Chapter Six
Two hours had passed, and the crowd had slowly diminished. While employees packed up Trenton's remaining books, the guest of honor headed toward the restroom. Ramsey slowly rose from his chair and entered the restroom, where he found Trenton at the sink, washing his hands. Trenton looked into the mirror and recognized a familiar face. He pulled some paper towels out of the holder and dried his hands.
Trenton held his hand out to shake Ramsey's hand. “Ramsey Stone, what a nice surprise. It's been a while.”
Instead of shaking his hand, Ramsey walked up to him and punched him square in the face, knocking him on the floor.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Trenton asked as he touched his lip and saw that it was bleeding.
Before he could say another word, Ramsey grabbed him by the neck and pulled him off the floor and slammed him hard against the wall. Trenton eyes bulged in disbelief, making it obvious that he'd been caught by surprise. Ramsey's grip on his neck was tight as he got right in his face and spoke.
“If I hear of you calling, touching, or even breathing in the same space as my wife, I will kill you. Do you understand?” Ramsey released his grip slightly on Trenton's neck so he could speak.
With his voice nearly ripped from his throat, he whispered, “I don't know what you're talking about, man.”
Ramsey slammed his head into the wall again and said, “I'm talking about Keilah.”
Trenton's eyes widened with surprise.
“What?” Ramsey asked. “You didn't think she would tell me, huh? She told me about the telephone call you made to her and what happened on the plane to New York.”
“I didn't know Keilah was married to you,” he replied in sheer terror.
“She didn't have to tell you!” Ramsey yelled. “Once she said she was married, that should've been the end of it. You will not disrespect my wife or our marriage. You had your chance with her, and you blew it. Move on.”
Trenton now had tears in his eyes as his oxygen supply was slowly being cut off. He could tell by the grip on his neck that Ramsey could actually kill him if he wanted to.
“I'm sorry, Ramsey. Please, you have toâ”
Ramsey punched him hard in the stomach, causing Trenton to grimace in pain. “Shut your damn mouth! I don't have to do anything.”
“Okay, okay, I'm sorry.”
Ramsey released his grip on Trenton's neck and asked, “Do we have an understanding?”
Trenton nodded in agreement.
Ramsey smacked him on the side of the head and said, “I can't hear you. Do we have an understanding?”
Still trying to catch his breath, Trenton leaned over with his hands on his knees and said, “I understand. You don't have to worry about me bothering or contacting Keilah.”
Ramsey reached for the door, but before opening it, he turned to Trenton one more time and said, “Oh, and if you decide to get a brain and think you can sue me for assaulting you, think again, unless you want Keilah to charge you with sexual harassment. I'm sure Howard University, your publishing company, or BET wouldn't want their golden boy involved in a scandal.”
And with that comment, he was gone. Alone in the restroom, Trenton got himself together as best he could. He made his way over to the sink and doused his face with cold water so he could wash the blood from his lip. When he looked in the mirror, he grimaced at the sight of himself. His shirt was wrinkled and smeared with blood droplets, so he grabbed a wet paper towel and tried to clean it, and then he pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on before leaving the restroom.
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When Ramsey returned home, he hoped everyone was still asleep after being up so late the night before. He entered the kitchen, and to his surprise, he found his father reading the paper and drinking coffee.
“Good morning, son.”
“Good morning, Daddy,” Ramsey answered as he patted Target on the head.
Marion closed the newspaper and said, “What's got you up and out so early this morning?”
Ramsey turned away from his father to get a cup out of the cabinet. “Nothing much. I just had to run an errand.”
Marion took the cup, poured his son a cup of coffee, and handed it to him. “Does it have anything to do with that blood on your shirt?”
Ramsey looked down at the droplets of blood on his shirt. He'd been so angry when he left the café, he didn't think to check his attire. “It's nothing. I cut myself shaving.”
“I'm no fool, Ramsey Stone,” Marion replied. “I'm your father, and I know trouble when I see it.”
“Everything's fine, Dad. You don't have anything to worry about.”
Marion took another sip of his coffee and closed the newspaper and said, “I hope not, and you'd better change your shirt before your mother or Keilah sees it, and believe me, they won't accept your explanation as easily as I did.”
Ramsey poured a little cream in his coffee and politely answered, “Yes, sir.”
He disappeared into the laundry room to remove his shirt. When he returned to the kitchen, he found Valeria holding Neariah.
“Good morning, son.”
“Good morning, Mom.
As soon as Neariah heard her father's voice, she immediately reached out for him and started to whine.
Valeria handed her granddaughter over to her son and said, “She's too spoiled.”
Ramsey held his daughter high above his head and smiled up at her, ignoring his mother's comment. Neariah looked down at her dad and let out a loud giggle. It was obvious that she was quite comfortable with what he was doing. She was beautiful with her light complexion matching his, her dark brown eyes, and a head full of curly hair. There was no doubt she was his daughter. She looked so much like him, except that she had her mother's eyes.
“Ramsey, be careful. You're going to drop her,” his mother warned him as she tightened the belt on her bathrobe.
He lowered Neariah and held her close to his heart. “Mom, I would never drop my daughter. She loves it when I hold her up in the air.”
Marion picked up his cup of coffee and headed toward the patio doors.
“Where are you going?” Valeria asked as she prepared breakfast for her granddaughter.
“I'll let you two have a moment. I'm going to take Target out for a little walk around the backyard.”
Valeria turned her attention back to her son, looking him up and down. “Why are you fully dressed so early in the morning? Where are you going?”
Marion laughed as he closed the door behind him, knowing his wife was going to give their son the third degree.
Ramsey placed Neariah in her high chair, sat down in the chair next to her, and said, “I had to run an errand.”
His mother sat down across from him and set his cup of coffee in front of him. She stirred the bowl of cereal for Neariah and asked, “What kind of errand did you have so early in the morning?”
Ramsey looked over at his mother and gave her a look to let her know that she was prying a little too much for his taste.
“Well, excuse me for asking,” she said as she held the spoon of cereal out to Neariah. “You and Keilah need to let Neariah stay with us more often so she'll get used to us.”
He leaned back in the chair and took a sip of coffee and said, “When she gets a little older, we will. Right now neither one of us can stand being away from her for too long.”
Valeria pointed at him and said, “I'm going to hold you to it.”
Ramsey finished off his coffee and asked, “Is Keilah up?”
“Not really,” she answered. “She brought Neariah into the room to change her, but I told her to go back to bed and I would take care of her.”
He stood and said, “I'd better go check on her. I'm sure Sabrinia and Aunt Judy will be getting up shortly to start cooking. Do you want me to take Neariah back upstairs with me?”
“She's still eating. I'll bring her up to you if I have a problem.”
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Across town, Michael felt like he had lost track of time after being held in captivity for so long. He had had a comfortable night at the hotel, but he was anxious to get his life back and sleep in his own bed. He needed time to readjust to his military and personal world. He would start with his personal life by staying at his town house. The hotel was nice, but there was nothing like home. He asked the taxi cab driver to take the scenic route home to drive him by some of his favorite landmarks of D.C.
When he finally arrived home and entered the foyer, it smelled clean and like fresh flowers. He knew his aunt and uncle had spruced up the place before his arrival, and he was thankful they had maintained it and had handled all his bills and business in his absence. In the kitchen he opened the refrigerator to find it fully stocked with all his favorite foods. As he made his way into the family room, he noticed a slight chill in the air and turned on the gas fireplace before heading upstairs. He propped his bag against the wall, sat down on the side of the bed, and hung his head. It felt strange to be sitting in the room, which held so many memories, some good and some very bad. A lot of people had been hurt in that room physically and emotionally, and he wanted to make amends since he knew firsthand how short life was after nearly losing his own. He picked up the telephone and dialed his uncle's number. As he waited for him to answer, a sense of calmness overtook him and he was immediately energized.
“Hello, Unc. It's Michael.”
“Michael, I'm glad you called. Are you settling in okay?”
“Yes, and I appreciate you guys cleaning the place for me and stocking the fridge with food, but I need a huge favor.”
With concern in his voice, Malcolm said, “Sure, nephew. What do you need?”
“I need the name and number of your friend that's a real estate agent. I want to sell my town house.”
“Sell it?” Malcolm asked. “Michael, you love that place. Why do you want to sell it?”
Michael sighed and said, “After everything's that's happened, I need a fresh start. I don't know if D.C. is the place for me anymore.”
“Wait a second, Michael. You've been through a very traumatic event, and you don't want to make any major decisions without thinking them through. Son, you just got back. Give yourself time to exhale. Besides, your aunt would be devastated if you moved away.”
“I don't know, Unc. I don't feel comfortable here anymore.”
“All I'm asking you is to give yourself time to think things over,” Malcolm suggested. “Now, I'll give your number to my friend in a few days, and if you still feel the same way, then do what you feel you need to do. We'll support you no matter what.”
“Thank you, Uncle Malcolm.”
“Great! Now, your aunt is preparing a nice Thanksgiving dinner for the family, and she expects to see you. She's driving me crazy, so you'd better show up.”
Michael chuckled and said, “I'll be there.”
“Perfect. In the meantime relax and enjoy being back in your home.”
“I will. Talk to you soon.”
Michael hung up the telephone and walked over to his desk and turned on his laptop. He sat down and Googled the Stone-Chance Protection Agency and entered the Web site. He wantedâno, neededâto see Keilah, even though he knew she hated what he did to her. He had deceived her in the worst way. He never got a chance to apologize to her for his deception, not that she wanted to hear anything he had to say, anyway. He should be thankful for the fact that she had allowed him to live after what he did to her. It was the ultimate betrayal, but everyone deserved forgiveness ... right? He jotted down the telephone number to the agency and tucked it into his pocket and then began to unpack his bag. In every room he went into, he had vivid memories of heartbreak.
The town house was in an ideal location, close to downtown, near restaurants and shops, and was now worth double what he had paid for it a few years ago. It also helped that he had upgraded his kitchen and master bathroom and all the landscaping. He had also finished the basement and had turned it into a great entertaining space, fully equipped with a bar, a big-screen TV, and a pool table. He needed a fresh start and something to keep his mind off his past. He also had some other decisions to make, one that included possibly retiring from the military and settling down once and for all. His desire for a family was stronger than ever now. He'd messed up once, but he vowed never to do it again. In fact, his therapist had encouraged him to move forward with his life and not get stagnate, so as soon as Thanksgiving was over, he would put his
new
life into motion.