What Lies Between The Sheets Read online

  Note:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Benjamin Moody Jr. for

  BE’N ORIGINAL ENTERTAINMENT

  270 Main Street,#65

  Poughkeepsie, New York 12601

  For Information regarding special discounts or bulk purchases, please contact UMA Marketing (646) 405-4812 ext 1001

  Library of Congress Catalog Card No: In publication data

  ISBN: 0984401709

  Copyright: © 2009 by BE’N ORIGINAL ENTERTAINMENT

  What Lies Between the Sheets

  Written by: Yusuf Al-Rahman

  Edited by: BE’N ORIGINAL

  Associate Editor: Sa’Rese

  Copy Editor: Sierra Johnson-Moody

  Text Formation: BE’N ORIGINAL for UMA Marketing

  Cover Graphics: BE’N ORIGINAL for UMA Marketing

  Concept Design and Layout by: UMA Marketing

  Cover Model: Patricia Medina

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or part in any form.

  DEDICATION

  Everyone has a story unique to their life experiences or observations that has molded them into the person that stands in front of the mirror every day. We laugh and cry based on the things that have been or will become in the future and the one thing that every man, woman, and child has experienced…is love. We use love to relate and care for one another in life and death, and a wasted life is a one without experiencing the beauty of love or ever being in love. To truly love another human being requires that you love yourself and then those around you benefit from the light that shines brightly from within.

  This book is dedicated to those people that have lived, fallen, and rose again from the pangs of love and the scars or impressions that it leaves on the soul. I want every aspiring writer, avid reader, or new reader to immerse themselves in the experience of each character in the story and reflect on what they have to live for and not what they have lost to the long twin rivers of joy and sorrow. We all have our lives to live and set an example of what not to be or what to aspire for. Enjoy this book which is drawn from the things my family, friends, or I have experienced that has changed many lives forever. It was once told to me by a mentor of mine that people come into our lives for a reason, a season or, a lifetime. Let this story and what is taken from it stay with you for all your days.

  THANK YOU

  It takes a village to raise a child and I have many people to acknowledge for the person that I have become and continue to develop into as the days, months, and years roll by. The scholars of old say, “to write, ones pen must be honorable,” and I hope I have accomplished that time old tradition with my approach to writing. There are many things that I am thankful for, and I would be remised if I didn’t start with the lord God by which all things are possible and nothing is possible without. I would like to thank my parents who encourage me at all turns, my wife who had many sleepless nights as I lay contemplating the words of my story, my brothers and sisters who constantly support my dreams, all my loving aunts & uncles that are compassionate and believe in my gift, my young cousin who has been like a brother to me, my publisher Be’N Original who is also my manager/friend, and last but not least…my close friends who have supported me and especially those who helped paved the way.

  Chapter 1: Sparks

  It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in June and the birds were chirping a melody that seemed to awaken the flowers. The sun danced across the clear sky magnifying the color of everything it touched. My name is Jamal Styles and my white suit reflected the paradox of what was really in my mind and heart at that moment.

  I felt like my world had just ended and the only way to cope with this harsh reality was to drown my sorrows at my favorite bar, the Red Anchor. What does a person do when everything they worked so hard for crumbles twice in one year?

  “You okay Jamal?” Johnny; the bartender, wiped the counter off as he looked at me with concern.

  “Yeah… I’m cool… just need a moment to collect my thoughts.”

  “You don’t seem fine. You’re wearing a white suit on a Saturday afternoon with nowhere to go looking like you just buried your dog.”

  “Word? It really looks that bad?”

  “Yeah!”

  I ran my hand across my face in an attempt to wipe off the pitiful look that was being displayed. “I’m just going through some things right now, you know?”

  “I can’t say that I do, but as you can tell from all these empty chairs in here; if you want to chat, I have a little time to talk with you.”

  “I don’t want to bore you Johnny.”

  “Believe me; I done heard it all so try me.”

  “Alright but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I gathered my thoughts, took a deep breath, and began to tell him my story.

  Last year in September, I was the happiest man in the world. There I stood in the front of a church filled with dozens of people waiting to see the joining of Jamal Styles and Sheila Jenkins. I’m a freelance artist; one of the best if you asked me, and I could draw, dream up, or design anything anyone would ask for. Being a graduate of a world-renowned black college, Clinton University, has its perks. Students make life long connections with future friends and possible business associates as well as unlimited access to beautiful women.

  Being a ladies’ man has never really been a big part of my personality. Honesty had always been my policy because that was how I first met Sheila. She used to waitress at this coffee shop on campus; which served as a study hall for the students. One Friday evening I skipped a party to finish up some pictures for my portfolio, and Sheila came over and started a conversation.

  “Nice art work,” she said as she brushed her hair out of her face and pointed at my sketches.

  “Thanks.”

  I noticed she was blushing as she continued to pick up the coffee mugs from the surrounding tables. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy, I just noticed you had been in here for the past couple of days and you always seem so focused; you barely look up long enough to sip your coffee. Determination; I admire that kind of quality in a man.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that, you don’t always hear flattery every day.”

  “I just believe in giving credit where credit is due.”

  I dusted the pencil shavings from my hands and reached for hers. “I apologize, I didn’t get your name; I’m Jamal.”

  Her smile was breathtaking. “I’m Sheila.”

  Sheila was so fine that when you looked at her you couldn’t help but stare at her face and acknowledge her beauty. My eyes were on a crash course as I mentally road the curves of her body. I had to fight myself from glancing too long at her hips and voluptuous breast that screamed good genes or implants.

  Licking my lips I took a chance; “You know, I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Maybe we should go out sometime before school is over and just chill.”

  “I don’t know…” She shifted her weight to her left side and folded her arms.

  “Just dinner and if you don’t like me after that we could go our separate ways.”

  “Where do you want to eat?”

  “Wherever you want to go.” I waited patiently hoping my advances weren’t too forward.

  “Okay… Here’s my number call me tomorrow and we’ll talk more about dinner.”

  “Cool. So I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.” I gathered my things and headed towards the door turning a
round just in time to see her body do figure eights as she walked away.

  I left that coffee shop feeling invincible. Some people can’t see the writing on the wall and that was me. I was too trusting, too self conscious, and I lacked confidence.

  Sheila and I enjoyed the first date so much that we decided to go out every weekend. Our relationship lasted three years altogether. There were two years of heaven but the last year was pure hell. If the devil had an apprentice it would have been Sheila. I spoiled her so much that she began taking me for granted. The things I used to do to make her smile had virtually no effect. The affection she used to give me vanished into thin air.

  She was kind of stand-offish; every time I would try to touch her, she would brush off my advances. That should’ve been a dead giveaway; any man would know if your star player wasn’t getting his turn at bat, then someone else was beating it. Like I said before, I was blind. Eli was the only reason I was able to figure out what the hell was going on.

  Eli was an engineer and one of my best friends in college. He was a pretty boy that had all the girls on campus in the palm of his hand. He was a track star in college with a ripped physique. The product of a black mother and a father that was Jewish and Latino; he had the best of both worlds. Growing up in Queens, New York, his pimp game was to be respected. He constantly warned me that when a woman starts acting out, it was either because of her insecurity or someone else creeping into my spot. An argument serves as a decoy to detract attention from the bullshit that is going down behind your back.

  This made me even more paranoid and sent me into a frenzy which caused me to spoil her rotten. Out of fear of losing her, I actually proposed to her. Actually, it seemed to work because she started acting like everything was fine and I, foolishly, never questioned her about what I feared was going on. Big mistake! Once or twice someone would call with a private or blocked number and hang up. My instincts told me that she was cheating. I chose to not to confront her because I was too afraid of being wrong. I didn’t have any proof. More importantly, I didn’t want her to know that I no longer trusted her.

  Sheila and I were engaged for only three months, and then we quickly decided to get married. Everything seemed perfect. The church was decorated with fresh white lilies; all the bridesmaids looked like models in their strapless peach colored gowns, even the guys looked fresh in their black tuxes with peach silk ties. The church pianist, by request, played the instrumental to Brian McKnight’s “Your More Than Wonderful.”

  The doors opened and she seemed to float on air. Her appearance was so angelic, regal almost. The Ivory color of her gown complimented her skin which seemed to glow underneath the rays of sun that were beaming through the stained glass windows. The pews were filled with our family and friends who had all been anticipating this very moment. I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume as my future wife approached me. I lifted the veil from her face and immediately got butterflies when I saw the tears in her eyes; little did I know they weren’t tears of joy.

  “We are gathered here today, in the house of God, to join these two young people, Jamal Styles and Sheila Daneen Jenkins in holy matrimony.”

  The church grew silent as we began to exchange our vows. This was it. She was finally going to be mine.

  “Do you Jamal take this lovely young woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold for rich or poor, in sickness, and in health till death do you part?”

  “I do.”

  Those words … My words, brought a look upon her face that stopped my heart. Her expression was as if she was facing a lifetime imprisonment of unhappiness.

  “And do you Sheila Daneen Jenkins take this man standing in front of you as your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish for richer or poorer till death do you part?”

  “…”

  Sheila stared down at the floor. She hadn’t made eye contact with me since the ceremony started. The hushed whispers from the crowd began to circulate through the church.

  “I need your answer young lady, you can do it,” the Reverend gently coaxed Sheila to give her answer.

  “I… do.” Sheila didn’t want to say I do; instead she wanted to have the courage to look up at him and tell him the truth. That she didn’t love me and the only reason she had agreed to marry me was so that she could try and forget all her indiscretions. She seemed to wonder why she had gotten herself into this in the first place.

  I knew deep down inside that her response didn’t come from her heart but the pressure of one hundred and twenty people wondering if she was going to make a fool of herself and the man who asked for her hand in marriage… me, forced her to say yes.

  “At this time if there is anyone that has just cause why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  Sheila took a deep breath thinking that everything had gone over smoothly.

  “Well since we got all that out the way, by the power vested in me…”

  Suddenly the doors to the church burst open and a man half ran, half-walked up the aisle. I swear my heart stopped beating as I watched my life fall apart in slow motion.

  “You can’t marry him!”

  “What in God’s name is going on here, son? Who are you?” The reverend looked at me then back at the mysterious guy.

  “Shy what are you doing here?” In a hoarse voice Shelia addressed the man. “It’s over between me and you; we’re done.”

  Shy continued to walk towards the alter oblivious to the hundreds of curious onlookers. “I’m sorry baby, I know I messed up but that’s why I am here so we could work it out and be a family.”

  The word “family” replayed over and over in my mind.

  “It’s too late! I’m getting married to Jamal.”

  The audience was shocked, and all I could do was stand there frozen in disbelief.

  “You could lie to all these people, you could lie to him, and you could even lie to me, but please… Don’t lie to yourself. I love you and I am truly sorry.” His tearful eyes pleaded with Sheila to believe him. Was this the guy she had been messing with? He had smooth dark skin, perfect teeth, he was neatly dressed; a pretty boy to say the least.

  Small beads of perspiration began to line Sheila’s forehead. She looked up from the floor at Shy then at me with tears in her eyes.

  “I don’t want to be a bad father, and I only said I didn’t care because I wanted you to have an abortion. I don’t want to lose you. I was scared but I know I can do this now. I want to be a father to our child.”

  The whole place started to spin before my eyes. Why me? Why couldn’t I move? I stood speechless as I listened to them make a fool out of me. Did he just say something about a baby; an abortion? Was she pregnant? I felt that I had to be dreaming because this shit wasn’t happening to me. Everything in me told me to smack fire out of her and shoot this lame but I couldn’t move. Why couldn’t I move? Was I being punked right now?

  “I’ve felt so lost and alone without you in my life. The last few days have been miserable. I need you.”

  His words were both smooth and honest. I began to really hate this guy for his eloquence and courage. All of this time Sheila had been holding my hand; my heart pumped one last time as all of the blood left my body and she let me go.

  Full of rage, I dashed out of the church nearly knocking the door off the hinges. I caught up to Shy before he could get into his car. I snatched him up by his collar and began choking him as the entire church poured out to help, watch, or try to save his life.

  “Let him go! It isn’t worth it!” Eli yelled as he pried my fingers from around Shy’s neck. He quickly escaped, jumped into his E 540i, and screeched off with my fiancée.

  “Didn’t I teach you better than this?” Eli screamed at me. “Never let a woman get the best of you.”

  “What the hell would you have done then?” I took off my tie and threw it onto the ground. “Do you know how I feel right now?”


  “No, I don’t.”

  “Of course you don’t because I could really kill a few niggas right now!” The guests had begun to filter out of the church and stare at the spectacle that had become my wedding. “What the fuck are you people looking at? Take your asses to your cars and go the fuck home!”

  “Jamal apologizes for the inconvenience but if you all could just leave him alone and give him some space,” Eli tried to smooth things over as my pain began to boil over and out of control.

  Eli grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side.

  “Get the hell off me; I’m a grown ass man.”

  “What the hell are you doing? Those are your family and friends.”

  “Right now I don’t care…”

  “You’re wrong and you know it.”