All I Need (Found love) Read online

  All I Need

  All I Need 2nd Edition

  Copyright © 2011 by Robin L. Jones

  Cover Art © RL Jones

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photo copying, record, or any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of Author’s rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead. Business establishments, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Darkness loomed before her as she sped up the dark, deserted road. The only fact known to Bri Cleyvon-Grant was she had to get out of this small backwoods town as quickly as possible. She did not know where she was going she just had to get out of the state of New Jersey.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror; a smile touched her lips looking at the reflection of the sleeping infant in the car seat behind her. In her heart, she knew she did the right thing by running from her worthless husband, Tyrone Grant. She should have done it a long time ago. Remorseful tears filled her eyes. No, she chided herself, don’t you dare cry. You chose this life. You ignored all the warning signs about Tyrone. How many times did her mother tell her, he was wrong for her? She shook her head in rueful disbelief. Why is it women think we can change a sorry man? However, no more, she vowed no more. Tears filled her eyes falling in large drops to her lap. “Why are you crying? You did this to yourself,” she said aloud swiping at the tears angrily from her bruised face.

  She glanced briefly at the time on the car radio reading two thirty in the morning and sighed with relief when she saw the streetlights illuminating up ahead. The narrow desolate road widened into a quiet highway, and she couldn’t miss the large lit sign on the side of the road reading “City of Vineland,” hopefully she’d find a motel for the night. Welcomed streetlight and traffic lights shone in the car as she slowed to a stop at the end of each block in the quaint small town. Bri glanced at her baby thankful he was still asleep and exhaled a relieved breath when she pulled into Days Inn motel parking lot. Turning off the car, she grabbed her purse and moved to the back of gently lifting the baby from the back seat to enter the building.

  “Can I help you?” The friendly desk clerk smiled. She took a moment to take in her surroundings. The motel was luxurious compared to some of the seedy places she had stayed with Tyrone.

  “Yes, I'd like a room for couple nights please,” she said sitting the baby carrier on the counter.

  “King or Double?”

  “King, please.”

  “Fill out the registration card and I will need some I.D,” the clerk instructed. Bri nodded reaching into her purse handing the clerk her Georgia license while quickly filling out the registration card.

  “How old is the beautiful baby?” The clerk inquired politely. She looked over at her son.

  “Thanks, he’s a month old,” she answered smiling handing him the card, along with her credit card.

  The one thing smart thing Bri did was she never told Tyrone about the trust that came into effect when she turned twenty-one, six months ago. The only decent thing that came of her relationship with Tyrone was her son Aaron.

  “Okay, Ms Cleyvon, Room 116, do you need help with anything?” The clerk asked.

  “If you could help with my bags in the car, I would appreciate it.” The clerk came from behind the desk to assist her. Thankful for his assistance she gave him a generous tip.

  “Miss?” The clerk said standing outside the door concern on his face.

  “I don’t mean to pry but are you okay?” Bri understood why he asked. He couldn’t miss the many bruises and swollen areas on her face she suffered from Tyrone.

  Bri smiled at the man. “Yes I am now, thank you for your concern."

  “Okay miss if you need anything call for Henry.”

  “Thank you Henry, I will.” Bri closed the door, leaned against it and sighed with relief. She was finally free and felt it. She doubted Tyrone would come after her; at least she prayed he didn’t. She was finished with Tyrone and his dysfunctional life. And to think she had given up her family for him. Many times, she had asked herself what was it about Tyrone that would cause her to turn her back on her family.

  Bri Cleyvon was born in Atlanta, Georgia, to Jorge Aaron Cleyvon and Irene Cleyvon, prominent attorneys in the Greater Atlanta and surrounding areas and one of the wealthiest African American families in Georgia. Being an only child her parents doted on her, thoroughly spoiling her. Bri wanted the best and accepted nothing less. That was until she went off to college and met Tyrone Grant, an employee at the Morris Brown College cafeteria where she attended, and then her standards went out the window. Bri was infatuated with the beautiful coffee colored man. Even though, he was not an overly tall man, but he had a fantastic body and knew it. He was clean-shaven with a squared jaw line, full lips beneath a straight nose and gorgeous deep brown eyes. She was not the only co-ed who was infatuated with Tyrone. He captured many of the young girl’s hearts that attended the University. He was beautiful and when he smiled at her, she was lost, and madly in love with him.

  They started dating, and Tyrone was flattering, extremely attentive and always behaved as a gentleman. She wanted the relationship to advance and tried many times to seduce him, but Tyrone would stop her saying, he wanted to wait until they were married. She was in love. It turned out to be the worst day of her life when she had taken Tyrone home to meet her parents. Her parents were coolly cordial. Her father gave Tyrone the third degree about his future; her mother all but told him, she didn’t like him for her daughter. When they finally left her home and parents, Tyrone was incensed. That was the night her virginity was lost. He had taken her brutally and after it was over, she cried for hours. That was the side of Tyrone she ignored, that violently angry side of him. She never thought it was supposed to be like that; not with the man, you loved; and the sex didn’t get any better. After that, all he cared about was how much money her parents had. She loved Tyrone or at least she thought she did. When she refused to do some of the wild things that frightened her, he would call her bouchie and start accusing her of being a snob like her parents or that she thought she was better than he was. Of course, she did all she could do to persuade him otherwise. When her parents wouldn’t bend on their opinion of Tyrone, she ignored their worries and anxiety. When she started voicing her doubts about their relationship, he would turn into the man she first met. Later Tyrone convinced her to marry him. When she announced her nuptials to her parents, they had the biggest argument she had ever had in her life, going so far as to threaten to disown her, but she was in love.

  Dropping out of school Bri followed her husband anywhere he wanted to go. They never stayed in one town long enough to settle down any roots constantly moving from one town to the next. Each place they moved to, Tyrone seemed to attract the rough elements of the town they live in. It was not above her to work at a fast food restaurant just to have money in their pockets. Tyrone always seemed unable to find a job, but never failed to use what little money they had and waste on booze and marijuana. When she told Tyrone she pregnant he became furious demanding she get an abortion because he didn’t want or like kids. Fortunately for her they didn’t have the kind of money it took to pay for an abortion and from that time on he never failed tell her what a disappointment she is.

  She recalled the night he came back to the motel where they lived, uptight and frantic, literally dragging her out of the bed forcing her to leave with him. Later she found
out he had stolen some weed from one of his degenerate associates. That’s how they ended up in New Jersey. At eight months pregnant and after living in the car for a few days, Tyrone befriended some brothers at a bar and telling them his hard luck story they let them move in their small apartment, living practically in squalor with his so called friends. All they did was drink and abuse drugs while she worked at any odd jobs she could obtain. Tyrone took the money she made, and he along with his derelict friends partied until there was no money left. The one time she asked him why he didn’t get a job, he became insanely outraged. That was the first time he beat her, screaming all the while how much he hated her and her stuck up type, accusing her of trapping him by becoming pregnant.

  “If you hate me so much why do you keep me around, just let me go?” She screamed at him. “Because I know you have money somewhere,” he always reminded her.

  “You forget my parent disowned me because of you,” she would remind him; and for that, she’d get beat. What Tyrone didn’t know was she had a quarter of a million dollar trust fund left to her from her grandmother that her parent had no control. Bri knew if he had any knowledge about the money she would never get away from him.

  When she went into labor, one of his bum friends dropped her off at the hospital emergency room. Tyrone didn’t bother to come to the hospital; so on her son’s birth certificate was Jorge Aaron Cleyvon; no father listed. Having no money and nowhere to go she return to the apartment and Tyrone. She had to do something; he started insisting she get a job now that she had the baby. There was no way she was leaving her baby with him and his friends. Again she was beaten one day because the baby was taken too much of her attention from him. His drinking and drugging was taking its toll on him, he was an outright drug addict now and did anything to get his next fix. She knew she had to get away before he killed her. Bri also realized if he beat her, eventually he would turn his anger on her son. She would kill him first before she let him put a hand on her baby. The day she turned twenty-one, which Tyrone knew nothing about or cared, she started preparing for her escape. Every day with the ruse, she was going job hunting and taking the baby to a sitter, she contacted her bank in Atlanta and started the proceedings to release her trust fund and making her funds available to her. In her heart, she knew she didn’t deserve the trust; she had been a horrible daughter. Her plan was to use only what was needed for her and the baby to relocate and settle. Then she would focus on her art to make a living.

  She began secretly buying and packed things she needed for the baby and herself storing them in the trunk of the car. When she had all she needed and after the last beating, and when Tyrone fell into his drug-induced stupor, she bundled her baby, and left him passed out in the backwoods of New Jersey.

  Looking at her reflection in the mirror she gingerly touched the swollen eyes, split lips, and cut chin. Tyrone had beaten her before but never like this. He was always selective as to where his punches would land. It was always her body never her face. She guessed now it didn’t matter where his fists landed. Three years have taken its toll on her. Turning away disguised, she gazed her beautiful, slumbering infant. Aaron was starting to stir and the heaviness in her breasts indicating her son needed feeding. As Aaron nursed, she thought about where they would go. Sadly, Bri realized right away that she could never go back to Atlanta. She was too ashamed to face her parents now. Virginia, she thought. Virginia Beach, she always loved it there.

  “Well little fellow, Virginia Beach will soon be in our new home.”

  Chapter Two

  Two years later

  Trevet Harrison strolled leisurely through the small intimately lit art gallery. He was asked to locate the daughter of Jorge Cleyvon, by the man himself. There was no favor to large for him to do for Jorge Cleyvon. If he wanted his daughter found, found is what she shall be. After a year plus of searching, he finally obtained information on the whereabouts of Bri Cleyvon. His break came when he noticed activity on her trust fund from which she withdrew a large amount of money that gave him all her information and her whereabouts. What puzzled him is why she had not used the trust since turning twenty-one. He cringed when unpleasant memories filled his head at the thought of seeing Bri Cleyvon again. She was about sixteen years old when he first started working for her father. More times than not she would burst into her father's office like a hurricane demanding from her father for one thing or another.

  Bri was a pretty, self-centered, and spoiled young woman. He didn’t like her then, and was sure she was probably the same selfish, spoiled brat he remembered. He recalled how distraught Jorge was when she married Tyrone Grant against his wishes. In anger, he threatened to disown her, however, the threat didn’t faze her, she wanted Tyrone, and that was all that mattered to her. Unknown to Bri, Jorge never disowned her. She left with Grant, and her parents had not heard from her in three years. Trevet didn’t know what to expect from Jorge’s daughter, but he would take her home kicking and screaming if he had to.

  Trevet observed the multitude of art lovers and dealers strolling the room scrutinizing and commenting on the exhibition of paintings that lined the wall of the gallery. He moved slowly around the patrons when a painting caught his eyes. Stopping he gazed at the face of a young black woman, her face tilted downward with a white mask painted on her face eyes closed. One hand on her face as if to hold the mask in place. The unique thing about the portrait was on one side of her face the white mask was crumbling away, but what captivated him was the sadness on the face as the mask crumbled away. The image touched him.

  “What do you think?” A feminine voice beside him said.

  Trevet looked over at the elegantly dressed older woman beside him.

  “Intriguing,” he replied simply.

  “Yes,” she agreed, “Makes me wonder if she sad or relieved.”

  Trevet nodded. “Do you know the artist?”

  “Oh yes, Bri Cleyvon, wonderful young woman.”

  “Wonderful?” Trevet repeated. His interested was piqued.

  “Oh yes, this is her exhibit; a pretty girl, very reserved, and extremely private.”

  Trevet frowned. That person was not the Bri Cleyvon he knew.

  “Has she any family?” He asked.

  The woman shrugged. “Never mentioned any, but she has an adorable little boy.”

  Trevet gave a silent grunt. So Bri had Tyrone Grant’s child.

  The woman looked up at exceptionally tall handsome man beside her. At a glance, she could see he was in excellent physical condition by the way the shirt he wore fit his broad shoulder tapering down to the waistband of his belted slacks. Slightly flustered by her wayward thoughts, she would guess he had a hard, muscular mid section. A handsome man she thought, no a beautiful man. Cinnamon colored complexion with dark short, hair neatly trimmed, wide set gray eyes on either side a long tapered nose. His mouth held her gaze. Perfection was her thought. A fine mouth that could have is sculptured along with a strong jaw line with a small dimpled chin. To be young again, the woman thought with a silent chuckle.

  “Would you care to meet her?” The woman smiled warmly. Trevet nodded. She looked around the room.

  “There,” she pointed in Bri’s direction, “She’s pretty, yes,” the woman said smiling. Trevet looked in the direction the woman indicted. Pretty was an understatement. She was perfect.

  She appeared to be listening intently to an invited patron of the showing; a slight smile on her full, shapely mouth that he noticed didn’t quite reach her almond shaped brown eyes. His gaze traveled over her. Reddish brown shoulder length hair parted down the middle of her small head hung loose brushing her shoulders as the dimly lit room accentuated the radiance of her golden honey color of her skin. Dressed conservatively in a black cocktail dress with a wide belt accentuated her petite waist and flared around her hips stopping just above her knees displaying beautifully shaped legs. Bri Cleyvon was small, maybe standing five feet two inches without the strapped black sandals on the small feet.
The photo in his possession did her no justice. Bri was more than just pretty Trevet surmised. Trevet’s brow furrowed. There was something different about her. A difference he couldn’t quite identify, but whatever was it suited her well.

  “Come, I’ll introduce you,” the woman said. Trevet followed the woman to where Bri stood. Trevet stood quietly observing all the changes in Bri while she listened attentively to the old gentleman that held her attention.

  “Excuse me Bri,” the older woman interrupted, “This gentleman was admiring your paintings and wanted to meet you,” the silver hair woman indicated to Trevet.

  “Hello Bri,” Trevet greeted observing her reactions taking in the way her dark eyes widened in surprise then relaxing into what he thought was recognition.

  Bri looked over at Trevet instant recognition registered in her eyes, which she quickly lowered, to cover her reaction. When they lifted, the reaction was gone.

  “Hello,” she said so softly he had leaned in to hear her. The woman beside him was quite interested in the distant exchange she had just witnessed.

  “Ms Dobbs,” Bri said softly, “Will you excuse us please?”

  Ms Dobbs nodded and watched as Bri led the handsome man away. Trevet followed, his gaze fell to the gentle sway of her hips as she led him to a small room that appeared to be a sort of storage area. Once behind the closed door, Bri turned to face him, her eyes met his rendering him speechless. She was stunning.

  No woman has ever made staggered him. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “You remember me?” Trevet asked.

  “Yes, you’re my father attorney.” She answered quietly.

  “Yes, he acknowledged with a nod.”

  “Is my mother and father well?” She asked concern in her tone.

  “Do you really care?” He asked with an arrogant lift of his brow.

  Bri reacted as if slapped. Her eyes narrowed. “Yes I do, contrary to what you believe or heard about my parents and our situation.”