Guilty of Love Read Online Free PDF

Before she could open her
mouth, another woman beat her to the punch.
    “ Girl, can you believe her
nerve? Calling my man while I was right there—”
    Frowning, Cheney listened and realized
the lines were crossed on a party line. “Rainey? You hear
that?”
    “ Who is this? Get off my
line,” the woman ordered.
    “ Hello? Sorry, but we were
on this line first,” Cheney informed her.
    A loud burst of gum popping preceded
the voice of a teenage girl. “Listen…” and she began throwing out
profanity and without a click, the two were gone.
    “ Don’t sweat it, happens
all the time,” Rainey said then added sarcastically, “That’s our
new millennium phone system at work. Just think, I pay for that
premium service every month. Usually after a heavy storm, I use my
cell phone. The land lines are so unpredictable.”
    Was his remark aimed at her directly,
or the phone company that employed her? She made a note to look
into the problem on Monday. Someone must be tapping into Rainey’s
phone line, or have access to his outside phone box regardless of
the company’s lock; or maybe heavy downpours were deteriorating his
phone lines.
    “ So, to what do I owe this
call?”
    She heard him sigh, but ignored it.
“You feel like hanging out?”
    “ Can’t. I’m going to the
Juneteenth celebration this evening.”
    “ Yeah, that’s right. Are
you still with…” Cheney paused, racking her brain to remember the
girl he was in love with before she moved to Durham, “Shanice!” She
grinned, pleased with herself, considering she was more than out of
touch.
    “ Shanice and I split years
ago.”
    “ Oh, well, I’d love to go
with you.”
    “ Sorry. I’ve got a date.
You wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”
    Strike two. She didn’t need a third
strike to be out. “No, no I wouldn’t. Well, have fun.”
    “ Will do. Thanks.” Rainey
disconnected.
    She considered going to the festival,
but somehow a crowd would only make her feel lonely. As Cheney set
the phone back in its holder, she took a look around her house. It
wouldn’t be hard for her to find something to do, but she had to
start getting out. If not, her palace would become her
prison.
     
    ***
     
    Parke was dreaming about the house on
Benton Street when a buzzer startled him, but before he was fully
awake he dreamt he heard his mother say, “Don’t dismiss your
thoughts while sleeping. Your dreams could be telling you something
about the future.”
    He chuckled at the absurdity of the
statement. There was nothing on that block that could be part of
his future. When his doorbell buzzed again, he dragged himself out
of bed. In the bathroom, he quickly washed his face and brushed
teeth at the same time. A trick he learned as a kid when he got up
late for school. After stepping into sweatpants and putting on a
T-shirt, he hurried down the stairs.
    Opening the door, he wasn’t surprised
to see his younger brother leaning on his doorbell without any
regard. “Knock it off, Malcolm. I’m not deaf. What’s
up?”
    “ Thought you might be up
for a whippin’. Name your poison—slam dunk or one-on-one,” Malcolm
Jamieson challenged, wearing a cocky grin and workout clothes. He
thrust the ball into Parke’s chest.
    “ You’re trying to kill me,
ain’t ya?”
    “ Yep.”
    “ Where’s your better
half?”
    “ Thanks for asking.
Hallison’s at the beauty shop.”
    Parke smirked. “And I bet you’re like
a lost puppy without your woman. Judging from your bulging biceps,
you’ve probably already been on the court for hours.” Malcolm’s
weightlifting regimen made his body appear thicker and heavier than
Parke’s.
    Identical facial features, including
long noses and dimpled smiles, mirrored the brothers. Each sported
short, wavy jet-black hair and thick silky eyebrows. Whereas Parke
wore a long, thin mustache; Malcolm preferred a well-groomed beard.
Ladies often mistook them for Rick Fox of the L.A. Lakers. The
youngest brother, Cameron, was