Risking It All

By Joycedmot

The last three years of Kenya Davis’s love life were rife with false starts and heartaches in her pursuit to get back her ex-boyfriend, Dave. The one bright spot she clung to was her job as a health scientist with the CDC. When she received a promotion that placed her in the field, working with the homeless under the interstate bridge, Kenya saw it as the distraction she desperately needed.
Simon Washington lived a charmed life before his world came crashing down around him. One fateful night full of confusion and heartache sends the once-affluent businessman on the run from the law, leaving behind his wife, a thriving business, and his social status.
Finding Simon, dressed like a homeless man sends Kenya life into a tailspin. Kenya wanted to comfort him, despite the warning bells going off in her head. Was he the dangerous criminal described by the news or the same guy she knew from college? Should she trust the man who fell into her world and crowded everything else out?
Simon felt drawn to the courageous, kind-hearted spirit who refused to protect herself from his drama and accept that her trust in him put her in danger. He had to push her away, but the sweetness of her presence was hard to give up when he needed it so much. There were answers he couldn't give her and a truth he had to keep hidden.
Risking It All follows Kenya and Simon as their worlds collided in an unexpected mash-up of uncertainty and desire. Can they navigate a minefield of emotions and close calls to find and maintain their freedom and maybe even love—with or without each other?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joycedmot
• Release date: Jun 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780978639631

Joycedmot

Joyce d’Mot resides in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and three children. She serves as president of the Women’s National Book Association, Atlanta Chapter. Joyce was born in the United States Virgin Islands and is a graduate of Clark Atlanta University. An avid reader and writer, Joyce believes "There is a way of being that seems right to me. That way includes a little chaos, drama, fun and big emotions." Joyce writes with passion and believes that life put to words is nothing short of magic. Life.Words.Magic.

Book preview

Chapter One

KENYA RECOGNIZED THE pattern well. It would be over soon. She listened as his breath came out in quick pants, reminiscent of the breathing style taught to pregnant women in Lamaze classes. He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head while thrusting into her. Their eyes would never meet, his head would stay buried face first in the pillow and she would stare vacantly over his shoulder. Seconds later, he convulsed with his eyes opened wide, unfocused, before rolling off onto the bed next to her. 

She heard his laugh, followed by a tap to her shoulder. Still too out of breath to speak, he gave her a satisfied grin when she looked at him. She already knew what he would say when he regained his breath. It’s what he always said at some point right afterward, a week later or the next time he wanted her to come over—thanks for that. 

Kenya smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Dave didn’t notice. He never did. She got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. While sitting on the toilet, relieving her bladder, hot tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. When she got back to the bedroom, Dave was already asleep—no surprise. Kenya gathered her discarded clothes, got dressed, and left without a sound. 

She sat in her car, experiencing the usual despair that followed sleeping with Dave. The sex was never bad, it’s not a painful experience. He was a passionate and giving lover, always making sure she orgasmed before he found his release. If she ever allowed herself to be in the moment, she would probably enjoy it. However, Kenya wanted more and Dave did not want to give it.

They used to be more than that. She was once his girl. He used to call her that, my girl. Every time he did, Kenya beamed with pride. Dave was a definite catch—attractive, funny and intelligent, which is why she wanted him then and now. Once upon a time, she was the one who caught him. Three years have passed. Those people no longer existed, but Kenya continued to try to get back what she lost. She looked up at his apartment window, longing for a connection, some glimmer of hope that there would be more. 

I won’t give up, Dave.

KENYA OPENED HER EYES the next morning, her body  sluggish. She turned onto her side and faced the floor-sized mirror leaning against the wall. Taking in her reflection, she sighed. Her tousled hair and swollen lips reminded her of the night spent in Dave’s arms. The memory should cause a glow, like it did several years ago, but how, when she had left his house in the middle of the night and he had yet to acknowledge it? He didn’t care. Kenya shook her head in dismay, pressing her balled fists against her eyes. 

What else can I do? she sighed. Her stomach began growling and Kenya grudgingly rolled out of bed and headed through her living room, toward the kitchen, stopping to turn on the television. She was walking away when her cartoons got interrupted by local breaking news. Kenya stopped to listen.

An APB has been issued for Simon ‘Millennium’ Washington. The twenty-seven-year-old male is wanted by the police for a violent attack on one of their own. Officer Daniel Pace was shot when he responded to a call at the Washington home early yesterday evening. Washington fled on foot. Authorities believe he may be heading north, towards his family. Washington’s wife can be heard on the 911 tapes crying in distress as she recounts how her husband assaulted and ultimately shot Officer Pace. Washington was apparently assaulting his wife when Officer Pace intervened. Washington is well-known in the community. He owns a successful computer company, The Corp, Inc., with his business partner, Christopher Whitten. The graduate of Morehouse College is six-feet, three inches tall and weighs about two-hundred pounds.

The reporter cut to a still picture of officer Pace, dressed in his uniform and smiling. 

Officer Pace is in critical condition. We have been told that Police Commissioner Brazil will be holding a press conference later on this evening. We will pass the details on to you as soon as we get them. Police are asking anyone with information on the whereabouts of Simon Washington to contact them. If he is sighted, please do not approach him. He is armed and dangerous. 

Shut. Up, Kenya said in slow motion, lowering herself onto the couch. Her eyes riveted to the television screen as image after image of Simon Washington flitted across the screen. Kenya’s mouth hung open when pictures of Simon’s wife and their home filled the screen. She ran into her bedroom and grabbed her cell phone and hustled back to the television. 

Are you watching? she asked as soon as her brother, Kenyon, answered the phone.

Yes. This shit is crazy.

I know, right? What the hell happened?

I have no clue. We don’t really hang out like that but I’m sure I’ll find out, Kenyon replied. 

This is so surreal. Call me if you hear anything new. 

Later, Kenyon said. 

Hey, are we still doing brunch tomorrow? 

Far as I know. You know Mom and Dad can't miss the opportunity to dig into your personal life. Be ready, Kenyon laughed. 

Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’ll see you later.

Kenya shook her head as the news report replayed the story a second time. She turned off the television and continued into the kitchen, dazed. Her cell phone buzzed and beeped rhythmically. She was a part of a group chat with some of her classmates, who were probably as blindsided as she. Kenya spent the remainder of the day lazing around her house. The news was dominated by Simon Washington. Kenya shook her head in amazement at the details they discussed. Simon’s life was on full display. Wherever he was, like it or not, he had become an infamous celebrity.

The following day, she sat at the sidewalk cafe with her parents and brother. Her parents were notorious for quick, drop-in visits to share a meal. Both she and Kenyon realized it was more of a reconnaissance mission. Kevin and Kathleen Davis were nothing if not savvy. They tried to keep an eye on their adult children but not in an intrusive way. Didn’t bother Kenya one bit—until it came to talk about Dave. This time though, the conversation was a little different. 

Instead of grilling her about her personal life, Sunday brunch with her parents and brother turned into a debriefing session. Her father peppered Kenyon with questions about Simon’s past, and Kenyon gave the answers as best he could. Kenya sipped on her mimosa and smirked, happy to be off the hot seat for a change. Her mother was just as interested in the newest scandal which meant Kenya didn’t have to talk about her relationship with Dave or lack thereof. Kenyon and her father played junior detectives, their Morehouse pride on full display, as they hypothesized about where Simon could be and what he should and shouldn’t do.

By the time brunch ended and Kenya gave her parents hugs before they headed to the airport, she was ready to go back home and settle in for the day. As she laid in bed Sunday night, she wondered why she still had not heard from Dave. 

KENYA GROANED, WISHING for more hours to sleep when the bedside alarm clock blared. The past week flew by with staggering speed, one day blending into the other. It seemed like she blinked on Monday and now it was Friday already. 

Kenya rolled out of bed and stretched her arms above her head. She looked at her naked body in the mirror. Her hands on her hips, she turned from side to side, cupping her breasts in either hand. You’re holding up well old girl, she giggled. She headed into the bathroom thinking about the day ahead. Most of her day would be spent packing up her desk and moving to the third floor. Kenya prayed for a better week than the last one. Too much of last week was spent brooding over Dave, listening to theories about the missing classmate and trying to figure out how to make her heart stop hurting. 

Kenya stepped into the shower, letting the sprays of the water wash over her head.

The highlight of last week came on Wednesday, it was a pretty big deal too. She had gotten back to her desk after lunch to find a note taped on her computer screen. Please meet me in my office upon your return, Kenya read, recognizing Linus, her manager’s fine print. After a few anxious moments, she headed towards Linus’s office, surprised to find the division chief, Kent Allgood also in attendance. Kenya stood at the door looking at the two men and quaking in her boots. Have I done something egregious? She wondered. Nothing came to mind that would warrant such a meeting. 

Come in, Kenya, Linus said. Kenya walked in and sat down, swallowing down the fear rising in her chest and searching his face for any indication of what was about to happen. She took a deep, cleansing breath, refusing to pass out. If they accused her of anything, she needed her wits about her to defend herself. 

The next words out of Linus’s mouth changed her life. They notified her of her promotion to the team she had been working towards ever since she accepted the job. Come Monday morning, she would work in the field as a field scientist. Kenya walked out of that meeting, head held high, floating on air. She was doing back flips and shouting on the inside while exercising major self control to walk a straight line back to her desk. 

The memory energized her, pushing back her desire for more sleep. Kenya finished her shower and got dressed. She grabbed a yogurt out of the refrigerator before heading out the door, humming a tune. When she got to the office, most of the bullpen area where she sat was already cleared out. Along with her, five of her co-workers were moving to the third floor to form the new field team. Kenya grabbed the available bankers boxes and began filling them. An unexpected wave of nostalgia came over her as she packed the pictures and files off of her desk.

She loved her job, the agency and everything it represented. During senior year of college, when everyone began looking for jobs, Kenya sent out five resumes on the advice of her counselor. She never followed up on a single one but the one she sent to the CDC. Kenya heard all the crushing stories of how hard it was to get even an email acknowledgment, let alone an interview with the CDC. So, when she got a call back and then a job offer, it was like Christmas.

The opportunity to work on the field services team was the ultimate goal. She and Dave had talked about it, he had encouraged her to keep applying for the position after her first two rejections. Now that it happened, she didn’t have the chance to share it with him. Kenya had tried to reach him all week. Rumor had it, he was seeing someone who lived out of town. 

SATURDAY MORNING ARRIVED, bringing sunlight streaming through the window. Kenya welcomed the day with arms stretched above her head and her eyes blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the morning light. 

Oh geeze, Kenya groaned.

Saturday mornings usually involved lazing around in bed until hunger forced her to get up. She would get up, just long enough to make herself breakfast, take it back to bed and turn on cartoons. No other items usually made the agenda. Today however, it would not be so. She had errands to run  to prepare for tonight. Tonight would not be about her. No celebration of her promotion was planned. Her joy was tempered by the Simon Washington scandal. Ever since it happened, it was all anyone in her circle talked about. And tonight, she expected the talk would be in overdrive.

Kenya turned off the alarm with a quick flick of her thumb and rolled out of bed. She stretched her arms above her head, yawned, and tried to flatten her crazy hair as she walked towards the bathroom. She shook her head in disbelief. Simon Washington shot a cop, she thought over and over. Kenya brushed her teeth and was spitting into the sink when a Skype call sounded on her computer. She hopped toward it and answered the call. 

What up, Vanessa? she answered, drawing out the syllables of her friend’s name long enough to annoy her. 

My mother named me Va-Nes-Sa. Got it? What are you wearing tonight? If you say jeans, I swear to God, I will come through this computer screen and pimp slap you, Vanessa warned. 

Kenya giggled at the scowl on Vanessa’s face. I have no idea what to wear, V. Doesn’t seem like it matters, so..., 

You don’t know that it won’t either, Vanessa cut in. Just in case, you need to look less like Red Cross and more like Lord and Taylor’s. Please wear a nice summer dress and some high-heeled sandals. Are your toes done? Go ahead and plan for a stop at the nail shop. And wear perfume. Last time I saw you, you smelled like grass. 

Kenya chortled in amusement. Grass? Damn, V. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel? 

I’m just saying. You need to step up your game if you expect Dave to pay you any attention. Although I disagree with you chasing after him, if that’s what you need to do, then I support you. But do it right. 

Fine. I’ll pull something together that should please you. Okay? Kenya drawled. 

Ugh. Whatever. Oh, last thing. Please, for the love of God, shave your legs and your underarms. You look like a beast. Smooches, Vanessa said signing off.

Kenya laughed and pushed away from her computer. Vanessa is a character, always had been. They lived in the same dorm, across the hall from each other. Vanessa was the girl who hooked up everyone’s hair and nails. She was the fashion critic and diet guru. She did not care about world peace or global warming. Her concerns trended more toward how soon she would get a new Gucci bag or what the hottest fall colors would be. Vanessa drove their dorm’s residence director’s life crazy. There was always a Vanessa incident to discuss during residence life meetings.

Kenya would never forget the day Vanessa painted her dorm room pink—blazing hot pink, every wall. The residence assistant almost blew a gasket when V opened her door for the mandatory room check. Somehow, Vanessa persuaded them to allow her to keep it that way. And she did, well, just until Purple Haze days started. Vanessa decided that for a solid month she would only wear purple and her room had to match her mood. Kenya chuckled at the memory. 

She stared down at her toes and laughed again. The chipped polish of a four week old pedicure looked back at her. 

A pedicure is not such a bad idea, she acknowledged. Not that Dave will notice. 

She gazed at his picture on her dresser and the familiar sadness settled in the pit of her stomach. She messed up and lost the best thing that ever happened to her. 

Dave and Kenya met freshman year in college. He played on the basketball team and she was a cheerleader. By sophomore year, she had the biggest crush on him. It had taken her weeks to get up the nerve to talk to the co-captain of the basketball team. 

When Kenya did, she discovered that Dave was fun, but a level headed thinker. He was the perfect person to bounce ideas off of and get real advice. He gave Kenya a kind of confidence she didn’t feel with anyone else. His presence in her life seemed necessary. Outside of her family, he became her first safe space as an adult. They became inseparable—until senior year. Something changed. Suddenly, time together didn’t seem like a priority for Dave. He partied without her, spent most of his spare time with the guys, and was out of town it seemed like every other weekend. Kenya tried talking to Dave about her feelings. But those conversations often led to arguments. 

After a while, Kenya stopped saying anything. She stopped asking for more time with him. She stopped waiting for him to want to spend time with her. Kenya had her own fun.

Her fun led to Kenya cheating on Dave. The dalliance only lasted a few weeks, and Kenya regretted it—bad, bad decision. She told no one. The guy attended another school and was just as glad as she was to keep quiet about their dalliance. He had his own complications to contend with. Kenya tried to put the affair out of her mind and focused on trying to regain Dave’s attention. 

The semester was winding down and graduation events revved into overdrive. Neither she nor Dave had that much time to spare or spend with each other, between studying for finals, completing internships and doing everything necessary to walk across the stage on graduation day.  

A week before graduation, Kenya was sitting at a table outside of the library when she got a text from Dave asking where he could meet her. Excited at the prospect of spending a little time with her man, she gave him her location and waited. A few minutes later, Dave took a seat across from her. 

Hey, Kenya smiled. She leaned toward him for a kiss. He didn’t reciprocate. 

Jeremy Banks.

Kenya’s heart fell into her stomach. Tears welled up in her eyes. 

Dave, it was nothing. It meant nothing. I haven’t, I haven’t talked to him in months. 

You mean you haven’t fucked him in months. 

Dave, please. I’m so sorry. I don’t care about him. I never did. 

So you fucked someone you don’t care about? Shut up, Kenya. That makes you sound like a whore, Dave said, walking away. 

The relationship ended that day but Kenya was stuck. It didn’t matter that Dave had moved on and dated other women. He’s even been in long-term relationships. It also didn’t matter that he didn’t always return her calls. Kenya believed there was still a part of him that wanted her. 

Whenever an opportunity arose to see him or spend time around him, Kenya took it. It was sometimes a painful choice. When Dave flirted with other women or arrived at functions with a date on his arm, those are the moments that threatened to bring Kenya to her knees. 

Despite the love lost between them, Kenya still thought of Dave as her friend. They still enjoyed each other’s company. His opinion still mattered. Kenya still sensed a strong connection to him in those rare moments when Dave allowed them to communicate. But that’s all it ever was, rare moments. He did not entertain the conversation about something more between them. Kenya thought he was still angry, and, once he got past his anger, the love between them would surface again. Dave denied that theory, saying instead, Everything happens for a reason. It was time for us to move apart. Kenya begged to differ.

Kenya recognized Dave had all the power in their complicated relationship. She gave it to him. She became his beck-and-call girl the day he found out about her cheating. Whenever he called, she answered. But more often than not, he didn’t call and she would mope and her heart would break all over again. Kenya kept up the same dance with Dave, hoping that one day things would change, despite everything she tried in the last three years not working. 

Vanessa presumed Dave needed a healthy reminder of what he was missing. Kenya doubted the strategy would work. Dave never concerned himself with what she wore.  Plus, being a fashionista didn’t come as easy to Kenya as it did for Vanessa. 

Whatever the complete opposite of a diva was, would describe Kenya. A pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes made up her daily wardrobe. Getting cute, to Kenya, meant replacing her T-shirt with one of her many tank tops and switching her tennis shoes to sandals. Makeup was not on her agenda either, and, had it not been for Vanessa’s constant harassment, her hair would remain in a ponytail year-round. Kenya didn’t do perms because her natural hair suited her just fine.

But she took care of herself in the ways that mattered. She ate right and exercised often. Her svelte body was toned and curvy in the right places. She was also a big sun whore. She loved to lay out