When the smoke clears, p.1
When the Smoke Clears, page 1
WHEN THE
SMOKE CLEARS
KENYA WRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
When the Smoke Clears
Copyright © 2022 by Kenya Wright.
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
Third edition Printing, 2022
Kenya Wright
Special Thanks to my patrons at the
DIAMOND DIVAS TIER.
T. Cleaver
S. Cohen
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Thanks for your high level of support
on my Patreon!!
To Eric,
My Rustic Hustler
Thank you
for helping me
submerge within the light
until we became the sun.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Lorenzo
Kassie
Epilogue
Prologue
As soon as I pointed my gun, my husband pissed himself.
And it wasn’t a metaphor. The air stank of urine. Yellow liquid streamed down his designer paints and turned the gray into a charcoal color.
“Oh, God! She has a gun!” People in the firm’s boardroom shrieked. Some lifted their hands into the air. Others ducked behind chairs.
My husband, Ellis’s fingers shook as he raised his hands. “Kassie, please.”
“I gave you ten faithful years and you cheat on me?” I continued to aim at him. A burning pain swelled in my chest. Ten feet lay between us.
You did this. You think you can hurt me like this and everything will be okay? Fuck that. I’m not the one.
“Please, Kassie. Don’t do this.” With each bead of sweat on his forehead, tension built around us. “Just put the gun down.”
My voice came out hoarse. I’d cried so much I could barely talk. “Fuck you.”
My husband was a beautiful black man. When the average woman stared at him, they licked their lips and thought of warm chocolate dripping down their legs and swirling around their thighs. He had the hot body, advanced degrees, bank accounts, and charisma. Plus, he inspired others. He’d survived a broken home, escaped the trap of poverty, and had risen to financial success.
Now, Ellis looked like an angel sculpted in chocolate that had begun to melt. Things had gotten hot. Shit would never be the same. Fear bubbled along the sides and his ego liquefied, along with our marriage.
I’m so alone.
A black cloud weighed down my shoulders. I hunched over, but still kept my target in view.
“This is crazy, Kassie.” Ellis stepped toward me. “Think of Richard. What would he think of his mother, if—”
“Don’t even say his name!” I waved the gun in front of him. My hair swung in the air. A few strands blocked my right eye. I didn’t even move them and gripped the gun harder. I should’ve put my hair in a ponytail, but I’d been too mad while racing over to his law firm.
Crouching behind a chair, Ellis’s senior partner cleared his throat. “Mrs. Jones, please let us help you—”
“Shut up!” I glared at Ellis.
A woman cried in the corner.
Ellis tried to come closer.
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t test me. Stay right there.”
His bottom lip quivered. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“What do you want, Kassie?”
“I just want you to hurt. . .so bad.” I wiped away some tears with the back of my hand. “I just want you to feel as bad as I do. I want you to be scared and feel hopeless and not know what the fuck you’re going to do.”
He opened his mouth and had nothing to say as he stared at the gun in front of him.
“Do you feel that way now?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Someone banged on the locked door. I jumped a little. Lucky for Ellis, my finger hadn’t been on the trigger.
It’s probably the guards or police. What am I doing?
Tears spilled from Ellis’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Please put the gun down. I love you. I know I cheated this time—”
“And the other times. Don’t forget all of the other times.”
“And the others,” he whispered. “But. . .I’m just a sick man. It’s an addiction. I can’t help myself because it’s in my genes and—”
“I was going to leave it alone.” I said. “I was just going to bow out, when I found the first video of you fucking her. I was going to say, ‘Let’s get a divorce and do a reasonable custody of Richard. I’m done. She can have you.’ It was going to be this peaceful fucking hippy love shit, but then. . .I saw all of the mother fucking videos with you and Sky.”
I pointed the gun to my husband’s secretary, Sky. Earlier, I’d forced her to come in here, when I stormed through the firm’s lobby. Not a dummy, she obliged and rushed me to Ellis’s meeting.
“Are you going to hurt me?” Sky lowered to her knees.
You don’t get to treat people like shit and run off into the sunset. You fall. You crash. You lose.
I blinked through the tears. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to shoot you or not.”
“I will never see him again.” Sky shook her head. “Never. Ever.”
“I don’t care.” I spat the words at her. “You disrespected me.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice screeched at the last word.
“You came to my house. You lay in my bed. And you thought you could do it without hurting anyone.” I gestured to the gun. “That’s why I’m here.”
“I-I didn’t think y-you would find out,” Sky mumbled.
Ellis tried to step closer and stopped. “Think about our son.”
Sky begged, “I-I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry because you got caught.” I sucked my teeth. “You thought I was soft. Now you see this gun, and you’re regretting it all.”
She placed her hands in a prayer position as she kneeled. “I regret everything.”
“I may live in a big home with a pool and a maid, but I grew up in the hood and I will splatter your body parts all over this place.”
Ellis inched back. “What’s going to happen to our son, if you kill me?”
“If I let you go; it’ll teach our son that it’s okay to hurt the woman you’ve dedicated your life to. If I let you go, it’ll show him and other men that’s its fine.” Adrenaline rushed through me. “It would be better, if I go to jail for shooting you. It would be better, if every Miami paper reported the death of a cheating husband and his lover, and that news spread all over the country. You two don’t get a happily ever after.”
One of the female lawyers gasped.
“Baby, let’s go outside.” Ellis swiped at the sweat dripping down his face. “I still love you. Let’s . . . let’s go to the counselor like you’ve been asking—”
“All of those videos of you making love to her, in our house.” The gun heated in my hand. “You fucked her in our son’s room. Who does that? What were you thinking about, while doing that? What type of sick shit went through your head, while you had her in our shower, sticking my loofa up this nasty chick’s behind as if it was cool? And you didn’t even clean it after you were done.”
I turned to the other people in the room, cowering in fear. “He didn’t even clean it. Just let me wash with that nasty disease-infected thing for months. Does that make any sense?”
A red headed woman moved her head from side to side.
“I know right?” I glanced at the old guy in a blue suit on my right. “There are videos with Sky wearing my makeup, gowns, and shoes, dancing in the video like she’s about to be a star.”
“The Lord is my shepherd,” Sky whispered to herself. “He takes care of me. . .”
“Oh, great. She’s praying now.” The gun rattled in my hands. “But she wasn’t praying, when she was modeling my stuff and laughing at me in the video.”
Sky closed her eyes. “Even when I go through a dark valley facing death. . .”
My pulse sped up, booming in my chest. This moment would change everything in my life. I could pull the trigger right now and end it all. Someone could die—Ellis, Sky, or me. It already felt like the end of the world, everything crashing down.
I’d woken up that morning to print out my manuscript. I wrote romance novels and made good money doing it. Last night, I’d finished the first draft. To revise it, I liked to print the story out, letting the plot unfold in black and white. It was all a ritual. I would grab a glass of wine, get a big red pen, lounge by the pool, and revise the three or four hundred papers.
I’d been hyped for a morning of strikethroughs and pinot noir.
However, God said no. He broke my printer so I went into my husband’s home office, got on his computer, and boom. Ellis’s home videos. Short and long. With and without music. Threesomes and orgies where he performed as a star with people I’d never seen before. My home was always the setting. Some of the players were even men. One movie had a dwarf man in it, pounding in Ellis from behind. Every time, I drove with Richard to Sarasota to see my mother, Ellis had an erotic adventure, as if he’d been checking off a sex bucket list. And in almost every video, Sky danced and wore my clothes.
And the worst part, Ellis didn’t use a condom. For all I knew, every STD infected my body. Ellis had been my first and only lover. Now I could die from AIDS, because of his escapades.
I’d vomited all over his desk. A black sludge filled my heart. I felt so alone, like there was no God and the heavens ran black and empty. The agonizing hand of depression yanked my throat and wouldn’t let go. It dug its cold claws into my flesh. I couldn’t breathe. Pain weighed me down. Sunshine skies transformed into darkened clouds. I had to bow my head, walking outside while holding my gun and readying myself to shoot this motherfucker dead. Anxiety shackled my ankles. Still, I made it to the car and sped through the streets, cursing his name.
Ellis’s voice cracked. “I love you.”
“The cheating was only a means to the end. You dragged me down until I was nothing.” My vision blurred through the tears. “You told me I was fat, so I went on diets and ran and tried my best, starving myself.”
Only a few feet lay between us. I stepped up closer to him. “You told me I wasn’t a good cook, so I planned meals for days and studied the Food Network channel.”
I targeted the center of his forehead. “You told me I could be better in bed. I should do better as a mom. That you wished I was more of a sophisticated woman.”
“Don’t do it,” Ellis cried. “Don’t kill me, Kassie.”
Should I do it? It would feel good. So, good. He hurt me. He didn’t have to, but he did.
Images flashed in my head of what could occur. I could pull the trigger and watch the bullet explode from the tip, slice through the air with a boom, and pierce his skull. I could do it. Pain hardened my bones. Resentment swelled in my chest. Rage breathed life into a woman that had been walking around like a zombie in a loveless marriage.
I could do it.
I could witness his skull crack from the impact and watch his brain matter explode, splattering all over his whore’s face.
I would laugh. Why not? Sometimes, we had to enjoy the dark moments. Sometimes, we had to do more than fall upon our knees and cry.
I could make blood rain. I could change another man’s mind, and make him reconsider stepping out on his wife, because of Ellis’s tragic story.
Then my son’s face entered my mind, and I knew that I couldn’t carry out my plan of revenge.
“You said I wasn’t beautiful anymore.” Angry tremors ran through me. “And then you turned around, found this human tampon, and brought her into my house.”
“I’m sorry,” Ellis cried. “So sorry.”
“I know.” I pointed to his leg, pulled the trigger, and let the bullet fly.
Chapter 1
Kassie
One year later.
I can’t believe Richard pulled the fire alarm.
I jogged over to my son’s teacher, Mrs. Thompson.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Mrs. Thompson pointed to the front of the elementary office. “He’s up there with Lieutenant Hornsby.”
Sirens blared all around us. A long line of cars, filled with worried parents, crowded the streets. Two big fire trucks and an ambulance blocked both of the school’s entrances.
“Principal Ziff already talked to Richard,” she said. “Lieutenant Hornsby is now lecturing him.”
“Thank you.” I squinted and spotted a huge man towering over my son. Next to my eight-year-old, he looked like a giant. “Who is that?”
“Lieutenant Hornsby.” Mrs. Thompson turned away, directing traffic toward the football field.
I walked toward them and the Lieutenant looked my way.
Fuck. I don’t need this right now.
Sensations sparked across my flesh. Horniness ensued.
Really? Do you have to be this good looking? Just go away.
I had nothing against this guy, but to me, he was a fire starter. I couldn’t care less that he wore a firefighter uniform. All I knew was that when our gazes met, he set a blaze through my body. Hazel eyes burned every inch of my flesh. Flames rippled. Heat rose. I stumbled and had to catch my breath.
He was a fire starter.
I walked toward him and my son, Rich. They both had been engrossed in conversation. Then the sexy man looked at me and he no longer concentrated on my son.
I now had his attention.
Oh, put out a fire or something.
I simply didn’t have time for penises. I’d spent most of last year in a mental hospital for shooting my ex-husband. My writing career had fallen into ruin. My romance novels weren’t selling as well as they used to.
I needed to rebuild and start over.
I had to focus.
I marched forward.
Twenty feet lay between us.
Tanned skin spread over his muscular arms. His bulging chest stretched out the t-shirt showing his station’s number inside a fire hat. He had black, cropped hair that was tapered with a dose of swag on the sides.
He couldn’t have been only one ethnicity. He was composed of a lovely mixture of genes. Maybe, Black and Irish or Japanese and Puerto Rican? Something exotic.
He was six feet of sex and warm flesh, sensual memories and dark groans as one gripped the bed sheets and prayed that he wouldn’t stop.
“Uh oh. That’s my mom.” Rich pointed to me.
I ignored the heat in the firefighter’s eyes and the sweetness of his mouth.
I don’t have time for this.
Instead, I turned to the reason I’d come to the elementary school in the first place.
Rich.
My son. The one who set off the alarm. The one who triggered hysteria in teachers and students and had fire trucks blocking the entrance. Every parent hoping to pick up their child, now had to wait in a car line that extended ten blocks away from school.
Lieutenant Hornsby kept his eyes on me as I closed the distance. It made me feel like I was naked.
The principal’s call had ended my work out early. I wore tiny black shorts that gave my legs freedom to move while I ran, but didn’t hide the fact that I carried a big curve of plumpness behind me. A red athletic top finished the outfit and hid the extra cushion on my tummy. My black hair was gathered in a big ponytail atop my head.
I fit in at the gym. But, on school grounds, I felt more like some hip-hop video dancer—ass and titties out to the world, jiggling and bouncing around like I didn’t have a child and wasn’t over thirty.
The firefighter’s hazel eyes drank me in like we were in a nightclub and he was on the prowl.
Stop that.
I moved to them and glared at my son. “Really?”
Rich didn’t look my way. Instead, he ducked behind Mr. Gorgeous.
The hottie extended his arm. “You must be Mrs. Jones.”
Of course, he has a sexy voice.
“I’m Lieutenant Hornsby.”
“Nice to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances.” I shook his hand. “I don’t know why Richard would do something like this.”
“Apparently, it was a dare.” The Lieutenant continued to hold my hand. Warm skin heated mine. I tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let me. “Will Mr. Jones be arriving, too?”
“Why?”
“Department policy says that we explain our volunteering program to both parents, if possible. Is there a Mr. Jones?”
“Yes. There is a Mr. Jones.” Unease began building. “We’re divorced.”
“How long have you been divorced?”
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