Fifteen Years Read Online Free Page A

blanketed the table that neither man seemed in a hurry to end. Josiah drank more water, and Craig sat back in his seat and folded his arms in front of him as if to say he now understood.
    “Just be thankful for Danielle,” Josiah finally mumbled. “Virtuous women don’t exactly come a dime a dozen.”
    Craig shrugged. “Yeah, Dani’s a big-time blessing, that’s for sure. In my unattached days, I found out that even the good ones aren’t always godly. You never know what they do behind closed doors.”
    “You never know
…” Josiah’s thoughts came spilling out before he could stop them. It seemed like it never mattered what the conversation topic was on any given day, his mind would always eventually bring his mother into it. Reeva tried to be a good woman; she really did. But why couldn’t she have been godly too? Why had she had to be such a waste of human flesh?
    The table was eerily quiet. Josiah knew that his friend had quickly concluded that it was better that he not reply at all. And he was probably right.
    Craig was the one person who Josiah had trusted with his complete life’s story. How he was born with tremors that were caused by the cocaine in his bloodstream. How as a child, he was left at home alone more times than the state ever knew about. He was only six years old the first time he’d been taken from Reeva, and the pattern continued with Josiah being removed from his home a half-dozen times. Those six separations totaled nine years that he’d spent in the households of foster families because of his mother’s substance dependence.
    Craig and Josiah had been best friends since they were line brothers pledging Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. as sophomores at UNC. They were so different, yet so much alike. Except for his physical makeup, nothing about Craig said he was Caucasian. His mother divorced his biological father when he was two years old, and by the time Craig was five, his mom had remarried. His stepfather was black, and by all definitions, so were Craig’s two youngersisters. His mother’s remarriage changed everything. It resulted in him relocating to a predominately black neighborhood and subsequently, attending predominately black public schools for all of his formative years. Craig had told Josiah that he and his mother were the only two white members of the church he grew up in but that nothing about it felt unnatural to him.
    Craig was definitely a product of his environment, and he seemed to have no qualms about it. He was the only white male on Josiah’s line, pledging Alpha Phi Alpha, and ultimately became the only white Alpha man on the campus of UNC. He wore the label with pride. He largely hung out with black students, had the vernacular of an African American, and was only attracted to black women. But no one ever accused him of “trying to be black,” at least not openly. He was just being Craig Wilson. It was who he was.
    He was also the only person Josiah had told the entire twelve-year-old story of how his mother had been strangled by an unknown john who police figured had paid for his time with her, and then killed her to get his money back. He took any other money that she’d had on her person at the time too. Alcohol and drugs were in Reeva’s system at the time of her death, so she probably never even had a fighting chance. Her lifeless body was found in one of those big green trash bins that could be found all over the city. Reeva’s naked corpse was wrapped in the same blanket on which the police determined she’d performed her last sexual assignment. To her murderous client, she’d been nothing more than garbage.
    Josiah pushed his plate toward the center of the table. “Let’s go.” The memories were making him sick to his stomach. His appetite was completely gone, and the remaining fried chicken fingers that he loved wouldn’t get eaten today.
    Looking down at his plate of baby back ribs, Craig frowned.He’d ordered a full rack and only had a