Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell, #1)

“Sam –”

Suddenly, he rolled me and when he was on top and I got a good look at his face, I knew instantly something profound had changed.

“Learn from them, baby,” he whispered. “You got one life, never use it just to breathe.”

I stared in his face, his intensity seared into me and it hit me that he was so right.

I had one life and I lived it for seven years doing nothing but focusing on each day, each breath, not living my dreams, not seeking excitement, not pursuing happiness, not searching for my slice of heaven.

I was done just breathing.

“We’ll be quiet,” I whispered back, Sam grinned his approval then he kissed me.

*

I woke up in a bed that didn’t include Sam or Memphis.

Then I looked at the alarm clock and saw I’d slept in. Sam was either out walking Memphis or he was already at the gym.

I rolled out of bed, did my bathroom thing, grabbed my fabulous robe and shrugged it on.

I was tying the belt, my bare feet silent on Sam’s wood floors, just about to round the railing to hit the stairs when I heard it.

“I did not raise an idle son.”

I stopped dead.

That was Maris and she sounded pissed.

I was more than mildly shocked. I knew from what Sam told me and what I’d seen of her that she was not a weak woman. I had no idea how she was before Sam and Ben ousted their father. I just knew from Sam’s stories that she blossomed after that and everything about her was proof. She was happy. She dressed well. She lived well. She had a great sense of humor and an easy smile. She worked and enjoyed what she did. She was her own boss. And she raised two boys who turned into fine men.

But she was like Sam, albeit with a bit of feminine drama, she was mostly laidback, good-humored and easygoing.

At her tone I learned she was just like her son. In other words, she could get pissed.

“Ma, Kia’s up,” Sam returned on a low growl I still heard from my position on the stairs.

“So?” Maris replied and I started backing up.

“I’d say we’d talk about this later but we’re not fuckin’ talkin’ about this later. We’re not talkin’ about this at all,” Sam declared.

“Do not use that tone and language with me, Sampson August Cooper,” she snapped.

“You’re standin’ in my kitchen, in my home talkin’ about my life with my woman awake upstairs. Do not fuckin’ tell me how to behave in my own goddamned home,” Sam shot back on a continued, infuriated growl.

Now I was even more shocked. Shocked stone-still. Sam loved his mother. I couldn’t believe he was speaking to her like that.

“Of the many things I’d like to know, now I’d like to know why you’re so concerned Kia is going to hear us,” Maris stated.

“That’s none of your business either,” Sam returned.

Ohmigod.

“I don’t like that, Sam. Kia is –” she started.

He cut her off, “My woman and my business. Not yours.”

Yikes.

“I cannot believe you just said that to me,” Maris whispered, sounding hurt.

“I did.” Sam didn’t hesitate to confirm.

Ohmigod!

Maris was silent.

I decided to tiptoe back to Sam’s room.

I didn’t even get started. This was because Maris broke her silence.

“You cannot go on like you are.”

What did that mean?

“I can do whatever the fuck I wanna do. It’s my life, Ma. You gave it to me but that doesn’t mean you get to lead it.”

Um… ouch.

“You have no focus, Sam, no purpose, no drive. You’re drifting through life. That is not my son,” she returned instantly.

“Honest to God?” Sam fired back and I knew by his tone she’d pushed him close to the edge. “You do not know what I got or what I don’t got, Ma. And I’m tellin’ you whatever that is, it’s none of your damn business.”

God, I needed to get out of there.

So I did. Carefully rushing back to Sam’s room so as not to make any noise, I stopped in it and frantically tried to figure out what to do. Then I noticed the floor was empty except for the rug. As usual, Sam had picked up his clothes and taken them to the walk-in. So I went to the closet and rooted around in the pile of Sam and my tangled, dirty clothes. I got a bunch of darks, enough to make a load and headed out.

On the landing, I called, “Maris, see you’re up. I know you just got here but I’m doing a load of darks. Do you have anything that needs to be cleaned?”

Memphis yapped and ran up the stairs to meet me halfway.

Hap grunted, “Fuckin’ A, am I at a bus depot? What’s up with all the noise?”

I made it to the bottom of the stairs and saw him hanging over the back of the couch, scowling. I smiled brightly at him and hoped he was hungover enough not to notice it was forced.

“Morning, Hap,” I greeted cheerily.

“Fuck,” he muttered, flopped back and thus disappeared.

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