Truce: Truce, #1

By Ms Bam and Anjela Day

Bonded by loyalty, Malcolm Jones and Tremaine Evans have built what appeared to be an unbreakable legacy. Sealing their bond with an agreement of marriage between their children. They hoped the secret marriage bond would never have to be called into play. Though as the years fly by, it seems as if not even loyalty can hold together the brotherly bond the two men had formed as young men. Money, and power have a way of tempting some men to make bad decisions and life-altering changes. 23 years later the sins of the father have become the realities of their children. Forced into marriage Iniko Jones and Nasir Evans may have to mend the broken bond of their fathers to stop a bloody war, but will it be too little too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.N.C. Media Publishing
• Release date: Apr 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386441151

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Copyright © 2018 A.N.C Media Publishing & Day One Publishing

This book is purely a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents contained within this body of work are not related to or portraying anyone living or dead. Any similarities are purely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No parts of this E-Book may be copied, transmitted, used or sold without the written permission of the Author Candace Mumford/Ms. Bam,Anjela Day ,  A.N.C. Media Publishing or Day One Publishing

The only exception to this clause is E-Book Samples which are provided for you at various online retailers and from the Author Candace Mumford/Ms. Bam,Anjela Day and A.N.C. Media Publishing/Day One Publishing. Brief quotes may be used in reviews.

Please Note:

This book is written in every day African-American street language.

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Chapter 1 Prologue

MALCOLM JONES EASED into the oversized leather armchair in front of the expansive fireplace in his private office. The heavy rain beating on the windows outside made for a slightly chilly night and the low fire provided a nice bit of warmth in the room. In one hand a Cuban cigar was perched between his long fingers. The other held a glass with a rich brown colored liquid. He leaned his head back on the headrest of the deep mahogany leather recliner and finally exhaled  deeply. He took in his expansive library of books lining the room with places he’d yet to visit. Malcolm took a light sip from his glass allowing the smooth taste of cognac to coat his throat.

To anyone observing him, you’d never be able to tell the weight of the world was resting heavily on his corded, muscular shoulders. Malcolm wore his burdens like he wore his suits. Anyone who knew Malcolm, knew he wore them well. Tasteful, classic and dignified. Malcolm was after all, an incredibly handsome man. His smooth, cashew colored skin was flawless. His almond shaped eyes and full lips fit his face perfectly. His thick frame just a little over six feet. Malcolm’s honey colored eyes sparkled with life when things were good. Tonight they were a deep amber. His spirit was disturbed. Malcolm took a long contemplative pull from his cigar, allowing his mind to drift momentarily.

He would have loved to think of a simpler time. In the twenty-nine years Malcolm had inhabited this earth, simple was not something he could recall. Malcolm’s life had always been one of confusion, and chaos.  That was what molded him into the upstanding business man he had become at such a young age.

A tapping sound alerted Malcolm.

He placed his glass on the table in front of him. Replacing it with a black revolver. He stealthy clicked the safety off, resting the gun lightly in his lap. He then took another slow pull from his cigar.

A chill shot down Malcolm's spine, as cold steel was placed against the temple of his closely cropped head. Malcolm was no fool, he knew just what it was. A normal man's heart would have sped up. Raced as if injected with a shot of the purest cocaine. Not his, Malcolm exhaled a cloud of smoke. Breathing as if nothing bothered him. Steady, slow.

You slipping in ya’ old age. A deep, baritone voice goaded from behind, causing Malcolm to chuckle lightly as he slowly turned around.

You think so? He said pressing the gun he had pulled out mere seconds before, against the man's stomach, Nuck if you buck nigga.

Touché, my brotha The man said retracting his gun, and slipping it down his pants. Malcolm did the same. He placed his gun back on the table. Grabbing his glass and offering his comrade a drink that he already had waiting for him.

You're late  Malcolm stated his voice matching the other man in the room. Thick and full of self-proclaimed authority

When you have a wife that's a perfectionist, and a set of twins, ten minutes late is on time. The man said taking the glass from Malcolm. He even helped himself to a cigar, before taking the empty seat beside his longtime friend.

Next to Malcolm sat his longtime friend  Tremaine Evans. The two men had grown up together.  If there were a bond thicker than blood it would be the two of them. While Malcolm grew up in a two-parent home. Filled with  wealth and privilege, he lacked family. His parents gave him the world, just not the affection that he at times desired. He yearned for more  than the  one-sided relationship that his wealthy father and distant mother offered.

Tremaine Evans was the complete opposite. He grew up in a single parent home where his mother  worked two jobs and could barely afford  to feed him. All she could  give Tremaine was love. She died when he was 13. Thankfully he was blessed to have a friend whose family  was willing to take  him in.

Both men sat in silence, watching the burning embers of the fireplace. It was Sunday evening. The only day the two men set aside to just relax and enjoy the fruits of their arduous labor. They left business, on the other side of the door, and allowed themselves to unwind.  They spent the day with their families. Which meant, a huge Sunday feast that both of their wives would prepare. While their children ran through the huge home, of whom ever hosted that week, and the wives entertained each other.

Tell me, did you ever see us making it this far? Malcolm asked taking another sip of his drink.

Tremaine took the final pull of his cigar before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

Hell yeah, Tremaine said turning to his friend.

Shit with my brains, finesse, and intelligence, how could we not? Tremaine asked cockily.

So you just did this shit by yourself? Malcolm asked with a raised eyebrow and turned down  lips.

They both looked at each other and shared a hearty laugh.

A girl..., Malcolm blurted out downing his entire glass, then standing to refresh both of their  drinks.

What about a girl? Tremaine asked.

She's having a goddamned girl. What the hell am I going to do with a daughter? Malcolm asked in a joking tone, but his face was serious.

Hell if I can raise twins, you can handle a little girl. Shit, I'm a little jealous. I'd love to have a little girl to spoil. These knucklehead boys are going to be the death of me. Tremaine joked.  

While they were laughing Malcolm truly was terrified. It wasn't hard for Tremaine to truly see something was bothering his friend.

Spill it. Tremaine said raising his drink to his lips and slowly draining the glass.

I just want our kids to have what we had growing up, what we have now. I don't see it happening. The life we live..., Malcolm paused, and sipped from his glass. He looked back at his friend nervously.

We're not kids any more. The life we have chosen for ourselves is not an easy one. I just want to know that my family, my little girl will be okay, Malcolm spoke with passion and determination in his voice.

Tremaine couldn't help but acknowledge the frustration that filled his friends head. It was written all over his face. His light-colored skin was flushed with peaks of red.

Your family..., Tremaine paused in his words and lifted his glass. ...our family will be fine. Those two boys you have will make sure your princess is protected at all times. My two boys will pick up whenever they slack. Tremaine insisted trying to ease his friends mind. However Tremaine got the feeling there was something else Malcolm wasn't saying.

They both knew that the lifestyle they'd chosen for themselves was one of chaos, but since boys, they'd welcomed the challenge.

So what was the problem? Tremaine wondered.

They were both intelligent, and together they operated like a well-oiled machine.

Malcolm was a figurehead. His political connections aided them. They had everyone in their pockets from police officers to the governor. They even had a few judges that would shake things up for them for the right price.

While Tremaine was muscle.  He enforced whatever Malcolm ordered. He also had major pull in the streets. His savvy way of thinking kept them alive many days.  They were dynamite in the drug game, damn near untouchable. Hell, Malcolm couldn't understand why his friend was so frustrated.

Promise me no matter what happens between us, where we are in life, you'll protect my family. No matter what we go through in the coming years, you'll make sure my wife and kids are okay? Malcolm demanded. His voice was shaking, full of trepidation.

Of course. Tremaine confirmed, a little perplexed. What had his friend in such a panic?

Promise me that our families will always be bonded. Malcolm said. Tremaine was becoming more than curious as to what was going on.

What has you worried? Tremaine asked.

Malcolm sat back in his seat.

Right now because of our loyalty the world is at our feet. But if it comes a day our boys don't have the same loyalty, then we need to have something in play that will keep our families safe, something that will keep us forever bonded. Malcolm insisted raising from his chair and rounding it until he stood in back of it, hands planted on the back of the chair.

Like a contract? Tremaine asked with wide eyes. Malcolm ran his hands through his jet-black hair and pondered what he was asking for.

More than a contract, a ceasefire, something that will assure that our families are always connected. An agreement of some sort. Nothing fancy just if our families need each other we’ll find a way to keep them together.

Tremaine looked at his friend with a puzzled look on his face.

Like a truce? Tremaine questioned

Exactly. If our families drift or something happens to one of us, we agree to disband our business with no hard feelings toward one another.

That's insane. We're family, it should go without question. She’s having a girl right? You know that for sure? Tremaine asked Malcolm, the wheels in his head clearly spinning.

Yeah, she's due in a few months. Malcolm stated solemnly.

Then that's our agreement. To keep our families as one, they will become one. When your daughter is twenty-five, or our families are in danger, my oldest son will marry your  daughter. We’ll merge our families and our business. Agreed?" Tremaine asked Malcolm extending his hand for his friend to shake.

Malcolm didn't need convincing, he knew this was exactly what they both needed. Malcolm extended his hand firmly shaking Tremaine’s hand.

I'll have our lawyer draw it up tomorrow. We’ll even tell Pastor Brown and have it written in the family bible. Today though, we enjoy our family. Tremaine mused in agreement.

The sound of heels could be heard outside of the room where the men sat. They could hear their wives stirring around.

We're going to have to tell them. Tremaine said, sipping from his glass. Malcolm nodded his head in acknowledgment. He wasn’t looking forward to having this conversation with his wife Marcella, but his mind wasn’t changing, no matter how she felt about it.

HOURS LATER, MALCOLM sat on the side of his bed. His hands ruffled through his thick curly hair. After his conversation with Tremaine, his mind was  slightly at ease. However he knew he still needed to face his wife. Their agreement was all but signed in blood. No matter how Marcella took the news. Malcolm was secure in his decision.

Hey handsome, are you okay? Marcella asked her husband.  That pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up at his wife, as she stepped between his legs and rested her full ass on his lap. Taking his hands from his head, planting them both on her full belly.

She is going to be every bit of your double. I can already tell and she’s not even here yet. She’s so active. She never stops moving just like you. Marcella said softly kissing his forehead. Malcolm caressed her stomach then forced a smile on his face.

Is that so? He said distant from the conversation.

This little girl is going to have everything I never did. Live the life I always dreamed of. I just know she'll be carefree just like me and marry a man just like her father. Marcella said. A smile covering her entire face.

Indeed she will. I've made sure of that. Malcolm said, his voice thick with emotion.

He eased his wife from his lap and stood her to her feet. It was clear she was confused.

What do you mean you've made sure of it? Marcella's face now wore a look of concern. She sat on the bed and looked up at her husband.

Malcolm sighed, before taking the seat beside his wife.

She'll marry Nasir.  Malcolm said blankly. He stated the words as if he hadn't just decided his daughter's future before she even took her first breath. Marcella's eyes were pinned to her husband’s lips. Was she hearing his words correctly?

Malcolm elaborate please Marcella insisted trying to remain calm.

Malcolm sighed as he turned to face his wife  as he studied her entire mood. The last thing he wanted to do was upset his pregnant wife.

When our beautiful baby girl turns twenty-five, she will marry Nasir to merge our families. Unless our family has a riff, then she will wed him to call a ceasefire. Our children will act as a truce so that the legacy Tremaine and I have created will not fall asunder.

Marcella tossed her head back and laughed.

When she saw her husband’s face was still serious, she didn't blink. She raised her hand smacking him across his face. Malcolm snarled. He placed his hand on his face then just looked at his wife. When Marcella realized she hadn’t as much as gotten a rise out of her husband, she raised her hand to smack him again. What he was saying was completely insane.

Malcolm caught her hand mid- swing. His nostrils flared and his eyes darted to the center of her face.

Malcolm gripped his wife's wrist and lightly placed her hand on his face. Marcella closed her eyes , allowing a tear to fall. She gently stroked his face where she’d struck him.

Silence filled the room. Marcella lightly exhaled before speaking. "Does Janelle