Dillon drove his black S-Class Mercedes out of the subdivision and waved at one of their female neighbors. Her husband was CEO at one of the top manufacturing companies in the city, and she was a stay-at-home mom. Dillon had never said more than a few words to her, but he always laughed when he saw her because he could tell she wanted him. Her husband was nearly three hundred pounds, not much to look at, and had to be at least sixty, yet she wasn’t more than thirty-five. Even Raven had decided the woman had only married the man for money and status, and Dillon agreed. She wasn’t Dillon’s type, though, so Mr. Overweight CEO didn’t have a thing to worry about when it came to his wife; not where Dillon was concerned, anyway.
He continued down the street, heading to the church, and turned right at the first stoplight. When he was a child, he’d longed to have a luxury car, and he hadn’t cared which brand. Mercedes, Lexus, Audi, BMW, or Cadillac—he’d loved them all, and he’d told himself that when he became an adult, he’d have one or another. This hadn’t happened, though, until he’d moved to Mitchell and met his dad. And his dad had given him all that money. It had been a dream come true, and one of the first things Dillon had done was buy himself a black Cadillac Escalade just like Curtis’s.
Dillon shook his head, wondering why everything always resorted back to that demon he called his father. Why couldn’t he just wipe Curtis from his mind, the same as his dad was doing with him? It was so tiring and frustrating, and Dillon wished he could punch someone. Right now, anyone would do, except he thought about how silly it was to worry about something he couldn’t control, something he couldn’t change no matter how much he wanted to. It was then that he thought about multiple ways to ruin his dad, and he smiled. He considered one idea after another, but he wouldn’t settle on anything until he knew for sure what would work. He’d tried to get him before and had failed, but not this time. All he had to do from here on out was plan things step by step while also considering the consequences.
He turned on SiriusXM radio, which was already set on the Heart & Soul channel. This was his favorite R&B music station, but sometimes he listened to The Heat if that’s what he was in the mood for. The Heat aired the kind of gangsta rap music most pastors probably didn’t listen to, and he was sure many in his congregation, including some elders, wouldn’t understand, either—well, except maybe Vincent, of course. But Dillon liked what he liked. He also wasn’t a fan of gospel music, the way some would have expected, but he kept that to himself. The reason: He’d once heard his dad say that anyone who didn’t like gospel music was either a lukewarm Christian or not a Christian at all. Dillon didn’t abhor gospel music, and there were actually a couple of songs he enjoyed, but he couldn’t see listening to it daily the way some folks did.
He bobbed his head to one of Charlie Wilson’s songs until his phone rang. His administrative assistant’s name and number displayed on his dashboard. He pressed the large control down in front of the center console to activate his car speaker.
“Good morning, Miss Brenda, how are you?”
“Good morning, I’m doing well. And what have I told you about calling me Miss Brenda, young man?”
“You know how I feel about that.”
“Yeah, and you know I feel, too. I understand and appreciate the way you respect me as your elder, but I still work for you. ‘Miss Brenda’ doesn’t sound all that professional, and I keep trying to tell you that.”
Dillon laughed because they’d been going back and forth about this the whole time she’d been with him. It was their own private little joke. “Well, I’m sorry to disobey you, but I can’t help it.”
“Anyway,” Brenda said, dismissing him, “how are you?”
“Can’t complain.”
“That’s for sure. We’re all much too blessed for that. But hey, the reason I’m calling is to remind you that I have a doctor’s appointment this morning. So I won’t be here when you arrive.”
“Oh, okay. I didn’t remember, but you know it’s fine.”
“I just didn’t want you to wonder where I was, and I also left your updated calendar for today and tomorrow on your desk. I added a couple of phone calls you need to make because two of our members were just admitted to the hospital yesterday.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, and thanks for alerting me. But more important, are you okay?”
“Yes, just having my annual checkup.”
“Good. Well, I’ll see you this afternoon, then?”
“Yes, and maybe even before noon.”
“Okay, then.”
“Thanks, Pastor.”
“You’re welcome.”
When he pressed the button, he smiled again. Brenda Dawson always made him feel better about everything. At first, he hadn’t been all that open to hiring a woman who was old enough to be his mother, but Raven had made it clear that he wouldn’t be hiring anyone close to his age. She’d talked about all the stories she’d heard about pastors and their secretaries, and how she wasn’t dealing with that kind of nonsense. Now, though, he was glad he’d hired Miss Brenda, who was twenty years his senior, because she treated him like a son. Miss Lana, his dad’s administrative assistant, regarded Curtis the same way, and it was interesting how Dillon unintentionally walked in his father’s footsteps in many areas.
He sighed when he realized he was thinking about his father again, and flipped through his radio channels. He didn’t want to hear the song that was playing, so he searched for something else. When he landed on a Christian talk station, he turned it again. But then he frowned when he thought he’d heard his dad’s voice. He was sure he couldn’t have, but he turned back to the program to see. He listened to the male host asking another question, and to Dillon’s dismay, his father was in fact the guest.
“Well, I think one of the saddest things I see are phony Christians,” Curtis said. “And since I used to be one myself, I can spot them a mile away. Even when they seem near perfect.”
“That’s interesting, and I agree with you,” the host said. “It really bothers me when people play with God.”
“Yes, and even sadder are men and women who claim they’ve been called by God to minister when they know they haven’t. In many cases, God hasn’t told them anything, yet they decide on their own to become ministers and pastors. And they do it just to make money. Or like in my case when I first became a pastor in the Chicago area, I really was called, but I also loved the way my occupation attracted women. Many of them threw themselves at me and were willing to do anything I wanted. Anything to be with a pastor. At the time, I had about three thousand members, but even pastors who have less than a hundred can usually sleep around with as many women as they want. I was young and dumb, but it still doesn’t excuse my actions. I made bad choices, and it’s the reason I try to mentor and warn other ministers when I can.”
“It’s great that you’re so transparent,” the host said. “This is the reason I wanted to have you call in, and if you’re willing I’d love to have you back.”
“I appreciate that, Jacob. I’d be glad to.”
“So do you meet pastors like this all the time?”
“Unfortunately, I do, and I’m ashamed to say that I know one of the young men very well. He lives right here in Mitchell. And in his case, he’ll do anything to get what he wants, and he has no moral values. He even once had a fiancée who he treated like an animal, and he slept with his own brother’s wife. He’s also done things to other family members, yet he has a pretty sizable congregation.”
“Hmmm,” Jacob said. “That’s really too bad.”
Dillon nearly missed seeing the red light and slammed on his brakes. His face tightened, and he squinted his eyes. His father was actually on national radio, criticizing him publicly? It was bad enough that Curtis wanted nothing to do with him, but now he was going too far. He hadn’t said Dillon’s name, but everyone in Mitchell and most people nationwide knew that the Reverend Curtis Black had a son who was pastor of a church and that they lived in the same city.
When the light changed, Dillon stepped on the gas, flying down the road in outrage. But the more he drove, the more he slowed his speed…and then he smiled again. He hated this man, but oh, was his day coming. After this, Dillon would make paying his father back his top priority. He wouldn’t be satisfied until the deed was done. His father had overstepped his bounds, and it was time for Dillon to stop him—it was high time for Reverend Curtis Black to see that his son wasn’t some punk. Dillon was his firstborn child, and he would make his dad regret the day he ever met him.