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Renee Allen McCoy
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Category:
Inspirational
ISBN-10: 0983604614
Type: Fiction
Pages: 322
ISBN-13: 9780983604617
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
This suspense filled inspirational novel explore the lives of two ambitious people, Justine and Isaiah. The issue of infidelity is introduced from chapter one which sparks a daring fatal attraction.
Justine Dasant walks the earth in search of something that always seems to be just out of reach. After she's promised herself that she would leave her past in the past, history starts to repeat when her current boyfriend, Isaiah Johnson, shows interest in someone other than her. Justine makes it known that she'll stop at nothing to get what she wants...no matter who gets hurt along the way.
Isaiah Johnson, a young, successful CEO, has climbed himself to a life of wealth. He's worked hard to open his own business and just when success peaks, Isaiah's new found strength to step out on faith drives a wedge between him and the woman in his life. Not only does he regret meeting Justine, it's a challenge for him to escape her calculated stalking. At what cost will Isaiah say no to the world and yes to God?
Excerpt
Chapter 1 |Isaiah
I was running from the devil as fast as I could. My hair raced in the opposite direction, my feet floated like raging currents of an ocean. Desperate, petrified, jittery, trapped—something familiar snatched me back.
“Isaiah.” She loved calling my name with the sweetest voice I’ve ever known. My ears attentively waited for the next words she’d release.
Caressing my hair that stretched to my shoulders, Justine rendered me helpless. Her femininity stifled my flow and tackled me to the ground. I knew from the moment we met, something just wasn’t right, yet I went with my loins acting in place of my brain.
Her beauty slapped me every time I laid eyes upon her. Pimp slaps to my face. Karate kicks to my heart. She presented herself as every woman, every woman indeed.
Justine’s eyelashes fluttered the sweet song of seduction. Her lips pouted the hymn of fornication. And the rest of her wanted me to partake of the forbidden fruit.
Movies, dinner, nightcaps, intercourse—her marathon tested my stamina. I never had a chance. Our bodies intertwined as one recreating the effects of a Twizzler stick. She moaned my name. I groaned hers, “Justine.”
She grabbed my head in the heat of passion and marked her territory with scratches on my back. I winced a little, but didn’t want to disturb the groove. She’s my love, my one and only. The woman I wanted to marry one day, the woman I wanted to carry my seed.
The silhouette of her body stirred up my desire, enticed my heart, and teased my thirst. Her beautiful hazel eyes lured me in. Excuse me, her beautiful hazel contacts lured me in. She presented me with every quality I asked for in a mate. Perfection should have been her name.
I met this woman at a restaurant while I was having a Boys Night Out with my fellas. She was wearing an orange halter-top-tie-thing with some jeans that accentuated her booming system. Her toes, oh her toes...I’m a sucker for pedicures. Her hair was in an up do that swung in opposite directions as she walked. She has strikingly smooth, ebony skin tone that should have been featured in the latest issue of Jet magazine. She should have been a beauty of the week—captivating smile, alluring fragrance, reputable intelligence, and justifiable conceitedness.
The single candle lit above our heads represented the year we had been together and the pictures on the wall displayed our loyalty to one another…or at least it should have. I peered up at her, remembering what my best friend had told me and suddenly my desire for her left. The feeling of insecurity injected a glacier into my heart, but I still loved her. She had my soul, I prayed that I had hers yet envisioning her with another man killed my appetite. I rolled over to my side of the bed, yanking the sheets up to my chest.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, placing a petite palm on my left shoulder.
I turned around to answer, almost wanting to ask her if it were true. The thoughts were driving me crazy, but I had to know. I had to know if the woman I had been idolizing for the past year was creeping behind my back. My thoughts shattered as something grabbed my attention to the Holy Bible sitting off in the corner of the room, and I deepened in my regret. The flickering flame that shone on it from the scented candle shed light in the midst of a dark transgression.
“Baby, is there something wrong?” Justine repeated, this time pulling
my chin in her direction.
As I gazed at her those mesmerizing eyes put me right back in her trance. She had me. I was on lock down. I tried to fight my way out, but she always managed to wrestle me to the mat. One, two, three… this time, the championship was her victory—I lost. I think I’ve lost a lot more than I bargained.
Chapter 2|Justine
I love Isaiah. His long, black hair showed strength and his deep, old eyes knew more than he wanted to admit. I cheated, but still loved him. His glances told me that he knew, but his mind ignored the evidence. The numbers he found, I lied about. The phone calls at two in the morning, I lied about. The gift he found in my closet, I said was for him, but I had lied about it. I struggled within because I just couldn’t tell him the truth.
“Just.” He always shortened my name like it was so difficult to say Justine. I mean my name only has two syllables.
“Yes, Ise.” Two could play this game.
“Wanna do something tonight?” I held the phone to my ear, contemplating the possibilities. “Sure.” Well, he is my man. I had to put him before anybody else. “What do you have in mind?”
“Jermaine and Nia asked if we wanted to join them at the comedy club. They’re treating.”
I never really liked Jermaine, although Nia is cool. “Well, who’s going to be there?”
Isaiah rattled off some headliners with a hint of accomplishment in his
voice. I must admit, I was a little impressed. I thought about the big names and funny jokes, replying, “Uh yeah, and they’re paying too.”
He laughed. I smiled. The first time we shared anything in common within the past three months outside of the bedroom. Life with him had become somewhat difficult ever since he started talking noise about his future—our future and how things may change.
“So, do you want me to pick you up or do you want to drive over to my house...and spend the night?” Isaiah cleared his throat, passively suggesting that he really wanted me over at his house tonight.
I contemplated the possibilities once again, but knew that I had plans later. “No, I’ll just drive over.” I knew that sounded bad, but I had it bad.
“I have to go into work early. My boss wanted my preliminary report on his desk like yesterday.” The words almost choked me as they came out.
Isaiah sighed. “Okay. So, I guess I’ll see you tonight around six. They want to get a bite to eat first. Is that all right with you?”
I crossed my arms as I walked over to my living room window. “Sure. I’ll see you then, baby.” I rolled my eyes upward before off to the side and paused for a moment. “I love you.”
Isaiah replied, “I love you too.”
“Bye.” I didn’t hang around on the phone long enough for him to say much else. I hung up and tossed the phone onto my sofa.
I couldn’t believe that I was deceiving the one man who gave me everything. It’s not like I wanted to hurt him or anything, I would never leave him. I just wanted to see what was out there before he got up the
nerve to ask me to marry him. I would never cheat if I were married. That
just wouldn’t be right. My motives are all my own and the judgments, I left at the front door.
One hour and an exercise tape later, I grabbed my Coach bag from the bar stool in my kitchen and picked up my keys. I moseyed across town to my girlfriend’s apartment taking I-77 to John Belk’s Freeway, heading down Independence. I drove from Fort Mill to Charlotte desperately in need of something to borrow for my date with my man tonight, my other man, Tony.
Denise, my girlfriend of three years, answered the door with a cordless phone to her ear and a blue scarf wrapped around her head. “Yeah, Chuck. I have to call you tomorrow. Justine’s at the door and we’re about to get ready to go out.”
I grimaced as she motioned for me to agree. “Hurry up off the phone, Denise. We have to find something to wear.” I shrugged as she gave me thumbs up.
“Okay, Chuck. I’m sorry. Okay. Sure. Maybe we can see what’s up tomorrow.”
I closed the door behind me and plopped down on her leather sofa. The
longer I watched Denise work her charm, the more envious I became. “Girl, Chuck still trying?”
“Yes, as much as I breathe air. He can’t seem to understand that I already have a boyfriend…a boyfriend who I’ve been with for five years.”
She laughed, holding up four fingers.
“You’re crazy, girl. I loved brotha-man from the fif flo.” Both frequent
watchers of Martin reruns.
She laughed, adjusting the phone on the receiver. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“Can a sista have a day off? Gosh.” I grinned.
“Excuse me. I was just asking,” she replied, jerking her neck around.
We laughed at each other again.
“I called in sick.” I smirked bumping the ends of my hair. “Didn’t get home until four o’clock this morning.”
Denise glared at me, sucking her teeth. I stretched my eyes. “What? I’m a grown woman with my own crib and my own money. What was that song by that group?”
“Independent woman,” she answered.
“Yeah, exactly,” I replied. “Besides, I was with Isaiah.”
She shook her head and strolled into the kitchen. I met Denise three long years ago when I was in college. Now, we’re both twenty-five with twenty-eight-year-old boyfriends. She hooked up with her man at the age of twenty and I snatched up Isaiah on my twenty-fourth birthday.
“Want something to drink?” Denise asked, pulling on the refrigerator door. “I got some punch, orange juice, lemonade, sweet tea, and grape soda.”
Her man, Jamal, drank like a fish and ate like a horse. She always had to have something in her place to keep his trough filled.
“What, no water?” I smirked.
She giggled. “I know right.” Jamal measured roughly six-foot-three, shortening my girl’s stature every time he stood next to her. She’s only five-foot-four and skinny as a rail. She rocks jet black hair with honey-blonde streaks. I couldn’t pull it off, but it compliments her caramel complexion bringing out the color in her eyes that I have to buy at a store.
“Nah... I’m all right.” I pulled a water bottle from my purse. “I stopped
at the store down the street. I’m good.”
“Oh, okay.” She shrugged and poured some punch for herself.
I got up from her sofa and we both sat down at her dining room table.
Denise was doing well for herself living in an elegant two bedroom townhouse with vaulted ceilings. The open balcony door allowed the rare breeze of late summer to blow through the place. I began talking to Denise about my date tonight…my date with Tony. She cut into me like a meat cleaver.
“You know you’re wrong. That boy does any and everything for you, Justine. He cooks for you and cleans your bathroom.” She shot me a condemning stare, and then looked me up and down. “And you know how nasty your bathroom can get.” Denise curled her lips before taking a sip from her glass.
I came back with, “Whatever. You just mad because your man doesn’t do any of that for you.” I playfully pointed a finger.
“My man does all of that and more.” She felt the need to get up and flaunt around like I really cared to see any of that.
“Sit down and save the striptease for Jamal.”
“Yeah, and you save yours for Isaiah, Tony…,” she paused momentarily as if she was thinking before adding, “and whoever else you may have hiding up in your closet.” She laughed again. “You better watch it, girl. Those skeletons are gonna jump out at the wrong time.”
“Whatcha mean by that?” I asked, staring her head-on. I wondered if
she knew something I didn’t. She always claimed to know everything about everybody all the time.
“I mean that I know a few girls that have their eyes on Zeek.” Denise spat the words out like she didn’t want to tell me. I watched her for clues as she sipped from her drink again. “You better be careful.” Pity owned her face, but honesty flowed from her lips, honesty that stabbed deep into my soul like a two-edged sword.
“Who? Where? Who are the heifers?” I was not going to let another chick take what was rightfully mine. I have been with him for a year and nobody’s going to take him away.
“Calm down, girl. I got off early today and when I was up at the corner
store getting some gas, I overheard Adrienne and Debra talking. You remember Adrienne that works at the art gallery and Debra, the model?”
“Yeah, what were they saying?” I needed to know. Debra was supposed to be this goody-goody girl and all of the guys loved her. She’s a model and well-known throughout the Queen City of North Carolina. I could give her a run for her money any day, but her popularity would kill my game every time.
“I heard Debra saying something about Zeek looking fine as wine at the mall. He must’ve gone there yesterday or something.”
Zeek is what Denise called Isaiah. Although our friendship demanded she tell me, Denise’s body language told me that she didn’t want to get involved. Looking at the way she fidgeted around the apartment, I just felt that she knew more than she was willing to tell.
Our eyes escaped one another as I replied, “Thanks a lot.”
“What?” she asked, jotting up an eyebrow.
I shook my head, knowing her too well. “You suppose to be my girl.”
“What was I suppose to do, jump the girl?”
I wanted to say yeah, but knew it was a rhetorical question. She, at this point in time, knew me better than anybody. Denise was there for me when I had my abortion, she was there for me when I had broken up with the guy who didn’t want me or the baby, and she was right by my side at graduation. Despite our close-knit past, there was a spine-tingling feeling telling me that there wouldn’t be a future. I don’t know why, but deception reeked in the room.
“No, you should’ve told them that he got a girl. I just hate it when females try to move in on other people’s property.” We shared in blank
stares as she knew I was wrong for saying that.
“You of all people should know better,” Denise responded, sliding her
feet into a pair of bedroom slippers.
Yeah, I knew better, but some people just don’t understand. I’m a young female with the weight of the world on my shoulders. My parents were divorced ever since I was thirteen and every relationship that I have ever been in melted like hot wax on a romantic evening. The most damaging descriptions could not even begin to explain my pain. I feel like a tortured soul living in an imperfect world, a world where I felt forced to
conform. It’s all right though, I’m just going with the flow, feeling my ground, and living my life to the fullest. Hey, I’m still young with a long life ahead of me. And despite the cynical look Denise has in her eyes right now, I’m still going to live it my way.
“I’ve gotta go.” I picked up my purse, not even bothering to ask her for that dress I came by for.
“Wait, you just got here. Why are you leaving?” She walked over to where I was standing near the front door.
It was stupid of her to ask such a question. “I have to find a way to keep my man. Ain’t no weave-wearing heifer gonna take him away.” I smiled at my words as I flipped my fake ponytail. “Not while I’m around.”
Denise’s eyes barely escaped mine as she walked me to the door. Discern in my eyes and concern in hers. I could see right through her front, detecting her mortal thoughts, the images in her mind intuitively linked to mine. I could see her deceiving me in the worst way. I can’t describe why or how, but I just knew. I just knew that there was more than meets the eye.
Standing there in her indigo ensemble, Denise was no longer the same person I knew five minutes ago. The strong aura of deception was no longer able to mask itself. She didn’t want to be my friend. She didn’t even want to be around me. I initially noticed a small change when Jamal had asked her to marry him four months ago, but now it was a full-blown masquerade party. The props were set and the curtains went up for show time. Only thing that seemed strange was that I felt like I was the main character: a character that had become three-dimensional. No longer flat,but rounded with the attributes of Lady Macbeth—envy, spite, disgust,malice. I was trapped into a world of my own; a world that I, myself, had assembled.
“What’s wrong with you?” Denise questioned, dropping her hands on her hips.
I shook my head and answered, “Nothing...nothing at all.”
There wasn’t anything else left to be said. I knew all that I needed to know. “Look, I really have to go.” I opened the door and walked away with more insight than when I had arrived.
I left Denise standing at her entrance with a confused look painted across her face. I drove away, not knowing if that would be the last time I’d see her. I didn’t get that outfit I went to her house for. I really didn’t want anything from her now. I went across town, all the while, thinking about how to make sure my boyfriend stays my boyfriend.
“Can you ring me up?” I asked a cashier. I needed some gear that Isaiah had never seen me in before. I bought a tight, form-fitting outfit that accented in all the right places: a red number that screamed corruption.
“That’ll be sixty-five dollars and thirty-two cents.”
I handed over the money and she disbursed the goods. “Thanks.” I left the store feeling like I was on a mission. When I first realized that I was in love with Isaiah, we had only been together three months. Now, walking through the mall I question whether it was really love or lust. At any rate, I love him now. Hearing that someone else has their eyes on him stimulates my blood to boil.
Isaiah is the kind of man that every woman would appreciate. I can admit that. Denise, my best friend, was right in saying that I should watch
my back. I just hope that she’s not the one wanting to jump on it. She may
be engaged and everything, but Ise, Zeek as she calls him, is one in a million. Deep almond skin tone, thick, braided hair, and a strong, cut body.
Isaiah captured every aspect of a true man, but his preoccupation with wanting to settle down scared me a little. He hasn’t asked me to marry him… yet, but the inkling of him doing so flooded thoughts of shackles around my feet. I have always been my own woman, independent to the bone.
When I first laid eyes on Isaiah, we were considered perfect strangers. Now that I know his heart, I feel that we’re forced friends. His clinging has driven me into the arms of another man, but greed won’t allow me to let him go. Isaiah is there for me. He appreciates my inner qualities, even
accepts the bad ones. My past presented so many problems that I thought no decent man would want me, but Ise was there. We talked about how
my ex-boyfriend left me pregnant and alone. He comforted me when I told him that I felt forced to kill my child. A child that I thought would ruin my life...two years ago, tomorrow.
Months of ecstasy and moments of neglect defined me. Tony came into the picture like a thief in the night. He stole on me and tamed my inner desire. He kept me occupied, but also built a wall of unwanted regret. His inviting smile and devilish grin, planted a seed of curiosity in my mind. This curiosity grew into plain ‘ole experimentation of one night that led others to follow. I knew I was wrong.
Just as I made my way into the parking lot, my eyes froze on Jermaine, Isaiah’s ace. He was walking back to his car with keys jingling in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. I opened my mouth to say something, but resentment choked my words.
This was the same dude that caught me slipping away from my midnight rendezvous. Jermaine’s eyes met with mine as I reminisced on what he knew I had done. As soon as I saw him that night, three weeks ago, I rushed home and called Isaiah. I pretended that I was asleep, awoken by a bad dream. He believed me and when Jermaine called him the next morning, it was too late.
Our eyes took sharp corners as we both climbed into our individual vehicles. Jermaine squealed out voicing his outrage with me and I smiled,accepting it. He had no idea who he was dealing with. I had Isaiah eating out of the palms of my hands. No matter how much of a friend He was or is to Isaiah, I have him.
I glanced over at the plastic bag lying on the seat next to me, feeling
the competition I had racing on my heels. Debra may be a model, but I was who Isaiah wanted. I was who he was with. The one he shared his dreams, goals, and aspirations. If vanity’s the game she wants to play, put me in the line-up at the starting mark, I’ll even give her a head start. She just doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. Isaiah is my man. One look at me tonight and he’ll never hink about looking at another woman. I promise you...
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