The Heart Read online

  The Heart

  By

  Iris Bolling

  Siri Enterprises

  Publishing Division

  Richmond, Virginia

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

  The Heart

  Copyright©2011 by Iris Bolling

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the prior written consent of the publisher ore author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9801066-7-1

  ISBN-10: 0-9801066-7-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011918500

  Cover and page design by: Judith Wansley

  The Heart Series

  By Iris Bolling

  Once You’ve Touched The Heart

  The Heart of Him

  Look Into My Heart

  A Heart Divided

  A Lost Heart

  The Heart

  www.irisbolling.net

  www.sirient.com

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you my heavenly father.

  Chris and Champaine, thank you for your love, support and patience.

  Judith Wansley, thank you for sharing your talents, your kindness and your unyielding dedication and belief in the dream.

  Roz Terry, LaFonde Harris, and Gemma Mejias: the roots to my tree, thanks for always answering the telephone.

  Kathy Six, Erica George, and Cathy Atchison, thank you for your time, knowledge and encouragement.

  To the beautiful people, Monica Jackson, Sakeitha Horton, Justin Wansley, Jason Wansley and Stephen Howell, may God’s blessings always be with you.

  To Beverly Jenkins and Gwyneth Bolton, thank you for sharing your knowledge and experience.

  To my mom, Evelyn Lucas, my sister Helen McCant and brother Albert “Turkey” Doles, family is the strength that binds us forever and always.

  A special thank you to Loretta Walls, you encourage me to improve with every stroke of my pen.

  To all of my readers, the final installment is here. You embraced the Harrison’s family and friends and I thank you. My prayer is that The Heart Series touched your life and continue to bring you enjoyment for years to come.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to,

  Raymond Franklin Washington, Jr.

  You taught me how to love.

  Prologue

  Jeffrey Daniel Harrison stood at the podium, as a sea of people looked on. The Convention Center in downtown Richmond was lined with red, white and blue banners, balloons, posters, hats and any other paraphernalia available to mankind. The atmosphere in the room was more than electrifying; it was explosive. He looked to his left and saw his wife Tracy beaming with love and pride in her eyes. The intensity of the unspoken message that passed between them was more than he could handle. He stepped away from his podium, placed his arm around Tracy’s expanded waistline, then proceeded to give her the most passionate kiss ever witnessed by a national television audience. The crowd cheered louder, as they basked in the joy of knowing they had just elected another African American for President of the United States, which essentially meant that the country was progressing into becoming exactly what the Declaration of Independence states: We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal. American’s hearts were warmed by the knowledge that the couple standing before them truly loved each other and The White House on Pennsylvania Avenue would once again be filled with children—an American family they could all look up to.

  As the cameras scanned over the crowd, the commentator spoke in awe of the array of people and the hope that America had become, truly one nation under God. Every ethnic group imaginable stood side by side cheering at the prospect of having a better future under the leadership of Jeffrey Daniel Harrison, President of the United States.

  A hush came over the crowd as they waited to hear the words from the man who they believed had jumped the first hurdle to becoming the new leader of the free world. Every eye was looking toward the stage where the Harrison family and friends smiled brightly. The attendees waited patiently, anticipating the words of encouragement and hope they had become accustomed to receiving from the young man facing them.

  Jeffrey Daniel Harrison, better known to all as JD, returned to the podium, smiled and looked at the eager faces in the crowed. “Marrying my wife was the smartest thing I have ever done.” He bowed his head and chuckled, “Her love has made me rich beyond my imagination in so many ways. The most prominent is being able to stand before you today and accept the faith you have placed in me, to be the next President of the United States of America.” The crowd cheered wildly, peaking to a frenzy, as JD scanned the room smiling.

  A Secret Service agent whispered into his earpiece. “We have another President with rock star status, we need to tighten up.” At the command the agents on the stage moved closer to the family, as more agents entered into the room at floor level and spread throughout the crowd of thousands. JD continued with his speech as the agents moved about unnoticed, but vigilant. Midway through the speech, JD reached down to pick up his two-year-old daughter, Gabrielle who was tugging at his pants. She captured his cheeks between her small hands and kissed her daddy. As the crowd clapped, Gabrielle joined in smiling. JD smiled at his daughter and turned back to his speech. She then laid her head on his shoulder, put her thumb in her mouth and listened as her daddy talked.

  Brian Thompson, the President-Elect’s personal bodyguard, scanned the room from his position directly behind JD. His trained eyes took in each level of the room searching for anything he considered a threat to the family on stage. After scanning the top levels of seats, his eyes drifted to the rafters, where some of the television cameramen took shots of the crowd below. A stream of light caught his eye as he scanned over the cameras. It was only a split second that it took his eyes to go back to light, another second for recognition, then one more second for his body to react before shots rang out, with center stage as their target. The loud sound of the automatic weapons continued to flow through the air like shock waves. Awe and then screams filled the room.

  Secret Service sprang into action, covering the children and Tracy as ordered by the President-Elect. JD covered Gabrielle as Brian immediately hit him from behind propelling him forward. He hit the floor with Gabrielle beneath him and that’s when he heard a heart-wrenching scream that he was certain came from Tracy. With Brian and agents’ bodies surrounding him, his movement was limited and his line of sight was blocked. Reaching out he grabbed her hand, “Tracy!” he yelled out, to no avail. When the firing stopped, the room was half-empty, the crowd was still buzzing and agents were surrounding the stage with weapons drawn. JD looked down at Gabrielle, who was now crying. “It’s alright Gabby, Daddy has you. It’s alright.” He held her tightly as he scrambled to stand. Tracy was pulling her hand from his frantically reaching for something. Following her line of vision, he saw the blood and his heart literally stopped.

  The frenzy that followed was all a blur as JD scrambled to get to the body on the floor next to Tracy. His mind snapped as he realized his worst nightmare had occurred. How would he live his life knowing he was responsible for the events happening at that moment? How many lives would come to an end on that night, trying to accomplish a dream?

  Chapter 1

  Six months earlier

  Al “Turk” Day was living proof that any person with a heart had the propensity for violence. Even a mild- mannered skinny kid from the North Side of Richmond, Virginia could become a cold-blooded murderer if the person he loves i
s threatened. Al wasn’t one of the cool kids in elementary or middle school. How could he be with a name like Albert? To top things off he was a genius at the age of ten. Anything he read he could repeat verbatim. He could run numbers better and faster than any bookie in Las Vegas or on the street. Adding to his uncool status, he lived with his grandmother, his older sisters, Valarie and Joan, and was the baby of the family, at least in this house. Cool, he was not. Hell, he didn’t even have a mother, not a real one anyway. The woman that gave birth to them only appeared once a year around the holidays or when she needed something. He had a simple life with his grandmother, his sisters and books. He loved books.

  At thirteen that simple life was turned upside down when his grandmother suddenly passed away. Almost immediately after his grandmother’s funeral, Al and his sisters were moved to Norfolk, Virginia to live with his mother, Lena, and their stepfather, Billy Washington. Life changed quickly. At his grandmother’s house they came home from school to a house filled with love, a firm hand and dinner. At Lena’s, that’s what he called his mother, there was no firm hand for they rarely saw her. Thanks to Valarie, who had learned to cook from their grandmother, there was food to eat. As for love, well that came to Al in the form of a pint size five-year-old little sister he had met once when his mother came home for Thanksgiving. That was the year he earned his nickname, Turk.

  On that particular Thanksgiving, Lena had come home with her then three-year-old daughter, Tracy. Her husband, she said, was spending the holiday with his family. The family still didn’t believe Lena was married, but hey who cared. He was around nine and they were all at his Grandmother John’s house. Grandma John, yes her name was John Russell, had cooked the turkey for dinner and left it on the kitchen table. Tracy, whom he called Sugie, was sitting on the steps playing with her doll when he came in from playing.

  “Sugie, did grandma cook?”

  She nodded her head and pointed to the kitchen and said, “Table.”

  Hungry from playing hard outside, he walked through the swing doors into the kitchen and started eating the only thing that was on the table—the turkey.

  Grandma John walked in the kitchen and Al smiled up at her with a turkey wing in his hand. “The turkey is good, Grandma.”

  His grandmother looked at that turkey then at him. “Boy!” she yelled. “You ate my turkey.”

  From the tone of his grandmother’s voice he knew he was in trouble. Before he could explain, she grabbed him off the stool and commenced to whipping his behind. Sugie came running into the kitchen and just stood in the doorway with a scared look on her face. After whipping his behind, his grandmother stood him in the doorway. “Stay there,” she said as she fussed and tried to salvage what was left of the turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. Lena came running through the swing doors and stopped dead in her tracks.

  She looked at the children standing in the doorway. “Where’s the rest of the turkey?”

  Sugie looked up at her and pointed to her brother’s stomach. “Turkey.”

  Lena looked at the turkey, then looked at him and fell out laughing. Ever since then, his baby sister called him Turkey.

  The first day at Lena’s house was awkward until Tracy came in from kindergarten. She walked in the door holding her father’s hand and looked around the room at the people. When her eyes landed on him sitting on the sofa, she giggled and ran to him with her arms open wide.

  He picked her up and sat her on the sofa next to him. She smiled and pointed at his stomach. “Turk?”

  He smiled back. “Hi, Sugie.”

  Without saying another word, she crawled up in his lap, put her thumb in her mouth and went to sleep. His baby sister made him feel loved, wanted, and needed. Now he was a big brother, it was his job to protect her. She also gave him a way to be cool. Tracy changed his name, but he knew the name Turkey would give him more grief. So the first day of freshman year at high school, when the teacher asked what name he wanted to be called, he replied, “Al.” That was the same day he met his friend Tucker.

  Because of his test scores, Al was placed in all advanced classes at the new school. When he walked into his first class it was a culture shock. His old school was predominately Black. The AP Algebra class consisted of fourteen Caucasian males and females, two Black girls and one Black male. Naturally Al migrated to the back of the room with the brother.

  “Al Day.” He introduced himself with a slight nod of his head.

  “Donovan Tucker. What’s up, man?”

  Al looked around the class, leaned over and asked, “Where are the brothers and sisters?”

  Tucker smirked. “Very few have been in my class since the first day of middle school.”

  “What’s up with that?” Al questioned.

  “These are advanced classes. You don’t see brothers and only one or two sisters in here.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not cool to be smart.”

  Al leaned back in his seat and huffed. “I’m cool.”

  “Yeah? Well welcome to the smart-ass cool class.” The two laughed.

  “Is there a problem back there, Mr. Tucker?” The teacher asked in an accusing tone.

  “No sir. No problem,” Tucker replied.

  “Well,” he hesitated, “Maybe your new friend will not mind sharing with the class what type of equation is written on the board.” He asked in an arrogant tone.

  Tucker whispered, “He’s trying to piss you off by putting you on the spot.”

  Al looked at the board. “It’s a quadratic equation.” He turned back to Tucker. “Why would he want to do that?

  “To get you kicked out of his class. He doesn’t believe the brothers are smart enough to be in his class.”

  “Good guess.” The teacher stated. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to solve the equation for us.”

  Al looked at Tucker as he stood. “Watch the cool kid at work.” He walked up to the board frowning. Turning to the teacher he asked, “Factoring or Square Root Method?”

  The teacher’s eyes narrowed. “Square Root,” he replied with a smirk.

  Al took the chalk from the teacher, “Thank you.” After a moment, Al read the equation to the class, then proceeded to give a step by step break down as he solved it. When he finished, he put chalk on the board tray and returned to his seat. The teacher examined the equation on the board and turned to Al. “I’m impressed, Mr.?”

  “Day, Al Day.”

  “Mr. Day. Forgive me for questioning your abilities.”

  Al leaned back in his seat. “I’m cool,” he grinned. One of the sisters that were sitting up front turned to him and smiled. Al winked and she turned back around. He held his fist out in the aisle. Tucker gave him a pound and they both turned back to the teacher grinning. As it turned out Al and Tucker were in every class together.

  Refocusing on the events taking place around him, Al wondered for at least the hundredth time today, how in the hell did fate put him in this place and time? Watching the last minute activities taking place over the rolling lawn of the Brooks’ Estate where his sister Tracy now called home, the events leading to this moment played in his mind like an old black and white movie. The multitude of people that gathered for the announcement seemed to fade as his life replayed in slow motion. The announcement the world was holding baited breath to hear as evidenced by the many television camera crews, political commentators, and reporters that were present.

  Nothing in Al’s life indicated he should be in this place. Most in law enforcement would have placed odds that he would be dead before reaching his twentieth birthday. But Al had beaten the odds in more ways than one. He’d led a life of intrigue since the age of fourteen. Fifteen years as the leader of one of the most successful street organizations to date, four years in prison, and the last five years organizing communities to help combat gang violence. No, he should not be a VIP at the announcement of a candidate being declared the Democratic Nominee for President of the United States. Only a hand full of people k
new Al was the reason the man who was about to be introduced would have the opportunity to change all their lives. Al would never admit or take credit for it. However, on this warm June evening, he was as proud as a father watching his baby emerge into the world.

  Al closed his eyes and hung his head. His shoulder length locs covered his face shielding his thoughts. His stance, legs braced apart, arms folded across his chest, was relaxed to him, but to others it may have seemed intimidating. That’s what his past life dictated, that others fear him. His past was the reason he really was the last person on earth that should be standing there. He shook his head at the thought. His brother-in-law, JD Harrison, now ex-Governor of Virginia, refused to treat him like an unwanted relative. No, JD was a special man in Al’s book. But then, only a special man would be good enough for his baby sister.

  A smile creased the face of his caramel brown skin. It took him a moment to accept the reality that the two were destined to be together. After all, this was his baby sister, the one that he put his life on the line to protect. The one he killed for and would kill again for if it were deemed necessary. Al’s and JD’s lives were irrevocably intertwined on that day over twenty-years ago before either of them knew of each other. It all began the summer he turned fourteen.