Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance)

BOOK: Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance)
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Two Sides to Every Story

Dyanne Davis

Genesis Press, Inc.

Indigo

An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

Publishing Company

Genesis Press, Inc.

P.O. Box 101

Columbus, MS 39703

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

Copyright© 2007 Dyanne Davis

ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-551-0

ISBN-10: 1-58571-551-4

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition

Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0

Dedication

This book is dedicated with all my love to the men in my life: William Davis Sr. and William Davis Jr.

You’re both heroes.

To Cassandra Boozer, with much love.

May your every dream be fulfilled.

Acknowledgments

As always my acknowledgments begin with God. I give my thanks to my Creator who has given me everything that I possess, for reminding me every step of this journey that You are indeed in control. I thank You for each breath.

I want to acknowledge the readers. No writer is complete without readers, so thank you very much. Your loyal support is priceless.

To all the different people who checked my Spanish, I thank you all for your different wordings and different meanings (smile): Fatima and Iris Gomez and Wendy Byrne.

Jackqueline Jackson, my sister and friend, thank you for your continued support and love.

As always I have to thank Sidney Rickman, the world’s best editor. What can I say to you that I have not said a hundred times in the past? You make the editing process a thing of magic. I know that you go above the call of duty in your editing. I want you to know that I know it, and I appreciate it, and you, from the bottom of my heart.

To loyal friends, none of this journey would be so joyous if you were not cheering me on.

To all the ladies at Windy City Romance Writers of America. I am proud to have been voted in for a second term as your president. I hope each and every one of you realizes your dreams. You’re an extremely talented group of women.

To Jackie Wallis, Adrienne Maynard and Theresa Steven, you are the most exceptional board in all of RWA, I’m sure, and I’m proud to have served with all of you. Thank you.

To the Genesis Press family, thank you for giving all of my characters a home. To Deborah Schumaker, thank you for all that you’ve done and for your understanding during difficult times.

Chapter 1

“You will meet a woman of fire and ice, a woman you will love always, one you cannot live without. You will perish without having her love.”

Raphael laughed at the prediction but he remained seated out of courtesy. The old woman was a friend of his family and his godmother, his
madrina
, but Raphael didn’t believe in fairy tales, nor did he believe in
el decir de fortunas
—the telling of fortunes.

“I know you don’t believe me,” the old woman smiled. “It’s there in your eyes.”

Raphael attempted to protest but she stopped him. “Is not necessary for you to believe. It will happen.”

Raphael continued smiling, feigning interest. He wasn’t looking for a woman. In fact, a woman was the very last thing he either needed or wanted in his life. He was a Chicago cop; loving a woman could get him killed. It was better for him to not have that burden. In fact, he thought the department should make a rule: Cops are forbidden to ever fall in love. He thought the reasons were obvious. Cops endangered the public and themselves when they did, not to mention the person unfortunate enough to receive their love.


Raphael, listen to me. Your mother has told me of your foolish wish to never fall in love. Love is about to find you. Soon, Raphael, very soon.”

“Don’t I have any say in the matter?” he joked.

“No.”

“No. Why not?”

“Because this woman is the other half of your soul.”

“How do you know I have a soul?” he asked quietly. He’d had one when he first joined the police department, but he didn’t know if he still possessed it.

“It’s in you, Raphael. And you will have to fight to get it back where it belongs, in the light, just as you will have to fight for this woman’s love.”

“If she’s my soul mate why will I have to beg her to love me?” He felt his jaw tightening. “Beside,
Titi
, I don’t beg, and especially not for a woman to love me.”

“Don’t
auntie
me. You will beg this woman.”

“I will not.”

“You will.”

Raphael was tiring of the game and of the old woman. “Tell me, why will I beg her?”

“Because she will hate you. She will hate you with a hate so fierce it will stop your heart.”


Then why the hell would I want her? Excuse me,
Titi.
I didn’t mean to swear, but why would I want a woman that hates me?”

“Because when she learns to love you, she will love you with a fire more powerful than the ice with which she hates you. Her love will stop your heart but it will also restart it again. She will be true to you till death.” The old woman smiled. “That is, if she discovers that she loves you. If she doesn’t she will be the one to seek your death.”

“Thanks,
Titi
,” Raphael said, rising from his seat. “I think I’ll pass. The one thing I know for sure is that I don’t need is a woman who wants to kill me.”

“She’s beautiful, Raphael, and she’s your soul mate.”

“I don’t care. A beautiful Puerto Rican woman who will love me if she doesn’t kill me? No thanks,” he laughed and walked away.

The old woman watched him leave, a knowing smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. “I never said she would be Hispanic, Raphael,” she half-whispered under her breath, deciding not to tell him. He didn’t believe her anyway. He needed to learn a lesson the hard way.

* * *

“License and insurance, ma’am.”

“What did I do?” Angela asked, her eyes blazing. She refused to adjust her defiant stare, not caring that her manner alone might annoy the man. After all, it didn’t take much to antagonize the Chicago cops.

“Sixty in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone.”

“God, I hate this!”

“Then I would suggest that you don’t speed.”

For a long moment Angela looked at the officer, her dislike of cops coalescing in this one man. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the trembling begin to wrack her body, knowing she was about to do something stupid.

“My insurance card is in my dash and my license is in my purse. If I move to retrieve them, are you going to shoot me?”

She saw the officer blink. A look of surprise came into his eyes and then a mask fell over his face.

“Why would I shoot you?”

“Why are citizens shot every day in Chicago for no reason?” She glared at the officer, challenging him, her gaze unwavering. When his demeanor remained unchanged, she frowned in surprise.

“License and insurance, ma’am.”

Angela reached for her purse and held it toward the officer. “I’m going to open it,” she said. “I don’t have a gun.”

She knew her unspoken accusation was angering the man. She’d seen the way he’d visibly stiffened.
So what?
If it wasn’t for the Chicago Police Department, her brother wouldn’t be sitting in Statesville Penitentiary on trumped-up charges.

Angela retrieved the wallet and slipped the plastic-coated license out and handed it over. She fished her cell phone from her purse and punched in a number, her eyes never leaving the man’s face.

“Simone, I’m on Damen and Cermak. I’ll be a little late; I was stopped for allegedly speeding.” She glanced once more in the officer’s direction, this time a little more intently.

“I’m calling so you can listen; I want a witness in case I end up on the evening news. I’m cooperating and being extremely pleasant.”

She knew what was coming before it did. She heard the sigh and for just a nanosecond she thought she saw hurt in the cop’s eyes. So what? Her gaze swung to his name tag. Rafe Remeris. What the heck was an Hispanic man doing with green eyes?

“Your insurance, please.”

His tone indicated he was losing patience. She could continue and cause a scene, get arrested, thrown in jail, but at this point that wouldn’t help her brother. She had to find the woman who could help him. With any luck she’d also find the cops responsible and make them pay.

“I’m reaching into the dash for the insurance card,” she said into the phone. “I don’t have any weapons. I’m cooperating.”

She fished the card out, handed it over and snatched her hand back when his fingertips touched hers. “What did you do to me?” she screamed. “You shocked me.”

She searched his hands for the cause. She’d seen nothing in them before and didn’t now. “He shocked me,” she said into the phone.

“Lady, calm down. I didn’t do anything to you. Give me a minute to check your plate. Stay in the car,” he said firmly, and walked away.

“Angie, are you there?”

Mesmerized by movements of the cop, she was slow to respond. “I’m here.”

“What did he do to you?”

“He touched me.”

“Touched you? Where? Did he try and feel you up, what? Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

“He touched me. He touched my fingers and it shocked. Now my skin is burning where he touched me.”

Angela kept her eyes on the cop as he walked to the patrol car, got in for a minute, then came back to her. She swallowed when she noticed the officer’s hand resting on his gun and fear swept over her. In a flash her mind flew to the latest reports of police shootings of civilians, then to her brother, and she wondered if this was how he’d felt. She moved several inches away from the open window and readied herself. The phone that was at her ear slipped.

“Here’s your ticket. You can pay it or you can go to court. The date’s on the ticket.”

Angela’s heart caught in her throat. She could almost breathe again. He wasn’t going to shoot her. “I’m going to court. I’m going to fight it.”

“That’s your right. You have a great day now and take it easy.”

For one long lingering moment Angela remained still. There was something about that cop that had taken her aback and stirred a feeling of unease.

* * *

Raphael Remeris was shaken. He got back in his cruiser and kept his eyes on the woman as he started backing away. The woman’s words, ‘you shocked me,’ still rang in his ears. The tips of his fingers also tingled from touching her. He rubbed his hand over the leg of his trouser. The tingle had turned to a mild burning sensation.

A fist twisted in his gut as he remembered what his
madrina
had said to him. If he ever met a Puerto Rican woman who so obviously hated him as much as this Black woman did, he would run as fast as he could to get away from her.

Of course he’d known what game the woman was playing. The department had been taking a beating for quite awhile now. Sure, there were lots of cops in the department that used deadly force but he wasn’t going to second-guess them. No one knew until their own life was on the line how they would react.

Raphael had felt compelled to escape the fury in the woman’s eyes by returning to the squad car and had written the speeding ticket there, finding the need to close his hand into a fist and shake it out before being able to complete the task. His skin still tingled from the contact with the woman.

A sense of danger had overwhelmed him as he walked back toward the woman’s car. He’d actually switched the ticket to his left hand and positioned his right hand on the butt of his stun gun, just in case.

He didn’t spook easily but he had been spooked by that woman. Her extreme dislike of him seemed so personal and so intense that it had permeated the very air that he breathed. Her hatred had nearly stopped his heart. He wondered how many people out there loathed him so much that it could affect him as intensely as this encounter had.

This surely was not what he’d expected when he’d made his decision to join the force. He’d done it to gain respect, to help, to not be a bum. But respect was the last thing he’d gotten on the job. He’d been spit on, kicked, hit, cursed, called every name in the book, just because he wore a badge. But never in the eight years that he’d been on the force had he ever felt the revulsion as much as he had today. Raphael hoped he never would again.

Once again the old woman’s prediction came to him. Maybe this woman was the precursor. He imagined all of the fire of a Latin woman combined with the ice of the woman to whom he’d just issued a ticket, and he shivered.
Fire and ice
.
What a hell of a way to start the day. Only blocks from the station
, he thought, as he continued his patrol.

* * *

Angela sat in her car until the officer drove away, then let out the breath she’d been holding. She wondered what had made him put his hand on his gun and what had kept him from pulling it. She could even now smell her own fear surrounding her. But it wasn’t the very real fear that he would shoot her. It was more personal, as if he would destroy her life in some other way.

“Angie?”

She’d almost forgotten she still had Simone on the line. “I’m okay. I was just harassing the cop.”

“But you were screaming. Did he use a stun gun on you? Did he really shock you?”

Angela realized how silly that sounded. The man had had no weapon, just his hand. She rubbed her fingers together. The slight burn was fading. She wondered if her own prejudice had created the electrical energy.”
Stun gun?
She’d never thought of that.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “It’s just…I just got back from the prison and I wasn’t in a mood to be stopped by the cops.”

“Were you speeding?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking down but I’m going to fight it anyway. I don’t like being harassed.” She ignored the fact that she’d just confessed that she was needling the cop. He deserved it, she didn’t.

“Are you still moving on Saturday?”

“Yeah, I need to live in the neighborhood to find out what happened. Eventually someone will talk.”

“You don’t have to live there to find out what you want to know. Besides, your parents hired an investigator. He’s trained. Why don’t you allow him to do his job?”

“It’s not his brother in jail. He doesn’t care about Adrian, I do. I’m going to do everything in my power to get him out of there.”

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not too late,” Angela screamed at her cousin. How would you feel if it were Trae instead of Adrian? Maybe you can not care since it’s your cousin and not your brother.”

“You know better than that. I love Adrian. But maybe I can see things a little more clearly. He’s not an angel, and neither is Trae.”

Angela winced. She knew her brother wasn’t an angel. She’d long feared he was involved with things he shouldn’t be. But she’d let it go when he would smile at her and tell her not to worry, that he could take care of himself. But now he wasn’t saying that. He was begging her for her help. Her tough-as-nails big brother had had tears in his eyes when she left him. And he’d begged her to hurry and get him out. She had no choice but to follow through with her plan.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game. You could get hurt. You don’t know anyone and you’re deliberately putting yourself in a known Hispanic gang territory. You’re Black, Angela, not Hispanic, and you don’t even speak Spanish. How do you hope to do anything but get yourself killed?”

Angela wanted to tell her cousin that if she was so worried about her safety maybe she should join her, be her roommate. But what her cousin said made sense and she didn’t really want to endanger anyone else with her plan. She didn’t even want to endanger herself. But if she lived in the neighborhood where Adrian had been accused of the crime and where he’d been beaten, maybe she’d find some answers. She knew for sure the Chicago police didn’t care about finding out the truth.

“Everyone does what they have to do,” Angela said. “He’s innocent.”

“How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“He’s my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t lie. I hate what happened to him also, but I know there’s more to what happened than what he’s admitted to. There’s always another side.”

“Not in this case. In this case there is only one side I’m worried about and that one is Adrian’s. He wouldn’t lie to me, not about anything this important. I believe him. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He has a right to be wherever he chooses and so do I. I want to know what happened.”

“And if the same thing happens to you?”

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