Kismet 3

by Raynesha Pittman

Genres: African American Urban; African American; Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Savannah was everything Dre wanted in a woman: beautiful, educated, independent, and classy. On top of that, she was the best lover Dre had ever had. It had to be kismet that brought these two together because karma would have never allowed it. Savannah had made too many negative deposits into karma's bank without any withdrawals to end up with a good man like Dre. Perhaps, karma and kismet were in cahoots.

There was a lot about Savannah that Dre didn't know initially, like her non-nurturing, revenge-seeking, conniving, and unfaithful ways. Nor did Dre know that he had fallen in love with karma's new prey on the eve of her receiving a taste of everything she had dished out. However, there was also a lot about Dre that Savannah didn't know, nor did she take the time to find out. Two facets in particular were his low tolerance for infidelity and zero tolerance for lies! After pushing Dre over the edge multiple times with both, what will she do when he volunteers to jump off?

Release date: May 26, 2020

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

“Open the fucking door, Savannah!”

I couldn’t have been talking to myself, and I doubt the bitch went deaf after asking me to identify who I was as I knocked. The door never opened once I told Savannah that it was me, nor did I get a response from the other side of it. All I heard in return was my heavy panting from the workout I was getting from trying to get in that room.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I kicked the door twice flat-footed with my back turned to it like a donkey, hoping to get a response. The sole of my booted foot stung and caused my toes to tingle from the impact of both kicks. The act backfired and left me irritated from the self-induced pain. I turned to face the door again, grabbed the doorknob, and twisted it as if it would magically unlock. But who was I kidding? I knew before I touched the knob it wouldn’t open. It just felt like the right thing to do next.

The word “mad” didn’t do any justice or come close to describing how I was feeling at that point. I was infuriated and seeing red. My foot was throbbing, my body was trembling uncontrollably, and my heartbeat sped up with more bass and depth to it than I had ever felt. The power in its beats made my pulse feel like it was on the verge of bursting every blood vessel in my body. An aneurysm was growing, I just knew it, with severe hemorrhaging and my death to follow. I had to take a second to laugh at my exaggerated thoughts. I can’t believe how this chick had me going crazy, but fuck it. It is what it is. My normal rational way of thinking had flown out the window without a sign of returning. The fact that I had no control over being permitted to enter was driving me insane. All I could do now was keep pounding on the door and yelling, hoping she would let me in.

“Savannah, I said open the motherfucking—”

My yell was interrupted by the bell that alerted the elevator’s arrival on the floor. I watched as the doors opened, heard the sound of someone pushing a button rapidly, and then watched the elevator door close without a soul getting on or off of it. I couldn’t tell if it had been a guest or hotel staff from where I stood, but that didn’t matter to me anyway. The unknown passenger or passengers weren’t a big enough distraction to make me forget what I had been doing. Curiosity wasn’t shit when it was up against my fury in the past, and today wasn’t an exception. My focus was beating on the door until I was allowed entrance, and fuck everything and everybody else. I probably should have questioned that elevator’s ghostly arrival and departure, but I was in a trance. My mind wouldn’t allow my body to walk to the elevator and investigate. Getting in that room was my number one priority.

I yelled at the door again. “Open the door, Savannah.”

How could a simple request take this long to play out? The delay in action was causing my body to have physical reactions. Now, my vision was blurry from the heat of my blood flowing through the veins behind my eyes. The dimly lit hallway wasn’t making it any easier on my sight, either. All the color had gone, and I was left with black-and-white static. I looked around the hallway to focus on the sunlight that should be shining through the windows, but there weren’t any windows on this floor. I double-checked my surroundings. I remembered this floor being brighter than this. I was standing in this very same spot less than two weeks ago. I had gotten high and was coating my throat from the weed smoke with a bottle of Rémy. I don’t really remember what happened next. I just remember standing outside this door, ready to terminate that lawyer nigga Savannah was creeping with. I’m sure the lights had been a lot brighter than this.

I shot my eyes up to the ceiling and saw two of the track lights had been broken. I looked down and saw that there were small pieces of glass on the ugly mint-green carpeted floor. It must’ve been the detective in me or my criminal instinct that instantly made me notice that the security cameras were on the other end of the hall. If you got off the elevator with your back to the cameras and came straight to the door, you wouldn’t be identifiable under these broken lights. That would make it easy to commit murder.

Maybe someone else wanted Royce’s head as much as I did, or maybe Savannah had shown her face too many times around here, and the plot was to get her. I had to shake my head to clear that last thought from forming. I couldn’t get caught up being Savannah’s protector right now. She was fucking me over and wasn’t opening up the door. I turned my focus to my rapidly numbing hands. I had to make myself remember that it was because of Savannah’s creeping that my hands were swollen like I’d eaten too much salt. It was hard to make my hands out clearly because of the lights and my vision, but the tingling sensation in my knuckles gave away their condition. They were fucked-up. Both hands were busted and swollen. I didn’t think I had knocked on the door that hard, but then again, I didn’t care. I tried to ball my hands into fists and open and close them to revive the feeling in them, but anger was easing the pain and forcing my hands to feel numb. I balled my fists one more time out of frustration, cocked back, and hit the door with everything left in me.

“Fuck,” I screamed out in agonizing pain as a single tear made its way to the inner corner of my left eye. “Savannah, are you gon’ open the door and let me in, or do I need to make my own key?”

I took my nine out of its leather holster, cocked it back, then I aimed at the electronic keypad on the door. My hands couldn’t take anymore. I was tired of knocking and even more tired of playing these ho/snitch games with Savannah and her mama. I waited a few seconds more to give her an opportunity to respond, but she never did. That’s when the reality of it all hit me. I had really changed. The old Dre—that wild, not-giving-a-fuck-ass nigga that I used to be—wouldn’t have waited for a response. I would’ve shot the lock off the door by now, booted the motherfucka in, and said fuck being permitted, but luckily for Savannah, that side of me is in a coma now. It was knocked out by growth and the many nights I spent praying for change while I was in jail.

I had grown, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more growing to do. All it meant was that I had learned to make force my last option instead of my first choice. I wouldn’t let this shit have me sitting behind bars—Hell naw. I wasn’t going to be behind bars over a bitch ever again. My baby mama Tasha had taught me a lesson in loyalty that I’d never forget. She turned key witness for the DA against me. That’s an experience I never want to go through again, so growth from my last mistakes made me wait another twenty seconds. Hell, I even knocked three more times with my gun-free hand just to show off my newly found patience.

Finally, Savannah’s voice rang out again. This time, the confidence she originally had in her voice was gone.

“Hold on, Dre, I’m about to open it, baby, I swear.”

Her swear bounced like a check from a closed banking account because two minutes later, I was still standing on the hallway side of the door. There was nothing but the hotel’s surveillance cameras keeping me from making my way in. Since I had already checked out my scenery and noticed the lights were as dim as they were, the cameras were becoming less of an issue. I was feeling tested. I felt like Savannah and her mama knew I wasn’t going to come through the door without them opening it first. They both knew I needed to keep my distance from the law and that my freedom depended on me doing just that. Shooting down the door would cause the workers at the front desk to call the police. And even if I managed to get in the room and handle mine, I’d still have to allow myself time to snatch up the videotapes from security before making a run for it. All these thoughts started to overthrow my better judgment and join forces in attacking my ego. My manhood was on the line, but so was my freedom. That “I don’t give a fuck” gene lying dormant inside of me had awakened from its coma and began provoking me to get in that room and handle mine the way I used to.

Ay, Dre, she probably in there sucking that fool up right now while you stand outside the door begging to get in like a little bitch. You’re trying to get in the room and ain’t nobody letting you in, not even her mama, and she supposedly on your side. That’s why Savannah doesn’t respect you now because you’re always doing shit the soft way. What’cha do, my nigga, give up your boxers for a thong while you were locked up? Man, you better teach that ho of yours some manners, then turn that nigga into shark food, and if her mama jumped ship and is back on Savannah’s side, give her ass an expiration date. Fuck yo’ changes.

My thoughts were on point, but I couldn’t allow them to get the best of me. I walked backward away from the door until my back was against the smooth surface of the off-white wall across from the room. I closed my eyes and tapped my gun on my leg to a tic-toc beat as I fought with my thoughts. Even though my blue jeans were a loose fit, I could still feel the strength in the metal as if my legs were bare. I had the power I needed to get in that room in my hand. I could also use it to gain the respect I was lacking from Savannah, but that would be taking the easy way out.

Like my pops had once told me, “Real respect is earned over time, not taken by force within seconds, son. Respect and fear are not the same things, Andre. You better learn that soon or die by the hands of those you thought respected you.”

My father’s words replayed in my head like a song on repeat. They were repetitive, and the exact warning I needed to remind me of my change. Mental pictures of me spending time with my kids as my father had once done with me began to play in my head like a slideshow. It was a fact that both of my kids’ mamas were trifling, and I refused to let my ego-driven actions stop me from raising them. My seeds needed to be nurtured, and if their mamas weren’t up for the job, I’d handle it myself. The slideshow I was watching of me being the perfect father to my children stopped abruptly as my inner demons gave it another go.

Think about it, Dre. Even if Savannah was in there fucking that lawyer nigga, five minutes was more than enough time to dress and answer the door. They’re probably looking at you through the peephole in the door and laughing at your weak ass. I never thought I’d see the day that a goon like Dre turned bitch. You might as well go home if you ain’t gon’ try to get in that room, you pussy.

That was it. I was getting more upset by the second, and it was getting harder to keep my shit at bay. My father’s teachings had faded out of my mind like they always did. My rebellion from him that started at the age of sixteen always sent me down the wrong path. I tried to convince myself that nothing was going on in that hotel room except for a mother blackmailing her daughter for money, which I was an accomplice to because a broke Savannah meant a dependent woman, or so I’m hoping, but that didn’t help. I tried telling myself over and over again that Savannah’s mama was in the room with them, and she was my ally on foreign soil.

Peaches was a general in my army now, and she would remain that way until she got her pay for services rendered. But if I were wrong, and she was in there double-crossing me, I’d make sure to ship her ass back to Kingston in a wooden box, toe-tagged up. Anger surged through me like electricity at the thought of it and caused me to aim my gun at the door again.

“Don’t make me shoot this muthafuckin’ door down, Savannah.”

That was my last warning yell. Savannah’s time was up. My thoughts had won. It was time to pull the trigger. I tightened my hand around the handle for a better grip of the gun, took two steps back, placed my index finger on the trigger... and squeezed.

Instantly, the door flew open, but the bullet wasn’t the cause of it. Peaches was. If I hadn’t been so anxious to shoot, I would have remembered the safety was on, and Peaches would be dead. She was standing in the door’s landing, smiling from ear to ear like she just hit the lotto with no knowledge of how close she was to death. My finger was still wrapped around the trigger, and my adrenaline was still pumping from the murder I had almost committed. I couldn’t return the smile she gave me. I was on edge and had yet to find out what the delay was in letting me into the room. My gun was in hand and ready to spit fire if anybody in that bitch made a false move. I wouldn’t forget the safety twice.

“Hey, future son-in-law of mines. I’m so happy to see you.” Peaches’s arms went spread eagle as she moved in for a hug. Once she made eye contact with my pistol, she froze in her stance. “Put that thing away, Dre. This ain’t hunting season, and there ain’t no animals indoors. Everything is fine, you crazy boy.” She turned her head to face Royce after saying her last words and shook her head. If she were trying to put fear in his heart, she had achieved her goal.

Royce looked sick with fear. He was nervous and fidgeting. I decided to keep most of my attention on him because I learned a long time ago that a scared person would kill you. I wasn’t up for being a scared nigga’s victim. When our eyes met, Royce swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple sank into his throat and popped back out with the loudest gulping sound I had ever heard. If it weren’t for the lack of smell, I’d bet money dude shitted on his self.

Royce’s fear of me was well-deserved because looking at the clown from head to toe made me want to shoot him for doing his circus act with Savannah. Dude was a joke. I could tell by his dumb facial expressions. I almost flinched at him just to see if it would send him into cardiac arrest. I can’t believe my bitch had pleasured this ho of a man. To keep me from putting my gun up and beating his face in, I searched for meaning in Peaches’s empty words. She had said something about being my mother-in-law and rambled on about some other shit I wasn’t listening to. She was trying to talk in code, but I read between the lines. The smile she greeted me with and her words were confirmation that our plan had worked. Savannah had given up her last dime for a shot at forever with me. She had chosen her love for me over money. Miss Independent well paid professional who prides herself on what she’s accomplished on her own, put me over her banking account.

I can’t lie. I was feeling good inside at the thought that Savannah did truly love me, but Peaches killed it with that “in-law” shit. She could have left that part out. She wasn’t a mother-in-law of mine. How could she be when she wasn’t even a mother to her only daughter, Savannah? She abandoned her children to live the life that was best for her and never looked back. Peaches wasn’t a mother. She’s a snake bitch that slithers on two feet instead of on her stomach that I decided to do business with. That coldhearted old ho didn’t love anything except dead presidents printed on green trees, and her extortion and blackmailing of her daughter proved it.

When Peaches found out that Savannah was back spreading her thighs for every Tom, Dick, and Royce, she tried to sell me the information. But I wasn’t about to pay for it because I already had it. LoJack had put me up on the game for free. I tracked Savannah’s car to hotels when she told me she was headed somewhere else, so I already knew she was back passing out my goodies like Halloween candy. Her fight with ovarian cancer, that chick Keisha shooting her, then beating her ass for seeking revenge over childhood shit, and all the love I was showing her hadn’t taught Savannah a damn thing. She was too comfortable with getting her sewers piped by multiple plumbers.

There was a time when I used to feel fucked up about looking at my woman as a ho, because if she was a ho, what would that make me? But it’s the truth, and I got to call it as I see it. This wasn’t the first time I’d stood outside of a hotel room that was occupied by my future Mrs. This is just the first time she’s known I was there. I’ve had to fall all out of character to make this shit work between Savannah and me. I’ve acted like a police K9 just to see what Savannah was up to and got fed up with my role as a bloodhound. I would park my truck blocks away to hide behind parked cars to see what my bitch was doing. I wasn’t about to wait for the truth when I could go out and get it. That’s how I found out her mama was doing the same. I had Savannah’s car tracked, so I knew which way she was headed, and I’d beat her there. Once I got there, Savannah would pull up, and so did a black Benz. It followed Savannah’s Cadillac like a funeral procession. No matter which direction Savannah traveled in, that black Benz was always a car or two behind her.

I had originally planned on busting Savannah in the act of cheating, but I had a bigger job to do now, and that was to protect her from harm. She was still mine, and as her man, I had a duty to protect her. Savannah had done some unbelievable shit to folks in California, which gave them enough motivation to get revenge. Everybody involved in that Cali mess didn’t get a life sentence behind bars, and the way California was going broke, they didn’t have the funds to keep people in jail longer than they had to. Folks were getting released for good behavior left and right, especially first timers. I didn’t want to tell Savannah this. I just decided to be an extra pair of eyes and ears and make the necessary moves to keep her protected. A car following her everywhere she went smelled like trouble to me, so I jumped on it. I got with Savannah’s homeboy, Will, who’s a Los Angeles county sheriff, to make sure none of the people she got revenge on were released. Once he confirmed they were still a part of the county jail’s population or waiting on their prison stays, I decided to make. . .