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Synopsis
Brick City's sexiest divas are back, stirring up trouble from Jersey and Atlanta to Jamaica. But wherever they are, they're ready to put loyalty to the ultimate test, push boundaries to the edge, and risk it all for love--if they can survive. . . Jayde may look more super model than drug lord, but make no mistake, the daughter of a gangster legend, she'll go to any lengths to get whatever--and whoever--she wants. She's got the will, the connections, and an international drug money pyramid too tempting to resist. . . From loss and lockdown, and back to love, Tatum has been through it all for her man, Respect. Now Ree's back on top and they're engaged. But will Jayde's shady ways finally break them for good?. . .Sasha's got deadly secrets she'll take to her grave, but she's finally getting her life together with her man Chauncey. Except he's MIA more and more--and she's sure Jayde's got something to do with it. . ..Now these ladies will have to hold on tight to make sure love doesn't turn to hate, if they want to stay thicker than water. . .
Release date: October 1, 2015
Publisher: Dafina
Print pages: 320
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Thicker Than Water 3
Takerra Allen
Nine months later
“All rise fah Judge Mah-jorie! She gon’ entah tha courtrum . . .”
Tatum took the deepest breath and stood slowly on shaky knees.
“Da recess ovah, court resume,” the judge spat sharply, sauntering in.
Tatum’s eyes stayed fixated on the large Jamaican woman as she waddled her way to her old wooden pedestal, which overlooked the courtroom. The motions were as if this woman were the Lord herself and they were all sinners and saints, impatiently waiting to learn their destiny.
“Ya be seated now,” the judge then ordered.
Tatum took her seat again, thinking of the irony. In some sense, that’s exactly what this was like. This woman held the key to the door that would unlock the rest of Tatum’s life. All with whatever words chose to fall from her lips.
Stop it, Tatum . . . this is not about you, she had to remind herself. This is about him. . . .
Shifting her eyes from the judge, Tatum shot them to that beautiful man of hers . . . to Respect . . . who was only a few rows ahead of her on what would be considered the plaintiff’s side of the courtroom. Tatum studied the back of him, which was as mesmerizing as his front. His broad and masculine shoulders, his sexy dreads that he regularly wore pulled back, falling long and begging Tatum to run her fingers through them, the way he filled out his $4,500 Brioni suit so effortlessly, his laid-back demeanor. His swag was inimitable, even as he sat awaiting his fate.
Tatum knew he had to be on edge, there had to be some sense of urgency running through him, but he would and could never show it. She half-smiled at his strength. Yes, it was all about him.
Feeling a set of eyes on her at that very moment, Tatum suddenly darted her gaze. And her. It’s about her, too, she reminded herself as well.
She and Trinity made bold eye contact.
“Mr. Knights . . . Ms. Bell,” the judge addressed Ree and then Trinity, who was forced to wrench her body forward and reluctantly transform her scowl at Tatum to a slight, bashful smile toward Judge Marjorie.
Tatum winced at the way Trinity had carried her aura since the moment this all began; as if she was more important than she actually was. Trinity sat with her long, tree-bark-complexioned legs crossed, hands resting lightly on her knees and her head high. As if she had been Ree’s wife of ten years, instead of his beck-and-call plaything for only one.
“We now have de results of yah pah-ternity test. Ya ready ta ’ear ’em?” Judge Marjorie looked from Trinity to Ree and couldn’t help the twinkle in her eyes as they landed and briefly rested on Respect. She could see why this woman so desperately wanted him to be the father of her child.
Tatum’s stomach flipped repeatedly at the anticipation of the results. All the time she had been thinking of how unprofessional the court procedures in Jamaica had been compared to America, even down to the way they talked. She had been thinking of how hot it was in there, how not one single breeze had crept into the vast place and provided any kind of relief. How, unbelievably, there were no lights, only sunrays creeping through the dirty venetian blinds lightly illuminating the area. How the judge seemed to be so blasé, except for when admiring Ree; the officers seemed annoyed, the whole process just one big shenanigan. But now, she couldn’t think of any of that.
“In the case of Sean Knights Jr. . . .” Tatum fought against the sudden urge to vomit that always surfaced every time she heard the name Trinity chose to name her child.
“Mr. Knights . . .”
Tatum placed her hands together in a prayer fashion and pressed them firmly against her lips. Tears began to rim her eyes for reasons beyond her and the only thing that gave her the slightest sense of calm was Ree briefly turning to her and giving her a reassuring glance followed by a confident wink. One that said a thousand words, words that he had sung to Tatum repeatedly. Don’t worry, there’s no way that’s my child. We always used protection . . . there’s only one woman who was meant to bear my seed.
“Mr. Knights . . . you are ninety-nine . . . point nine percent . . .”
Tatum’s hands began to shake violently and she realized it was coming from within. Her insides were actually trembling. Please . . . please . . .
“. . . the father.”
Silence.
“Ah.” A slight gasp escaped Tatum’s lips and tears fought brutally against her will not to cry. She stared at the judge . . . gawked, watched, waited for her to continue. To say it was a mistake. To say . . . anything.
Tatum lowered her eyes to where Ree sat, a dumbfounded look adorning her pretty face. She watched as he gradually dropped his head in a slightly defeated manner. What could she say to him? What could he possibly say to her?
She didn’t want to, but she had no choice but to look to Trinity who began to yell obnoxiously.
“I told you, Sean! I told you! You only saw S.J. once! You weren’t even there when he was born! You weren’t even . . .” Trinity began to sob uncontrollably, unable to finish her words, and as much as Tatum wanted to be upset about it, she couldn’t. Trinity had every right. She was no longer the hotel clerk that he had fucked in Jamaica while he and Tatum had been separated. She was the mother of his son. She had every . . . right.
“. . . I loved you, Sean! S.J. loves you! He needs his father!” Trinity gobbled a dose of strength and continued her rant in her island-laced, broken English, as Ree seemed to be frozen. Sitting with his hands tented under his chin, deep thought, guilt, and absolute stun written all over him. “I told you!”
Tatum looked up at her and suddenly felt insignificant. As a subconscious reminder, something she didn’t even realize she was doing, she began to twirl her huge engagement ring around her finger.
I’m going to be his wife . . . But I’m going to be his wife.
“Are you happy now?” Trinity questioned, abruptly turning toward Tatum. Still numb from the results, Tatum was shocked by the question, unable to respond. “You happy you kept him from his son? I know you brainwashed him!” Tatum glared at Trinity through slit eyes. Speeding up in her twirling with her tight grip on her rock was the only thing that kept her from losing it. Trinity seemed to suddenly notice the motion.
“Fuck that ring! I have his son!”
Tatum’s natural instincts finally kicked in and she jumped up but suddenly, the two officers who should have intervened in Trinity’s barrage of spewing words way before, finally began to escort Trinity out of the courtroom. Another held his hand out to subdue Tatum.
“C’mon . . . yah gon’ have ta come wit us. Ya got ta go an get out of ’ere,” the guard spoke to Trinity, grabbing hold of her fragile arm. As Tatum watched her be carried away, Trinity was still fixated on Ree and moving her mouth with insignificant words spewing out that Tatum couldn’t possibly hear. She was too zoned.
Suddenly Trinity seemed prettier; her body seemed to fill out her skirt suit more than it had an hour ago, her long black curls seemed bouncier, her face livelier, she seemed more of a threat. Tatum knew it was her mind playing cruel tricks on her.
Still holding on to her blank stare, Tatum slowly sat back down, not ready to walk to Ree yet. Why should she? He should come to her. He should comfort her.
As if in tune with her, Ree calmly rose from his chair and turned, pushing through the small barricade and slowly walking up on Tatum. He still held his same confidence and a demanding aura. But the blow he had just taken had definitely affected him, although it was not visible in his movements.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go.”
He placed his hand gently on her head and Tatum looked up at him in confusion. She wanted more. She wanted him to say more.
Grabbing her small clutch that complemented her beige Ellen Tracy dress, Tatum stood and stepped out in front of him, trying to walk out of the dim courtroom as poised as she had walked in.
They made their way outside to the awaiting Maybach both looking like they’d stepped straight off the runway, but feeling like they’d stepped straight onto the highway. . . and had been hit by a tractor trailer.
“Mr. Knights! Mr. Knights, can we get a pictcha, a pictcha!”
A few local papers asked as soon as they stepped outside, as if this simple paternity hearing had been world news.
“Ya gwan give us a dollah? Please!”
“Me hungry . . . me want a water ice!”
“Me want a water ice, too! A dollah for me, too!”
Some local kids begged, scattered around him and Tatum. Tatum had almost forgotten that in Kingston, Jamaica, they were different. They were royalty.
Ree peeled off several twenties but posed for no pictures as he and Tatum slid into their awaiting ride.
The gust of chill from the blasting air-conditioning greeted them, seeming to provide a temporary relief from the sweltering heat.
“Crush, take us back to the estate, man.”
He gave the order as if the whole ordeal hadn’t taken place.
Tatum’s body tensed.
“But I thought we were going to the plane?” Her voice was weaker than usual, its spunk seeming to be sucked dry out of it.
Ree looked to her and his gaze softened to a sympathetic one, one that said a million apologies. He couldn’t control the circumstances and he knew he’d hypothetically done nothing wrong, but he recognized it had to upset her. Reaching over, he grabbed her hand.
“I know, Tatum. Look, I need you . . . I just need you to go without me. I’ll be right behind you in a few days.”
Tatum didn’t like change. And for some reason, she felt like this was the beginning of a big one.
Tatum and Ree had been through so much to be together: from the death of one of her best friends, Kim; to the murder of her brother; to Ree going on the run from the Feds after her brother snitched on him; and finally them reuniting by fate in Jamaica, despite the fact that he had gotten involved with Trinity and evidently had gotten her pregnant. Tatum couldn’t take any more hurdles and definitely any changes.
She placed her thumb and forefinger on her temples, feeling a headache coming on, and she took a deep breath.
“Okay so . . . why are you right behind me in a few days, Ree?”
She couldn’t hide her irritation if she wanted to.
Ree studied her briefly and then looked ahead, appearing to be choosing his words carefully although Tatum was aware that he knew exactly what he wanted to say. A man like Ree always knew what he wanted to say.
“Look, I gotta go see him, Tatum. You should know that. And I have to figure out how I’m . . . how we are gonna work this shit out.”
He sounded exasperated.
Tatum understood, she really did. But could she help the fact that it sickened her? And for a man who always seemed to be so right, he had one thing majorly, drastically wrong.
“Well then I guess we’ll both go back in a few days. Because I’m staying too.” Tatum would be damned if she left him on this island with his new baby mama.
Ree knew where it was coming from. He had heard Trinity’s slick comments. Had he not been so self-consumed in his sudden shocking reality, he would have responded to them.
“Tatum . . . you know you have nothing to worry about. Nothing,” he repeated with certainty.
“And I thought you had a fitting for your dress tomorrow. You know Sasha’s there waiting for you so you two can do all of that women stuff you’ve been running up the phone bills talking about.”
He tried to add a little humor as he pinched her chin with a chuckle but Tatum didn’t break a smile. She stared him unblinkingly in the eyes.
“Oh, that can wait, Ree . . . the wedding shit can wait. As a matter of fact, the wedding can wait,” she added, turning her gaze to the window glumly so he wouldn’t see the tears if they decided to fall. The beauty of sunny Jamaica as it all whizzed by did little to lift Tatum’s solemn mood.
Ree wasted no time addressing the comment.
“You wanna tell me what that’s supposed to mean?”
Tatum took a deep breath and shrugged, saying words more brave than she actually felt.
“Well, maybe we should . . . just postpone it. Given the circumstances,” she added in a mumble.
Ree stared at her long and hard before replying.
“And what’s that gonna do? Look at me.” He lightly grabbed her face and turned it to him. Tatum reluctantly met his gaze with her own watery and beautiful, big brown doe eyes. He asked it again. “What’s gonna change, Tatum?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Six months from now . . . a year from now, five years from now, it’s still gonna be the same circumstances.”
Tatum hated his rational way of thinking sometimes. It angered her that he was trying to act like there wasn’t a big pink elephant in the Maybach.
“Yeah, the same circumstances but time to think,” she replied. “Think about if I’m even the one you need to be marrying.”
“Are you serious?” he asked her in disbelief.
“Ree, you . . . you didn’t know that S.J. was your baby when you asked me to marry you in that hotel room. You didn’t know that Trinity was telling the truth!” She could feel herself becoming upset and her cheeks becoming hot, the burning from a cry itching in her throat. “I just want you to be truthful with what you feel. I can handle it . . . just don’t leave me in the dark.”
“Tatum . . .”
Ree tried to grab her and pull her close to him, but he could feel her resistance.
“No . . .”
“No? What you mean . . . come here!” She was throwing up a wall at a time when they needed to be connected.
“Are you for real?” Tatum questioned in disbelief. “It’s your baby, Ree!” she screamed suddenly, as if reminding him of the past hour and a half. It felt good to finally get that out.
“I thought there was no way that was your baby?” she whispered with pain all in her voice.
“And I thought you told me you would be fine even if it was,” he calmly reminded.
Ree looked down at her and their faces were inches apart. Tatum studied him, feeling beyond emotional. He was so handsome, so captivating. A thought of him and Trinity conceiving Sean Jr. entered her mind. She had to divert her gaze at the thought.
“Tatum, listen. Who cares if I didn’t know Trinity was carrying my baby. I knew that I wanted to marry you . . . right? Ain’t that the reason I put that ring on your finger?” he asked her as if she already knew the answer.
“If I wanted to marry Trinity, I would’ve put it on hers. Don’t ever question that.”
He then brought his hand up to her flawless brown face and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “A baby won’t change how I feel about her, and it definitely won’t change how I feel about you. I just need to know that what we have is strong enough to get through this.”
Tatum stared up at him.
“I love you, Ree. I really do,” she admitted softly.
“And you know I love you more,” he reminded her before meeting her lips with his. He wouldn’t let her say another word.
When the kiss broke, Tatum realized they were already at the estate. Ree didn’t move though. He continued to stare at her with his piercing brown eyes and then he spoke in his low Jamaican-laced voice.
“C’mon, let’s go inside. I’ll have Rose make us some lunch . . . and we can talk some more if you want.”
Rose was the live-in keeper of the estate who had been taking care of it while Ree and Tatum divided their time between Jamaica and the States.
As Crush walked around and opened the door, the couple stepped out of the car, Tatum first of course, and planted their feet onto their vast property.
“Thanks, Crush,” Tatum spoke as he closed the door behind them. She had grown fond of the big guy who had been Ree’s good friend for many years and recently had turned into their driver and her occasional bodyguard. Ever since he escorted Tatum to the hospital in Atlanta the night Aubrey was poisoned, they had begun to form a bond of friendship built on very few words. She knew he had to be genuine for Ree to trust him the way he did. And his nature reminded Tatum of a giant teddy bear’s.
“Yo, I’ll call you when the jet’s ready and she’s ready to go,” Ree informed him. Tatum remained silent but she found it amusing that Ree still thought she was going back to the States without him. Even if she was confident in her position, which she was, she was not going to just give Trinity any opportunity. She pursed her lips, and as Ree began to walk off, she leaned into Crush and whispered.
“You can get lost ’cause I’m not going anywhere.” He smiled subtly because he had heard some of the discussion and he knew exactly what she meant.
He put his hand to his brow and bid her a farewell in the form of a salute. Tatum returned the gesture.
She began to follow behind her man and Ree stopped and stood at the front door smiling with his eyes as he watched her.
That was the woman meant to be his wife. When she reached him, Ree gently placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her in the large arched door.
“Let’s find Rose,” he spoke once they stepped inside. “What you want to eat?”
“Something with shrimp,” she answered evenly, knowing exactly what she’d been craving. “I guess I’m gonna go call Sasha and change. I’ll be right back.”
Before she could completely strut off, he grabbed her gently by the arm and pulled her into him, kissing her softly on the lips. He then released his grasp and allowed them to part ways.
That kiss set her entire body on fire, but she wouldn’t let him know it. Tatum thought of everything that had just occurred as she made her way up one of the twin spiral staircases.
Reaching the bedroom, she stepped out of her brown-and-beige, zebra-striped pumps and allowed her pedicured feet to sink into the soft fur-like carpet. She found the shoes’ proper resting place in the Prada shoebox and went to grab her flats, but realized she had left them at the condo in Georgia.
“Back and forth, back and forth. I’m starting to forget shit.”
After unclasping her clutch with a sigh, Tatum retrieved her cell phone and dialed Sasha with FaceTime while awaiting the sound and view of her best friend. Finally she answered and Sasha’s cinnamon-toned, sweat-glistened face came into view.
“What are you doing?” Tatum asked with a chuckle, still getting a kick out of being able to see people she spoke to. “Are you on the treadmill?”
Sasha giggled and smiled.
“I just got off. Gotta keep it tight, keep it right!”
Tatum gave a half eye roll and smirked.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“So,” Sasha started excitedly, unable to contain her anxiety. “Tell me the look on that bitch’s face when they read the results!”
Tatum raised her eyebrows coolly and took a seat on her large, soft bed, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“It was ... it was something else.”
Sasha laughed, bugging out.
“Ooh . . . I know it was! Court fees, twenty-five dollars. Paternity test, one hundred fifty dollars. The look on Trinity’s lying-ass face when the results are read . . . priceless!” Sasha laughed, mocking the MasterCard commercial. “Did the bitch look hurt as hell?”
Tatum shrugged and took a deep breath before answering. She began twirling her ring again.
“This bitch did. . . .”
Sasha’s smile gradually faded as she studied Tatum’s relaxed demeanor, now turned solemn. Tatum had behaved too calmly for Sasha to ever assume that it had turned out to be Ree’s baby. She didn’t seem angry. But now, now she could see that Tatum was neither upset nor happy. Tatum was just . . . Tatum.
“But . . . how?” Sasha had to know.
“I don’t know.” Tatum shook her head, truly not knowing what else to say.
Tatum could tell Sasha didn’t want to say it but she reluctantly asked.
“Do you . . . do you think he was . . . lying. About always using protection?”
Tatum glanced up and peered around the doorway to make sure Ree was not coming up the steps.
“Nah . . . I don’t think so. I just . . . I just don’t see him lying to me about something like that. I know that sounds crazy ’cause niggas lie all the time. But I don’t think Ree would.”
Sasha just pressed her lips together and nodded, truly not knowing what to say.
“So,” she started again. “Did you tell him?”
Tatum took a deep breath and looked up again, wanting to be extra careful that he wasn’t around.
“No . . . no, I couldn’t. The timing, after all of that . . . it wasn’t right.”
“The timing is never right, Tay. You gotta tell him.”
“I will. Just not now.”
“Why not?”
“Why?” Tatum snapped.
“It’s just . . .” Sasha paused and then continued. “Whatever, we’ll talk about it at the fitting.”
“Oh yeah . . .” Tatum knew that Sasha was about to be pissed. “. . . about that.”
“What?” Sasha asked, sensing Tatum’s trepidation.
“Look, Sash, I know a fitting with Monique is like . . . impossible. But . . . I’m gonna have to cancel it.”
“Cancel it?” Sasha asked with a raised voice like Tatum had killed her dog. Sasha thought a fitting with Monique Lhuillier was like dinner with Jesus, that’s how much she swore by fashion. She was more shocked by this than the paternity news. “Bitch, are you smoking crack!”
Tatum allowed a chuckle to escape through her melancholy. She had expected this.
“Sasha, have you been listening to me? It’s his baby. I don’t even know if we should go through with all of this.”
Sasha remained quiet but her heavy breathing told a story of its own. She spoke calmly and slowly.
“Tatum. You cannot let this ruin everything. In two weeks you are going to be Mrs. Sean Knights. Nobody else.” She took another breather and then proceeded. “Look, I know you didn’t expect this, neither one of y’all did. But it was always a possibility. And you said you wanted to get married to him regardless. You also said how important it was for you to get married on your parents’ wedding anniversary, even after the paternity test was scheduled and you knew it was a few weeks before. Monique Lhuillier stopped what she was doing, to personally design your dress, and you won’t even go to get fitted for it? What type of person are you?” Sasha asked in shock.
“You know, I always knew you were a cold bitch . . . I knew it,” she added in a slight joking manner, and Tatum couldn’t help but giggle. Her eyes squinted up and she had to laugh out loud, her same goofy, silly, loud laugh.
She looked up midlaugh and she saw Ree now standing in the doorway staring warmly at her as she continued her conversation.
“All right! All right! Fine . . . I’ll see you tomorrow, bitch.”
“All righttt,” Sasha squealed excitedly. “I can’t wait! Now . . . are you gonna tell him?” she added.
Tatum’s smile faded to a faint nervous look as she glanced at Ree and then abruptly cut Sasha off.
“Girl, let me call you back.”
“Tay, listen you better—” End call.
Tatum half-smiled at Ree and then placed her phone on the bed. He walked over and sat next to her and her heart sped up wondering how much he had heard.
“I’m glad you talked to your girl,” he spoke to her. “I’m glad she made you laugh.” He stared at Tatum.
“You know I love seeing you laugh like that.”
Tatum smiled at him realizing he hadn’t caught anything but the end of the conversation.
“So what you gotta tell me?” he added.
Sasha, Tatum thought. Big mouth.
Tatum thought quickly on her feet.
“Um, just that I’m going back tonight. I’m gonna go to the fitting . . . you just can’t cancel on Monique Lhuillier, you know,” she added with a hint of sarcasm, hoping he’d buy it. He wrapped his strong arm around her waist and she knew he had.
“That’s my girl.”
Ree then pulled her to him, turning her face with his hand and leaning in, kissing her deeply on the mouth. Tatum’s whole body trembled when she tasted his tongue. Still. He still did that to her. Breaking the kiss, he stared at her before speaking.
“So . . . I guess this means you still gonna marry me, huh?”
Tatum had to kiss him on those perfect lips once more before she answered.
“Hmm . . . maybe.” Her voice was thick and sultry. “Depending on what happens in the next hour, Mr. Knights.”
Moving closer, she straddled him with ferocity. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. She had just found out that he fathered another woman’s child and all she wanted to do was engage in baby-making acts of her own.
“Damn . . .” Ree grunted, grabbing ahold of her wide hips as her dress rose to the most upper part of her thighs and her legs wrapped around his waist. Ree pulled her closer so she could feel his vast hardness beneath her as he eyed her creaminess. He hadn’t expected this, but he welcomed it as any man would.
He leaned in and ran his tongue along her collarbone.
“Mmm,” Tatum moaned, circling her midsection and subtly grinding on him. She was trying her best to work this Trinity situation out of her mind. Sexing her man and reminding herself that he belonged to only her would be a sure step of progress.
Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, Tatum began reveling at his tattoo-decorated muscular upper body. She traced her fingertips along every design and every ripple in his build. Reaching below, she then ran her hand along his thick shaft through the fabric of his pants. Tatum’s bedroom voice and sexual movements had Ree hard as a baseball bat.
“That’s all you right there,” he assured her in his sexy baritone.
“It’s mine?”
“You know it.”
“I know what to do with it too,” she promised with a lick of her full lips.
“Show me what you know then.”
Tatum couldn’t contain it. The fire inside of her was ablaze and Ree was like her water, she needed him to subside it. Kissing him with fervent passion, she meticulously unbuckled his pants feeling her juices now begin to pour out of her. She was sure that her thin panty barrier was pointless and that she had well leaked onto Ree’s designer slacks. But he didn’t seem to mind as he assisted her, releasing his long, thick tool from his boxers.
Just like a work of art, it didn’t matter how many times Tatum had seen it. Each time left her in awe. She paused her kiss to gaze at it for a moment.
Hello, she thought, eyeing her prize.
Still in a daze, Tatum felt Ree skillfully push her panties to the side as he began to run his fingers across her moist clit. Seeing that she was already dripping wet, Ree wasted no time guiding Tatum down onto his dick with ease.
“Come ’ere, baby . . .” he moaned.
Tatum closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, grabbing ahold of his hair and resting her face on his shoulder in pure pleasure.
“Ree,” she cried out desperately, feeling a gush of liquid instantly release onto him. She was on the brink of tears from the ecstasy she was feeling and the raw emotion of the day’s events combined. It wasn’t long before Ree felt the moisture on his shoulder as he stroked her.
“Why you crying, baby . . . huh? . . . don’t cry,” he urged softly as he thrust deeper into her, sending Tatum into an orgasm. “I love you, Tatum. You’re my queen. . . .”
Ree wrapped his strong, tattooed arms around her and sucked gently on her neck and shoulder before repeating, “You’re my queen, Tatum.”
Tatum’s pussy was like a never-ending faucet, her wetness just continued to pour and release, no halting.
“God damn, you so fucking wet, Tatum.”
Hearing the pleasure in his tone sent . . .
“All rise fah Judge Mah-jorie! She gon’ entah tha courtrum . . .”
Tatum took the deepest breath and stood slowly on shaky knees.
“Da recess ovah, court resume,” the judge spat sharply, sauntering in.
Tatum’s eyes stayed fixated on the large Jamaican woman as she waddled her way to her old wooden pedestal, which overlooked the courtroom. The motions were as if this woman were the Lord herself and they were all sinners and saints, impatiently waiting to learn their destiny.
“Ya be seated now,” the judge then ordered.
Tatum took her seat again, thinking of the irony. In some sense, that’s exactly what this was like. This woman held the key to the door that would unlock the rest of Tatum’s life. All with whatever words chose to fall from her lips.
Stop it, Tatum . . . this is not about you, she had to remind herself. This is about him. . . .
Shifting her eyes from the judge, Tatum shot them to that beautiful man of hers . . . to Respect . . . who was only a few rows ahead of her on what would be considered the plaintiff’s side of the courtroom. Tatum studied the back of him, which was as mesmerizing as his front. His broad and masculine shoulders, his sexy dreads that he regularly wore pulled back, falling long and begging Tatum to run her fingers through them, the way he filled out his $4,500 Brioni suit so effortlessly, his laid-back demeanor. His swag was inimitable, even as he sat awaiting his fate.
Tatum knew he had to be on edge, there had to be some sense of urgency running through him, but he would and could never show it. She half-smiled at his strength. Yes, it was all about him.
Feeling a set of eyes on her at that very moment, Tatum suddenly darted her gaze. And her. It’s about her, too, she reminded herself as well.
She and Trinity made bold eye contact.
“Mr. Knights . . . Ms. Bell,” the judge addressed Ree and then Trinity, who was forced to wrench her body forward and reluctantly transform her scowl at Tatum to a slight, bashful smile toward Judge Marjorie.
Tatum winced at the way Trinity had carried her aura since the moment this all began; as if she was more important than she actually was. Trinity sat with her long, tree-bark-complexioned legs crossed, hands resting lightly on her knees and her head high. As if she had been Ree’s wife of ten years, instead of his beck-and-call plaything for only one.
“We now have de results of yah pah-ternity test. Ya ready ta ’ear ’em?” Judge Marjorie looked from Trinity to Ree and couldn’t help the twinkle in her eyes as they landed and briefly rested on Respect. She could see why this woman so desperately wanted him to be the father of her child.
Tatum’s stomach flipped repeatedly at the anticipation of the results. All the time she had been thinking of how unprofessional the court procedures in Jamaica had been compared to America, even down to the way they talked. She had been thinking of how hot it was in there, how not one single breeze had crept into the vast place and provided any kind of relief. How, unbelievably, there were no lights, only sunrays creeping through the dirty venetian blinds lightly illuminating the area. How the judge seemed to be so blasé, except for when admiring Ree; the officers seemed annoyed, the whole process just one big shenanigan. But now, she couldn’t think of any of that.
“In the case of Sean Knights Jr. . . .” Tatum fought against the sudden urge to vomit that always surfaced every time she heard the name Trinity chose to name her child.
“Mr. Knights . . .”
Tatum placed her hands together in a prayer fashion and pressed them firmly against her lips. Tears began to rim her eyes for reasons beyond her and the only thing that gave her the slightest sense of calm was Ree briefly turning to her and giving her a reassuring glance followed by a confident wink. One that said a thousand words, words that he had sung to Tatum repeatedly. Don’t worry, there’s no way that’s my child. We always used protection . . . there’s only one woman who was meant to bear my seed.
“Mr. Knights . . . you are ninety-nine . . . point nine percent . . .”
Tatum’s hands began to shake violently and she realized it was coming from within. Her insides were actually trembling. Please . . . please . . .
“. . . the father.”
Silence.
“Ah.” A slight gasp escaped Tatum’s lips and tears fought brutally against her will not to cry. She stared at the judge . . . gawked, watched, waited for her to continue. To say it was a mistake. To say . . . anything.
Tatum lowered her eyes to where Ree sat, a dumbfounded look adorning her pretty face. She watched as he gradually dropped his head in a slightly defeated manner. What could she say to him? What could he possibly say to her?
She didn’t want to, but she had no choice but to look to Trinity who began to yell obnoxiously.
“I told you, Sean! I told you! You only saw S.J. once! You weren’t even there when he was born! You weren’t even . . .” Trinity began to sob uncontrollably, unable to finish her words, and as much as Tatum wanted to be upset about it, she couldn’t. Trinity had every right. She was no longer the hotel clerk that he had fucked in Jamaica while he and Tatum had been separated. She was the mother of his son. She had every . . . right.
“. . . I loved you, Sean! S.J. loves you! He needs his father!” Trinity gobbled a dose of strength and continued her rant in her island-laced, broken English, as Ree seemed to be frozen. Sitting with his hands tented under his chin, deep thought, guilt, and absolute stun written all over him. “I told you!”
Tatum looked up at her and suddenly felt insignificant. As a subconscious reminder, something she didn’t even realize she was doing, she began to twirl her huge engagement ring around her finger.
I’m going to be his wife . . . But I’m going to be his wife.
“Are you happy now?” Trinity questioned, abruptly turning toward Tatum. Still numb from the results, Tatum was shocked by the question, unable to respond. “You happy you kept him from his son? I know you brainwashed him!” Tatum glared at Trinity through slit eyes. Speeding up in her twirling with her tight grip on her rock was the only thing that kept her from losing it. Trinity seemed to suddenly notice the motion.
“Fuck that ring! I have his son!”
Tatum’s natural instincts finally kicked in and she jumped up but suddenly, the two officers who should have intervened in Trinity’s barrage of spewing words way before, finally began to escort Trinity out of the courtroom. Another held his hand out to subdue Tatum.
“C’mon . . . yah gon’ have ta come wit us. Ya got ta go an get out of ’ere,” the guard spoke to Trinity, grabbing hold of her fragile arm. As Tatum watched her be carried away, Trinity was still fixated on Ree and moving her mouth with insignificant words spewing out that Tatum couldn’t possibly hear. She was too zoned.
Suddenly Trinity seemed prettier; her body seemed to fill out her skirt suit more than it had an hour ago, her long black curls seemed bouncier, her face livelier, she seemed more of a threat. Tatum knew it was her mind playing cruel tricks on her.
Still holding on to her blank stare, Tatum slowly sat back down, not ready to walk to Ree yet. Why should she? He should come to her. He should comfort her.
As if in tune with her, Ree calmly rose from his chair and turned, pushing through the small barricade and slowly walking up on Tatum. He still held his same confidence and a demanding aura. But the blow he had just taken had definitely affected him, although it was not visible in his movements.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go.”
He placed his hand gently on her head and Tatum looked up at him in confusion. She wanted more. She wanted him to say more.
Grabbing her small clutch that complemented her beige Ellen Tracy dress, Tatum stood and stepped out in front of him, trying to walk out of the dim courtroom as poised as she had walked in.
They made their way outside to the awaiting Maybach both looking like they’d stepped straight off the runway, but feeling like they’d stepped straight onto the highway. . . and had been hit by a tractor trailer.
“Mr. Knights! Mr. Knights, can we get a pictcha, a pictcha!”
A few local papers asked as soon as they stepped outside, as if this simple paternity hearing had been world news.
“Ya gwan give us a dollah? Please!”
“Me hungry . . . me want a water ice!”
“Me want a water ice, too! A dollah for me, too!”
Some local kids begged, scattered around him and Tatum. Tatum had almost forgotten that in Kingston, Jamaica, they were different. They were royalty.
Ree peeled off several twenties but posed for no pictures as he and Tatum slid into their awaiting ride.
The gust of chill from the blasting air-conditioning greeted them, seeming to provide a temporary relief from the sweltering heat.
“Crush, take us back to the estate, man.”
He gave the order as if the whole ordeal hadn’t taken place.
Tatum’s body tensed.
“But I thought we were going to the plane?” Her voice was weaker than usual, its spunk seeming to be sucked dry out of it.
Ree looked to her and his gaze softened to a sympathetic one, one that said a million apologies. He couldn’t control the circumstances and he knew he’d hypothetically done nothing wrong, but he recognized it had to upset her. Reaching over, he grabbed her hand.
“I know, Tatum. Look, I need you . . . I just need you to go without me. I’ll be right behind you in a few days.”
Tatum didn’t like change. And for some reason, she felt like this was the beginning of a big one.
Tatum and Ree had been through so much to be together: from the death of one of her best friends, Kim; to the murder of her brother; to Ree going on the run from the Feds after her brother snitched on him; and finally them reuniting by fate in Jamaica, despite the fact that he had gotten involved with Trinity and evidently had gotten her pregnant. Tatum couldn’t take any more hurdles and definitely any changes.
She placed her thumb and forefinger on her temples, feeling a headache coming on, and she took a deep breath.
“Okay so . . . why are you right behind me in a few days, Ree?”
She couldn’t hide her irritation if she wanted to.
Ree studied her briefly and then looked ahead, appearing to be choosing his words carefully although Tatum was aware that he knew exactly what he wanted to say. A man like Ree always knew what he wanted to say.
“Look, I gotta go see him, Tatum. You should know that. And I have to figure out how I’m . . . how we are gonna work this shit out.”
He sounded exasperated.
Tatum understood, she really did. But could she help the fact that it sickened her? And for a man who always seemed to be so right, he had one thing majorly, drastically wrong.
“Well then I guess we’ll both go back in a few days. Because I’m staying too.” Tatum would be damned if she left him on this island with his new baby mama.
Ree knew where it was coming from. He had heard Trinity’s slick comments. Had he not been so self-consumed in his sudden shocking reality, he would have responded to them.
“Tatum . . . you know you have nothing to worry about. Nothing,” he repeated with certainty.
“And I thought you had a fitting for your dress tomorrow. You know Sasha’s there waiting for you so you two can do all of that women stuff you’ve been running up the phone bills talking about.”
He tried to add a little humor as he pinched her chin with a chuckle but Tatum didn’t break a smile. She stared him unblinkingly in the eyes.
“Oh, that can wait, Ree . . . the wedding shit can wait. As a matter of fact, the wedding can wait,” she added, turning her gaze to the window glumly so he wouldn’t see the tears if they decided to fall. The beauty of sunny Jamaica as it all whizzed by did little to lift Tatum’s solemn mood.
Ree wasted no time addressing the comment.
“You wanna tell me what that’s supposed to mean?”
Tatum took a deep breath and shrugged, saying words more brave than she actually felt.
“Well, maybe we should . . . just postpone it. Given the circumstances,” she added in a mumble.
Ree stared at her long and hard before replying.
“And what’s that gonna do? Look at me.” He lightly grabbed her face and turned it to him. Tatum reluctantly met his gaze with her own watery and beautiful, big brown doe eyes. He asked it again. “What’s gonna change, Tatum?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Six months from now . . . a year from now, five years from now, it’s still gonna be the same circumstances.”
Tatum hated his rational way of thinking sometimes. It angered her that he was trying to act like there wasn’t a big pink elephant in the Maybach.
“Yeah, the same circumstances but time to think,” she replied. “Think about if I’m even the one you need to be marrying.”
“Are you serious?” he asked her in disbelief.
“Ree, you . . . you didn’t know that S.J. was your baby when you asked me to marry you in that hotel room. You didn’t know that Trinity was telling the truth!” She could feel herself becoming upset and her cheeks becoming hot, the burning from a cry itching in her throat. “I just want you to be truthful with what you feel. I can handle it . . . just don’t leave me in the dark.”
“Tatum . . .”
Ree tried to grab her and pull her close to him, but he could feel her resistance.
“No . . .”
“No? What you mean . . . come here!” She was throwing up a wall at a time when they needed to be connected.
“Are you for real?” Tatum questioned in disbelief. “It’s your baby, Ree!” she screamed suddenly, as if reminding him of the past hour and a half. It felt good to finally get that out.
“I thought there was no way that was your baby?” she whispered with pain all in her voice.
“And I thought you told me you would be fine even if it was,” he calmly reminded.
Ree looked down at her and their faces were inches apart. Tatum studied him, feeling beyond emotional. He was so handsome, so captivating. A thought of him and Trinity conceiving Sean Jr. entered her mind. She had to divert her gaze at the thought.
“Tatum, listen. Who cares if I didn’t know Trinity was carrying my baby. I knew that I wanted to marry you . . . right? Ain’t that the reason I put that ring on your finger?” he asked her as if she already knew the answer.
“If I wanted to marry Trinity, I would’ve put it on hers. Don’t ever question that.”
He then brought his hand up to her flawless brown face and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “A baby won’t change how I feel about her, and it definitely won’t change how I feel about you. I just need to know that what we have is strong enough to get through this.”
Tatum stared up at him.
“I love you, Ree. I really do,” she admitted softly.
“And you know I love you more,” he reminded her before meeting her lips with his. He wouldn’t let her say another word.
When the kiss broke, Tatum realized they were already at the estate. Ree didn’t move though. He continued to stare at her with his piercing brown eyes and then he spoke in his low Jamaican-laced voice.
“C’mon, let’s go inside. I’ll have Rose make us some lunch . . . and we can talk some more if you want.”
Rose was the live-in keeper of the estate who had been taking care of it while Ree and Tatum divided their time between Jamaica and the States.
As Crush walked around and opened the door, the couple stepped out of the car, Tatum first of course, and planted their feet onto their vast property.
“Thanks, Crush,” Tatum spoke as he closed the door behind them. She had grown fond of the big guy who had been Ree’s good friend for many years and recently had turned into their driver and her occasional bodyguard. Ever since he escorted Tatum to the hospital in Atlanta the night Aubrey was poisoned, they had begun to form a bond of friendship built on very few words. She knew he had to be genuine for Ree to trust him the way he did. And his nature reminded Tatum of a giant teddy bear’s.
“Yo, I’ll call you when the jet’s ready and she’s ready to go,” Ree informed him. Tatum remained silent but she found it amusing that Ree still thought she was going back to the States without him. Even if she was confident in her position, which she was, she was not going to just give Trinity any opportunity. She pursed her lips, and as Ree began to walk off, she leaned into Crush and whispered.
“You can get lost ’cause I’m not going anywhere.” He smiled subtly because he had heard some of the discussion and he knew exactly what she meant.
He put his hand to his brow and bid her a farewell in the form of a salute. Tatum returned the gesture.
She began to follow behind her man and Ree stopped and stood at the front door smiling with his eyes as he watched her.
That was the woman meant to be his wife. When she reached him, Ree gently placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her in the large arched door.
“Let’s find Rose,” he spoke once they stepped inside. “What you want to eat?”
“Something with shrimp,” she answered evenly, knowing exactly what she’d been craving. “I guess I’m gonna go call Sasha and change. I’ll be right back.”
Before she could completely strut off, he grabbed her gently by the arm and pulled her into him, kissing her softly on the lips. He then released his grasp and allowed them to part ways.
That kiss set her entire body on fire, but she wouldn’t let him know it. Tatum thought of everything that had just occurred as she made her way up one of the twin spiral staircases.
Reaching the bedroom, she stepped out of her brown-and-beige, zebra-striped pumps and allowed her pedicured feet to sink into the soft fur-like carpet. She found the shoes’ proper resting place in the Prada shoebox and went to grab her flats, but realized she had left them at the condo in Georgia.
“Back and forth, back and forth. I’m starting to forget shit.”
After unclasping her clutch with a sigh, Tatum retrieved her cell phone and dialed Sasha with FaceTime while awaiting the sound and view of her best friend. Finally she answered and Sasha’s cinnamon-toned, sweat-glistened face came into view.
“What are you doing?” Tatum asked with a chuckle, still getting a kick out of being able to see people she spoke to. “Are you on the treadmill?”
Sasha giggled and smiled.
“I just got off. Gotta keep it tight, keep it right!”
Tatum gave a half eye roll and smirked.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“So,” Sasha started excitedly, unable to contain her anxiety. “Tell me the look on that bitch’s face when they read the results!”
Tatum raised her eyebrows coolly and took a seat on her large, soft bed, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“It was ... it was something else.”
Sasha laughed, bugging out.
“Ooh . . . I know it was! Court fees, twenty-five dollars. Paternity test, one hundred fifty dollars. The look on Trinity’s lying-ass face when the results are read . . . priceless!” Sasha laughed, mocking the MasterCard commercial. “Did the bitch look hurt as hell?”
Tatum shrugged and took a deep breath before answering. She began twirling her ring again.
“This bitch did. . . .”
Sasha’s smile gradually faded as she studied Tatum’s relaxed demeanor, now turned solemn. Tatum had behaved too calmly for Sasha to ever assume that it had turned out to be Ree’s baby. She didn’t seem angry. But now, now she could see that Tatum was neither upset nor happy. Tatum was just . . . Tatum.
“But . . . how?” Sasha had to know.
“I don’t know.” Tatum shook her head, truly not knowing what else to say.
Tatum could tell Sasha didn’t want to say it but she reluctantly asked.
“Do you . . . do you think he was . . . lying. About always using protection?”
Tatum glanced up and peered around the doorway to make sure Ree was not coming up the steps.
“Nah . . . I don’t think so. I just . . . I just don’t see him lying to me about something like that. I know that sounds crazy ’cause niggas lie all the time. But I don’t think Ree would.”
Sasha just pressed her lips together and nodded, truly not knowing what to say.
“So,” she started again. “Did you tell him?”
Tatum took a deep breath and looked up again, wanting to be extra careful that he wasn’t around.
“No . . . no, I couldn’t. The timing, after all of that . . . it wasn’t right.”
“The timing is never right, Tay. You gotta tell him.”
“I will. Just not now.”
“Why not?”
“Why?” Tatum snapped.
“It’s just . . .” Sasha paused and then continued. “Whatever, we’ll talk about it at the fitting.”
“Oh yeah . . .” Tatum knew that Sasha was about to be pissed. “. . . about that.”
“What?” Sasha asked, sensing Tatum’s trepidation.
“Look, Sash, I know a fitting with Monique is like . . . impossible. But . . . I’m gonna have to cancel it.”
“Cancel it?” Sasha asked with a raised voice like Tatum had killed her dog. Sasha thought a fitting with Monique Lhuillier was like dinner with Jesus, that’s how much she swore by fashion. She was more shocked by this than the paternity news. “Bitch, are you smoking crack!”
Tatum allowed a chuckle to escape through her melancholy. She had expected this.
“Sasha, have you been listening to me? It’s his baby. I don’t even know if we should go through with all of this.”
Sasha remained quiet but her heavy breathing told a story of its own. She spoke calmly and slowly.
“Tatum. You cannot let this ruin everything. In two weeks you are going to be Mrs. Sean Knights. Nobody else.” She took another breather and then proceeded. “Look, I know you didn’t expect this, neither one of y’all did. But it was always a possibility. And you said you wanted to get married to him regardless. You also said how important it was for you to get married on your parents’ wedding anniversary, even after the paternity test was scheduled and you knew it was a few weeks before. Monique Lhuillier stopped what she was doing, to personally design your dress, and you won’t even go to get fitted for it? What type of person are you?” Sasha asked in shock.
“You know, I always knew you were a cold bitch . . . I knew it,” she added in a slight joking manner, and Tatum couldn’t help but giggle. Her eyes squinted up and she had to laugh out loud, her same goofy, silly, loud laugh.
She looked up midlaugh and she saw Ree now standing in the doorway staring warmly at her as she continued her conversation.
“All right! All right! Fine . . . I’ll see you tomorrow, bitch.”
“All righttt,” Sasha squealed excitedly. “I can’t wait! Now . . . are you gonna tell him?” she added.
Tatum’s smile faded to a faint nervous look as she glanced at Ree and then abruptly cut Sasha off.
“Girl, let me call you back.”
“Tay, listen you better—” End call.
Tatum half-smiled at Ree and then placed her phone on the bed. He walked over and sat next to her and her heart sped up wondering how much he had heard.
“I’m glad you talked to your girl,” he spoke to her. “I’m glad she made you laugh.” He stared at Tatum.
“You know I love seeing you laugh like that.”
Tatum smiled at him realizing he hadn’t caught anything but the end of the conversation.
“So what you gotta tell me?” he added.
Sasha, Tatum thought. Big mouth.
Tatum thought quickly on her feet.
“Um, just that I’m going back tonight. I’m gonna go to the fitting . . . you just can’t cancel on Monique Lhuillier, you know,” she added with a hint of sarcasm, hoping he’d buy it. He wrapped his strong arm around her waist and she knew he had.
“That’s my girl.”
Ree then pulled her to him, turning her face with his hand and leaning in, kissing her deeply on the mouth. Tatum’s whole body trembled when she tasted his tongue. Still. He still did that to her. Breaking the kiss, he stared at her before speaking.
“So . . . I guess this means you still gonna marry me, huh?”
Tatum had to kiss him on those perfect lips once more before she answered.
“Hmm . . . maybe.” Her voice was thick and sultry. “Depending on what happens in the next hour, Mr. Knights.”
Moving closer, she straddled him with ferocity. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. She had just found out that he fathered another woman’s child and all she wanted to do was engage in baby-making acts of her own.
“Damn . . .” Ree grunted, grabbing ahold of her wide hips as her dress rose to the most upper part of her thighs and her legs wrapped around his waist. Ree pulled her closer so she could feel his vast hardness beneath her as he eyed her creaminess. He hadn’t expected this, but he welcomed it as any man would.
He leaned in and ran his tongue along her collarbone.
“Mmm,” Tatum moaned, circling her midsection and subtly grinding on him. She was trying her best to work this Trinity situation out of her mind. Sexing her man and reminding herself that he belonged to only her would be a sure step of progress.
Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, Tatum began reveling at his tattoo-decorated muscular upper body. She traced her fingertips along every design and every ripple in his build. Reaching below, she then ran her hand along his thick shaft through the fabric of his pants. Tatum’s bedroom voice and sexual movements had Ree hard as a baseball bat.
“That’s all you right there,” he assured her in his sexy baritone.
“It’s mine?”
“You know it.”
“I know what to do with it too,” she promised with a lick of her full lips.
“Show me what you know then.”
Tatum couldn’t contain it. The fire inside of her was ablaze and Ree was like her water, she needed him to subside it. Kissing him with fervent passion, she meticulously unbuckled his pants feeling her juices now begin to pour out of her. She was sure that her thin panty barrier was pointless and that she had well leaked onto Ree’s designer slacks. But he didn’t seem to mind as he assisted her, releasing his long, thick tool from his boxers.
Just like a work of art, it didn’t matter how many times Tatum had seen it. Each time left her in awe. She paused her kiss to gaze at it for a moment.
Hello, she thought, eyeing her prize.
Still in a daze, Tatum felt Ree skillfully push her panties to the side as he began to run his fingers across her moist clit. Seeing that she was already dripping wet, Ree wasted no time guiding Tatum down onto his dick with ease.
“Come ’ere, baby . . .” he moaned.
Tatum closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, grabbing ahold of his hair and resting her face on his shoulder in pure pleasure.
“Ree,” she cried out desperately, feeling a gush of liquid instantly release onto him. She was on the brink of tears from the ecstasy she was feeling and the raw emotion of the day’s events combined. It wasn’t long before Ree felt the moisture on his shoulder as he stroked her.
“Why you crying, baby . . . huh? . . . don’t cry,” he urged softly as he thrust deeper into her, sending Tatum into an orgasm. “I love you, Tatum. You’re my queen. . . .”
Ree wrapped his strong, tattooed arms around her and sucked gently on her neck and shoulder before repeating, “You’re my queen, Tatum.”
Tatum’s pussy was like a never-ending faucet, her wetness just continued to pour and release, no halting.
“God damn, you so fucking wet, Tatum.”
Hearing the pleasure in his tone sent . . .
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Thicker Than Water 3
Takerra Allen
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