Judgment Day

by Anya Nicole

Genres: African American; African American Urban

Synopsis

You can't trust anyone—not even your best friend. Brandon and Chris are back, and their one-time brotherly friendship is now a thing of the past. On the run for attempted murder, Chris is a man on a mission, and Brandon is his intended target. Chris will do anything to survive in the streets and get even with Brandon. Along his deadly quest for revenge, he unexpectedly faces his past and realizes what being a man is truly about. But will it be too late? Brandon, now a married man, is still up to his old tricks. He loves women and money; it's just that simple. But when he realizes that his wife, Mia, has a few tricks of her own, he soon discovers that she isn't the person she made herself out to be. He sets out to find out who the real Mia is, and learns she's a woman who'll stop at nothing to seek revenge for his cheating ways. Will Chris and Brandon resolve their differences, or will each man pay on judgment day?

Release date: April 1, 2014

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Brandon’s eyes slowly fluttered open and closed as he tried to adjust himself to the glaring florescent lights shining in his face. Realizing he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home, his eyes frantically scanned the room. What am I doing lying in a hospital bed? And why is Mia boo-hooing so hard?

He looked over to his right and saw Ms. Ruth sitting with her Bible in hand; she too was full of tears. Brandon wanted to get up and find out what was going on. He pushed with all his might to sit up, but he just couldn’t. A sharp, intense pain shot through his right side, forcing him to lay still. He tried to say something, but nothing came out. He opened his eyes wide, trying to gain the attention of either one of the two, to alert them of his consciousness.

Finally, Ms. Ruth looked up and noticed Brandon’s stare. She dropped her Bible to the floor in excitement and grabbed his hand tight. She sighed in relief. “Praise the Lord.”

The thought of Brandon dying at the hand of her only son Chris was a burden she just couldn’t stand to bear. Plus, Brandon was like a son to her; she had practically raised him after his mother died. She’d promised Brandon’s mother that she would always care for him, and she wasn’t about to let her down now.

She smiled as his warm eyes met hers. It was a feeling only a mother could experience, a feeling of joy and pain, the joy of seeing him alive, the pain of having to deal with what was still to come.

Just an hour ago, Ms. Ruth had gotten word that Chris was spotted in their old neighborhood. He was now a fugitive of the law, a wanted man. Part of her wanted to kill Chris herself. She would rather him die by her hand than that of the law. But she was a God-fearing woman who knew that his Day of Judgment would be by the hand of the Lord and His alone.

Noticing Ms. Ruth’s enthusiasm, Mia rushed over to Brandon. Gently pushing Ms. Ruth aside, she threw herself across his limp body, her pregnant belly rubbing up against Brandon’s chest. Mia then grabbed his partially bearded face and kissed him lovingly on the lips. She found herself becoming lost in his deep brown eyes; she missed him so much, she almost forgot how beautiful they were.

It was all coming back to Brandon now: the tussle with Chris at the office and the deafening sound of the gun as it struck him in the stomach. A sharp pain gushed through his right side as he relived the painful moments leading up to being shot by his best friend. Yes, it was he who pulled the gun and threatened to take Chris’s life, but Chris was the one who should have caught a bullet. Chris had raped Brandon’s wife and betrayed their friendship; he deserved to die.

Instead, he was the one who caught the bullet, and if it wasn’t for Mia following him, his life would be over. She was definitely a rider and had proved in so many ways that she loved her man. Mia could have walked away when she’d found out about Lynn and the other baby, but she chose to stick around and make it work.

Brandon wanted to tell Mia he loved her, but every time he tried to open his mouth, nothing came out but a few short grunts. He pulled the IV out of his arm in frustration, but the nurse was quickly at his side to reinsert it.

“Glad to see you’re awake.” The nurse smiled, walking into the hospital room, overcrowded with all sorts of floral arrangements and fruit baskets.

There was barely enough room for Brandon, let alone Mia and Ms. Ruth. Not a day went by that Brandon didn’t receive a get-well gesture from somebody. He was a well-liked man among the ladies.

The nurse continued over to the bed and took his temperature, which was regular. She then pulled out her stethoscope and proceeded to check his heartbeat and respiratory rates, which were also normal.

“Mr. Brunson, if you can hear me, blink your eyes two times,” the nurse said, carefully placing the tube back into his arm.

Brandon blinked his eyes twice in confirmation. His grunts became louder as she pressed the tube firmly back into his flesh. He tried to push her away, but his body gave way in weakness. This has to be a dream, a nightmare, he thought. There was no way he was laying in a hospital on his deathbed. As a matter of fact he hated hospitals; one had killed his mother.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse said, making sure the IV was securely in place. She turned to Mia. “Please keep an eye on him. That morphine drip is what’s easing his pain.” She placed the covers back over Brandon and left the room.

Sitting back down in the seat next to the bed, Ms. Ruth picked her Bible up off the floor, opened it to where she left off, and resumed reading the scriptures. Her prayers had been answered, and even though Brandon was still in bad shape, she had faith that he would make a full recovery.

Mia slowly paced back and forth, nervous about the doctor coming to check on Brandon. The last time he did a full checkup, he’d stated that there was a possibility that Brandon would not recover from his coma. Major complications arose after the surgery to remove the bullet from his abdomen. Brandon was fine at first, but a blood vessel ruptured, causing major hemorrhaging.

Mia’s pacing came to an end as Dr. White entered the room. She took a seat on the bed next to Brandon and braced herself for the news.

Brandon ogled the chiseled-face fair-skinned man as he made his way over to his bedside. He could feel the tension in the room; both Mia and Ms. Ruth wore looks of extreme concern.

Dr. White peered over Brandon’s body in his stainless steel half-rimmed frames and pulled out a pocket light. He flashed it into Brandon’s eyes. He then checked Brandon’s reflexes. There was no response when he hit both of Brandon’s knees with the reflex hammer. He wrote something on his clipboard and continued with the evaluation. He asked Brandon to open his mouth wide and flashed the light inside. He then went back to writing on the clipboard.

After what seemed like hours to Mia and Ms. Ruth, Dr. White was finally finished. He stood by and continued writing on his clipboard as he always did before he addressed the family with the prognosis. He pulled his glasses from his face and placed them in his jacket pocket; he then placed the clipboard under his arm.

Mia’s heart thudded as Dr. White parted his lips to speak. She was now clasping Brandon’s arm with all her strength.

“Ms. Brunson, we’re going to run a few tests and take some blood samples,” Dr. White started. “He may have to learn how to walk and talk again, but he should be fine.” He cracked a half-smile as he proceeded to the door. “The nurses will be in shortly to draw those samples,” he said before walking out.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mia exclaimed.

Mia and Ms. Ruth had been by Brandon’s side faithfully for the last two months. Mia was eight months pregnant and due to have the baby within the next month. Instead of staying on bed rest like her doctor prescribed, she was up every day at the crack of dawn, preparing to spend the day with her husband at the hospital.

She rubbed her hand through Brandon’s untamed mane; his curly hair wisped through her fingers with ease. Mia was so delighted at the thought of having her husband back; she missed him greatly.

Mia had indeed chosen Brandon as her man, but he often carried the thought that he had chosen her, and she often spent most of her days daydreaming about the life they used to live.

Mia had seen Brandon at a professional networking event for young blacks and fell in love with him. She had just signed a million-dollar contract with Elite Modeling Agency and was on her way out of the country for her first photo shoot. He didn’t really know who she was at that point and had seen her a couple of times around town, but that was it.

Even though she was out of the country for months at a time, it didn’t stop her from hiring a private investigator to find out about her mystery man. She wanted to know everything about Brandon, from what kind of friends he kept to his favorite cocktail, and had him followed for several months before she decided to approach him.

When Chris approached her about meeting up with Brandon for the first time, she knew at that moment that she was destined to be with him. She’d already had plans on introducing herself to him, but this made it easier.

Chris had told her that Brandon had inquired about her but hadn’t had the time to make things happen due to him working nonstop on getting the record label off the ground. He’d told her he could provide the right opportunity to make the hookup, if she did a little something for him. All she had to do was give him some pussy, and he would introduce her, with no problem.

Mia would have usually said no to an offer like that, but she knew they were close and that Brandon would trust Chris’s judgment of her. So she hooked up with Chris and gave him the best ride of his life. Chris was so turned out, he was trying to persuade her to date him instead of Brandon, but Mia insisted that he keep his part of the bargain.

Plus, Chris was too hood for her; he had no class. She wanted a man who knew about fine wines and expensive art.

The night she officially met Brandon for the first time was magical. They instantly had a vibe that Mia knew would be unbreakable. Yes, she fucked him on the first date; she just couldn’t resist.

Mia remembered it like it was yesterday. Brandon’s smooth chocolate skin and full, succulent lips lured her in. And his big dick sealed the deal. Although it had been just over a year since they met, she never forgot how good he felt inside of her for the first time. When he’d slid his dark, hardened member inside her, she swore to God she saw heaven. There was no way she was going to allow him to get away from her.

Mia was actually engaged to be married to someone else when she’d met Brandon. But she called it off the next morning, after her first date with Brandon in Atlantic City. She briefly told Brandon about her previous plans to marry, but if he knew that she was engaged when they met, she would have never become Mrs. Brandon Brunson. Mia was thankful for the life she lived. She’d snagged herself a man who knew how to negotiate in the boardroom and fuck the hell out of her in the bedroom.

Mia slid off the bed and made sure not to wake Brandon. She was fighting the urge to wake him up; she wanted to spend every second of the day with him now that he was out of his coma. He had missed so much over the last few months—how much her belly had grown, and the first few times the baby kicked in her stomach. His daughter was ready to come busting out of the womb any day now.

She dug around in her Gucci tote bag for the ultrasound pictures and placed them on his bedside table. She then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Brandon’s eyes opened at the sound of the screeching bathroom door. He noticed Mia was no longer at his side and began to grunt loudly.

“It’s okay,” Ms. Ruth consoled him. “Everything is going to be okay,” she said, patting his arm. She continued to read her Bible.

Brandon wanted to believe what Ms. Ruth was saying, but he knew otherwise. He knew that a long road to recovery was ahead and that his life would no longer be the same. The only brother he knew was no longer considered family.

Six months ago, while Brandon was away making business deals in New York to further their careers, Chris was back home having his way with Brandon’s wife. Brandon trusted Chris to hold things down while he was away and never thought he was capable of something like this. He always knew Chris was a fucked-up dude, but he took it too far, robbing him of his happily-ever-after. He would no longer be the man of substance he was known as, but a coward who allowed some street thug to violate his wife and take his manhood, all in a matter of months.

Brandon vowed at that moment that, if he ever recovered from this ordeal, he wouldn’t make the same mistake as before. He loved Ms. Ruth like his own mother, but that bastard son of hers was in the way of progress and was better off dead than alive.

Brandon sat up in his hospital bed and watched the early morning news. It had been three weeks since he awoke from his coma, and he was coming along very well because of his great physical shape. His speech had already returned in full swing, and he’d been working hard with the physical therapist to fine-tune his mobile skills. Brandon was able to walk with the help of a cane, which was more than enough for him. And with every passing day, he felt more confident about his recovery.

Brandon listened closely as the news began to report a robbery at the Crazy Market, a local store across the street from the projects where he grew up. He grabbed the remote control and turned the volume up as high as it would go. He’d missed most of the report, fumbling with the remote, but he did recognize the face in the surveillance video. He could tell by the long, red braids that extended to the middle of his back.

Brandon sucked his teeth. Chris’s stupidity never seemed to amaze him. Chris was the only nigga in the hood with reddish-brown hair, and Brandon had begged him to cut that shit time and time again, telling him that hair was going to get him in trouble.

He smirked as he reached over to the table beside him, picked up the phone, and started dialing.

“Hello. Nine-one-one,” an operator answered after the second ring.

“Yes, I want to call in a tip,” Brandon said, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Go ahead,” the operator said, “I’m listening.”

“The guy who robbed the Crazy Market name is Chris Black,” he blurted out, giving his whole government name to the law. “He’s known around the way as Chief.”

Brandon quickly placed the receiver back on the cradle, making sure not to give the operator the time to ask him any more questions. He moved his bed to its original position and gloated, amused with himself.

Chris must be real desperate, sticking up corner stores, Brandon thought.

Chris had money; a million dollars, to be exact. The problem was, if he tried to cash the check, the cops would scoop his ass up. Brandon had been checking his account on a daily basis just to make sure it was still there. He knew Chris would rather chalk that mil up as a loss and make his money back on the street than to risk getting locked up.

Brandon was already one step ahead of him. He’d called ahead to Tank and offered him a cool million to take Chris out. If things went the way they were supposed to, he’d be gone by the end of next week. Chris was living on borrowed time, and Brandon was loving every minute of it.

He looked over at the clock on his bedside table; it was almost time for his workout with the physical therapist. He closed his eyes and tried to relax.

Just as he was nodding off, Amy, his physical therapist, appeared in the doorway. She knocked lightly before entering the room.

Brandon opened his eyes and waved for her to come in. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and leaned against it in a seductive manner. She smiled deviously as she pulled her lab coat open and revealed her tanned, naked body, her plump breasts standing at attention, her phat pussy neatly trimmed, like a landing strip. Brandon’s wood hardened at the thought of landing his plane right in between her thighs.

“Are you ready for your workout?” she said, dropping her coat to the floor.

Brandon looked at her well-sculpted body and licked his lips; he was definitely ready to get worked over. He enjoyed his sessions with Amy. They’d been going at it strong for the past two weeks. He’d even requested a room at the end of the corridor for extra privacy, explaining to the staff that the room he previously stayed in was too noisy and gave him headaches.

He knew it was only a m. . .