Read Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE) Online

Authors: Jean St. Claire

Tags: #african american romance, #interracial romance, #white guy black girl love, #scandal tv romance, #multicultural romance

Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE) (7 page)

After one nasty argument with his father when he had dared show him the error of some of the programs' wasteful spending with his math skills, Zack knew better than to say anything.

"Meanwhile, cheer up kiddo and stop looking so down," his father chided him. "We're on top of the world."

"Yeah okay," Zack muttered when his father had left the room.

Zack sat watching the vamp drama for several minutes before turning the TV off and heading up to his bedroom.

Chapter 8

"I
s those honkies mistreating you?" Joy asked.

"Momma!" gasped Keisha, scandalized.

"What baby? I'm being for real. Don't act like them white folks love us now."

Keisha let out chuckle, using her shoulder to press her cell to her ear while she clipped her toenails, sitting on the edge of her bathtub in her silk gown. She was going to need to visit the salon with a quickness.

"I'm surprised actually, Momma," Keisha said. "Things have been wonderful. She paused to brush off some of the clippings onto the bathroom floor.  "Now, I ain't gone lie. I was really afraid of my reception and I was absolutely
sure
within first day to week, someone would show their ignorant ass, causing me to have to quit. But that never happened. In fact," Keisha giggled, "I'm treated like some sort of celebrity. They be asking me all sorts of crazy shit about black people, like I'm some damn dictionary. Why do black people do this? Why do black people do that? I'm like hell I don't fucking know, shit. I just do what I do and niggas do what they do."

"Girl, watch yo damn mouth!" Joy reprimanded.

Keisha coughed, her face burning with shame. "Sorry momma."

"So everything is peaches and cream?" Joy asked.

Keisha nodded. "Yep. The kids respect and like me...it ain't
nothing
like the mess I had to put up with at Hawthorne, let me tell you. And even the teachers and faculty treat me with fascination." Smiling, Keisha added, "I never thought I would say this momma, but I ain't never been so happy to be around so many white folks in my entire life."

"Ain't that some shit," Joy murmured with awe.

"So yeah," Keisha continued, "I'm really happy right now. I get my first paycheck in a couple of days."

"Well, I'm happy for you baby girl," Joy said. "You deserve it." After a slight pause she asked, "And how is things with Davonte?"

A dark expression came over Keisha's face and she sighed. "I don't know momma. He should be absolutely joyful for me after how he acted when he found out I had quit my job, but he has been acting strange for weeks now."

"Nigga probably can't take it cause you happy," Joy was quick to say. "Can't stand to see you doing good."

Now that did not make sense to Keisha one bit. If she was doing good, Davonte was doing good. Why would he be mad that she was now happy working at a stress free job? Money was money.

Keisha had no clue how much they had because Davonte had been adamant when they got together that he would be the one running the finances, but if he wasn't complaining about it, it could only mean everything was fine.

"Nah momma," Keisha said finally. "He is just depressed."

Probably cause his wife can't give him head without wanting to throw up on his dick.

"Well I don't believe it," said Joy, unconvinced. "But if you say so."

There was an odd silence over the cell line before her mother said, "Keisha baby."

Oh lord.

When her mother said those words, Keisha knew she wanted something from her.

"Yeah momma?"

"I need a favor from you, honey child."

Holding back a sigh, Keisha asked, "What is it?"

"Well you know me and yo Auntie Linda speak every day. Well gurl, let me tell you, she ain't been answering her phone for days now. At first I thought she was just mad at my ass, but as time went on I began to realize something may be wrong. The last time I talked to her, her and big Willy was getting into a nasty fight. So now I'm real worried."

"Well, what you want me to do about it?" Keisha asked, concerned. "Call the cops to go check on her?"

"Hell nah, girl!" Joy snapped with alarm. "You know what yo crazy auntie be doin!" After a moment, she said, "Nah. What I need you to do is go over there and make sure she is alright."

Oh Jesus
, Keisha thought.

Her aunt Linda lived in the heart of the projects on the south side. Though Keisha had commuted to the bad side of the city every day, the area Hawthorne was situated in was considered Elysium compared to where Linda stayed at.

"Lord, I hope big Willy ain't done nothin to that girl," her momma whispered with worry.

With a great sigh, Keisha said, "Okay momma. I'm leaving right now to go check on her."

"Thank you baby."

"Shit!" Keisha cursed after she hung up the phone.

Racing into her bedroom she slipped out of her gown into some jeans and t-shirt, grabbed her purse and keys off the bedroom dresser and headed downstairs.

Davonte was sitting on the couch, dressed casually in some grey sweats and a black t-shirt, playing the Playstation with their two babies. He looked up when Keisha came into the room, eyeing her purse with curiosity.

"Where the hell you think you going?"

"I got to go check on my aunt Linda," Keisha explained. "Momma said she ain't been answering her phone and the last time she talked to her she was getting into a fight with Big Willy."

"Shit!" Davonte cursed, dropping the game controller on the floor and standing up. "Let me call Maria to come watch these kids."

"Daddy, you just lost us the game!" whined Jamal, snatching up the controller from off the floor.

"Ain't nobody got time for that Davonte," Keisha said, crossing over to the door, worry pressing down on her heart. "Something bad could have already happened to her."

"Keisha I ain't comfortable with you going over there by yourself," Davonte protested.

"Too damn bad!" Keisha snapped, her hand on the doorknob. "Have you forgotten I've driven to the south side nearly every day these past several years all by myself? Don't forget that you were raised there."

"Keisha, just let me call this girl right quick," Davonte said holding up his hands to keep his wife from walking out the door. "She'll be here in less than twenty minutes."

"Bye Davonte," Keisha said, turning, "Love you babies."

"Keisha!"

Keisha opened the door and rushed down the driveway, jumped into her Lexus and pulled off. A moment later, Davonte came running out onto the walkway, calling her name while barefoot, but was accosted by the nosy neighbor Holly who just so happened to be standing at the edge of her lawn for no apparent reason.

The bitch probably thought they were having an argument.

Her mind was filled with worry while she raced across town. Her aunt Linda was the oldest sister of her mother's three sisters. She also happened to be the only sister her mother could tolerate.

Always in a perpetual state of quarreling, the sisters rarely talked to each other, except Linda and her mother.

Linda had helped Keisha when she was just starting out, studying to become a teacher, so she owed her aunt a lot. The only problem was, her aunt could be ignorant as hell.

An educated woman that had worked as a secretary for the sheriff's office for many years, you would never guess it with how the woman could act when she was in her own house deep within the hood.

"Come on, God damn it!" Keisha yelled when she got stopped at a stoplight near the entrance to the south side, slamming on her horn.

A black woman stopped in the lane across from her, rolled her eyes at Keisha's fury.

"The fuck you looking at?" Keisha snapped, ready to jump out and fight.

The woman quickly averted her eyes.

She almost got into several accidents on her way to Linda's house.

When she pulled onto her aunt's street, her heart nearly stopped when she saw what was just outside her house. She then let out a surprised gasp, her heart racing like a jackhammer. "Lord, help me, Jesus."

There were police cars everywhere, emergency personnel and a whole lot of yellow tape. There were several sheets on the ground, covering still forms. This could only mean one thing.

A homicide had been committed.

Chapter 9

"A
untie Linda!" Keisha yelled, pounding on her aunt's door, her heart racing in her ears.

Oh my God, what am I going to tell momma?

Keisha had parked to the side of all the commotion. When personnel had refused to immediately talk to her, she ran onto her Aunt's porch, screaming her name.

After waiting several minutes, wringing her hands with panic, she began to pull her cell out her purse, dreading what she had to do. That's when she heard the lock on the inside being undone, and she watched as the door was snatched open, revealing a gaunt face.

"My niece!"

"Thank you God!" Keisha wept with joy, relief filling her body.

If there was a real life version of the crypt keeper from
Tales from the Crypt,
then her aunt was the prime example. Heavy in her early years of life, Linda had eventually gotten so big, nearly four-hundred pounds, that she had gone on to have weight-loss surgery.

Now she was less than a shadow of her former self.

Shortly after surgery, for some reason or another, all of Linda's hair had fallen out, leaving her with patches of hair here and there. She was now forced to wear wigs, and on any given day, they might have looked like something you would scare children with.

Today she had on one such wig, hanging halfway lopsided off her head.

"Girl, what you crying for?" Linda asked curiously, mashing her gums. Keisha's nostrils were immediately assaulted by the smell of liquor and cigarette smoke.

Some things never change.

"Momma said that you hadn't been answering the phone," Keisha cried, her body shaking like a leaf. "When I saw the police and the yellow tape I thought something awful had happened to you.

Linda waved a dismissive hand, making a sour face. "Girl, them niggas know not to fuck with me." She glanced over Keisha's shoulder to the police in the street. "You remember Porscha Waters? The burnt, crispy, nappy-headed hoe that lived on Fifth Street?" Her aunt was forever calling someone dark-skinned when she was the shade of dark tar herself.

Keisha thought for a moment, before her memory was jogged. "Yeah."

"Well that's her boyfriend, dead out there in the street with some of his friends." Linda shook her head with disgust. "That boy should have known better than to get involved with that damn girl. Her ass ain't been nothing but trouble since coming out her momma's stankin ass coochie."

"What happened?" Keisha asked, glancing at the street that was covered with cops.

"Don't know for sure," Linda muttered. "But I think it was a drug deal gone bad and poor Walter was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, not knowing that little chickenhead had set him up." She shook her head. "It's a shame too, because that boy had just gotten a scholarship to go to a prestigious college."

Keisha felt a moment of sorrow for a lost life. A mind was always a terrible thing to waste...or in this case, loose unnecessarily. It was a shame how her people could not get it together and stop the senseless violence.

"Girl, get yo ass on up in here," Linda said, breaking her out of reverie, motioning for her to come inside.

Keisha immediately wanted to protest, preferring to get back to her children since she now knew that her Aunt was okay, but she knew how rude it would look if she suddenly left when she hadn't seen her aunt in months.

Her aunt's chronic smoking made her old house smell like a hundred cigarettes. The floorboards creaked as Keisha walked into the dingy living room. The house was neat and orderly, but still had a moldy smell that mixed in with the smoky scent, causing Keisha to become slightly nauseous.

Several of her aunt's puppies came running out the back, jumping on Keisha's legs, barking and carrying on.

"Y'all get y'all motha fucking asses on up out of here!" Linda yelled, kicking at the poor things with her toothpick-like legs.

"Auntie please," Keisha complained, trying unsuccessfully to pet the dogs.

"Nah, girl, un uh," Linda snapped irritably, slapping the dogs upside the head. "These motha fuckas make me sick." The dogs eventually ran off back where they came from, unable to take anymore abuse from the human skeleton.

Shaking her head with disbelief, Keisha quickly walked over and sat on the edge of the worn-out looking couch that looked like it was from the eighteen-hundreds, trying to not make a face.

"You want some juice?" Linda asked, coming to sit down beside her. Keisha wondered why the woman did not have a cigarette in her hands as usual.  A chronic alcoholic, that's all her aunt did, drink and smoke from sun up, sun down.

In fact, Linda was usually stark-raving drunk around this time of day.

Knowing her house was roach infested, Keisha quickly lied, "No, I just had one before I rushed up here."

"Well, well, if it ain't yo most beautiful niece," said a gravelly voice.

In walked Linda's current consort Big Willy with his shirt off, looking for all the world as if he was due any minute. The portly man was dark-skinned with a face that looked like it had been cooking out in the hot sun all day.

"Keisha girl," the man drawled, his breathing labored from being so fat and old, "how you doin?"

Before she could answer, Linda said, "She was doing fine before you come walking yo hungry, gorilla-lookin ass up in here."

"Auntie!" Keisha exclaimed. Her aunt was forever treating Willy like shit, even though he was probably the nicest man she had ever been with. Almost every man Keisha could remember Linda being with, had beat her, cussed her out, and treated her worse than a stray dog.

Her ass should be happy someone want her, looking how she look.

"Girl, please," Linda snorted, "you don't know what I go through with this ugly bastard."

Keisha shook her head. This was one of the reasons why she avoided her auntie's house like the plague. Her aunt was always acting a damn fool for attention. Sometimes the stuff she said could be funny, but it got old quick.

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