet into them. As he headed to the front door, his mother tried to block his path, but he lifted her out of the way. She cried and pleaded with him to stay, but he was going to confront Keith.

  His voice escalated as he vowed, “I’m going to kill him! He’s going to pay for this. If it’s the last thing I do. He will pay!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Keith heard a crash. He couldn’t ascertain the source of the commotion before he felt himself being tossed to the floor in the hallway outside Trey’s hospital room. He felt pounding fists on his head before he used his strength to push his assailant to the floor.

  He’d come to the hospital to sit with Trey. Gina wasn’t there.

  Pinning the attacker’s body beneath his, Keith raised his fist to return the favor when he saw who it was. “Michael?”

  “You know what this is about,” Michael shot back before his huge fist landed on Keith’s lower jaw.

  Keith felt blood ooze from his mouth as his jaw hit teeth. He moved out of the path of Michael’s flailing fists. He lifted his hands to ward off the blows and to try to defuse the situation. Michael was out for blood. He was not up for a conversation.

  “Let me explain,” Keith said, then retreated as Michael charged toward him.

  A punch landed on Keith’s left cheekbone, and his head swerved so hard from the impact that he had whiplash. Fury set in. Keith swung his powerful arms and made contact with Michael’s right eye. Since Michael was incapacitated for a moment, K
eith was able to grab him and haul him into the nearest elevator. Within the compact area of the elevator, much pushing and shoving occurred, but Keith’s intent was for them to take this war outside. He pushed the button for the lobby.

  “Quit it!” Keith growled. “Are you trying to get us arrested?”

  Too angry for words, Michael didn’t even give him a response. When the elevator reached the lobby, Michael dashed out and headed to the hospital entrance. As soon as the door swung open, Michael ran toward his car, activating the remote UNLOCK button as he went, and jumped into the driver’s seat. Keith was right behind him. He opened the rear door before Michael could lock it and jumped in, even though Michael had already put the car in gear.

  Michael’s car squealed as he sped away, skillfully handling the car. Once he’d stopped at a red light, Michael found his voice. “I hope the whore was worth it.”

  Keith’s wrath bubbled up, and he bounded out of the car. Michael had made the mistake of leaving his window open, and Keith used that opportunity to deliver a mind-blowing punch to his face.

  Michael’s head swung back so hard that he had whiplash, but he wasn’t going to back down. “You want some of this!” Michael put the gear in park and jumped out of the vehicle.

  Heedless of the green light, he shoved Keith with tremendous force. Keith harrumphed and pushed back. Michael and Keith became enfolded in a tight grip as neither man would give in to the other. They were fit enough to continue their onslaught for hours without tiring. They twisted with rage, arm in arm, backing up until they had crossed the intersection and smashed through a glass shop window.

  The owner of the shop was flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED. Keith saw that the poor man was frightened out of his wits to see two large men rolling on the floor, amid the broken glass. They had not been slowed down by the glass and seemed immune to the shards tearing at their suits.