Bullet to the Heart of the Matter

By Veronica Ross Holley

When drop-dead gorgeous Victor walks into a room, the air changes. He is every womans manand he knows it. Unfortunately, his charisma does not prevent him from carrying the weight of the world on his two broad shoulders. No one really knows Victor, including himself.

Victor has always had a way with women. When he runs into Priscilla Freeman late one night in a local bar, he woos her straight into bed, not realizing that she thinks she has just found Mr. Right. Her biological clock is ticking, and she wants a baby more than anything. But what she does not know is that Victor is hiding a monumental secret that may just prevent him from ever becoming the man she wants him to be. Despite Victors long absences away from her life, Priscilla soon discovers her dream has come trueshe is pregnant with his baby. Nine months later, Lil Victor is bornand his father still has no idea he has a son.

In this compelling tale lust, love, and lies surround a man who realizes that he must reconcile with his past in order to move forward into the future to become the manand fatherhe has always wanted to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781462083305

Veronica Ross Holley

Veronica Ross Holley was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland where she met her husband of forty-five years. An enthusiastic and devoted advocate for children, she hopes that no child will ever have to carry the heavy burdens that their parents inadvertently place in their lives.

Book preview

Bullet to the

Heart of the Matter

Veronica Ross Holley

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

Bullet to the Heart of the Matter

Copyright © 2012 by Veronica Ross-Holley

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4620-8328-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-8329-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-8330-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011962700

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 02/13/2012

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Dedicated to my mother, Julia Vashti Ross-Freeman, who said, Do as I say, because a hard head makes a soft …

Preface

As an advocate for children, the author wrote this novel to bring to life the many problems that creep into the lives of children and adolescents due to no fault of their own. Sometimes the language used to describe their predicaments is harsh; however, it is needed to allow the reader to actually take a journey down those paths that many children cross as they get tangled in the webs woven by their parents. If after reading this novel, and one father or one mother, whose story is told in Bullet to the Heart of the Matter, is able to prevent a child from carrying the heavy burdens that parents sometimes inadvertently place upon them, then this novel has served its purpose.

Chapter One

For the past twelve years, Victor and William met at Frank’s Place on Fridays after work. This particular bone chilling Friday was no exception. William always arrived first because after work his next stop was always somewhere where he could chill with his favorite girls. Victor, on the other hand, had runs to make. The six-degree temperature outside had no impact on the heat inside of Frank’s Place. The Place was always jumping. Couples and singles enjoyed the romantic atmosphere of this spacious, but comfortable lounge and dinner spot. Dance couples held each other close and swayed sensuously to the rhythm. Carroll and Reggie, regular patrons, felt at ease while dancing to the never-ending sultry sounds of every jazz artist that ever lived. The fact that Carroll and Reggie were gay did not cause mass hysteria at Frank’s. The patrons respected and genuinely loved them. While Reggie was quiet, Carroll knew how to please a crowd with dance moves that nobody dared to challenge. Anyway, this couple could care less about what others felt. They loved each other and nothing else mattered.

When Victor walked in, a spell seemed to come over the place. He was gorgeous, extra dark, and everything about him was handsome. He glanced over to the usual cluster of tables that were snuggled in a corner and spotted his pal, William. There he was with his nose buried in the face of a better than good-looking ebony female.

Sweet as all get up and go! Victor’s favorite words to describe lovely Black women. Whoa, partner! Come up for air, Victor coaxed as his eyes continued to inspect every inch of the curvy young lady who was also eyeing him.

Ah, damn, Vic! William blurted. Your timing is perfect. That’s why we’ve been friends so long. You’ve always been Johnny on the Wrong Spot! Sit your ass down!

Sorry, man! Victor apologized. Should I back up and come in again? Say, in about two hours!

Just sit your ass down, Man! Don’t even try to recover now. The damage is already done. My lovely lady friend and I were just beginning to get acquainted before you so rudely interrupted, William jokingly reprimanded his pal. Just sit down and try to be quiet for once in your life.

Hi, my name is Tara, William’s date volunteered.

Wait a minute, beautiful lady! I’ll do the introducing. You just sit back and continue looking beautiful! By the way, Vic, this is Miss Tara Frazier. Tara meet Vic, the ugliest man this side of Baltimore.

Please to meet you, Vic or is it Victor? Tara softly purred, liking what she was seeing.

My pleasure, and you, beautiful lady can call me anything you please, Victor responded, trying to raise the hair on William’s back, while continuing to flirtatiously eye Tara. Victor was having a hard time understanding what this elegant woman saw in his best friend. And why is she with William? he thought to himself. He knew that his friend only dated married women and this exquisite looking lady did not appear to be married. No rings on the finger and no rings around the eyes. Tara was perfect and Victor wanted her badly.

We were just talking about you, Tara added.

Oh, really! And what could the two of you have possibly said about me? That maybe I died, Victor responded sarcastically.

Victor, you are so funny, Tara chuckled.

No, we didn’t think that you had died, but we did wonder what was taking you so long, William added.

As usual; the shower, the shave and body lotion, Victor responded while trying not to show that he was really, really liking very much what he was seeing in Tara.

Come on, man! You still using body lotion? As black as you are, ain’t no kind of lotion gonna help that body, William joked.

That’s OK! All of us beautiful Black people can’t be as rosy and pretty as you are ol’ William, with your half-ass white self! Victor continued.

OK! You can cut that shit out! Ain’t nothing white about me cept my teeth and I’m desperately trying to cover them with gold, William snapped, while smiling at the same time, trying to show every tooth in his mouth, half of which were really gold. Tara and Victor burst into laughter as William did his famous impersonation of Louis Armstrong.

A white Louis Armstrong, Victor laughed. Ain’t this some shit!

Come on, man. Order something to drink. Waiter, give my main man some service, William yelled causing other patrons to stare. Just turn your behinds around. Ain’t nobody talking to y’all, William flippantly responded to their stares.

Most of the patrons there were regulars. They knew each other quite well and the bantering was all a part of the evening fun. As Victor ordered his famous scotch on the rocks with two cherries and a pinch of lemon, he glanced quickly around the lounge to check out the other patrons … same old, same old.

Wait a minute! Who in the hell is that? Victor exclaimed as his eyes rested on a well-developed female dressed in a form-fitted red sequined mini dress. Somebody pinch the shit out of me! Victor screeched.

Calm down, Vic, man! That’s Priscilla! William explained. He knew that Victor liked playing the field, and every now and then, William tried putting the brakes on for Victor.

Priscilla Who? Victor asked, ignoring William’s disapproving facial gestures.

You know, man. Priscilla Freeman, Shirley’s daughter.

Man that ain’t Shirley’s daughter. I ain’t seen a back like that since I was in Ms. Power’s third grade class! That female has an ass on her. Victor remarked forgetting that a lady was in their presence.

Watch your mouth, Vic, Man! We have a female amongst us, William reminded his care-free pal.

Pardon my excitement, Tara. Lost it for a minute. Would the two of you excuuuuuse me for a minute or maybe an hour? Victor asked as he continued to stare at Priscilla’s back.

Man, sit down, William urged. Priscilla is young enough to be your daughter!

Well, we’ll see about that, Victor said while leaving the table to approach Priscilla.

Vic, man, you’re sick! William added jokingly.

Victor worked his way through rows of tables and patrons to get within kissing distance of Priscilla. Priscilla, who was not Miss Innocent America, frequented places like this … always on the prowl, looking for Mr. Right, someone to marry and take care of her. Within moments after their informal introduction, Priscilla and Victor strolled across the dining area to the dance floor where Victor swept her off her feet. He always had a way with women. His way!

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Around 4:15 A.M. the next morning, Victor woke up. Realizing that he was not in his own bed, he panicked until his eyes quickly glanced across the king size bed that provided him with fifteen minutes of sheer pleasure during the night, and there laid the back of a woman with the ass that caused him to lose touch with reality.

Lie back down, handsome, Priscilla urged. It’s Saturday morning. Black men who look as good as you usually rest on Saturday mornings to prepare for Saturday nights.

Yeah, but…uh, uh, you see, I, uh, gotta work, Victor stuttered nervously. I work on Saturdays!

But can’t you call in just this one time, just for me, Priscilla pleaded. I know we just met, but please stay. She was sure that Victor was Mr. Right. She could feel it in her bones and all the tender parts of her body. He was kind and very gentle.

Ah, baby. I can’t stay. You see, I just got this damn job and this is my Saturday to work, Victor lied, while wishing at the same time that he could stay. Just hold tight, baby. I’ll see you later today. I promise! He really wanted to see this fine lady again and again!

So as not to discourage him by being or seeming overbearing, Priscilla quickly helped Victor get dressed. She could not believe that God had made such a man like Victor. He had everything that she wanted in a man. She was especially impressed with the way Victor made love to her. The level of passion was indescribable. No man had ever taken her to such heights. And she had known a lot of men. He is tall, at least 6’2, jet black and pretty with all parts fitting perfectly, she thought to herself.

Before Victor left, Priscilla made him promise to call her later. He promised that he would. By the following Tuesday evening, Priscilla had given up on ever seeing Victor again. At 6:30 that evening when her phone rang, Priscilla had decided that she wouldn’t answer it, and that she never wanted to see another man. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying. She wanted Victor badly, but she felt that it was not to be. On the sixth ring, Priscilla picked up the phone thinking that it might be her mother, who was the only person she knew that would let the phone ring that long.

Hello.

Hi, Priscilla. What’s up?

Who is this?

Aw, come on, baby. Don’t tell me you forgot me that quickly! This is Victor.

Joy flooded her senses and momentarily paralyzed her vocal chords.

Cilla, are you there? Come on, baby! Don’t be angry. I had to work overtime every night this week. I apologize. I swear to you!

Priscilla could barely manage a mumble, but she did force out a sigh, just enough noise to let Victor know that she was still there. She could not risk losing this man.

Come on, baby! Say something! Victor shouted. Forget this shit; I’m on my way over there!

Before Priscilla could respond, the party on the other end had hung up. Rushing to the bathroom, Priscilla hurriedly took a bath, splashed her face with cold water to shrink the swelling, and put on her red stretch pants that hugged every living inch of her lower body. The halter-top did similar justice to her upper torso. Just as Priscilla put her right foot into her red heeled slippers, the doorbell rang. She froze with rapturous joy.

Victor pounded on the door for what seemed like an eternity to Priscilla.

"I know you’re in there, baby!