One secret. One Promise. Two hearts.
Ama promises to keep her muma's secret till she meets an American man she dubs as Mr. Gorgeous. When their hearts collide, the secret threatens to reveal itself.
Will the Jamaican heat scorch the love that coul...
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Waking up, the musty smell of water-damaged moldy wood permeates my senses. Where the hell am I?
It is then that my aching head recalls what happened.
Stella.
I had just hung up with Gregory, contemplating whether I had heard his words correctly. He loves me, and I love him. Trai's trauma didn't give us time to share our feelings, and it didn't feel right when my friend was having such a difficult time.
The next thing I knew, Stella popped out of the hall closet with a knife.
While shocked, I quickly braced myself and dodged her first attempt to attack me, knocking me into the shelving unit.
Unfortunately, she recovered quickly and took me down from behind. I turned my body just in time to avoid her stabbing me in the shoulder. Using my legs, I was able to push her off of me into the planter. Dirt flew everywhere, and it gave me time to stand back up and grab a statue off of the floor where it fell when I crashed into the shelves.
I was ready for Stella and able to find my voice. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
She snarled at me with hatred and insanity gleaming in her eyes, then jumped at me. I got out of her way, but not before she slashed the knife across my right arm.
There was no time to feel the pain because Stella was able to keep her balance as she twisted back around and stabbed me in the back. I fell to the floor from the momentum of her pushing the knife through me.
Hearing her wicked cackle, I turned just in time to see the knife, slick with my blood, slipping out of her hand.
We both looked at each other wide-eyed and then at the knife that was just out of our reach before we lunged for the knife. I reached it before Stella but could not get a good grip on it, so I took my statue and slammed it into her shoulder, giving me time to scramble away and grab the knife.
I took off out the back sliding door, running down the steps, into the night with the knife in my hand, and threw it as far as I could into the ocean.
The next thing I knew, Stella tackled me into the sand and hit me over the head. I immediately blacked out till waking up in this shack, water dripping through the roof onto my head, which did nothing to help my pounding headache.
I assess my juries, surprisingly, I'm not bleeding as badly as I thought a knife wound would be. The sand impacting the puncture the knife left behind must be slowing down the bleeding; I use my shirt to wrap around my midsection and tighten it over the wound as tight as I can, grunting with the pain it's causing.
What the hell happened? Stella is insane. Remembering how her wild eyes looked at me gives me the shivers.
A few deep breaths are needed to clear my mind, I try to think straight. I must have lost a significant amount of blood, or the knock to my head is causing me to be too weak to get up and leave this hell hole.
