Secrets In Love

A Novel By,

YVONNE BENNETT

©2019 Published by After Hours Publications, Inc.

All rights reserved.

Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 17+

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PROLOGUE:

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10 years ago

Thick weed smoke swirled around 21 yr old Baby's red, 2008 Chevrolet Camaro as he and his homeboy, Rico, cruised down Main St. It was 10:35 at night in Tampa, FL and the boys were just getting started. They were currently headed to Club Skye to chill, then they'd probably hit up the trap house after they were done.

Where you get this shit from, breast? This don't taste like Malik shit. Rico asked as he hit the blunt.

Baby smirked as he kept his eyes on the road.

That's 'cause it's not. That's my shit. Baby relayed, making Rico's brown eyes grow wide.

When you started growing? the skinny, brown-skinned man asked.

Nah, I gotta connect. I couldn't keep smoking Malik shit. Dude sells nothing but sticks and stems. Baby laughed, showcasing his dimples.

Shid, you need to hook me up with ol’ boy number then, cause this shit good as fuck. Rico chuckled as he took another hit of the blunt before passing it back to Baby.

The sound of Tupac's 'All About You’ blasted through the car as the men went silent, enjoying the scenery of the moon reflecting off of East Boulevard housing projects. As Baby pulled up to a stoplight, he and Rico noticed two crackheads arguing.

Aye, roll the window down. Rico sniggered as he tapped Baby's leg.

Baby rolled his window down as he inched the car forward.

Why is you tripping, man?! I told you I know where to get some at? The taller of the two junkies said, talking with his hands excitedly.

I'm not just gon’ give you my money, partna, and I don't know where you going. I gotta come witchu. The stout crackhead said back, attitude heavy in his voice.

Dawg, you tripping. I can't just bring anybody to that man's house. The other replied, looking fed up with the exchange.

Aye!? Baby called out, catching their attention. What y'all looking for? He asked them as he jerked his head, motioning for them to come to the car.

I need a dime, and he looking for a 35. The tall rockhead walked forward, pulling out a small, crumpled up stack of ones.

Baby nodded, then leaned back in his seat and stuck his hands down his True Religion jeans, pulling his stash from under his nuts. He took out a small rock and handed it to the rockhead in exchange for the crumpled ones. Once the fat man saw that the deal was legit, he walked over and handed Baby his 35 dollars. Baby counted the money out, then nodded.

While Baby went back in the bag, Rico kept a lookout. There were no cars behind or in front of them. They were straight. Baby finished giving the man his dope, then stuck his stash back in his boxers. Pulling off, he opened his center console and threw his 45 dollars inside before closing it. As Rico and Baby headed deeper into the downtown area, they started noticing people hanging around outside the projects drinking, smoking, and playing music.

A thick redbone caught Baby's attention as she walked down the sidewalk.

Aye! He called, licking his lips as he hung out the window.

The girl looked at him and rolled her eyes.

Fuck you, too, bitch! Baby jerked his neck back at her reaction and kept driving.

Man, forget that hoe. She acting like you asked her to suck your dick or sumthin. Rico sucked his teeth as he fired the blunt back up.

For real, dawg. Baby shook his head. Rico passed him the blunt, and he hit it.

Another fine ass woman walked by, and Baby eyed her up and down. His hold on the blunt loosened, and it fell on the floor of his Camaro.

Oh, shit! He yelled, leaning down to pick up the blunt before it damaged his floor rugs even worse than it already had.

Aye, Baby, watch out! Rico screamed in terror, causing Baby to sit up and put his foot on the break quickly, but by then it was already too late.

The front of the car hit something hard, the impact causing the sound of feminine wails and metal to ricochet through the night air. Baby got his bearings straight then looked out the windshield. The sight before him made his eyes go wide, and his stomach churn.

Shit... He just hit a kid...A lil girl, at that.

Aw, damn, Baby.. Rico whispered as he stared out the windshield in fear.

You just... Rico couldn't even get the words out as he noticed movement.

Baby and Rico fell silent as the small body in front of the car started to jerk and wiggle. The small child sat up with big, fat tears in her frightened eyes as she clutched the pink and purple bicycle that lay on top of her lower body for dear life. She looked down at the wreckage then back up at the car. Her eyes caught Baby's, and her chest started to flutter up and down. When Baby realized who he had hit, he was about to shit himself.

Man...You just hit Baby D daughter! Pull off, pull off, pull off. Rico chanted frantically, causing Baby to put the car in ‘reverse’.

He pulled back then switched gears and speed off. Looking in the rearview mirror, Baby felt his heart beating a mile a minute as he looked at Lil Baby D on the ground. Putting his attention back on the road, he tried to vanish the events that just happened a few minutes ago.

He couldn't believe he had fucked up like this.

CHAPTER ONE:

Ten years later

Aye, Lillian! Table four is ready to pay!" 20 yr old Lillian Shaw rushed from the back of the diner as one of her fellow Waffle House waitresses called her name.

Limping to the register, she smiled at the couple in front of her that was offering their bill. Taking the bill from them, she quickly rung them up and gave them their total. The duo thanked her then left.

What you was doing back there, girl? Shittin? Cleo, another Waffle House waitress, asked as she came to stand by a snickering Lillian.

Why you gotta be so nasty, Cleo? I wasn't even using the bathroom, I was calling my school to cancel my nursing class. I don't think I'm going to be able to make it tonight, especially with my back hurting the way it is. Lillian relayed, placing a hand in the middle of her achy back and grimacing.

Girl... you know you an old-ass lady, that's why you always be hurting Cleo sucked her teeth jokingly. Lillian threw her a tight smile, hiding her disdain from Cleo's comment.

I'mma start getting your ass some Bengay. Lill rolled her eyes as Cleo continued.

Reaching under the serving counter, Lill cut the sink on as she ignored Cleo and began collecting the dirty plates that sat on top of the counter. Dumping the plates, spoons, cups, and forks into the sink, Lillian began washing them, humming softly to herself. The bell over the entrance chimed, and Lill looked up to see a young white man stumbling in. He tripped over to the counter, putting on a show as he climbed onto the stool. Lill paused what she was doing and sighed. She was used to drunkards filling up the Waffle House on Friday nights since the diner was close to downtown and the projects. Lill was so glad that she wasn't going to class tonight. Her backache and upcoming headache wouldn't be able to handle a bunch of rowdy CNA students. Plus, her bad leg was killing her. 10 yrs ago, when she was riding home on her bike, she was involved in a hit and run coming from a friend's house.

Even though Lillian remembered the color of the car, she couldn't recall who had hit her. This small fact caused a Domino effect in the projects and the surrounding hood. Lill's father, DeAndre Shaw, was a big dope boy back in the day and when he heard about what happened to his daughter, anyone that was rolling around East Boulevard in a red Camaro, or red car in general, was stopped and questioned with a pistol to the dome. Even though DeAndre was that man in the streets, Lillian's Mama, Tina Williams, didn't play either. She spent Lillian's entire stay at the hospital interrogating anyone that was near Main St and Franklin Ave during Lill's hit and run. The accident took a lot out of Lillian. She couldn't attend dance classes anymore or ride her bike like she use to. On top of that, Tina stopped letting her spend the night with other kids. In a sense, the accident took a piece of Lillian's childhood away, but it didn't entirely stop her from enjoying her childhood.

Her friends came and visited, and her father was always stopping by with a present or gift during her time in her cast. Once her cast came off, things weren't exactly back to normal, seeing as how Lillian had to attend physical and mental therapy sessions.  The only reminders of that night Lillian had were her slight permanent limp, trouble sleeping sometimes, and a small scar on her leg.

Hi, my name's Lillian, and welcome to Waffle House, Lill said as she limped over to the drunk white man.

She grabbed a menu from under the counter and set it in front of him.

What would you like to drink? Lill questioned, not even bothering to take out her notepad.

I just... I just... the man repeated as he looked as if he was having a hard time holding his head up.

Lillian furrowed her brow and crossed her arms at the scene.

I just...w-want a stash of chocolate chip pancakes. H-How much is that? The man slurred, digging in the left pocket of his skinny jeans.

Do you mean a ‘stack’ of chocolate chip pancakes? Lillian corrected as she took a cautious step back.

The wasted man pulled out a hand full of change, a majority of pennies, and dumped it on the counter. A pancake meal is 4.50 plus tax. If you want the pancakes separately, it'll be 2.75 plus tax. Lillian relayed, watching in disbelief as the man began counting pennies and nickels.

Whew, Lawdy. L-Listen, I have 89 cents. What can I get for that? The man looked at Lill with deep, reddened eyes.

A glass of water, Lillian answered, causing the man to furrow a brow.

Why? He asked as if he were deeply confused.

Because 89 cents isn't enough to pay for a meal, sir. I can give you a glass of water or a fountain drink, free of charge, but I can't give you a pancake meal. I'm very sorry. Lillian apologized as she followed diner policy.

So, you're telling me you can't serve me?! The white man protested loudly, causing Lillian to shout for the manger.

Shondra, a big, heavyset black woman rocking a pineapple pixie cut, came from out the back of the diner with her hands on her hips. Lillian quickly pointed at the disgruntled man at the counter, and Shondra walked over to him.

Is there a problem, sir? Shondra acknowledged in a professional tone.

I say there is. T- This bitch doesn't want to serve me! The man angrily expressed.

And why is that, Lillian? Shondra turned to Lill.

Because he only has 89 cents and wants a pancake meal. I offered him a glass of water or a fountain drink, but he doesn't want it. Lill answered, and Shondra nodded.

Sir, I understand that you're hungry, but we can not serve you if you don't have money for your meal. As my employee already said, we can offer you a drink but not any other food items. If you don't want a drink, then I advise you to leave because you're creating a scene. Shondra advised, and the white man looked as if she had insulted him.

I don't w-want anything from this ghetto ass diner anyway. Fat black bitch! The man cursed.

Sir, if you don't leave this minute, I will be forced to call the police on you, Shondra told him in all seriousness.

The man's nostrils flared, and he suddenly knocked the salt and pepper dispensers and hot sauce bottles that were sitting on the diner counter, onto the floor.

That's it! Shondra rushed behind the counter to