Love Redeemed Book 4 Read online

  Love Redeemed

  of the

  Love’s Improbable Possibility Series

  by Love Belvin

  Published by MKT Publishing

  Copyright © 2014 by Love Belvin

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidences are fictitious and a product of the author’s imagination.

  Cover design by Marcus Broom of DPI Design

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Love Acknowledges

  “May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart

  be pleasing in your sight,

  LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.”

  (Psalm 19:14 New International Version)

  Chapter 1

  Rayna

  I jump right into work with an interview for an assistant position. The candidate is the last of many screenings over the past two weeks. Sarah-Megan Shepller is a promising twenty-three-year-old student, studying to be a licensed physical therapist. Secretly, her name tickles me. I have to call her Sarah-Megan as she has two first names like the actress, Lisa-Raye McCoy. She’s sharp and extremely knowledgeable about techniques and treatment plans. She seems to say all the right things and projects the confidence needed to command my attention. Sarah-Megan is the only qualified candidate that’s available to start right away, which furthers my intrigue. According to her renowned affiliations, she’s committed to the profession. We even know a few people in common, professionally.

  Ahhh! So there is a bit of sunlight after yesterday’s bitter storm.

  Yesterday was god-awful. Learning the paternity of Tara’s baby not only sheds light on my future with Azmir, it also brings with it increasing doubts about being able to fully trust him. He has so many layers, countless secrets. It makes me wonder what other pieces of him are floating around, hiding themselves from me, the woman who’s agreed to be his wife. The prospect is frightening. These discoveries: learning of his pseudo affair with Dawn Taylor, him withholding the paternity results, his lying about his knowledge of it just before proposing—they counteract my efforts to settle my heart and find security in my relationship with him. All day, these dubious thoughts loom despite my efforts to push them into the recesses of my overactive mind.

  After the interview, I attend to two patients who actually follow their treatment plans. I can tell their rehabilitation is progressive and can give approximations for complete repairs and healings. A busy workday is providing the best short-term remedy to my wrestled mind. My morning is going well until Sharon pages me, informing me of a visitor. She knows to have them wait until I instruct her otherwise. Since Harrison’s visit and our current A.D. Jacobs imposed security, there is now stricter protocol to follow.

  “Who is it, Sharon?”

  “Ms. Tara Harrison.”

  My heart skips a beat and I let out a deep sigh. I knew this morning was going too well to be true! I don’t want a show and feel that I could handle Tara physically if she has plans to become recklessness.

  “Show her to my office, please.”

  “Okay,” Sharon agrees.

  Moments later, there’s a knock at the door and I know it’s Sharon showing Tara in.

  Tara is always flawless, well-poised, with no detail out of place. She’s wearing fitted indigo blue jeans, a black sheer shirt, and an off-white blazer with black booties. It’s clear that she’s fashion forward. Every time I see her she dons something impressive. I wonder how much of her style is attributed to Azmir. How much of my style is accredited to Azmir? Her large hoop rhinestone earrings level her high and very long ponytail. She looks great. I’m relieved to see she doesn’t have her baby with her. She was entirely out of line for that last night.

  “Tara.” I stand and greet her, trying to sound as if I’m raising the white flag, though deep inside I’m trying to command the wherewithal to battle another round with her. This will be difficult because I’m still fatigued from the events of last night.

  Sharon turns on her heels, leaving the door slightly ajar.

  “Rayna…or is it Dr. Brimm?” she asks with a hidden sneer.

  “Rayna Brimm will work just fine. How may I help you?” Seeing as you are in the stalkerish habit of visiting me at my most intimate places. What’s next—church?

  “I need to talk to you. I think I have a handle on you now.” She walks the short walls of my small office, observing my accolades.

  “A handle. Oh?” My favorite line used to bait people.

  When she makes her way to my desk Tara takes a seat, slowly depositing herself into the chair across from my desk. After a beat, I follow suit.

  “Yes. I really didn’t like you—well actually I hated you—when I heard about you and…it’s clear why. I have to admit that I was clearly smacked off my feet yesterday when you told me you lived with Azmir. I had no idea.” Tara issues a penetrative glare. I’m curious as to why she’s here. She snorts, “Imagine my surprise when I learned he no longer lived in the same place where I last visited him for the past four years or so.” Then her gaze travels into the distance as she murmurs, much to herself, “I can’t believe how much our worlds have drifted. Then there’s you,” her contemptuous glower returns to me. “…the new girl, who has all of this…” She waves at the office.

  Oh, how much the fruit does not fall far from the tree. She’s sounding like her father.

  “I swear I paid no attention to the potential seriousness of it until yesterday, when I saw you two…together.”

  Hmmmm…

  I stand to go and close the door just in case she tries to get slick. “Tara, seeing Azmir and me attempt to settle in after a day’s work hardly qualifies as seeing us “together.”

  I return to my seat only to meet her contemplative gaze again.

  “Oh,” Tara’s brow rises up her forehead. “I saw you two…together.” She lowers her head at the word.

  With my eyebrows narrowed, my head tilts, I ask, “What exactly do you mean, Tara?”

  “Let’s not be coy, Rayna.” Tara sighs long and hard, seemingly forcing out her next round of words. “I heard Azmir yelling when I was waiting on the elevator and I went back to the door to try to hear what was going on. I couldn’t, so I tried my luck at opening the door, and to my surprise it opened.” A sinister smile etches her beautiful face. “We came back inside and I tried to listen more, but couldn’t hear anything from the foyer. You know how large that place is.” She scoffs before continuing. “So I went down the hall to your bedroom. I could hear mumbling, but could hardly make out the words, so I left Azina at the door and tiptoed into the walkway of the room. I guess you guys were in the closet, but I could finally make out your words and I listened.”

  She pauses to read my reaction. I’m floored at the thought of our privacy being impeded upon.

  “Okay,” I urge her with squinted eyes. I want to make clear that she’s saying what I’m afraid she’s saying. I silently pray she isn’t prepared to tell me what seems to be, in slow motion, her direction.

  She groans as though she’s wounded. “When I heard him beg you not to leave him, my chest caved in. I couldn’t believe my ears.” Tara’s eye slowly seals. “Never in a million years would I have ever thought I would hear Azmir so vulnerable, so…needy. I’ve known him for quite some time and a part of my issue with him was that he was very reserved and not emotionally expressive.” There’s a pregnant pause as we both measure her last revelation. “Anyway, I thought I was caught when I saw him carry you out of the closet. I had gotten so caught up in your fight that I lost all senses.” Tara shakes her head and places a shaky hand on the side of her nose as she collapses into her hand. “I knew I was crossing boundaries—legal ones, but I couldn’t leave.”

  My heart’s pounding in my chest and I catch my head falling back from my neck giving out on me. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  “Tara, what are you saying?” The world stops spinning on its axis and my bottom lip hit the floor.

  Tara scoots up in her chair, with her voice cracking as though she’s trying to keep from breaking down and says, “I saw the two of you together.”

  I feel a gut blow.

  “Tara. Are. You. Saying. You. Watched. A. Very. Private. And. Intimate. Moment. Between. My. Fiancé. And. Me?” I speak slowly to be clear. I cannot believe this is happening to me.

  She exhales before answering. “Yes.” Her shoulders go limp and her eyes dance on the floor below. “I saw him go down on you…like his life depended on it, begging you to stay with him. He told you he needed you. Wow!” She snorts in disbelief. “I saw how naturally and…quickly you responded to him.” Her voice croaks. She isn’t able to control her emotions any longer. My head drops to my chest. I feel violated and exposed. I can hear no more
.

  “The way he made love to you…” Another pause. I close my eyes, shaking my head at her audacity.

  What has become of my life?

  Her voice becomes more projected, causing my gaze to rise to meet hers. Her beautiful chestnut eyes are brimming. Tara’s losing control. “It was as if you were his lifeline. I can’t stop wondering if he’d ever had those feelings…or that need for me.” She wipes the increasing flow of tears from her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I remember when things were good and I swear I still can’t recall that type of passion from him.” She pauses. And I can’t breathe. Steeling in my seat, can’t move if I willed myself to. “I can also remember so many times when he asked me to prepare myself for better because he was working for a better life. I didn’t get it. I just thought he didn’t get me. He wants to change me is what I would tell my mom.” At this point, she isn’t giving me eye contact. I can tell she’s rooted in thought.

  Is this a come to Jesus meeting?

  “When he was with you, he was so desperate.” Shaking her head, she seems broken.

  “What is the point of telling me all of this, Tara? You were wrong for coming back into the apartment unannounced!” I furrow my brows and ask through gritted teeth, “Why are you even here?”

  Tara’s unmoved by my animated terse. She doesn’t flinch or grimace. But she does answer. “Because I now realize how much I’ve lost. I never knew Azmir could be so…emotionally available. He had always seemed to be above me and dissatisfied.” She pauses again, this time giving me room to consider her words.

  The Azmir she’s been describing is not the man I encountered in the cafeteria of his recreation center last January. He’s not the man I lie down with each night. Not the sensitive man who employs patience and a soft hand in his approach to me.

  “I don’t know…” Tara exhales, snapping me from my musing. “If you decide to stay, then I’ll have to live with my transgressions. I’m sure you’ve heard about my relationship with DStruct and considering the way he was with you last night, possibly by Azmir—though he never confided shit in me. It was stupid, but I refuse to be judged because no one knew what it was like constantly feeling like I wasn’t good enough for Azmir. I mean, damn, I knew he was older, but I wasn’t ready for rocking chairs. He wanted me to be something I wasn’t. I hated his hood ass friends.” Her curious eyes wander over to me. “I don’t know how you’re doing with them, but I felt that if Azmir was on the come up why in the hell would he still hang out with the likes of Petey and Kid? And that Wop… Ugh!” She grimaces as she shakes her head resolutely. “I wanted no part of them.”

  Hearing her assessment of Petey and Kid is like a blow to the gut. They were Azmir’s inner circle, my friends. None of them deserving of the disdain she’s expressed. I recall Chanell, Liz, and Tionne’s description of her, and can now confirm they were on par with their depiction of Tara. For a minute, I consider asking for her take on Mark and Eric to confirm her sense of superiority, but I can’t formulate the words, so I remain quiet, afraid of the next discovery or confirmation of just how snobbish and selfish Tara indeed is.

  “Then he had the nerve to close up on me,” she continues her forlorn invective rant. “It was like we were in the same space, but he was eons away. I couldn’t take that shit anymore, so I started hanging out more and…I guess I got caught up. There were a lot of perks with being his girl. I got a lot of attention,” she confesses with a shrug. “I slipped up.” Tara shakes her head again, trying to snap out of her trance.

  “I fucked up and got pregnant in the meantime. I wanted so badly for my baby to be Azmir’s, but I knew it wasn’t and decided to try my luck. Azmir’s no dummy, so it was no surprise when he asked for a DNA test and kept pressing the issue.” Her eyes rise to mine and in no time slant. Mine narrow.

  Where is she going with all of this?

  “If you fuck up, I will be waiting in the wings. And so help me god, I will push, crawl, beg, and fight for another chance with him. I will come with full force and with no thoughts of you or your marriage if you make it to that point.” Tara speaks each word through clenched teeth and with conviction.

  “If?”

  “Yeah.” The sinister smile resurges. Something is brewing in her brain. “I saw the video. This morning, after trying to fall asleep with a broken heart and having another sleepless night with a newborn, I got an e-mail from a good friend of mine of you deep throating some random island guy. I thought to myself she’s no different from me…just a fuck-up away,” she giggles.

  I stare at her in sheer disbelief of her boldness. She returns the gaze, telling me she’s most sincere with her threats of watching my throne of Azmir’s heart. Should I take this seriously or is this simply a desperate attempt at her trying to get into my head? She doesn’t falter in her gape and neither do I. Tara has presented a challenge to me that I can’t refuse. She doesn’t deserve Azmir. More than that, he’s mine. She blew it, not me.

  My heart nearly leaps from my chest when I hear the door burst open. Two large figures fly in, flared and brewing. Instinctively, my back flies into my chair and mouth swings open. Azmir looks at me with examining eyes and then at Tara with a derisive glower.

  His head cocks to the sides as he calmly utters in between a flexing jaw, “You are really testing the bounds of my patience, Tara.” I hear the air roughly sloughing from his flared nostrils. “Have you any idea just how much in violation you are?”

  Without a tremble, she comments back, “We’re just having a civil conversation…like old buddies.”

  I watch as she tries to conceal her mirth. Does she like seeing him worked up like this? Does she enjoy his attention, no matter the cost?

  John, my assigned security detail, is standing guard by the door. My eyes bounce back and forth between Tara and Azmir. I idly wonder where he’s come from. He said he had a meeting in Culver City, which was nearly an hour away without traffic. And how did he know she was here in my office?

  Trivia aside, he looks overwhelmingly dapper in his trousers, matching vest, crisp white dress shirt, and brilliant blue tie, once again stretching the bounds of virile sophistication. I suppose he left his suit jacket wherever he’s just flown from. I rarely see him in three-piece suits. Perhaps that’s the etiquette when meeting with a bank. His height and confident poise all work together, giving him the classic authoritative and commanding appearance he radiates. I notice the slight swelling in his bottom lip that must have come from our altercation last night.

  Jesus, Rayna! I internally berate myself.

  “I’ve been patient, I’ve been generous, and I’ve recently learned I’ve even taken risks that I wasn’t aware of, trying to soften the blow of our separation.” Azmir inches nearer to her and bends his lengthy frame to get close to her face. “If I have to tell you to stay the fuck away from her once more, I swear on my life, you will see a cold and unrelenting side of me that will haunt you until your fucking death.”

  His Brooklyn tongue and tone is chilling, similar to his warning to me earlier in his car, but this time more vile. A chill runs through me.

  Tara gasps and I can see her cringe in her seat. I doubt that she was expecting this type of response from him. She isn’t alone.

  “I was about to leave, Azmir,” Tara shrieks.

  Just that quickly, her demeanor changes, like it did last night when she learned that I didn’t know Azmir was not her child’s father. She’s now afraid; no more cockiness coming from her direction as she shakily stands, gathering her purse. Tara heads for the door as John’s opening it, and in true melodramatic fashion, like her father, she leaves me with parting words.

  “Rayna,” she calls out to me, causing me to rise in a knee-jerk reaction. My nerves are likely just as frayed as hers now. So, I’d assume. With my full attention, she warns, “The wings can be lonely, but it’s only temporary…until you leave the stage.”

  In the next beat, “Tara,” I call out, “…my wing days are over. I’m in the starring role now. Have a nice life.” I offer a soft smile. “I plan to.”