NO SECRETS NO LIES (SIN CITY HEAT SERIES Book 3) (20 page)

    
Even when he and Marcus were young and homeless, living on the streets of
Philly without two nickels to rub together, an aura surrounded them that dared
anybody to fuck with them. Now as men, Marcus was a successful and accomplished
physician with a natural talent and Darrell was a wealthy businessman with
razor sharp instincts which were respected in the business world.

    
They still both possessed that dangerous edge which neither hesitated to let
loose if a situation called for it. Marcus kept it under control better than
Darrell, but Darrell gave himself credit for having calmed down a
lot
since
his younger days. Back then, he acted first and thought about the consequences
later. That side normally didn’t come out unless somebody deliberately fucked
with him or tried to play him for a fool – and Darrell Monroe was nobody's
fool.

    
Today, he was having lunch with his friend and business partner, Carl
Livingston. They’d just finished up a meeting with their accountant and decided
to stop and have lunch before heading back to the office. Darrell's gray eyes
lit up and sparkled as he listened to Carl relate the details of the disastrous
date he'd gone on last night. The two men met four years ago when Darrell was
part owner of
Club Ecstasy
. Shortly after marrying Jerra, Darrell sold
his stake in
Club Ecstasy
as well as its sister club in New York,
Club
Fantasy,
to his ace, Bryan Jefferson. When Darrell spoke to Bryan last
week, though, Bryan informed him he was considering accepting an offer from
foreign investors to purchase both clubs which would net Bryan a very, healthy
profit. The news hadn’t really been that big of a shock to Darrell. He'd known
Bry had lost his zeal for the club scene some time ago and was ready for a
change.

    
As Darrell sat down at their table, he thought about that conversation with
Bryan while Carl finished up a quick call. Things had seemed a little strange
that day but Darrell dismissed it at the time because he’d been in a somber
mood himself. The eighth anniversary of Roni's death was just weeks away. Even
after so many years, being in the office at the club still held traces of her
of presence, and it fucked with Darrell’s head.

    
Veronica Winston had been Bryan's cousin, but the two couldn’t have been closer
if they were brother and sister. Darrell and Roni had been involved less than a
year, but he’d fallen for her hard. Although she was much older than he was,
the age difference hadn’t mattered in the least. They were proof that age had
nothing to do with who you fell in love with. From the very beginning, the fire
between them blazed white hot, and the passion, sweltering and sultry. Darrell
had been with too many women to count, but had craved none of them the way he
craved Roni. Her intelligence, sassy attitude, and beauty had shone through
brilliantly, both inside and out.

    
Darrell smiled to himself as he reached for the menu the flirty waitress handed
him. Her lips pushed out in a slight pout when he blatantly ignored her, still
caught up in his musings. Yeah, Roni had definitely been nobody’s pushover. Above
all, she’d been truthful and honest and kept it one hundred with him at all
times, even when his youthful, hotheaded temper got the best of him. After the
life he’d been born into, honesty and loyalty in his relationship was a must.
The world was too freakin’ cold and unforgiving to have to worry and have
doubts about the person he was supposed to trust above all others. When Roni
died, Darrell didn’t think he’d ever find those qualities in a woman again.
That is, until he met his baby. The smile on his face widened as he thought
about his wife.

    
“What the hell are you over there grinning about?” Carl asked as he ended his
call and placed his phone on the table.

    
Darrell glanced up from the menu “Nothin’ man.”

    
“Yeah right. All I need is one guess. She’s about 5’5”, creamy cocoa
complexion, gorgeous dark, glossy hair and about 135 lbs. that fall into place
on her frame like the perfect pieces of a jigsaw puzzle."

    
“Hey, hey, hey…” Darrell sent him a fake glower of warning. “You my boy and
everythang, but when it comes to Jerra St. James-Monroe, I will whip a
muthafucka's ass quicker than he can blink an eye. You can act brand new if you
want to, but it's gonna get ya ass stomped.”

    
Carl burst out laughing and leaned back in his chair when he got the desired
reaction he’d been gunning for. “I hear ya, bruh. If I had a good woman like
Jerra, I would kill anybody stupid enough to even look at her crazy. ” The
smile slowly slipped from Carl's lips. “Thought I had that once too, but guess
things aren't always the way they seem, right?”

    
The amusement left Darrell's face as well. He knew Carl was thinking about his
ex-wife, Levette, who had just gotten married to a record producer a couple of
weeks ago. The ink was barely dry on the divorce decree when Carl found out
she'd been having an affair for months.

    
"Carl, let that shit go. She ain't even worth the tissue you wipe your ass
with, man."

    
"Easier said than done. It just seems as if this came from out of nowhere.
One minute, I'm thinking we're happy, ready to start a family then she drops a
fuckin' bomb on me sayin' she wants a divorce." Carl shook his head.
"I tell you, no matter how many women I fuck around with to try and forget
her, it doesn’t help."

        
Darrell wanted to be sympathetic and supportive to his friend, but to be
honest, he didn’t get it. Yeah, he understood that Carl still had feelings for
Yvette, but damn. The woman lied to him, slept with another man, and made him
look like a fool while he'd been out there bustin' his butt to give her high
maintenance ass everything she whined for. Bitch actually had nerve enough to
say it wasn’t good enough but made sure she packed every piece of jewelry, fur,
and clothing that filled up the two huge walk-in closets in their home before
she left.

    
And
then
she took the top of the line, custom Benz he’d given her a week
before she asked for the divorce
too
?? Shiiitt...

    
Darrell scoffed and tossed his menu on the table. Couldn’t have been him. He'd
be damned if another man styled and profiled in something he spent his hard
earned money to buy. Her gold diggin' ass woulda left the relationship just the
way Carl found her – broke and without a got damn thing. Darrell didn’t know
what he'd been thinkin', tryin' to wife a jump-off who’d been passed around
more times than bums on the corner passed around a forty.

    
Carl studied Darrell's face, accurately guessing his thoughts. "Look, I
already know what you're thinking, but you got a good woman waiting at home for
you every night. Jerra is one of the best. Not every man is that lucky,
D."

    
Darrell sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, I know. It's
hard to even imagine goin' through somethin' like that. Man, I tell you, if
Jerra ever did some shit like that to me, I would go fuckin' ballistic. They
might as well get the metal bracelets ready because they'd find the bastard she
messed around with ten feet under."

  
  Carl laughed and nodded his head in agreement even before Darrell
finished his last sentence. "Man, you ain't gotta preach to the choir. I
already know how your crazy ass roll. Like I said, any man stupid enough to
fuck with what's yours..."Carl stopped talking abruptly as he focused on
something over Darrell's shoulder.

    
Darrell frowned when Carl blinked as if trying to make sense of what he was
looking at. "What's wrong?"

    
Still squinting, Carl angled his head as if to get a better look. "Is that
Jerra?"

    
"Huh?" Darrell twisted around in his seat and rested his arm along
the back of the chair as he followed Carl's gaze. "Where? I just talked to
her a couple of hours ago and she said she was spending the day with Keisha..."

    
Darrell scanned the restaurant and screeched to a halt at a table towards the
back which was secluded from the rest of the patrons. Hell yeah that was Jerra
- and she wasn't alone.

    
"What the fuck..."

Chapter
27

    
The room started to spin around in dizzy circles as everyone and everything
around him faded to black. The only thing Darrell focused on was his wife
sitting next to another man in an intimate setting, and the atmosphere
surrounding their body language was suspect as hell. His heartbeat increased
double time when he noticed the man covering Jerra's hand with his own, but
when the bastard slipped his arm around her and tenderly caressed her bare
shoulder, the gesture was like a matador waving a red cape in front of a raging
bull. Without taking his eyes off of them, Darrell stood up so fast his chair
toppled over and slammed to the floor.

    
Carl rose at the same time and grabbed his arm. "Darrell, wait! Calm
down!"

    
Darrell jerked away from Carl's grip. "Oh, I'm 'bought to be calmer than a
mu'fucka in just a minute."

    
"Maybe it's not what it looks like..."

    
Darrell glared at Carl with lightning shooting from his stormy eyes. "Not
what it looks like, Carl? See, that's the difference between you and me. Even
when all the signs were there, when your gut tried to tell you that something
didn’t feel right you still made excuses for Yvette." Darrell pointed
towards the table where Jerra sat with Rob. "I don’t know what’s goin’ on
but somethin’ ain’t
feelin’
right. And that muthafucka that’s got his
hands on my wife? He’s a dead man!"

    
Carl called Darrell's name again, but Darrell only paused when he heard a
familiar high pitched squeal. "Daddee! Daddee!"

    
At the sound of DJ's voice, Darrell swung around with the furious scowl still
slashed across his face, and what he saw caused his blood to boil even more.
Jerra had brought his
son
out on a rendezvous with her lover?? Oh
hell
nah! They may as well dig a grave for her too alongside that muthafucka she was
hugged up with!

    
He took the few long, angry steps needed to reach his son and plucked him away
from the young girl without a word. When DJ tried to throw his arms around
Darrell's neck, Darrell held him back for a minute and ran his eyes over him to
make sure he was okay then gave him a tight hug before switching his attention
back to the girl. Who the fuck was this??

    
Darrell was livid, and his anger was so evident, she took a step back to get
away from its heat. He was getting ready to ask her what in the hell she was doing
with his son when the words literally stuck in his throat. A younger version of
his wife was staring back at him with wide, frightened eyes.

   
 
What the…??
"Who are you!"

    
The demand came out brusque and harsh, and when Darrell saw her twist her
trembling hands together in front of him, he tried to put bring his temper down
a notch. She looked harmless enough, but damn! Shit was coming at him from all
directions. First, he saw his wife cozied up in a corner with some other man
and then he turns around and comes face to face with a girl holding his son who
could pass for Jerra's younger twin!

      
When he continued to glare at her, she finally stuttered her name.
"I...I'm Giselle. Giselle Valentine."

    
Darrell studied every inch of her face. With lightning quick precision, his
eyes zoomed in on the tiny mole above the left corner of her upper lip and
instinctively knew she was the same little girl in the picture who he'd thought
was Jerra. Darrell's face reflected his shock as his mind desperately tried to
make sense of this entire thing. As much as he racked his brain to come up with
a plausible explanation, he kept returning to the same conclusion.

    
But...that couldn’t be it.

    
"How do you know my wife? Jerra Monroe."

    
Giselle nervously glanced towards the back of the restaurant but her father was
still in deep conversation with Jerra. "She's my mother."

    
Hearing her confirm his suspicion shook Darrell to the core. He ignored the low
curse that came from Carl, never looking away from Giselle.

    
"How old are you?" Darrell's voice was quiet, but intense.

    
"Sixteen."

    
Darrell quickly did the math. Sixteen. That meant Jerra had been pregnant when
she left Mississippi...after Earl raped her. He briefly closed his eyes.
Jerra's stepfather had gotten her pregnant.

    
A thousand questions assaulted his mind all at the same time – questions he had
no answers to. He slowly turned to look in Jerra's direction.

    
But he knew who did.

    
Darrell glanced at Giselle. "Come on."

    
She made a wide berth around him and quickly walked to the table. Darrell and
Carl exchanged a look before Darrell followed behind her, keeping his eyes
latched on Jerra. With each step he took, he tried to rein in his temper. The
only thing that stopped him from kickin’ ass first and takin’ names later was
the fact that DJ was there. But he wouldn’t be forgettin’ this dude’s face.
Best believe that.