Mistress Read online

  Mistress

  Meisha Camm

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Epilogue

  Urban Books, LLC

  97 N 18th Street

  Wyandanch, NY 11798

  Mistress Copyright © 2006 Meisha Camm

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-6016-2074-3

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Submit Orders to:

  Customer Service

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  Westminster, MD 21157-4627

  Phone: 1-800-733-3000

  Fax: 1-800-659-2436

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank Jesus Christ for giving me this gift of writing. With the power of prayer and determination, anything is possible.

  The easiest part of a book is actually writing it. I have learned struggle, hard work, and patience are three vital elements in the process of becoming successful.

  Thank you to Carl Weber, Roy Glenn, Arvita Glenn, and the Urban Books family for believing in my work, once again.

  Most importantly, a special thanks goes out to all of the fans. Thank you for the feedback and encouragement.

  Thank you to my parents, Rodney and Shelly Camm, and my sister Melanie for the encouragement and support. To Jessica Tilles and Niko Hamm, thank you for critiquing my work and pushing me to write to the best of my ability.

  To my friends and family, Mr. and Mrs. Ballinger, Chunichi Knott, Tiffany Ballinger, Lachele Edmonds, Chrissy Smith, Sara Schiable, Linda Potts, Pat Howell, Calvin Hatcher, Kisha Powell, the entire Wade family, and Renee Bobbs, thank you for your kind words of encouragement.

  To the online writing groups, RealSistaWriters and Writers’ Rx, thank you for always sending me important information pertaining to the book world. A special thanks to Gevell Wagner for taking the time out to read my work.

  To Nikki Turner, Tobias Fox, Edwin and Earnest McNair, Michael Baisden, Shannon Holmes, Zane, and Mary Monroe, thank you for steering me in the right direction.

  Prologue

  My name is Alexis Kayla Gibbs and I have an addiction. His name is Jarrad Simmons, and for the past three years, I’ve struggled to insert the key to unlock the undeserving hold he has on my heart. Through thick and thin, I’ve been by his side and tolerated his shit, but all I receive are fruitless promises and commitments, and countless trips to the abortion clinic, because he doesn’t like to use condoms. He says he can’t feel anything. Well, Jarrad, guess what? I feel the killing of a life each time my legs are hoisted in the air and strapped down in stirrups, you bastard! I wised up and got on birth control after the third tormenting abortion.

  Mercedes Benz, Lexus, diamond and platinum jewelry, enough bling to brighten up a black hole. Summers in the Hamptons, winters in Miami, and in between, vacations in Brazil, Paris, Jamaica, Tobago, and any place the urge strikes to temporarily plant my feet. Women would give their first-born to walk in Jimmy Choo’s. But, trust me, it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.

  * * *

  The material things mean nothing to me. I stopped being materialistic a long time ago. What matters to me is that I have Jarrad by my side. Cravings for him run deep, sometimes to the point where I feel suffocated.

  You want to know what’s funny? I truly believed in my heart and soul Jarrad was going to leave his wife for me. I watch Oprah and Maury daily. I should’ve known better. Each time he says, “Baby, I’m going to ask her for the divorce soon,” I roll my eyes and mumble to myself, “I’ll believe that shit when I see it.”

  I had my opportunities to burst his bubble and spill my guts to the fake Mrs. Simmons. However, I remained quiet. Besides, there was no need to rock the boat and fuck up my lifestyle. But I do make sure he feels the rapture of my anger and frustration every chance I get. Believe me, he suffers. Only, not like I suffer being the mistress to a married man. I loved him so much, it hurt, and deep down in my heart, I knew he loved me too, but not enough to change my last name.

  As the years went on, I began to realize that Jarrad was the problem and not wifey. He kept me tucked away, like a precious fourteen-karat diamond that’s worth millions. And, thanks to my father, I’d known this life far too well. I didn’t know any other way to live.

  Chapter 1

  The door slammed so hard that I thought for sure it would put a crack in the wall and all of the pictures on the shelves would come tumbling down. An ice-cold chill went down my spine as I lay down scared in the bed. Something wasn’t right. I decided to tiptoe down the stairs to see what the commotion was. I got to the sixth step and stopped because I didn’t want anyone to see me lurking in the shadows of the darkness. Everyone stopped in the kitchen.

  Ma was fuming as she rubbed her round, firm, pregnant belly. “Robert, you no-good bastard, I’ve had enough! I want you and your shit out of my house!” Ma commanded.

  It had been at least three months since my parents stopped fighting. Now this . . . just when the house was starting to get back to normal. All Ma ever wanted was for us to be a family.

  “I’m carrying your baby and you have the nerve to cheat on me for the fifth time,” she barked, slamming her fist on the table.

  “Baby, please you’ve got it all wrong. Just listen to me.” Pop tried to hold her hand.

  “Cut the bullshit! How dare you insult my fucking intelligence. I shouldn’t have to track your sorry ass down at some bar at four in the damn morning.”

  Ma was angrier than I’d ever seen, and Pop was like a dirty dog with his tail between his legs, begging for forgiveness, and trying to drum up the best excuse he could muster.

  “And you had the audacity to have your fucking tongue down her throat for all the world to see. The last time I checked, you d
on’t tongue-kiss a friend. What kind of fool do you take me for?” Ma had tears in her eyes.

  Pop continued to plead for Ma’s forgiveness. “It was nothing. It meant nothing. I mean, I do admit I did get a li’l tipsy . . . But it won’t ever happen again. I give you my word, hon’. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Pop sulked and shook his head.

  Ma raised her palms in the air and yelled to top of her lungs. “Shut up, shut up. Just shut the hell up!” She turned back to Pop and leaned over the counter. Ma lowered her head, as if in prayer. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

  “I knew you were with her. Since I slapped your tasteful lust out of her mouth, maybe she’ll leave your sorry ass alone. Robert! I don’t want to hear any more of your lame excuses.” She spoke between clenched teeth, her jaws tight.

  I moved in closer to the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. I’d never seen Ma like this before. She was scaring me. This whole mess was scaring me. Pop’s messing around had finally come back around to bite him in the butt. Ma opened her eyes and glared at the knife laying on the counter. She inched her fingers closer to the knife. “You can’t keep your dick inside your pants.” She wrapped her fingers around it.

  “Pussy is on your mind twenty-four/seven.” Ma quickly turned around and began wailing the knife in the air at Pop.

  He jumped to his feet and stepped back toward the door, getting out of her way. “Okay, honey. This is getting out of hand. Put the knife down!”

  “Fuck you! I’ll put this knife down when I’m done cutting your throat!”

  I darted in the kitchen past Pop and dropped down to Ma’s feet, wrapping myself around her legs. “Ma, Ma, please stop crying!”

  She looked down at me and lowered her shoulders. She looked at Pop and gazed angrily into his eyes.

  “Look at what you’re doing to your own daughter, let alone this family.” Ma began to weep hysterically, the knife still affixed to the palm of her hand and held high above her head.

  Uncle Freddy and Aunt Cecily had made their way out of slumber and into the kitchen, due to all of Ma’s screaming at the top of her lungs. They were staying with us for a little while just till their new house was built. Both stood in the doorway, alarmed at what was taking place before them.

  Aunt Cecily called out to Ma, “Viv, don’t do this. He’s not worth it.” She began to walk toward Ma slowly and with extreme caution.

  Uncle Freddy slowly followed on Aunt Cecily’s heels, mimicking her every move. “Cecily is right, Viv. No man is worth all of this. Think about Alexis and your baby.”

  Aunt Cecily recognized that Ma was a time bomb that could explode any minute. “Viv, give me the knife, honey.” She extended her hand toward Ma.

  “Please, Viv,” she whispered, “give me the knife.”

  Uncle Freddy walked behind Ma as if he were walking on thin ice. He looked mortified at an angry woman wailing around a butcher’s knife. He slowly grabbed her by the arms and whispered in her ear. “He ain’t worth it.”

  Ma stared off into space as she surrendered, gently placing the knife into Aunt Cecily’s hand and shaking her head repeatedly.

  Aunt Cecily placed the knife in the drawer. She turned to Ma and kissed her on the cheek before embracing her. “It’s going to be all right.” She looked down at me and pulled me up to my feet. “Baby, your momma is going to be all right. Go to your room, sweetheart.”

  I looked up at Ma. I always obeyed Aunt Cecily, but this time I had to get permission from Ma. I had to know it was all right for me to leave her. “Ma?”

  “Go to your room, Alexis. Pack a few outfits and come right back, baby,” Ma instructed.

  Aunt Cecily and Uncle Freddie were more of a stable couple. I never saw them fight. If things got too rough, Ma would send me over to their house, where I was treated like a true princess. Ice cream, candy, cookies galore, and all for me.

  I got my clothes and ran back downstairs and into the kitchen with my bag and my favorite teddy bear, Jelly Bean, in my hands.

  Ma did get one good lick at Pop, grazing his arm. I saw tiny drops of blood trickling down.

  “I hate you.” She spat in his face.

  “Don’t go. I love you. I’ll make it up to you.” Pop got on his hands and knees. “I told you, those other women don’t mean anything to me. You will always have my heart,” Pop proclaimed, pointing to it.

  “Your heart got you home this morning and not last night. I’m tired of this, Robert. I can’t do it anymore. You’re driving me crazy. We have a child, and another on the way.”

  I knew this song and dance all too well. Still every time, I cried. I didn’t want the most two important people of my life at each other’s throats.

  “In the morning, you better be out of my damn house. Let me remind you that knife in the drawer is my new best friend,” Ma devilishly smirked, walking to the door with my aunt, uncle, and myself following behind her.

  Next stop, my Uncle Leroy’s house.

  Chapter 2

  It’d been a whole month since I’d seen Pop. Every night, he’d been standing outside the front door for hours pleading Ma to take him back. She would just tune him out and act as if he wasn’t even there. By morning, he’d be gone. She got the locks and the phone number changed. I missed him so much. Her tummy was getting bigger by the minute. I was hoping for a new baby brother.

  I was watching my favorite cartoon, Tom and Jerry, while enjoying a bowl of Froot Loops.

  “Alexis Kayla Gibbs, will you please give me a hand with these groceries?” Ma demanded.

  Luckily, I went just in time to rescue the eggs that were falling out of her hands. “No problem,” I replied, laying them on the counter.

  “Girl, I wouldn’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you.” She sighed and kissed me on the cheek.

  “You would be sad.”

  She put the milk in the refrigerator. “This cookie in the oven and you give me strength to go on.”

  “I love you, Ma.”

  “I love you too, baby. We’ve got a few things to do today. First, go clean up that filthy bathroom of yours and take a shower. You need to get your hair done. Lord knows, I don’t have the strength to tackle down those kinks in your head.” She plopped down on the leather couch. “I told Rhonda we would be at the shop in an hour. My doctor’s appointment is at two this afternoon.”

  The bathroom was a piece of cake. All I had to do was to wash the bathroom sink with Comet.

  I jumped in the shower for ten minutes. I loved to get my hair done. Ms. Rhonda would always make it look tight.

  “Ma, I’m ready,” I panted, running from out of my room.

  “Okay, let me just put these last bit of groceries away.”

  * * *

  Ms. Rhonda’s hair salon was packed, and even though Ma would always seem to wait till the last minute to book an appointment, she always managed to squeeze me in.

  “What’s on the hair menu for today?” I asked.

  “I was thinking about giving you a nice doobie wrap. This way, your mother or you can just wrap your hair,” Rhonda explained, applying the relaxer to my scalp.

  “I want it to have some curl to it though.”

  “Coming right up. Tell me if you’re burning.”

  I was in agony sitting under the hot dryer. Ma was fast asleep. Nowadays, she only had a smile on her face when eating or sleeping. I let Essence, Ebony, Jet, and Ladies’ Home Journal all keep me company.

  “You’re all finished.” Ms. Rhonda sighed. She sprayed glosser on my hair and spun me around in the chair.

  “Thanks, Rhonda.” Ma pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. Consider it an early baby shower gift. Vivian, don’t fight me on this one. Go home, relax, and take care of Alex and the one in your stomach.”

  Ma giggled. “You’re too much.”

  I waved good-bye to Rhonda, and Ma and I walked out of the shop.

  Another woman waiting to step into the door looked
down, locking eyes with me and then Ma. She had a huge ponytail that didn’t look like all of her hair and was fidgety at the door and seemed to be in a hurry.

  “Hmm . . . excuse me, do I know you?” the woman asked, tapping Ma on the shoulder.

  “I don’t think so, unless you’ve seen me at this hair shop,” Ma stated.

  “No, no. I’m sure to have seen you and your daughter in a picture.” She looked back at me. “Alexis, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s my name,” I said, trying to be friendly.

  “What picture?” Ma demanded to know.

  “Now, I know. My boyfriend Robby showed me a picture of you and your daughter. You’re his sister, right? He’s hoping the baby will be his brand-new nephew so he can have somebody to watch football games with. Now, I need a favor from you,” she insisted.

  “What’s that? Um . . . I didn’t catch your name,” Ma said, balling up her fists.

  “It’s Yvonne. I’m not one to be working. Robby promised to help out on my bills. I need to get my hair done. I have no other choice than to write a postdated check to Rhonda, hoping it clears the bank. He’s a real catch. I see the future and his restaurants are taking off, which means I can be the homemaker and eat Klondike bars all day and watch the soaps. So, if you see him, please let him know I’m on the lookout.” She giggled.

  Ma said, “Yvonne, let me ask you a small question.”

  “Sure. You can ask me anything.”

  “Did you screw him?”

  “Yeah. What’s it to you? You’re his sister. You shouldn’t want to know how he gets down in the bedroom.”

  “Three things, Yvonne, you need to know. First, Robby is my husband. Second, the restaurants we own together. Third, take this as a lesson learned. Never screw a man who promises to give you the world. He should have gave it to you before you gave it up to him. It would be in your best interest to leave him alone. Dogs always know where home is,” Ma announced and then walked to the car, leaving Yvonne standing in the doorway in tears.