Chapter One
Trinity
Although it was a bit breezy and chilly, I leaned against the rail of my terrace in my silk pajama set. My long, silky hair hung loosely, lightly caressing my face as it blew with the morning air, and the sheer serenity of the moment brightened my mood. My arms were riddled with chill bumps after a crisp but refreshing winter breeze kicked up, so I rubbed some warmth into them with my hands as the sun began to peek out beyond the horizon. I never grew tired of admiring the morning sun bursting onto my beautifully landscaped back yard, especially not from the terrace of my estate home in Evanston on the North Shore of Chicago, which was one of the most elite areas, if not the most elite area, in all of Illinois. Even after six months, the view still amazed me, just as it did the first time I had seen it.
We were a hell of a long way from the hood-nigga lifestyle we had been living. Our renovated Victorian-style mansion was a house that I could never even dream of having. It was situated on six acres of land. Terrence had purchased the eight-bedroom, six-bathroom home with family in mind. Aside from the normal features of our home, it boasted amenities such as a theater room, a library, an office, a small home gym, a basketball court, a pool and pool house, and a four-car garage. Our neighbors were CEOs and high-powered executives, and our kids were in private school with their kids. Career-wise, I’d enrolled in an online college and opened up my own art gallery, where I sold a lot of my own personal sketches as signature collections, and Terrence became a real estate investor.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kincaid,” I heard as I felt two arms wrap around my waist.
I took a moment to enjoy the feel of being in Terrence’s arms, then turned around. “Good Morning, Mr. Kincaid,” I replied and kissed my husband.
“How is my lovely wife doing this morning?”
“Why, I’m lovely as always.” I beamed.
“Do you ever get tired of watching the sunrise?” Terrence asked, pointing out into the horizon.
Lifting my arm up, I wrapped my fingers in Terrence’s dreadlocks. “Nah,” I said as he kissed me again.
“Keep pulling on my locs like that, li’l mama, and I’m gonna take you back to bed and give you a reason to hold on to them,” Terrence said suggestively.
“I don’t have a problem with that. I love to please my husband.”
Our passion took over as we kissed on the terrace. Soon, both our pajama pants were down around our ankles, and Terrence lifted me up to make love right there on the ledge.
“Fuck! I want you so fucking bad, li’l mama,” he moaned.
Freeing his thick erection from his boxers, I slid my hand up and down. “Take it,” I commanded him.
Terrence wasted no time, sliding my lacy panties down. Just as we were about to connect, I heard a familiar sound. “Wanhhhh!”
“No, no, please no,” Terrence whined as he buried his face in my chest.
“I’m sorry, boo. The baby calls.”
Standing, I pulled up my underwear and pajama pants. While Terrence regained his composure, I walked into our bedroom to turn the baby monitor off and then, he joined me in the hallway, and we walked across the hallway to our baby’s nursery.
“Hey, son. You couldn’t wait just five more minutes, huh?” Terrence said, picking up our two-month-old baby boy, Tyson.
“And if that was all you were gonna give me, then my li’l Ty-Ty did his mama a big favor.” I laughed as Terrence stood there rocking the baby.
He leaned over and kissed me. “I’m a heavyweight. All I need is one good punch and you’ll be knocked out,” he joked.
I burst out laughing as I grabbed the baby’s blanket and turned off the monitor in the nursery. “Your cocky ass is too much! Come on. Let’s head down to the kitchen so I can warm up his bottle. Your son’s appetite is increasing.”
As we walked out of the nursery to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but stare at Terrence as he held our son. I couldn’t believe just how much Tyson looked like Terrence. Our other two children, Brittany and Terry, were split down the middle between Terrence and me, but not Tyson Jahmal Kincaid. He was definitely his daddy’s spitting image, so I was so thankful that I had gotten away from Pooch before he was born. One look at Tyson and Pooch would have known, without question, that his son was really Terrence’s son.
Part of me thought of Pooch and felt sorry for what he was going through. I’d been following his case via the news and learned that he’d gotten double life without parole. That seemed like far too long for any man to pay for his transgressions. Don’t get me wrong, Pooch did some fucked up shit. Selling death on the streets to little kids’ mamas and daddies and people’s children was low, but at the same time, you had to blame the junkies, too. None of these niggas in the street would make money if people just said no to that ignorant shit. One thing a drug dealer never had to do was beg for a customer, recession or not.
Then, I thought about his sleazy ass with those skank-ass strippers. That wasn’t illegal or anything, but it did degrade women. He even had my homegirl Lucinda dumb in the head enough to be employed at his establishment. What kind of man would hire your best friend to strip at his club? I’ll tell you what kind, a nigga like Pooch. Now, that was low, but it didn’t constitute prison time.
There was other shit, too, like murdering those young cats and only God knows who else over the years. Nobody’s life was worth taking for any reason. My theory is if you didn’t give them life, then you don’t have the right to take it. Yet, in a way, I still felt sorry for Pooch because he was never one of these thugs that fucked with anybody as long as you didn’t step to him or his family or mess with his money. So basically, any dude bad enough to tangle with Pooch was gambling on cheating death.
Maybe that’s why I insisted that we live in a gated community and permanently change our last names to Kincaid. When Terrence and I moved from Atlanta after bringing down Pooch and his organization, Terrence wanted to take on his dad’s last name of Warren, but I refused out of fear. I just knew Pooch would track us down. So, we ended up taking on Terrence’s maternal grandmother’s last name of Kincaid. I didn’t want any mishaps. Even though Pooch was safely situated behind bars in federal lockup, I still felt unsafe at times. It’s almost as if I could hear him taunting me from inside the prison. Sure, I was a long way from Atlanta, in a neighborhood that his ghetto ass would never think to look for me, with a different last name, yet I still worried about Pooch catching up with me—us.
Terrence sat down next to me at the breakfast table as I fed Tyson.
“What’s on your mind?”
Looking up at him with a smile, I fibbed, “Nothing.”
“Liar.” He chuckled.
“I’m just happy—”
He interrupted me. “You were thinking about Pooch again, weren’t you?”
“I can’t help it, Dreads. I feel so disconnected with the world back home. We left everyone and everything we knew and loved in Atlanta. Even though I know Pooch is locked up, I feel like I’m still a target. It’s what I don’t know that bothers me.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I know,” Terrence said, pulling his chair in front of me and placing his hands on my knees. “I know that I will never allow anyone or anything to hurt you or our children. So, you don’t have to worry about Pooch or nobody else. I got you, and when I say I got you, I mean it.”
“I know. It’s just—” I began just as our nanny, Consuela, arrived.
“Buenos días, Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid,” she sang, halting our conversation.
“Good morning, Consuela,” we greeted her in unison.
“I see little Tyson is up early for his feeding.” She smiled as I placed him on my shoulder to burp him.
“Ain’t he always?” I laughed. “This boy ain’t missing no meals.”
“He’s a growing boy. He needs all the meals he can get,” she said. “Well, I am about to start breakfast for the other kids. Would you like anything in particular for yourselves?” Consuela asked.
“Actually, no. I am going to treat my wife out to a special day of shopping and relaxing, so we’ll get something while we’re out,” Terrence said, smiling at me.
“Dreads! You didn’t tell me that we were doing anything today.”
“I know. It was a surprise.”
Consuela smiled at us. “I love to see two young people so much in love. You have a wonderful husband, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“Aww thanks, Consuela,” Terrence said as he hugged her. “Well, we should get the kids dressed so we can drop them off at school. I’ll send them down for breakfast as soon as they’re done, Consuela.”
“No problem, Mr. K. Breakfast will be ready when they get down.”
I put the baby back in his nursery and turned on the monitors. On my way to the kids’ rooms, Terrence grabbed my arm, pulled me in our bedroom, and locked the door in one swoop.
“What are you doing? I have to get the kids dressed.”
“It’s only seven o’clock. They don’t have to be to school until eight-thirty.”
“So?”
“Sooo.” He chuckled, pulling me by the waist and pressing my body close to his rising erection. “Let me show you how good my five-minute bout is,” he joked.
I bit my bottom lip and kissed him. “This better be one powerful punch.”
In one swift motion, his pants were at his ankles, and his luscious member was standing at full attention. “I’m already ready to knock it out the box,” he said with a seductive grin, and that is exactly what he did—in a record four minutes!
Moments like this made me forget the hell I had endured while living with Pooch, and I was determined that I would never go back to that life again. It was a hard decision, but I decided to let go of my fear so that I could fully enjoy raising my kids and being Mrs. Terrence Kincaid. Terrence had proven over and over again that he would take care of me, and now it was time to breathe, relax, and enjoy all my new life had to offer. For the first time, I could honestly say I loved my life! And that was the shit I would remember from now on.