Betrayal (28 page)

Cynthia's eyes flashed with the wounded disbelief of someone who'd been grievously betrayed. “That bitch,” she hissed.

“Right,” Brandon mocked. “She came clean and told the truth, but
she's
the bitch.”

Cynthia's face flushed. “Don't be fooled into thinking her motives were pure,” she spat resentfully. “I've always suspected Leah has feelings for you, Brandon. I wouldn't be surprised if she ‘came clean' just to break us up!”

“I don't give a fuck!” Brandon thundered, lunging from the chair. “We're not talking about Leah! We're talking about you and your shady behavior! I mean, come on, Cynthia. Faking a
pregnancy?
How long did you seriously think you could get away with that shit? What if you'd never gotten pregnant? Were you gonna start hiding your body from me so I wouldn't know you were wearing one of those fake fat suits? Were you gonna pretend to go into ‘labor' while I was conveniently out of town or something? Were you gonna steal somebody's baby and pass it off as ours?”

Cynthia's face reddened with humiliation as he fired the questions at her as if she were under cross-examination.

“Answer me, damn it!” he prodded furiously. “How far were you willing to go to pull this off? Huh? How far?”

“
As far as I had to!
” she exploded.

Brandon stilled, eyeing her incredulously. “Do you know how crazy you sound right now? Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”

Tears flooded her eyes. “I didn't know what else to do, Brandon! You and Tamia were getting back together. You took her to Italy and . . .” She trailed off, chin quivering. “I love you—”

“DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT LOVE!” Brandon roared. “You don't know a damn thing about love when you can lie to my face every day and not think twice about it! My God, Cynthia, you deceived me into believing you were having my
child
. You knew the kind of man I am. You knew I'd wanna do the right thing and marry you. You played me like a muthafucka!”

“I'm sorry,” she cried piteously. “I didn't mean to hurt you, Brandon! I just wanted you to love me as much as I've always loved you!”

“By tricking me into marrying you?
That's
how you planned to win my heart?”

Tears spilled down her face. “She doesn't deserve you, Brandon. And she's not right for you!”

“But you are,” he mocked scornfully.

“
Yes!
You and I were the closest of friends before you ever met Tamia! If she hadn't come along, I know you would have eventually realized that we belong together. We're good for each other, Brandon. And if you have any political aspirations whatsoever, you need
me
by your side—not that whore!”

Brandon raked her with a look of scathing contempt. “You know what? I'm done with this conversation, and I'm done with you. Have a nice fucking life.”

She gasped as he shoved past her and stalked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” she taunted bitterly. “Crawling back to Tamia?”

“Don't worry about where the fuck I'm going. All you need to worry about is packing up your shit and getting the fuck up outta here before I come back.”

She started forward beseechingly. “Brandon—”

“I'm dead serious, Cynthia. I want you gone. Vanished. Ghost. The front desk is bringing up moving boxes, and a driver will be here to load up a rental van for you. You got two hours to get your shit together before security shows up to escort your ass out, so I suggest you get cracking.”

Shooting her one last scornful glare, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Two minutes later, he was climbing into his car when Dre called.

“Wassup, B.”

“Yo, wassup.”

“You and Cynthia still going to that party at her friend's house?”

“Nah, man. I think I'll ring in the New Year with y'all at Cornel's club.”

“Word? That's cool. It's gon' be off da chain.” Dre chuckled. “So what's good with you? What you up to?”

Brandon sighed. “Just taking out the trash, bruh. Just taking out the trash . . .”

“Where do you want this, ma'am?” grunted one of the red-faced furniture deliverymen who greeted Tamia when she opened the front door.

“Right this way.”

She turned and led the two men through the penthouse to the bedroom, where they lowered a California king mattress onto the platform bedframe. Tamia thanked them and signed off on the delivery before seeing them to the door.

Dominic had purchased the new mattress after she told him she didn't want to continue sleeping in the same bed he'd shared with all his other mistresses. The replacement mattress, delivered on the eve of a new year, was supposed to signal a clean slate for them. A new beginning in their relationship . . . a relationship Tamia wasn't even sure she still wanted after spending time with Brandon yesterday.

I hope being together made you both realize that you can't live without each other,
Fiona's words drifted through her mind.

Don't even go there
, another voice warned
. It's over between you and Brandon. Stop looking back. Keep moving forward!

Easier said than done.

Tamia frowned, returning to her laptop to finish working on promo materials for the Ehrlichs' B and B. Dre had generously secured a raving endorsement from a Houston Texans player and his wife, so Tamia was featuring the couple in an ad campaign set to launch before Valentine's Day.

When her phone rang on the breakfast counter, she reached over and picked it up.

“Hey, love.” It was Dominic. “Have they delivered the mattress yet?”

“Yup,” Tamia confirmed. “They just left.”

“Cool.” He chuckled wickedly. “I look forward to christening it tonight after we get back from the party.”

“If we're not too tired.”

“Come on now. You know I'm never too tired to make love to you.”

Speak for yourself,
Tamia mused.

She'd been exhausted lately, craving naps at all hours of the day. Her chronic fatigue, coupled with the nausea she'd been experiencing, were definitely causes for concern. But she wasn't ready to explore the suspicion taking root in her mind. There was too much to hope for . . . too much to fear.

“How are things going at the restaurant?” she asked Dominic, who was hosting a New Year's Eve bash at Winston's tonight.

“Everything's shaping up nicely. I just need to check on a few more things, then I'll be on my way home.”

“Okay.” Tamia smiled. “See you soon.”

She had just ended the call when her phone rang again. Recognizing Officer Greene's number, she answered, “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Luke. This is Officer Greene. How're you doing?”

“I'm fine. Do you have any new information about my case?” she asked hopefully.

“I don't, unfortunately. As you know, the two women who assaulted you—”

“Isabel Archer's cousins.”

“Yes—Dashay and Jamila Ganteaume. As you know, they're both out on bail and are awaiting trial. I feel confident that they're the ones who left you the note, and this will come out during the trial.”

Tamia frowned, wishing she shared his optimism. She still wasn't entirely convinced that Isabel's cousins were responsible for the note. But with no other leads to go on, there was nothing she could do but wait for the truth to come out.
If
it ever came out.

“Anyway, there's another reason I was calling.” Keyshawn cleared his throat, suddenly sounding nervous. “I hope this doesn't seem inappropriate, but I was wondering . . . I mean, I know it's short notice and it's New Year's Eve, but if you don't have any plans this evening, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me.”

Tamia was taken aback. “Are you asking me out on a
date
?”

“Um, yeah. I don't know if you're seeing anyone—”

“I am,” she cut him off. “But even if I weren't, I wouldn't go out with you. And you've got a lot of nerve coming on to me when you already have a girlfriend.”

There was a startled pause on the other end. “I don't have a girlfriend,” he said, sounding perplexed. “Who told you that?”

“Oh, please,” Tamia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I know damn well you've been dating my friend Honey.”

“Who?”

Tamia sucked her teeth. “Why you tryna play me, Keyshawn? I know all about your relationship with Honey.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Luke, but I don't know anyone by that name.”

Tamia frowned. “She goes by Honey, but her real name is Halima. Halima Selvon.”

“Halima,” Keyshawn repeated, mulling over the name as if he was trying to jog his memory. “There was a young woman I arrested for solicitation sometime last year. The charges were later dropped, but now that I think about it, her name
was
Halima . . . or something like that. Like I said, it was a while ago.”

Tamia was perched tensely on the edge of the bar stool. “So what you're telling me is that you
don't
have a girlfriend named Honey?”

Keyshawn chuckled. “I don't have a girlfriend—period. But I'd be interested to know why someone's running around claiming me as their boyfriend. I don't know whether to be flattered or alarmed.”

“I'll let you know when I find out,” Tamia whispered before ending the call, pulse thudding, mind racing with speculation.

Why would Honey have lied about dating Keyshawn Greene? Why would she have concocted an elaborate story about being in an abusive relationship with him? Why had she—

Tamia froze, struck by another realization.

Honey wasn't the only one who'd told Tamia about Keyshawn.

Lou had also confirmed the relationship the night he'd come to her apartment for dinner. She remembered him thanking her for letting Honey stay with her after she'd gotten into a fight with Keyshawn.

Lou had been so angry, so fiercely protective over Honey.

Either Keyshawn was lying about not knowing her—or Honey and Lou had played Tamia for a fool.

As a surge of anger swept through Tamia, she jumped to her feet, snatched her car keys off the foyer table, and slammed out of the apartment.

 

Thirty minutes later, she whipped her car into the circular driveway of the large house Lou had purchased—along with an Escalade and a Beemer—after opening his escort agency.

As Tamia glared at the two-story house and luxury vehicles, she remembered what Shanell had told her on the night of her homecoming party after she was acquitted.

Seething with fury, Tamia hopped out of her car and marched up to the front door, a baseball bat swinging at her side.

Lou answered the door, his hazel eyes widening in surprise when he saw her. “
Mamacita
! What are—”

“Where is she?” Tamia snarled.

“Where's who?”

“You know damn well who.” Tamia shoved her way past him, barging into the house and looking around. “Where the fuck is she?”

Lou closed the door behind her. “What's going on, Tamia?”

“That's what I came to ask you,” she spat, rounding accusingly on him. “You and that lil bitch got some explaining to do, so go get her or I will!”

“Tamia—”

“
GO GET HER!
”

“Whoa!” Lou leaped back as she swung the bat in warning. He held up his hands in surrender, eyes wide with alarm. “Damn,
mamacita
! Easy with that.”

“I want some fucking answers,
papi
, or muthafuckas gon' start droppin'!”

“Come on, Tamia—”

“She's right,” spoke a quiet, resigned voice. “She deserves answers.”

Tamia whirled around.

Honey stood across the living room toking on a blunt, watching Tamia through a veil of smoke. Her hair was tousled, and she wore one of Lou's dress shirts that hung down to her thick thighs.

She sighed, shaking her head at Tamia. “I knew this day was coming when you told me you'd met Keyshawn.”

Tamia's eyes narrowed menacingly. “Why the hell did you lie about dating him?”

Lou and Honey exchanged guilty looks.

“Somebody better start talking!” Tamia shouted, tightening her grip on the baseball bat.

Honey gestured nervously to the sofa. “Why don't we sit down?”

“I don't wanna sit down,” Tamia spat, stalking toward the living room.

Lou darted around her, using himself as a barrier between her and Honey. Tamia scowled as Honey lowered herself onto the sofa, flashing leopard-print panties that reminded Tamia of the pair she'd found at Dominic's apartment.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the girl tuck her legs beneath her and take a deep drag on the blunt.

“Could you put that shit out?” Tamia snapped. “The smell's making me sick.”

Honey quickly complied.

As Lou went and stood beside the sofa, Tamia began pacing back and forth, the bat swinging at her side as she glared at Honey.

“Keyshawn called and asked me out on a date,” she explained. “I turned him down and told him off because I
thought
he was dating my so-called friend. Imagine my surprise when he told me he didn't even know you.”

Honey swallowed visibly. “I needed him for my cover.”

“Your cover for
what?
”

“To get into your life . . . to spy on you.”

Tamia froze, a chill running through her. “To
spy
on me? For who?”

“Bishop Yarbrough.” Honey paused. “He's the one who told Dominic that you were Mystique.”

Tamia stared at the girl, reeling with shock and outrage. “
Bishop Yarbrough?
”

“Yes.” Honey looked her in the eye. “And I'm the one who told him who you were.”

“WHAT?”

As Tamia lunged at Honey, Lou moved quickly, knocking the bat out of her hand and holding her back as she struggled furiously in his arms.

“Calm down,
mamacita
,” he urged. “Just hear her out. Please—”

“
I can't believe you betrayed me like that!
” Tamia screamed at Honey. “I took you into my home! I treated you like my own damn sister! I
TRUSTED
you!”

Honey's nostrils flared, tears springing to her eyes. “I'm sorry, Tamia. I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me—”

“I
don't
believe you!”

Honey sniffled, dragging a shaky hand through her hair.

Chest heaving with fury, Tamia viciously jerked free of Lou's grasp and retrieved her bat from the floor, then sat down in the nearest armchair. Resting the bat beside her, she crossed her legs, folded her arms, and glared at Honey.

“Start talking, bitch.”

Honey inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. “When I found out that Lou's studio was losing money last year, I started moonlighting as an escort to make some extra money. I told you before that I've been trying to save up enough to bring my family here from New Orleans—”

Tamia sneered. “How do I know
that
wasn't a lie?”

“It wasn't. I swear to you that everything I told you about my family—even my grandmother's bad heart—was true.”

Tamia gritted her teeth. “Go on.”

“Working as an escort is how I met Bishop Yarbrough. One night I was waiting outside for him when Officer Greene showed up and arrested me for solicitation. Since I kept my mouth shut and didn't tell the cops that Bishop Yarbrough was my client, he pulled some strings to get the charges dropped against me. That's when I started thinking of other ways we could help each other.”

Honey paused, nervously moistening her lips before she continued. “We spent a lot of time talking about his family, especially Cynthia. She was his princess, his angel, and she could do no wrong. Honestly,” Honey added, wrinkling her nose in disgust, “at one point I thought there might be some incest going on, that's how attached he is to her. It was clear to me that he'd do anything for her.”

Tamia frowned, remembering how Cynthia's parents had behaved at the fundraiser gala, hovering over her as if she were a child.

Honey shook her head, heaving a deep sigh. “What Cynthia wanted more than anything, of course, was Brandon. She loved that brotha like crazy, but he wasn't checking for her like that. Then he met you, Tamia, and Cynthia
really
didn't stand a chance. She confided in her parents about everything, and it made Bishop Yarbrough kinda mad that she was so hung up on Brandon. He didn't think anyone was good enough for his little girl, and I think he even felt a little jealous of Brandon. But he wanted Cynthia to be happy, and he also wanted her to marry Brandon so their two families could be even more powerful. He always referred to them as the black Kennedys and Rockefellers.”

Honey paused, glancing apologetically at Lou. “One night after Lou and I slept together, we got really high. I was joking about Mystique, asking Lou if I was a better fuck than she was. He said he didn't know because he'd never fucked her. And then he slipped up and said your real name.” Honey bit her lip, shaking her head at Tamia. “I couldn't believe you were the same Tamia Luke who'd been causing Bishop Yarbrough's daughter so much misery.”