The Fall: The Fall, #1

By Dayo Benson

Life is cruel.

Six years ago, Selah McAllister dumped me without so much as an explanation and left for college in L.A. I held on, waiting for her to return because I knew that, someday, she would. She and I are meant to be.

Love is hard.

Now, Selah is back, but she isn't the carefree eighteen-year-old I once loved. She's older and jaded, and she has dark secrets. Secrets that lead her to extreme actions that scare me.

Falling is easy.

I'm nothing like my brothers. I'm the 'good' Carter brother. The who has always walked the straight and narrow. But if I have one weakness, it's Selah. And when my life begins to unravel after a shocking family secret is exposed, she is the one person I can turn to.

But she might also be my downfall.

Don't miss out on this sparkling new series from beloved Christian romance author Dayo Benson.

Get your copy today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dayo Benson
• Release date: Nov 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201976378

Book preview

The Fall

The Carter Family

—

Dayo Benson

Copyright

The Fall

© Copyright 2021 by Dayo Benson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the author. The only exception is brief quotations in a book review.

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Chapter 1

Three years ago, Selah McAllister

The man sitting across the table from me looks like the devil. His skin is pale, almost translucent; his eyes are soulless and vacant; and his tailored black suit only adds to his air of maleficence.

How much are you willing to pay to keep this quiet? he asks me.

His name is Daryl and I curse the day we met.

I can't believe I ever trusted him.

Let me phrase it differently, Daryl says. What is your reputation worth to you?

It's worth everything.

He knows that.

Candlelight flickers in a crystal jar at the centre of the table, casting shadows over the planes of his angular face. The room is shadowy. Its red and black decor could be romantic, but it just feels ominous to me.

The day I met Daryl, I thought he was some kind of angel of light, swooping into my life at just the right time with all the right answers. Now, it's obvious to me that I was preyed upon.

Could I have done it without him? Without the solution he offered me? I'll never know.

And now, I'm trapped.

Shall I cut to the chase? Daryl asks softly.

I nod. My mouth is dry. My palms are sweaty.

I glance around the restaurant. Other diners seem to be having nice, romantic dinners. Daryl and I probably look like just another well-dressed couple on a date. But this is far from that.

My silence will cost you two million dollars.

I feel weak.

He knows I don't have two million dollars. He knows I have nothing at all.

But I guess that's exactly why he's doing this. He's the type of man that gets some kind of sick satisfaction out of stalking, circling, teasing, chasing, and then moving in for the kill.

You don't have the money to pay me, do you? Daryl asks.

I'll get it, I snap. Don't do anything. Don't…expose me. Give me time…

Answer my question, Daryl says. I want to know where we stand. Let's lay all the cards on the table, Selah. Do you have the money?

I lower my gaze to the table, anger and fear swelling within me.

You don't, Daryl says. You have no way to buy your reputation back.

He's overstating it. That's something he likes to do. He overstates the enormity of any predicament I might be in, so that it won't be lost on me. So that it weighs heavy on my shoulders.

Right now, the overstating is completely unnecessary. I'm well aware that he's plunged me into an impossibly deep hole and I have no way of getting out except on his terms.

Luckily for you, he says, there is an alternative way to pay me.

I lean forward slightly, interested, although something about his tone tells me I'm not going to like it.

My fee is two million dollars, increasing by one million dollars each month that you don't pay. Alternatively, you can pay me in other services.

What services? I ask.

Daryl allows his gaze to wander to my lips, then flick down to my chest.

My insides freeze. Ice trickles through my veins.

That's what this is going to be?

I can only stare at him in shock. He stares back unfazed.

You will come to me once every month, he tells me, all business. And at any other time that I may request your presence.

I swallow, sickened. Horrified.

Can you give me a month? I ask. I should be able to get the money.

Daryl lifts his thick, dark brows. I'll wait no longer than two weeks.

That's great. I'll get the money to you within two weeks.

I have no idea how I'm going to do that, but I have to at least try. I'll do anything to not have to practically sell my body.

I've already sold my soul.

And it hasn't even been as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Bring me two million dollars within two weeks, Daryl says, or show up at my house to pay me in other services. His lips curve in a sinister smile. Or I will ruin you.

Chapter 2

Present Day, Levi Carter

A camera flashes as I step through the sliding glass doors of my workplace and onto the busy street beyond. A man in jeans and a denim jacket emerges from the human traffic rushing by, pointing a camera at me. I ignore him.

You Christian people are a freaking mess, he yells.

I've edited his words. He used the F-bomb.

I agree that my family is a mess, but not that all Christians are. Unfortunately, when a TV preacher, which my father happens to be, is shown to be less than perfect, everyone takes the opportunity to point the finger and cry 'hypocrite'.

If I cared about the photographer's opinion, I would remind him that Dad hasn't actually done anything wrong. It's my brother, Colby. But nobody wants to hear that. The actions of preachers' kids always reflect on their parents. And everyone loves a good scandal involving a preacher's kid.

Hudson is an escort, the photographer calls, still taking pictures.

I want to throttle him. People are staring now.

Was, I mutter.

My oldest brother, Hudson, used to be an escort. I've always found that term misleading because I used to think escorts simply 'escort' their clients to social events. But no. Hudson was sleeping with his clients. He was basically a high-priced gigolo. He lived in a snazzy apartment in New York and everything. But that's his past. He's cleaned up his act now and he's married, his wife is pregnant, and they're both happy as can be.

Colby is a porn star, the photographer yells.

Again, 'was'. He quit that job two years ago, but it's still scandal after scandal with him, and the media is all over it. Mom, Dad, and I only found out he was a porn star when he went on this reality TV show. We had no idea that he'd been living a double life for seven years. Colby Carter by day, Mr. Big by night.

Yeah. Our family is at an all time low. And journalists think it's reasonable to harass me outside my workplace rather than offer me words of comfort. I guess they're not asking themselves, 'What would Jesus do?'

What skeletons do you have in your closet? the journalist hollers.

I knew that was going to be his punchline. First Hudson, then Colby. You're next! I've been getting that vibe from lots of people. Everyone is waiting for me to mess up, or for something shocking to be revealed about me. They're all wondering if I can possibly be as innocent as I seem.

The answer, sadly, is 'yes'. I truly am the most boring, unexciting person in the world. Nothing about me is newsworthy. I'm a 'what you see is what you get' kind of guy. I just don't have the energy to live a double life, don't have the desire to sleep around whether as an escort, porn star, or regular player, and my biggest passion in life is landscaping. That's what I do for a living: revamp plots of land, make them beautiful, and collect a sweet pay check. I'm so good that I'm going to Puerto Rico next week for the annual National Society of Landscapers Awards. I've even been nominated for Landscaper of the Year. And I'm not saying I'm going to Puerto Rico for work when I'm really going to Vegas for sin. That's not me.

But then, I'm adopted. Whatever is responsible for Hudson's and Colby's truancy must be at a genetic level. Maybe that's why I'm different. I'm level-headed, and I like to keep a low profile and mind my business.

Sure, I find Dad annoying, overbearing and downright cold sometimes, but he is the way he is. I've never had any desire to rebel or set him straight. I even assist him at church and everyone says what a good son I am, unlike my 'rebellious elder brothers'.

I guess I'm just grateful I had a home growing up. I have no idea why Pastors Jeremiah and Joanne Carter adopted me when they already had two sons of their own. But they raised me like I was their biological child—if I'm honest Mom treated me even better than Hudson and Colby who are her actual flesh and blood—so I'm not going to be a jerk and do anything to hurt them.

Come on, Levi Carter, tell me your secrets, the journalist taunts.

He isn't taking pictures anymore, but he's still holding up his camera and peering through the lens. He must be recording me now. Does he think I'm actually going to tell him something? He's deluded.

If you're not willing to share your personal dirt, dish some dirt on your dad, he calls.

People glance at me as they walk by and I feel like a freak show.

Why did he adopt you? the journalist asks? What happened to your biological parents?

It's common knowledge that I'm adopted. If I was white, I would fit right in with the Carters, but I'm not, so whenever people meet me they know right away that either Mom had an affair or my parents aren't my biological parents.

Since Mom is the sweetest, Godliest woman ever, they settle on the latter.

Is he a good dad? The journalist calls. If he is, why did Hudson and Colby turn out the way they have?

I'm getting sick of this dude. I could walk on towards my parking lot, but I know he'll follow me and yell at me all the way. The last thing I want is for him to say something that gets to me. Anything I might say in response will be blown out of proportion. If I, heavens forbid, get so wound up that I give him the slug in the face that he deserves, I'll be arrested and land myself in the next headlines. That's the last thing Mom and Dad need.

Journalists harassing you again, son? comes a raspy deep voice behind me.

I turn to see Ricardo, one of the building's security dudes, emerging through the doors. He's pushing seventy and calls everyone 'son' or 'kid'.

Yeah, I say.

Ricardo barrels into the street. Yo! he bellows. If you don't clear out of here I'm coming to get ya!

The journalist takes a picture of Ricardo. No doubt he'll spin some story about how I set a friend onto him for whatever pathetic publication he works for. He might even throw in the bandanna around Ricardo's head and fabricate something about gang membership. Nothing would shock me.

Did ya just take a picture of me? Ricardo booms.

The journalist smirks, but he does take a step backward.

Did ya?

When the journalist doesn't respond, Ricardo bounds towards him.

The journalist does the only smart thing to be done when an irate, elderly, Hispanic man in a bandana and tank top that shows off his bulky biceps is running at you. He turns and flees, losing himself in the crowd.

Ricardo gestures to me to make my escape, then returns into the building.

I step onto the sidewalk and begin the ten-minute walk to the parking lot. It's a typical cloudy DC day. The sky is iron-gray, kind of like my mood. A flash of long, black curly hair a few steps in front of me makes me give the woman in question a second glance. My heart skips a beat and my blood pumps a little harder, until I realize it isn't Selah.

Of course it isn't.

I give myself a mental shake. It's been six years since Selah broke up with me, but curly black hair is still a trigger for me. She lives in LA now, so of course I'm not going to see her walking around in Washington DC.

I make my way around the block and stop at a busy road, joining the pedestrians congregated on the sidewalk, waiting to cross.

Everything is a mess, I tell myself. I rake a hand through my hair, weary.

My family is a laughing stock, not only in our community, but all over the world, courtesy of Dad being an internationally famous preacher with one of the biggest churches in the country.

I've been praying that everything will die down and that God will bring healing to my family. Hudson and Dad have a better relationship these days, but Dad and Colby can't stand each other. Mom is caught in-between. I'm being supportive towards everyone, not taking any sides.

But if I were to pick a side, I'd side with Hudson and Colby. They've made mistakes, but Dad really has been treating everyone like garbage for years. He's always been that way. He's even cold with Mom, too. He's all about his beloved 'ministry'. Nothing else matters.

I guess it's always been easier for me to let Dad's behavior slide because I'm adopted. Hudson and Colby, on the other hand, have always made it clear that they despise him.

I'm distantly aware of someone pushing through the throng of pedestrians and squeezing in beside me, but I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't check to see who it is until I hear my name.

Leaving so soon, Levi?

I glance down at the woman beside me and force a smile. It's Henrietta, one of my designers. No, nothing as glamorous as fashion design. Landscaping and lawn design.

You left like thirty minutes ago, I say. What are you still doing here?

She lifts the takeout bag she's holding. I went to grab dinner.

Ah, it's going to be one of those nights?

Take out and a movie. Is there any better kind of night?

I grin.

What about you? she asks. You never leave before seven. You have something juicy planned, don't you? Hot date?

I snort. If only.

I'm going to this charity thing, I tell her. I don't go into much detail because it's pretty embarrassing. I'm doing it only because it's for a good cause.

Well you could look a little happier about it? Henrietta says. Handsome face like that and you're hiding it with that somber look.

Did she seriously just say that?

I'm her boss.

A car whizzes by and I catch mine and Henrietta's reflections in the windows. If I looked somber before, I don't now. I look kind of flustered.

It's nothing new to me to be hit on. Women are bold these days. In the right settings—i.e. most social situations—I get approached plenty. And the women who aren't bold enough to approach me just stare, giggle, and blatantly whisper about me to their friends instead.

I know how to handle that in day-to-day life with strangers, but not with an employee. Geez!

Brent, my assistant, is always telling me that Henrietta has a crush on me. She's pretty too, with light brown hair, blue eyes and a petite frame. But since she's married, it would be ridiculous to even entertain any notions about her.

I just gave you a compliment, Henrietta says. You can at least say 'thanks'?

Do other bosses get spoken to like this by their employees? Mine seem to have no respect for me whatsoever.

Brent says it's because I'm way too lenient with them, but all I want to do is focus on the work that I love, not waste time plotting how to assert my authority as a boss. I don't even really want to manage staff except that they make my operations so much more efficient and my company has grown in leaps and bounds ever since I started hiring and getting help.

Thanks, I say stiffly in a tone that says, 'Thanks, but no thanks'.

Henrietta doesn't respond, and I glance at her. Her cheeks are pink. I hate that she's embarrassed, but that's better than encouraging her.

Maybe all the sneaky flirtation will stop now. I'm not interested. She isn't really interested either. She probably just sees flirting with me as some kind of pastime. I'm not interested in being anybody's pastime. And even if she truly does have a crush on me, I'm not interested in no married chick.

I have friends who would jump Henrietta's bones, married or not—Micah, comes to mind—so maybe I'm strange. But I'm an 'all or nothing' kind of guy.

Not that I never flirt. I'm all for a good flirt-fest when it I know it's totally harmless, like when Hudson brought his wife home for the first time, and the first time I properly met Chloe, Colby's on-off girlfriend—who, by the way, was in that reality TV show too and seems to actually love Colby despite his issues. I pretty much flirted shamelessly, but it was really my way of testing their women and seeing if they were really worthy of my brothers. Both were.

But flirting with a staff member—and a married staff member at that!—no thanks.

The traffic lights turn red, stopping the cars, and the crowd waiting to cross the road surges forward.

Henrietta and I have probably parked our cars in the same parking lot, but I decide we need to part ways. See you tomorrow? I ask.

She nods. See you.

I turn left and she heads straight on.

A part of me feels bad at the way I've just made her feel all awkward, so I decide I'll buy her a latté macchiato—her favorite—tomorrow, and everything will be fine.

I'm going to have to take a roundabout route to my car now. I walk a few blocks, then circle back. It takes an additional twenty minutes. I'm going to be late getting to the hospital.

I look both ways at a quiet intersection a few streets from my parking lot. No cars. I step out. I'm halfway across the road when a car appears

Reviews for The Fall

[Bolanle Temidayo Ogunleye · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Full of suspense and interesting. I enjoyed it. Thank you.

[Ogunrin Oluwafemi · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It was a good plot but unfortunately the writing was not as great as I am used to.