Keisha turned to the right and saw Maria's mouth moving, her dark eyes concerned. The steady beat of Caleb stomping around in his playpen rung in her ears. She even looked down and saw her cell on the coffee table was lighting up. It was Jake.
But she didn't move. Not an inch. The world thought they were a lie. That she was some impoverished woman probably trying to milk the limelight. The future, the one so close she could brush it with her fingertips, suddenly seemed out of reach.
She closed her eyes, but they snapped open as Maria took her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake. She had Keisha's cell cradled between her ear and the crook of her neck.
"Yes," Maria said into the receiver, finally releasing Keisha. "She's right here." She held out the phone. "It's Jake."
Keisha just looked at it, not moving. Not ready.
"Mija, take the phone."
Keisha’s lips trembled and she heard the tears in her voice as she finally spoke. “I-I can’t. I don’t know what to do.”
Maria’s voice was gentle. “Well, you can start by talking to him, Keisha. You two will figure this out.”
The two of them? According to Conrad, there was no two of them. He’d just gone on national TV and said they were a lie. That they weren’t real. That everything she’d experienced for the past few months was just some figment of her imagination.
“Keisha!” Maria said firmly. “Talk to him!”
Keisha let out a sigh as she accepted the phone and brought it to her ear. "What?"
"Babe! Jesus Christ, I just heard. I'm so sorry." His deep voice wavered. She knew him well enough to know that he was furious. "I had no idea, I swear to you."
"It's no biggie," Keisha said stonily. "I'm just an impoverished welfare mother that you took pity on."
"You know that's not true," he insisted. "You're so much more to me than that. You, Caleb--you're everything to me."
Keisha swiped a tear that spilled down her cheek, trying to hold on to his voice. Trying to hold on to the love. She wanted to use it to cut through the hatred laced in his father's words, but she was tired. So exhausted. "When are you coming home?"
She heard the smile in his voice. "I like the sound of that. As soon as possible, baby. As soon as possible."
"Make it sooner." She pulled the phone from her ear and Maria took it from her, mumbling a goodbye.
Keisha pushed from the couch and went back to loading the boxes, her limbs and movements mechanical.
Maria's voice was soft. "We can take a break-"
"No," Keisha snapped. She looked at her friend and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Let's just finish this." She cast a look around the economy apartment. "I just want to get out of here."
Chapter Eight
Jake
Jake zipped up his suitcase and tossed it onto the trolley, hoping the snap of noise would provide some relief from the scream-a-thon between he and Keisha.
No such luck.
"I mean, the fight, the arrest, and now your dad calling us nothing but a fraud--you have no idea what it was like to walk through that lobby. To have everyone looking at me for all the wrong reasons," Keisha railed on.
"Babe," Jake took a breath. It was their last day in Winterhorn and they'd spent the morning yelling at each other. Besides being counterproductive, considering he'd been packing the same box for an hour, he hated being at odds with her.
He tried to not take her icy words personally, trying to remember her quarrel was with his father but he was as close as she'd get. Conrad had wisely been unavailable for the past few days, probably aware of the shit storm that he'd caused and the ensuing fallout. Not that he cared. His father wanted them to end things and figured if he went on TV and said things were over, it would be just the wakeup call Jake needed.
But even though they were arguing, taking their frustrations out on one another, looking at his beautiful woman, anger making her dark eyes smolder and her brown cheeks flush, he loved her, wanted her more than ever.
"Are you even listening to me?" she said shrilly, putting a hand on her hip. "Are you even taking this seriously?"
“Of course I am, baby,” he said softly. “I just think we need to take a big breath and relax. Yelling isn’t going to change anything.”
Her nostrils flared. "Do you even get the gravity of what he's done?"
"Keisha-"
"I mean he's trying to make damn sure we're not together!" She made gestures, trying to explain it to him. Her thin arms waved back and forth effusively as she blasted on. "Everything is ruined! How can we be together now without contradicting his statement? Without looking like your campaign has gone awry?"
"Keisha-"
"I mean what are we gonna do?" Her dark eyes filled with tears. "What the hell are we gonna do?!"
He held her shoulders, trying to ground her. Her concerns were his. After he’d come down from his own personal fury, he'd talked with Raven and she'd sadly wondered if a little time off between them was for the best so they could regroup. For a blink of an eye, he'd wondered the same, but the thought of being without Keisha was so crippling, so unfathomable.
He caressed her cheek as he stared at her. Not having the weekends to look forward to, not waking up beside her--it wasn't an option.
He kept his voice neutral, trying to not minimize her hurt, but at the same time, keep it in perspective. "Raven and I decided that for now, I have no comment on my father's statements."
She stuck out her lip. "And when people see me around town, wearing my furs and riding in the Escalade I bought from poaching your campaign?"
Jake gave her a chuckle. "You don't have any furs, and you hate riding in the Escalade."
"And what about the house you bought?"
He felt the sting of her words. He knew that she was a proud woman and worked for everything she got. "I thought we'd agreed on a rent arrangement. Your idea, remember?"
"But I'm just trying to get you to see what it looks like from the outside!" she pressed. "And I want you to know I don't need the chauffeur or the house." She looked down at the print dress she wore, a gift from Jake when he saw her eyeing it on a boutique website.
“I know you love me, Keisha.”
“But do you understand that I don’t need it?” She gripped the material of her dress and with a grunt, pulled it over her head and discarded it. "I don't need the money, the things. I need you."
He didn't say anymore. He'd apologized, he'd racked his mind for a way to express to Keisha that everything was alright. But words failed as he looked at her, standing in her blood red bra and panties, her dark skin shimmering. He couldn't stop his father from over reaching, like he always did. But he could control this. He could make love to his woman.
His hands wrapped around her as he drew her in, her scent, her lips enveloping him as he kissed her. Every motion sent new sensations coursing through him. Every soft probe of his tongue, skirting into her mouth, dancing against hers made him burn for this moment. He burned for the bliss in their carnal embrace. He burned for Keisha.
He pulled away only for a moment, needing her to answer a question. Needing her to give her release. Give her body. Give her all. "Can I make love to you?"
She gave him the smirk that slayed him every time. "You don't even have to ask."
Making it to the bed after that statement wasn't even an option. Buttons flew from his overpriced shirt and he damn near ripped his pants in half. Once there were no barriers between them, Keisha turned to the suite, to the privacy of the bedroom, put he pulled her back in, his hands shooting downward 'til he cupped her ass. She let out a gasp of surprise as he lifted her. The surprise gave way to a moan as she got his drift as he held her in the air and her legs wrapped around his hips.
He shuttled them to a wall and he took care to push her back soft enough to not give her undue pain, but with enough force so she knew there'd be no wining and dining. He was gonna claim her with his cock. Plunge inside her until the rest of the world faded away.<
br />
He gave her a devilish grin. "I want you right now--and I don't care if the whole world sees."
She locked her arms around his neck and his eyes trailed down her smooth abdomen, zeroing in on her core, desire glittering. The lips of her were spread and ready for him. He steered his cock inside her, relishing the thirsty smack she made as he pushed into the gates. Her muscles squeezed him and when he took his gaze to her face, he saw that she needed this as badly as he did.
"Fuck me," she whispered, her face scrunched with ecstasy.
She didn't have to tell him twice.
He moved in and out of her, building up a rhythm that drowned out everything but the two of them. He just moved his hips, burrowing into her, each thrust taking him closer to the nirvana that no one could take away from them. He felt the pleasure radiating through him, pulsing with the steady coos she made as he dove in and out of her. His woman. His forever.
The pressure before the climax built. He told her and used a hand to reach between them. He found her clit and rubbed it. He wanted to feel her come on his cock before he lost it.
She threw her head back onto the wall, tossing it back and forth and he let out a roar of passion as he felt her core tighten around his cock, spasming as she climaxed.
He let go, leaping from the edge of the cliff and falling into his own release, holding her steady. Holding to the moment.
They sunk onto the carpeted floor, Keisha's head on his shoulder.
"We're gonna be okay." After he said it, he found that it sounded more like a question. A prayer.
Keisha lifted her head and took a hand and brought him down ‘til they touched, forehead to forehead. She took a deep breath then exhaled. "We're gonna be okay."
Chapter Nine
Keisha
Keisha stepped inside of Leroy's Grocery, pushing Caleb in his stroller. He was chatting away, completely content to baby babble about the world's ills. Keisha pressed silence on her cell for the third time since she'd left her mother's apartment.
She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. So hopeful. Her mother had whined about everything that concerned Caleb, trailing all the way back to when he was in utero. How it was a mistake to even have him. How her house wasn't big enough for a baby. How a crying baby wasn't good for her blood pressure. How just because she was babysitting didn't mean she'd miss her stories.
But she'd called up Keisha, telling her that she had empty nest syndrome since they were finally moved out and spent their first night in the new house.
The house was a dream with its sparkling white walls that she couldn't wait to paint their story on. Vaulted ceiling, a fireplace, marble countertops, wide open space. It was the kind of place that she always dreamed about as she scrubbed toilets and cleaned up behind people. The kind of place that she wanted to raise her son in, grow old in. And when she'd talked to her mother the night before, she'd put her guard down. Carla had surprised her, apologizing for the distance between them for the past few years. She'd believed her when she said she wanted a new start.
Keisha pushed toward the produce, shaking her head with quiet disgust. She could still see her mother strewn out on the couch, beer cans littering the floor. Apparently their heart to heart was thanks to Budweiser. She was in no shape for a new start. No shape for her grandson to see her in.
A string of gurgles from Caleb intermixing with a voice talking about the day’s sales shook Keisha from her anger and she forced her attention to the list in front of her. It would just be she and Caleb, so she just wanted to hit the mainstays-veggies, chicken, denali moose tracks.
She inspected a bag of romaine lettuce and after being satisfied, stuffed it into her canvas shopping bag. When she pushed past a display of cheese and wine, heat flamed at her cheeks.
Before Jake headed back to DC, they'd tried a romantic dinner with all the fixings--wine, steak, potatoes. But all the stress of the move and Conrad's ballsy hard balling on national television had dominated the evening's events and led to an argument. That had in turn led to some particularly steamy angry sex. The things they'd done on the bed, the dining room table, the floor...just the memory was enough to make her mouth water.
She took a bundle of tomatoes and lowered them onto a scale. As amazing as their hookup had been, when her heart stopped pounding and she was lying in his arms, surrounded by cardboard boxes, living the life she'd always wanted to with her baby and the man she loved, reality crept back in. Until Jake figured out how to undo the damage his father had done, they had to keep their love under wraps. No housewarming parties. No walking together to the park a few blocks down. No family shopping trips.
She swiped the tomatoes, giving a genial looking older man a smile as he saddled up beside her, holding a bag of produce. He kind of hesitated, so she gave him a small nod. “How are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“Doing well,” Keisha answered, with a polite smile.
"Nice weather we've been having, huh?" the man said brightly.
Keisha nodded. "It's been perfect. Not too hot, not too cold." She turned to go, but the man kept talking.
"You know where else is nice this time of year?" he asked, moving closer. "Hawaii."
Keisha let out a snort. She had no doubt. Warm sun, warm beach, pina coladas with bright umbrellas. "Maybe so, but I sure can't afford it."
The man reached in his jacket, pulling out an envelope. He handed it to her. When she gave him a weird look, he responded with an oversized, uncomfortable grin.
Keisha rolled her eyes subconsciously. He was probably some religious nut job or door to door marketer. She wasn’t in the mood to hear about how Jesus could save her soul from eternal damnation or listening to some scam to get her money or information.
But when she broke the seal, it wasn't a pamphlet. It was a check, made out to her.
“W-what is this?”
“It’s a check,” the man said smoothly. “A check made out to you, Miss Wallace.”
“Yes I know that, but-” Her voice caught in her throat. How the hell did he know her name? And why was he giving her a check? Her mouth fell open. The number couldn't be right. It had to be a scam, because it was a check for one million dollars.
She held it up, her voice hoarse. "What the hell is this?"
"A check."
"I know that," Keisha said unevenly. "How do you know my name? Why are you giving me a check for a million dollars?"
He folded his arms. "You seem like a nice young lady, with a good head on your shoulders." He gestured at Caleb. "And a son. This money will make sure he has a good life. Good schools. Good neighborhoods-"
Keisha held up a hand, cutting him off. "Why are you giving me a check? You don't know me. I don't know you."
The kind spark in the man's gray eyes hardened. His tone went from friendly to cold as ice. "You're gonna turn down a check? A no strings attached check?"
She squared her jaw. He must be joking. Nothing in this life came with no strings. She gripped Caleb's stroller tight and started to maneuver around the man. He didn't take the hint, only stepping to the left and blocking her path.
Keisha shot a glance around her. The produce area was scantily populated. There were two elderly women huddled around the herbs, and a stock girl setting up an apple display. She gave the man a thorough glance. While she didn't think he'd try anything too crazy, there was something about him that made her uneasy. But if growing up in The Heights had taught her anything, she knew better than to show an ounce of fear. Even though her heart thundered in her chest, her words were a throaty growl. "Get the hell out of my way."
"Don't be stupid," the man hissed. "Think about your kid."
Keisha's eyes went wide and the fear transformed to fury. Was he threatening her? Was he trying to threaten her baby? "Don't you DARE talk about my son!"
She spied the older women suddenly turning to where they stood. Even then teen bopped her pink highlighted head in their direction.
The man didn't fli
nch, but he lowered his voice. "I don't mean any offense, lady. But when Conrad Cunningham wants someone to go away and is throwing a check their way to bat, you'd be a fool not to accept.”
Keisha gasped, clutching the bars of the stroller for strength. The gall...first the interview, now this? Was she that toxic, that abominable, that he was willing to do anything to get rid of her?
When Caleb let out a gurgle, for a moment, she tried to imagine taking the money. He was right--it could buy a good house and ensure money would be no obstacle as far as his education was concerned, but at what cost? Was she willing to say goodbye to the man she loved? Was she ready to go to bed alone, imagining Jake's father's smug expression as he told his son that he was right? That Keisha was only in this for the money?
She slowly raised a hand from the handlebar, her fingers shaking as she reached out, accepting the check.
The man gave her a sickening smile. "Good girl." He pressed the check into her open palm. "And just like that, you're a millionaire."
Millionaire. Rich. Just like the Cunninghams.
She brought her other hand up, cradling the check as she stared at it until the words blurred into one another.
"No," she whispered. She wouldn't be bought off, or made to disappear. Not by him. Not by anyone.
She steeled her gaze as the man wavered, visibly confused. "I wouldn't expect someone like you, who does a man like Conrad Cunningham's dirty work, stalking women and making veiled threats, to understand." She folded the check in half then ripped it, tossing the scraps at the flabbergasted man. Conrad's bribe rained down all around him. "You can tell him that Keisha Wallace said he can go to hell."
She took his gaping surprise as an out and wheeled around him, continuing down the aisle. She kept it calm, cool, and collected until she turned the corner, then booked it toward the back hall where the bathrooms were. She ignored the bystander’s weird looks, only turning into the bathroom before she let herself relax. Caleb was squealing, on cloud nine from their high speed route, unaware of how heavy what had gone down really was.
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