Renee 3

by Brandie Davis

Genres: Urban Fantasy; Christian Romance; Christian Suspense

Synopsis

Carmen has gotten her wish. Renee is no longer queen. Being stripped of her title and the power that comes
with it, Renee must start from scratch and rebuild what she once controlled.
Having turned their backs on one another, Renee’s once strong circle is now dismantled, and each individual is
after what ripped them apart from Carmen. Carmen’s making it hard for them to capture her and doing whatever she
must to survive. Renee wants revenge along with everyone else, but will she achieve it, or will she die in battle without
the help of Julian and Dane?

Release date: July 28, 2020

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Naked trees and cracked concrete under a shivering cold bed of snow dressed New York in misery. The rope of lights swirling around the Christmas tree reflected off the window Renee peered out of. Her view was limited, but she didn’t need to see far and wide to know that on the night of Christmas Eve, people around the world were reveling in the holiday spirit. As her eyes roamed the beautifully lit homes stationed on Long Island, tears descended from the corners of her eyes. There were so many houses, yet none of them in her sight contained Julian. And because reality had set in on a holiday filled with joy, her heart ached and her world crumbled.

“Renee, come open your gift.” The rainbow lights decorating the living room bounced off Dane’s black shades. Behind their lenses, turmoil plagued her soul and sucked her dry. Life lost its meaning when her baby sister Reagan was murdered, an innocent pawn used in Carmen’s game. Still, she displayed a calm exterior intended to soothe both her husband and her best friend. She was tired of the constant sympathy thrown her way, so in the presence of others, she played the role of a magician and created the illusion that all was well. However, it was only behind the shades that she could pretend. Without their barricade, her cover was blown and her emotions were exposed.

“Just leave it under the tree,” Renee mumbled.

“Renee, come open your gift. We have every other day of the year to be depressed, so let’s not make today one of them.”

It was shocking to hear Metro’s voice. He hadn’t uttered a word to Renee since she left Julian and Manhattan. Part of her wondered if she’d disappointed him too, if he too blamed her for Reagan’s death like she knew in her heart Dane had. If it weren’t for Renee bringing Carmen into their world, Reagan would still be alive, and their circle still intact. A rainforest of tears flooded Renee’s cheeks. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to remain where she stood and not move an inch, but she no longer had the luxury and flexibility to be disobedient and hardheaded—not without consequences. Dane and Metro were all she had left, and if she drove them away, life would officially be over.

With the back of her hand, Renee erased her tears. She did as she was told. She sat Indian-style on the floor in front of the couple. Dane held a small, neatly wrapped silver box in her outstretched hand. After what felt like hours of admiring the box, Renee finally accepted it. It was extremely light and made her question its contents. She opened it and was puzzled to find merely a folded piece of paper in the center of its four walls. She immediately began to unfold the note. There was an address written in black ink.

“What is this?” Renee turned the paper over, searching for a clue.

“It’s Julian’s address,” Dane confessed.

Renee’s entire body became numb, and a vivid memory of her standing in her Manhattan living room, listening to Tina’s phone recording, dominated her thoughts and pushed her back into the past.

“Renee!”

Dane’s call snatched Renee out of her thoughts. She stared at Dane with wide eyes, her face smothered with shock. As if Dane had suddenly become a stranger, Renee questioned whether she was friend or foe. The vacant look in Renee’s eyes confirmed the emptiness and hollow feeling in the pit of her heart.

Dane waited for Renee’s breathing to stabilize and her eyes to lower. For a while, they all sat, waiting for a verbal response. Instead, Renee sat on the carpet, rubbing the paper. That address stirred up so many emotions. Her stomach grew angry, and her vision started to cloud. What was she supposed to do with that address? Run into his arms and forget all about the past? Or was she supposed to turn that house into a box of ashes like she had her uncle Lyfe’s, who choose Carmen over her?

She trapped the paper in the palm of her hand and allowed her fingers to act as its prison bars. Renee came to her feet and headed right back over to the window. She looked across the street at her neighbor’s home. Their brick house was dipped in lights, but the glow and twinkle it gave off emulated love. That house was the perfect home. It was where children grew up and parents grew old. It was predictable and normal. It was safe.

Lost in its appearance, she created a family of her own. She imagined herself with Julian in the master bedroom, buried under the covers while play fighting and sharing multiple laughs, their children scattered around the house without a care in the world, enjoying the newest electronics to hit the market. Life was good. It replaced all that she had ever known and wished to forget. Yet, while she was active in a place of make-believe, her hand had crushed the address, and the paper scraped against her skin. The feeling of that white piece of paper stabbing into her whispered to Renee that that was not her home. And no matter how many times she wished upon a star and created a new life in her head, her current situation would remain and never just disappear into thin air.

She released the paper from her grasp and let go of her hopes and dreams.

“I don’t know why you’re showing me this, or what you intend for this to change, but that page of my life”—she pointed to the crumpled piece of paper on the floor—“is dead to me.”

She gave the house across the street one last look and said her goodbyes. She forced her fragile frame to move. Weeks of stress ate away at her body and transformed the queen of New York into a weak-looking has-been. It was only a matter of time until her mental state plummeted into a state of oblivion and turned her into the boogeyman who came out in the day and terrorized anyone who got in her way. She looked at Dane, the Christmas tree’s lights coloring her face red and green.

“Fuck with him if you want to, but don’t expect me to help clean up whatever mess that traitor gets you into.”

Renee prepared to make her exit. This was not a conversation she was willing to have. Dane intervening in her personal life irritated her. All she wanted was to be left alone while she dealt with the loss of her love in her own way, in her own time.

“Do nothing and you’re dethroned,” Metro warned.

Renee turned around, her head shaking and shoulders rising, all while giving a smirk.

“Life doesn’t work that way for you anymore. You gave up your voice when you handed your business over to me.” Renee pointed at Metro then at herself. She could feel the frustration creeping farther up her spine, and still, she stood firm, blocking any additional emotion trying to seep through.

“My connect, my army, my empire, my call!” Metro reminded her.

“Then it will be your demise,” Renee spewed. Time slowed, and the air thickened. Giving up her power could never happen. So much had been stolen from her up until this time, and now Metro was threatening her? The building blocks that once held up a strong friendship at that second collapsed and caused dust so heavy to rise, no one could see clearly. Metro’s finger inched its way into her face.

“Threats mean nothing coming from a has-been. Take what you brought to the table and leave!” Metro demanded.

“Go to hell!” Renee’s hand flew up and smacked Metro’s antagonizing finger out of her face. However, the action was answered with Metro’s heavy hand meeting her right cheek.

Renee’s small frame landed against her coffee table, her arm acting as a cushion an instant before hitting her head against the wood. Ringing ears and blurred vision temporarily tapped her out of the fight and left her disabled. Wide-eyed, she forced herself to focus, and that was when her hand opened the small side drawer built inside the table. It was one of the many homes where her firearms resided inside of her living room. Renee pointed her gun at Metro. It exploded, one time, two times, and finally three.

No one spoke a word. They all listened to the mechanical sounds of Santa moving around in his sleigh and Rudolph taking flight from the neighbor’s roof. The decorations’ movements pounded inside Metro’s ears while he lay on the floor, his hand fighting to push the blood back into his body.

“I’m not stepping down,” Renee growled. Her eyes twitched, and her conscience pushed her to shoot again, instructing her to hit his heart instead of the shoulder now soaked in blood. “I’m not stepping down,” she repeated with her finger pressing down on the trigger when she blacked out.

One leg hung beneath the porch swing’s blanket, swinging back and forth. Snow falling from the sky touched down on Long Island’s soul. Vodka and cranberry parted Renee’s lips, a faint chuckle escaping her voice box before swallowing the liquid.

“They think I’m out,” she mumbled. “They think I’m really out.” Renee chuckled. Her laughter was uneven, uncomfortable, and on edge. “Tried to mourn a fuckin’ breakup before I go on a murdering spree, and I get treated like a sack of shit.” Renee’s lips curled. “I always planned on burying that bitch Carmen for fucking Julian and killing Dane’s sister. I just needed some time to heal. Now a whole bunch of new shit is in play.” She pushed out cold air. “Now everything has to change, everything and anything. I’ll make sure of that.”

The knot on the back of Renee’s head bulged out, the pulsating pain increasing with every individual chuckle. She tried to ignore the migraine it gave birth to and tough it out, but she knew eventually she’d need to use the ice pack and aspirin sitting beside her. Laughing some more after thinking about being caught off guard and hit by Dane, Renee finished her drink and poured herself a glass of vodka. Unscrewing the top of the bottle of aspirin, she swallowed a pill. The glass of poison followed behind the painkillers just moments before she snatched the ice pack from its seat and placed it on her head. The contact between her head and the ice was painful.

Renee took a deep breath and closed her eyes. This can’t be happening. Her relationship with Dane and Metro was deteriorating, if not already dead. Hard changes were taking place with the two who were more like family than those who shared her DNA. However, the one thing that poked at her the most and ignited her anger was her inability to decipher which was worse— Metro taking away a life of power he’d given her, all while being fully aware she had been stripped of her body and respect as a child, or Dane’s failure to intervene.

Renee didn’t know how long she was out for after being hit, but she vaguely remembered a comment made by Metro before he made his exit: “She’s a liability, but only because she’s family will I keep her alive and force her to learn.” The snow increased its speed. The railings of her porch were now covered in white. The sweatsuit Renee wore and the blanket covering her legs barely did anything to protect her from the cold, but the heat brewing inside her made the weather bearable. Renee took the ice pack off her head. She had officially hit rock bottom. Only hours after her confrontation with Dane and Metro, the majority of her resources had already jumped ship. Renee had told herself that Metro no longer had the power to dictate her career, but now she realized that since he vouched for her, handed her everything, and had history with everyone he had introduced to her, he could decide such circumstances. She had lost family, love, and now her friends. All she had left was herself.

Renee’s leg shook as her eyes welled with tears. Opening them, she opened the floodgates and relieved her hurt. She had sat on that swing for hours, trying to make sense of the night’s events and convince herself that being dethroned was for the best. But everything she told herself in order to feel better didn’t stick. It only went in one ear and out the other. No matter how much she tried to find peace in the situation, she knew she never would without getting them back. None of the allies she gained through Dane and Metro responded to her texts or phone calls. It looked like her well had gone dry and her road had come to an end.

The sound of snow crushing beneath tires grabbed Renee’s attention. Her neighbors were home from what looked like a night of last-minute shopping. Mrs. Gibson stepped out of the car with two bags in her hands. Climbing out the car, her husband grabbed a few bags from the back seat, then took the bags his wife held. Renee stood from her swing, her boots kicking the blanket to the side, leaving only her sweatsuit to keep her warm. Walking as close as she could to the front of her home, her hands fell on the porch railing and sank into the snow. Looking at the couple, she thought of the love she was denied the instant she found out he had shared himself with another. Mrs. Gibson opened the door to their home, their children screaming with excitement at their arrival.

It was Mrs. Gibson who saw her first. She was closing the door with one of the children hanging off her when she noticed Renee leering her way. Thrilled to have a new neighbor she hoped to call a friend in the near future, she waved enthusiastically like a big kid.

“Hi, Renee! How are you?”

Happiness, openness, and a zest for life oozed from her voice. There was never a time Renee could recall her not being positive. What different worlds they lived in. Renee threw her hand up, giving only a weak hello. Happy to have gotten that much from her neighbor, Mrs. Gibson continued to speak.

“Maybe we can do lunch soon!”

Renee just stared, feeling like a circle trying to fit into a square, uncomfortable and out of place. Alone with no man and no power, Renee no longer wanted peace but to blow off steam by finishing what everyone else had started. When there was nothing left to lose, you lost your mind.

“Renee, are you okay? Do you need me to come over there?”

Mrs. Gibson’s loud, agitating voice brought to Renee’s attention that she hadn’t responded. “Yes, I’m okay!” Renee replied.

“So what do you say? We should have lunch soon, maybe head into the city somewhere?” Mrs. Gibson prayed Renee would say yes. In her opinion, Long Island was boring, and making a new friend was exactly what she needed.

Renee replayed in her head the question she was asked. It had been a long time since she had been out in the open just because, and that was when it hit her. If she wanted revenge, she couldn’t be Jordan and use Metro’s connections. “Take what you brought to the table and leave.” Metro’s words echoed through her head. Renee smiled and nodded her head. Forcing out a half-decent, friendly tone, she shouted, “I would love that, Prue. Just tell me when!” Goodbye, Jordan. Hello, Renee. It’s time for you to flaunt your power.

“You got this place together quick.”

Standing in the middle of Carmen’s new living room, her mother, Raquel, took in the drastic transformation performed within only a few weeks. The once-dull and spacious apartment was now spruced up with spring colors and edgy furniture. Each item meshed together nicely, all while taking on a life of its own. The decor screamed, “Carmen,” but the numbers her new place represented didn’t.

“I can’t take all the credit. My interior designer did lend a hand.”

Scanning every corner and floor panel, Carmen smiled with pride. If there was one thing she loved, it was spending money and starting fresh. Her budget was no longer what it had been. She was limited nowadays, being that she no longer had anyone to care for her financially. The money she had received in the past from her uncle Lyfe and her deceased ex, Benz, was put away.

“You did good. I always said you got your good taste from your father.”

Raquel continued to admire the decor while Carmen fell back into a time when she learned about her father’s second life. Raquel’s mention of her father automatically made Carmen think of Renee and her escape from New York. She now felt like a wounded animal being hunted.

“So, what’s next?”

Raquel sits down on couch with a glass of wine. Carmen took a seat beside her mother and forced the thoughts of her father and sister out of her personal space.

“I was thinking of getting some artwork. The walls are looking kinda plain,” Carmen replied.

“I’m not talking about the apartment, Carmen. I’m referring to you. What are you going to do next? You spent your entire time here decorating this apartment. I know you didn’t come back home to play designer, and I know you’re running out of men to take care of you.” Her eyes glanced over her youngest child’s new outfit.

Baffled by her empty hand, Carmen stood up to retrieve a replacement. With her back turned to her mother, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Raquel’s interrogation made it difficult for her to pour her wine without wasting it.

“I’ve only been here for a few weeks, Ma. Can I get myself settled before conquering the big things?”

“Carmen, why are you here?”

“You know why I’m here. I’m trying to better myself, and in order for me to do so, I need to be in my comfort zone. I need to be h. . .