Betrayal (36 page)

Tamia's heart pounded with fear as Cynthia rose from the armchair and came toward her with the silenced pistol. “Enough talking, bitch. I need to put a bullet into you so that your time of death coincides with my mother's.”

Tamia took a small step backward. “Don't do this, Cynthia. It's not worth ruining your life over.”

Cynthia snorted harshly. “Are you fucking kidding me?
What life?
I lost my fiancé to a filthy slut who's having his baby. At the office he looks right through me like I'm a stranger, then I learned today that I won't be making partner this year. As if that weren't bad enough, my father has been publicly disgraced and shunned from the church
he
built, my brothers are ashamed of me for pretending to be pregnant, and now my mother is dead. So tell me, Tamia,” she jeered, coming closer, “what do I possibly have to lose by ending your miserable life?”

Hearing voices out in the hall, Cynthia looked over Tamia's shoulder.

Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, Tamia swung the bag and knocked the gun out of Cynthia's hand.

She gasped in surprise, watching as the pistol clattered across the floor.

She and Tamia dove for it at the same time, landing near Coretta's lifeless body. When Tamia found herself staring into the dead woman's glassy eyes, there was no time for her to scream—she had her hands full with a psychotic killer.

Cynthia was skinny, but she was fueled by a maniacal hatred and fury that made her stronger than Tamia had expected. She fought like a wildcat, clawing and swinging her fists as she screamed invectives at Tamia. When Tamia wrestled her way to the top, Cynthia viciously drove her knee into her stomach.

Tamia gasped sharply, staggered by the searing pain that radiated through her.

“
Bitch!
” Cynthia yelled. “I'll see you in hell before I let you have that fucking baby!”

As she went for Tamia's stomach again, a blinding rage overtook her—the rage of a mother lioness protecting her young—and she roared into Cynthia's face, “
I'MA SEND YOU THERE MYSELF, YOU CRAZY ASS BITCH!
”

She furiously punched Cynthia in the face, then seized two fistfuls of her hair and banged her head against the wood floor as Cynthia howled in pain.

Suddenly the front door burst open, the sound of loud male voices and heavy footsteps erupting into the apartment.

“
Tamia!
” Brandon shouted, his voice hoarse with panicked alarm as he pulled her off Cynthia.

As Cynthia rolled to her stomach and tried to crawl after the fallen gun, she was apprehended by one of the cops who'd arrived with Brandon.

“You're under arrest!” the officer barked, planting his knee firmly in her back.

Brandon swept Tamia into his arms, carried her over to the sofa, and settled her across his lap as he ran trembling hands over her hair and face. “Oh, baby,” he groaned as if he were in agony. “Jesus God. What the hell did she do to you? Are you okay?”

Tamia nodded weakly, gritting her teeth against spasms of pain spearing through her stomach.

After checking Coretta for a pulse, the second cop frowned and radioed for an ambulance.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, CYNTHIA?” Brandon yelled as she was handcuffed and led out of the condo sobbing hysterically.

Returning his attention to Tamia, Brandon kissed her forehead and rubbed his cheek back and forth against her hair. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” he said raggedly. “I didn't know she'd come after you.
I didn't know
.”

“Neither did I.” Tamia shuddered against him. “How did you get home so quickly?”

“I caught an earlier flight. I wanted to surprise you. When I got here, the cops had just arrived. The front desk told me the neighbors heard shouting coming from the apartment, so they called the police.” Brandon frantically looked her over, checking for injuries. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“I think so.” Tamia closed her eyes, her hand pressed to her stomach. “Just get me to the hospital so we can make sure our baby's all right. . . .”

“Well, well, well,” Fiona drawled. “Look what we have here, ladies. A new arrival.”

Cynthia sat down and glanced nervously toward the end of the lunch table where Fiona sat holding court with a group of her fellow inmates.

Fiona smirked, slowly looking Cynthia up and down. No more designer threads for this bougie heffa. Orange jumpsuits all the way.

“Hello, Miss Thang,” Fiona taunted. “Bet you never thought you'd end up in a place like this with the unwashed masses.”

The other women cackled and smacked their lips as Cynthia ducked her head over her meal tray.

“How's your ex-preacher daddy doing?” Fiona jeered. “I heard the feds charged him with running a Ponzi scheme and swindling millions out of his dumbass parishioners. Heard they got enough evidence to lock his ass up for life, too.” Fiona
tsk-tsked
. “Looks like fucking prostitutes was the
least
of your daddy's sins. But, hey, considering how ugly your mama was, I can't even blame the poor man for getting pussy elsewhere.”

Cynthia's face reddened as the other inmates shrieked with laughter.

Fiona knew badmouthing a dead woman was a low blow, but she figured it couldn't be worse than what her own daughter had done to her. Hell, the psycho bitch had killed her own mother. It didn't get any lower than that.

“I saw my sister yesterday,” Fiona announced. “She and Brandon came to visit me. They look so happy together. So right for each other. Their wedding plans are coming along great and they found the perfect house, so they're moving next month. Of course they couldn't stay at Brandon's condo after you turned it into a crime scene, so they've been staying with his parents. And wouldn't you know it? Mr. and Mrs. Chambers are actually starting to warm up to Tamia. Yup, Brandon's mother has been planning their wedding, so you
know
it's gonna be off da chain. Ain't that something? You tried your best to prove to Brandon's parents that
you
were right for their son, but in the end, your psychotic breakdown made them realize
Tamia
was the better woman for Brandon. Oh, by the way, their baby is doing just fine, fuck you very much.”

Cynthia stared down at her untouched food, rapidly blinking back tears.

“We're all looking forward to watching Brandon and Tamia's wedding on TV,” Fiona gleefully continued. “I know the local stations are gonna cover the ceremony like it's the royal wedding. You're more than welcome to join our viewing party, Cynthia. That is, if you think you can handle seeing my sister get everything you wanted.”

Tears rolled down Cynthia's face.

But Fiona wasn't done. “I just gotta ask. How do you sleep at night knowing that you murdered your own mama and almost killed an innocent unborn baby?”

Cynthia's nostrils flared. “The same way
you
slept after murdering your grandmother,” she retorted under her breath.

“
No, she didn't!
” the other women hissed and exclaimed, outraged on Fiona's behalf.

Fiona chuckled, calmly holding up a hand. “It's all good, ladies. Let her talk shit. Miss Thang got some spunk in her, so she just might do a'ight up in here.”

Someone sucked her teeth. “You need to fuck that bitch up, Fee.”

This drew hearty echoes of agreement that had Cynthia looking petrified.

Fiona smiled consolingly at her. “Don't worry, ma, I ain't gonna whip your ass,” she promised, gently rubbing her swollen stomach. “You fight dirty, and while that normally wouldn't be a problem for me, I can't risk nothing happening to my precious daughter.”

A look of relief flashed across Cynthia's face.

“But I can't speak for some of these other salty bitches around here,” Fiona smoothly continued. “Some of them got nothing to live for, so they wouldn't think twice about shanking your crazy ass. Some of them don't care for pampered princesses who think they're better than everyone else, so they'd love nothing more than to fuck you up and knock you off your high horse. And some of them”—Fiona pointed to a butch-looking inmate with thick cornrows—“are just out to make you their bitch.”

The color drained from Cynthia's face as the woman leered suggestively at her.

Fiona sighed dramatically. “Any of those things could happen to you. Or maybe none at all.” She smiled narrowly. “Either way, this ain't your daddy's country club. Around here
I
have all the connections, and quiet as it's kept,
I
pull the strings.”

Cynthia gulped visibly.

Glancing toward the nearest corrections officer, Fiona added menacingly to Cynthia, “So don't sleep, bitch. 'Cause after I drop this load, your skinny black ass is mine.” She winked. “Assuming you're still around.”

 

“Everything was so beautiful, Mama Esther,” Tamia reminisced, swaying back and forth on the porch swing. “The flowers, the decorations, the chateau by the lake. It was all so perfect. I wore a strapless mermaid gown that showed off my little baby bump, and everyone said I looked breathtaking. Beyoncé serenaded us with the most romantic love song I've ever heard. But even before that moment, Brandon and I had already been fighting back tears. We were both so emotional, thinking about everything we'd gone through to get to that day. Oh, Mama, you should have
seen
the way he looked at me as I came down the aisle. No man has
ever
looked at me with so much love in his eyes. Words can't even describe it.” Tamia sighed blissfully. “It was such an amazing wedding, Mama. Beyond my wildest dreams.”

 

Tamia awakened slowly and glanced around the private hospital suite. There were beautiful floral arrangements, stuffed animals, balloons, and chocolates everywhere.

Brandon stood at the window, his newborn son cradled lovingly in his arms.

When Tamia saw them, tears swam into her eyes, blurring their images like a mirage shimmering in the distance.

But these two weren't mirages.

They were very real.

And they belonged to her. Both father and son.

Even if she hadn't already received the paternity test results, Tamia would have known that her son was one hundred percent Brandon's. The baby had beautiful dark skin and the makings of thick black eyebrows, and when he opened his little mouth to yawn, dimples flashed in his chubby cheeks.

Gwen had taken one look at her newborn grandson and burst into tears. “He looks
just
like Brandon did when he was born!”

During yesterday's intense labor and delivery, Brandon had stayed by Tamia's side. He'd stroked her hair, kissed her sweaty brow, whispered words of encouragement, and fervently told her how much he loved and appreciated her. And once she'd pushed out the baby, Brandon had proudly cut the umbilical cord with tears of joy streaming down his face.

Tamia smiled at the memory, watching as her husband gently sifted his fingers through their son's head full of curly black hair. Brandon Everett Junior was a healthy, strapping boy who'd entered the world at eight pounds and three ounces.

Turning from the window, Brandon met Tamia's gaze and smiled softly. “Hey, beautiful.”

She smiled. “Hey.”

Brandon started toward the bed. “The nurse brought him in for his feeding, but you were sleeping so peacefully I didn't wanna wake you right away. So we've just been chillin' together.” As the baby began to fuss softly, Brandon chuckled. “I think chillin' time is over.”

Tamia grinned, holding out her arms. “Bring him to mama.”

Brandon tenderly kissed the swaddled infant's forehead before handing him to Tamia.

As she gazed down into her son's adorable face, her heart swelled with such love and gratitude she could barely contain it. “Hey, little man,” she cooed. “Aren't you mama's precious baby boy? Yes, you are. Oh,
yes
, you—”

“Later for all the sweet talk, woman,” Brandon teased. “Whip out that big tittie and feed my son.”

Tamia laughed.

Brandon gently brushed her hair off her face, then climbed into the bed and spooned her as the baby latched on to her nipple and vigorously began sucking.

“Dayum,” Brandon marveled, watching over her shoulder. “He's definitely gonna be a breast man.”

Tamia grinned. “Like his daddy.”

He laughed, nipping her bare shoulder. As they quietly watched their nursing child, Brandon murmured, “How're you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Like the luckiest woman in the world.” Tamia smiled, tenderly stroking the infant's soft cheek. “Beej is such a sweet miracle—”

“
Beej?
” Brandon echoed.

“Yeah. It's a nickname for Brandon Everett Junior.”

Brandon chuckled. “Nah, babe, that ain't gonna work.”

“Why not?”

“You gon' have my son getting clowned at school.”

Tamia laughed. “Then I guess you'd better teach him how to defend himself, huh?”

“Oh, I'm doing that regardless.” Brandon grinned. “But we'll have to talk some more about that nickname.”

Tamia sighed. “Okay, Counselor. I'm open to negotiations.”

“Smart woman.”

She bumped her shoulder against his chest, and he laughed.

After a while they fell silent, watching as their contented son closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Brandon cuddled closer to Tamia and whispered, “Thank you.”

She looked back, met his worshipful gaze, and smiled. “Thank
you
.”

He leaned down and kissed her so tenderly that tears welled in her eyes. As he gently stroked her hip, Tamia reached for his hand.

Their fingers met . . . tangled . . . settled together.

The story of their romance.