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  U. E. Wynn

  Copyright © 2018 U. E. Wynn

  All rights reserved. No part of this material may be reproduced or altered in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the writer.

  ISBN 13: 9780463604090

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Cover designed by Dynasty’s Cover Me Book Covers

  www.facebook.com/dynastys.coverme

  DEDICATION

  This book goes out to my Uncles; Shawn Wynn, Mike Wynn and Jimmy Wynn. My grandfather, James Wynn, may you rest easy O.G. My great grandfather Eddie Enoch, rest easy commander in chief. Thank you for molding my character and laying the foundation for my morals and principles. I will forever be grateful to each and every one of you and I shall not let you guys down!

  U.E. Wynn

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  U.E. Wynn

  A self-educated, business savvy, humble entrepreneur was counted out at a young age by his peers, teachers, and family members. After enduring life altering events that would destroy and/or diminish any individual, he chose to overcome and excel. He turned what would be deemed a negative into a positive. He reevaluated himself and reclaimed a positive position within society.

  U.E. Wynn is the founder of 501C nonprofit, Save a H.O.M.I.E. Inc. and an active activist within the community. He continues to assist disenfranchised youth, feed and clothe the homeless and bring forth literacy to the illiterate. Wynn also helps in providing a positive, productive and social atmosphere for the youth to unwind and enjoy themselves throughout the Carolinas via events, concerts and parties.

  This is Wynn’s second novel presenting you with a page turning, nail biting, exotic read.

  PROLOGUE

  There was a severe storm warning for the Tristate area and Matthew Baker left his job a little early to get home to his wife and children. The cold winter night air flowed like an arctic blast coming through the city as he stepped from the building. Looking around, he saw how quickly the snow was beginning to pile up.

  “Shit,” he cursed, digging his Timberland clad feet into a fresh bed of snow.

  The snow was falling harder than it was a few hours ago and all he wanted to do was get home to his family. He shuffled to his car as fast as the snow allowed and shoved the key into the door. He practically dove into the car feeling the biting cold work through his coat. After starting the car, he sat there shivering letting the engine warm up a bit.

  Waiting only about five minutes, Matthew was ready to start the twenty minute ride across town. He was bone tired after completing a double shift at work. The only thing that he wanted to do was get home, eat really quick, shower, and then curl up under the covers for the next two days. He was looking forward to the much needed rest and quality time he was going to spend with his two boys on his days off.

  The music from the car’s speakers played Keith Sweat’s “Make it Last Forever” during the stations quiet storm mix. Humming the words of the song, Matthew came to a stop at the red light. He was only three to five minutes from the house and he was anxious to get there. The light turned green and he pressed the accelerator to go, but when he did, the front tires locked and spun out from the snow and black ice. The locking of the tires simultaneously with the acceleration of the gas, caused the car to lurch forward and spin out of control.

  Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, Matthew braced himself as he tried to gain control of the car. He jerked the car left, then right, panicking from the confusing turning.

  “Fuck!” he shouted as the car spun around repeatedly heading in the direction of a pole. Pressing down on the brake seemed to make the car move faster and slide even closer to the pole.

  Realizing that he was about to have a head on collision, Matthew reached for the driver’s side door handle to open the door. He opened the door, but was unable to roll out because he was confined by the seat belt. Trying to unsnap the belt from his body quickly, the car hit the pole, and the belt tightened up across his chest and neck. Because the strap was so tight he was unable to breathe and the front end of the car was crushed pinning his legs beneath the dash.

  Mathew’s breathing became shallow and faint. He struggled with the strap around his neck, but it only got tighter. Being cut off from air caused a tear to roll down his face. Knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to escape his certain fate, Matthew closed his eyes and allowed flashes of memories to flood his thoughts. He saw visions of his wife Gloria, and his two boys, Malik and Brandon. He was able to smile as he saw the birth of his son’s, his wedding day, and all the many wonderful things that made him whole.

  As he reminisced, he could hear in the background the sirens coming in his direction. However, help was going to be too late today. Opening his eyes, he saw the end looming in front of him as the pole, already wobbly from the crash, came down on the windshield. The force of the pole caused the top of the car’s hood to collapse on his head. Less than minutes from his home and family, Matthew’s life was extinguished. He would not be returning home ever again.

  ~~~~

  Around two in the morning, a pounding knock jolted Gloria from her sleep. She rolled over to tap Matthew, but he wasn’t there. With a twisted frown, she sat up in bed and drew a silk robe around her body. She walked over to the window to peek outside when she saw the flashing red and blue lights.

  “Why in the hell are the cops at my door? And where is Matthew?” she asked aloud, shuffling down the hall.

  Gloria whipped the door open and stared at the officers for a few moments.

  “May I help you?” she asked, drawing her robe tighter around her body to ward off the chill.

  “Sorry to bother you, Ma’am, but are you Gloria Baker?” the officer asked.

  She looked from one officer to the other. Something was eerily amiss. Where is Matthew, she wondered, hesitating to respond.

  “Yes… I’m Gloria Baker,” she said and nervously swallowed.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you that your husband was in a car accident and…”

  “Oh no,” Gloria screeched. “Is he alright? What hospital is he in?” Her left hand shot up to her mouth and her eyes widened in fear.

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but your husband didn’t make it.”

  All of Gloria’s worst nightmares became a reality. She sank to her knees while tears drenched her face. The officers tried to console her as she screamed her husband’s name. Her knees buckled and the officer dropped down to the floor with her.

  His mother’s wailing woke Malik from his sleep. He quickly ran down the steps and saw the two officers in the doorway, the cold air freezing the foyer of their home.

  “Ma?” he called out, confused when he saw her kneeled down on the floor crying. “Ma, what’s going on?” he asked.

  “Matthew!” she continued to cry. “Why?” Her sobs were uncontrollable, her words barely coherent.

  “Where’s Daddy, Ma? Please, tell me what’s going on?” Malik walked over and got to his knees beside her. He pulled her from the officer and wrapped his arms around his mother.

  She clung to his chest and cried harder. Malik had a hard time understanding what was happening, so he just rocked his mother back and forth. The officers presented their regrets once more and closed the door, leaving the two of them there alone. Since it wasn’t a homicide, there was
no reason for them to stay.

  Soon, Malik was crying, too. He didn’t know why, but to watch his mother fall apart made his heart hurt. Finally, she regained her composure and looked her oldest son in the eyes. She wiped her eyes and stood up.

  “Go and get your brother,” she whispered.

  “What happened to Daddy?’ Malik asked, but she walked away heading towards the kitchen.

  Malik did as he was told. Wiping his tears, he went to wake up his brother, Brandon. He placed his hand on his shoulder as they went into the kitchen where their mother was sitting at the table. Her robe was hanging off of her shoulder and her eyes were bloodshot red.

  “Sit down,” she ordered softly.

  The boys looked at one another as they took seats across from their mother. She stared down at her trembling hands and played with the edges of the placemat in front of her. She swallowed hard and then cleared her throat. Looking up at her sons, her heart was pounding. How was she going to tell them that their father was dead? How was she going to tell them that they would have to live the rest of their life without him? She took a deep breath and tried to speak.

  "Boys, your father..." Her words were swallowed with tears and agonizing sobs.

  "He's dead, isn't he?" Brandon asked.

  She looked at him through her tears and slowly nodded her head. Brandon's eyes sweltered with anguish. His fists balled into tight knots and his chest heaved up and down. His father was dead. He will never see him win the Science Fair Award or teach him how to catch like he’d shown Malik. He promised to teach me how to catch too. How could he have broken his promise?

  Malik hugged his little brother, trying to comfort him as his own emotions surfaced. He would have to learn to be a man without the one person he admired the most. How can I be a good man like him if he’s not here to show me?

  The family sat there, huddled together with nothing but their sobs filling the quiet room. They were all equally heartbroken over the death of Matthew Baker, and their family would never be the same afterwards.

  Two weeks later…

  The casket was closed and covered with a beautiful floral arrangement. A few pictures of Matthew had been blown up and were scattered around the pew. Gloria thought it would be best to have a closed casket because Matthew didn’t look like himself when she went to identify his body. The car had caught fire and the majority of his bottom torso had been burned. Not to mention the pole that came down on top of the car had crushed the left side of his body.

  She and their two boys sat in the front row at the small church they attended weekly led by Pastor Daniels. Most of the people there were from their congregation and the rest were family and friends. Brandon laid his head in her lap blankly staring forward while Malik sat close with his arms wrapped securely around her shoulder. Gloria dried her eyes with a handkerchief and stood when the Pastor called her name.

  “God is Good,” she said and lifted her bible towards the seated mourners.

  “All the time,” some of them responded.

  “My husband,” she started, a tear sliding down her cheek, “worked day in and day out to make sure that me and our kids were well taken care of. I don’t know why the Lord saw fit to call him home so soon, but I do know that he was a man of his Word and that he is up there having a party with his Momma,” she said and smiled softly.

  “He was always the life of the party, with a big smile and a big heart. That’s what I will remember and you should too. My sons and I will like to thank you all for coming from the highways and byways to help us say a final goodbye to Matthew and…”

  “Goodbye!” Malik sprung to his feet. “I don’t want to say goodbye to my father. Not yet, Ma!” He ran over to the casket and lay both of his hands down on top of the black lacquer casket. His young shoulders shaking from the force of holding in his sobs. “This ain’t fair! I want my father back!” Malik yelled with such force that most of the people broke down and began to cry. The anguish in his voice touching their very souls.

  Gloria stepped down and rushed to his side. It was the first time Malik had really showed grievances since the night she told them about Matthew’s death. He was trying to be strong for his mother and brother, but his heart was in pain. He squeezed his lips tightly while clenching his teeth as he sobbed. His tears dropped onto the flowers and left dark, wet stains on his suit.

  “I’m never going to see my father again,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “Oh, my baby,” whispered Gloria softly, holding him to her bosom.

  A few family members went over to assist them back to their seats. They took a moment to get themselves together so the service could continue. A few minutes went by, and soon Brandon and Malik were watching quietly as they loaded the casket into the back of the hearse. Gloria and the boys got into the limo and Mathew’s money hungry sisters and brothers climbed in with them. Gloria slid a pair of shades onto her face and stared out of the window for most of the ride.

  “Well, Gloria,” Mathew’s eldest sister Sheryl started first. “I know you got a nice piece of change.”

  Gloria didn’t say anything out of fear that this would become a double funeral. She didn’t care that her sister in law was right about the money. There was a one-hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy in place for Matthew. It was enough to pay off some bills and ensure that they lived comfortably for a while. Gloria hadn't worked since they were married and that’s how Matthew wanted it. He allowed her to live a lifestyle that she was going to miss. But one thing was for certain, his family would never get any of the money from his insurance policy.

  “I know she hears me talking to her,” Sheryl said to their brother Barry. “She always acted like she was better than us anyway.”

  “Leave my Momma alone,” Brandon interjected.

  His aunt cut her eyes at him. “Stay in a child’s before…”

  “Now, watch it,” said Gloria, pulling the shades from her face. “Don’t say anything to my sons. You got that?”

  No one said a word seeing how Gloria’s whole body was tense and she looked like she meant business. Since nothing else was said, Gloria calmed herself and placed her hand in Brandon’s. Soon, the car came to a slow stop and the driver stepped out and opened the door for them.

  She watched as everyone began climbing from their cars making their way over to the plot that would be Matthew’s final resting place. A light mist began to fall looking like a cloak of tears surrounding them. With Malik and Brandon by her side, Gloria walked that long walk across the soggy grass to say goodbye to her husband, lover and friend.

  Standing in the front of the grieving guests, the Baker family was there paying their respects. Gloria rocked from side to side while holding Brandon, who sobbed uncontrollable. Malik, the now appointed man of the house, sat there with a face of stone. All he could think about was how he had to fill his father’s shoes and make sure that his family would be alright. In his mind, he knew he would honor his father by being the rock his mother and brother needed.

  Everyone’s attention fell on the woman that made her way to stand by the Pastor. Their solemn faces watched as she lifted her head and began to sing. Her voice was strong and comforting as she bellowed out the words to Amazing Grace. The words of the song touched everyone, and the mist coming down only solidified that a good man was going to meet his judgment on the other side.

  It was now time to leave Matthew to rest in peace. The funeral director signaled to the people that the burial was about to commence. Throughout the crowd silent cries could be heard and people began to make their way back to their vehicles. Now, all but Gloria and her sons remained. The three of them stood in unison and walked to the edge of the plot and watched as the ditch-diggers began their job.

  As each man dug their shovel into the ground and brought up dirt, they threw it on the casket as it descended six feet into the earth. Gloria threw her white rose on top of the casket as a trail of tears fell slowly down her face. Grabbing his mother’s hand,
Brandon looked up at her and held her gaze. They were lost for words, so they simply embraced and shared their sorrow together.

  Malik looked to his right and saw his mother and brother hugging, and his heart melted with the pain of losing his father, and hero. He stepped closer to the edge of the plot to have a private and brief conversation with his father. He breathed in deeply and released it slowly.

  “Pops, I can never fill those size thirteen shoes of yours, but I’m going to try. I’m glad that we were able to have fifteen years here together. You took care of us, but now I’ve got us. I love you Pop and I’ll be back soon so we can talk again.”

  After speaking his heart to his father, Malik was now ready to take his place as the man of the house. Standing straighter than before, and feeling as if his father was smiling down on him, he walked over to his mother and brother.

  “It’s time for us to go. He doesn’t want us crying like this.”

  He grabbed his mother’s hand and she grabbed Brandon’s. The three of them walked away from the cemetery to face their new world, with Malik leading the way.

  CHAPTER 1

  Two Years Later…

  “Malik!” Gloria yelled from the kitchen. “Malik!”

  Malik shoved his notebook under his pillow and hopped from the bed. “Yes, Ma?”

  “I’m about to leave for work. I left dinner in the oven. Make sure Brandon finishes his homework, you hear?” She looped her purse on her shoulder and looked around for her keys.

  “Okay, Ma.” Malik sighed.

  “What’s the matter with you?” She looked at him curiously.

  Malik sat down at the table and looked down in his lap. “You’ve been working all these long hours and we still don’t have a lot of money.”