Jezebel Read online

  JEZEBEL

  NOVELS BY JACQUELIN THOMAS

  Defining Moments

  Redemption

  Jezebel

  JEZEBEL

  JACQUELIN THOMAS

  NAL Praise

  Published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA • Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi–110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by NAL Praise, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Copyright © Jacquelin Thomas, 2008

  Readers Guide copyright © Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2008

  All rights reserved

  NAL Praise and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International

  Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. The “NIV” and “New International Version”

  trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by International Bible Society.

  Use of either trademark requires the permission of International Bible Society.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

  Thomas, Jacquelin.

  Jezebel / Jacquelin Thomas.

  p. cm.

  ISBN: 978-1-1012-1196-0

  1. African American women—Fiction. 2. Spouses of clergy—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3570.H5637J47 2008

  813’.54—dc22 2007035519

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

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

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  To Courtney, Camille, Alyssa,

  Larika, Mahalia and Angelica—

  I love you all!

  And also concerning Jezebel the LORD says:

  “Dogs will devour Jezebel by the wall of Jezreel.”

  —1 KINGS 21:23

  (NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION)

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  HER CHARACTER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HER TRIUMPHS

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  HER TRAGEDY

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  HER REDEMPTION

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  PROLOGUE

  Blinding tears rolled down her cheeks, but Jessie Belle Deveraux was unable to wipe them away because her lead-laden arms weren’t any use to her. She continued to sink deeper into depression.

  I’m paying dearly for my sins.

  The thought reverberated through her mind over and over again, bringing on more tears.

  I can’t even wipe my own nose. Lord, please have mercy on my soul and take me out of my misery.

  Jessie Belle would prefer to have died from the fall that left her completely paralyzed to being imprisoned in a wheelchair with her life slowly draining away. She’d thought she’d made peace with her situation, but feeling the way she did—she hadn’t.

  The nurse entered the bedroom carrying a stack of clean towels. She took one look at Jessie Belle and dropped them on a nearby chair, asking, “Mrs. Deveraux…what’s wrong?”

  Humiliated, Jessie Belle felt like a helpless babe while Helen gently wiped her face.

  “I h-hate being like this, H-Helen. I c-can’t even wipe m-my own nose,” she managed between sobs. “There was a time when I was on the top of the world and now…now I’m nothing more than deadweight.”

  “Mrs. Deveraux, you can still have a full life.”

  Jessie Belle shook her head. “Helen, I chose to harden my heart and betray the people I loved the most, and now I have to suffer the consequences. Although nobody has said it—I know they feel the same way I do. They think I’m reaping exactly what I sowed.”

  “Nobody’s thinking that, Mrs. Deveraux,” Helen countered. “You are a real sweet lady. I can see that.”

  Shaking her head, Jessie Belle stated, “You didn’t know me back then. I was a terrible person.”

  Helen raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, Mrs. Deveraux, I can’t believe that. You’re just going through a little depression right now.”

  “It’s true, Helen,” she insisted. “Do you know what they used to call me? Jezebel. People called me a Jezebel.”

  “But why? I don’t believe you’d ever cheat on your husband.”

  “Jezebel was a powerful queen when she was alive, but hardly anything remained of her after her death. It wasn’t about sex for her—it was power and control. She was tossed over a balcony for her many sins, trampled by horses and eaten by dogs. Did you know that there’s a Jezebel spirit?”

  When Helen shook her head no, Jessie Belle continued. “There is. An
yone who worships money, earthly treasures or power is vulnerable to this spirit. I should know, because it consumed me and at the time I didn’t care. It took nearly losing my husband and my son to motivate a change in me, but by then a lot of people had been hurt—a lot of damage done.” She gulped hard, fighting back more tears.

  “If I’m to be honest—Jezebel and I had a lot in common. Oh, I was really something—a force to be reckoned with, for sure. Helen, all I cared about was what I wanted. Back then, I didn’t care who I stepped on,” Jessie Belle murmured. She paused a moment before adding, “The person that pushed me over the balcony—I don’t blame them.”

  Her nurse sat there, stunned by what Jessie Belle was saying.

  “You wouldn’t have liked me, Helen.” Jessie Belle suddenly felt the urge to bare her soul. “My mama used to say all the time to tell the truth and shame the devil. That’s what I’m about to do. It all started when I was eighteen years old….”

  HER CHARACTER

  CHAPTER ONE

  June 1970

  Mayville, Georgia

  Eighteen-year-old Jessie Belle Holt knew that her laughter sounded like sweet music to the ears of that ol’ nasty Ezra Josiah Jones.

  All she had to do was giggle at his stupid jokes, bend down low enough to give him a glimpse of her youthful, full, round breasts and show off her shapely legs to have the pervert exactly where she wanted him. He was a beady-eyed mouse of a man itching to sample her goods and was always trying to get her on that cot he kept in the storeroom of his dress shop.

  “Deacon Jones, you so funny,” Jessie Belle cooed, making a conscious effort to lick her full lips. She’d read in one of her many fashion magazines that men found the act sexy.

  He wiped away beads of perspiration from his face with a dingy white handkerchief. Ezra Jones glanced quickly over his shoulder, then back at Jessie Belle, mumbling, “Gal…you do things to me. I could just sop you up with a biscuit.”

  She giggled. “What on earth are you talking about, Deacon? I’m not doing a thing.”

  “Why don’t you come by the store tomorrow? Tell your parents that I need you to help out with the inventory,” he suggested. “Let me show you….”

  Jessie Belle pretended to be coy. “Deacon Jones, you still have that cute lil’ dress—the pink one with the green and white flowers? I sho’ like that dress.” If the dress was gone, there was no need for her to continue this disgusting ruse.

  He nodded furiously. “Uh-huh. It’s still there. Somethin’ like that would sho’ look mighty pretty on you.”

  Leaning forward so that her breast touched his arm, she whispered in his ear, “I really like that dress, Deacon Jones. That mean ol’ wife of yours—she told me it was too expensive for the likes of me.” She stuck out her lips in a pout. “She really hurt my feelings when she told me that.”

  At the mention of his wife, Ezra’s expression soured. “You don’t worry your pretty little head about Agnes. She always been a spiteful wench. I’ll take care of everything. You just come by the store tomorrow.” Grinning, he added, “Work a few hours doing some inventory for me.”

  “Will she be there?” Jessie Belle questioned. She and Mrs. Jones didn’t care for each other. She knows her man has the hots for me. Ain’t no point in being mad with me, though. It’s not my fault if she can’t hold on to her man or keep him happy.

  “Naw. She gon’ be visiting with her kin down in Albany for a couple of days. You come on by the store. Okay?”

  Before Jessie Belle could respond, she heard a noise coming from behind Ezra. She peeked around the nasty-minded deacon to find her mother glaring at them.

  Pushing him away, she straightened her dress and said, “Ma…Deacon Jones was just telling me another one of his jokes.”

  “The deacon needs to tend to his wife,” her mother stated coldly. “Agnes is looking for you.”

  “Thank you, Miss Anabeth.” He brushed past her, walking as fast as he could, but not before Jessie Belle’s mother saw the evidence of his arousal.

  Bristling, Anabeth walked up to Jessie Belle, pinching her hard on the arm. “What are you thinking, gal? Your daddy could’ve been the one walking back here instead of me.”

  Straightening her dress, Jessie Belle said, “I wasn’t gon’ do nothing with him. All we was doing is talking.”

  “Humph,” Anabeth grunted. “I know what Ezra was after and it weren’t no conversation. He used to try and get me into corners. Jessie Belle, you’ve got to be careful if you want to marry well. You’re only eighteen years old and already been pregnant twice. No God-fearing man will want you. If you’d listen to me and keep those long legs of yours closed…”

  Running her fingers through her naturally curly, medium brown hair, Jessie Belle responded, “I’m beautiful and I’m smart, Ma. I really don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about being without a man.”

  Anabeth Holt patted her own brown hair, which was lightly sprinkled with gray throughout. “Well, if it’s a good husband you’re wanting—we can only pray for some kind stranger to come to town and marry you. And we’ll have to trick him on your wedding night, I’m ashamed to say. How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to give up the goodies to get what you want?”

  Practically dragging Jessie Belle along, Anabeth stated, “Your father’s waiting for us. C’mon.”

  A couple of church members glanced in their direction and began whispering as they walked by.

  Jessie Belle knew they were talking about her, but she didn’t care. Anybody who couldn’t do anything for her was nothing more than a blot occupying space needlessly as far as she was concerned.

  “I wouldn’t be looking so hard in this direction,” Anabeth told the women. “You need to be watching your own fast-tail daughters. You so busy trying to stir my grits—your own pot boiling over.”

  Jessie Belle broke into a short laugh.

  Pinching her arm, Anabeth uttered, “Shush, gal. It ain’t funny. Hearing the things people saying about you nearly breaks your daddy heart. He don’t like people gossiping about you like that.”

  “And you think I do?”

  “Then stop giving them stuff to talk about,” Anabeth advised. “Save yourself for somebody worth something and not just taking up space on God’s green earth. Find a man worthy of you.”

  Slowing her pace, Anabeth asked, “Are you listening to me, Jessie Belle?”

  “Yeah, Ma. I heard you.”

  “I mean it. We’ve already had to get rid of that one baby…. God, forgive me, but I couldn’t let you keep shaming your daddy. At least the good Lawd took the second one naturally.”

  Her father never knew about her babies—her mother made sure of that. She took Jessie Belle to Atlanta, where some back-alley doctor eliminated her burden the first time. The second time, she miscarried. The father of both babies turned out to be a jerk, so everything happened for the best.

  Living the rest of her life in Mayville, Georgia, was not on Jessie Belle Holt’s agenda. She felt she deserved better—that’s what her mother always told her.

  “Marry a man that’s got something, Jessie Belle, even if you don’t love him.” Anabeth pulled a thin compact mirror out of her purse and checked her face. “Love will come later, if he a good man.”

  Satisfied with her appearance, she put it away. “You know I coulda married a doctor. He came through town when your daddy was courting me. He came from a wealthy family and was a real handsome man. Had a nice big car. All your daddy had was that old truck—the same one rusting in the backyard now. That doctor sho’ nuff wanted me, but instead I married for love and look where it got me.”

  “Aren’t you happy with Papa?” Jessie Belle wanted to know.

  Anabeth nodded. “I love your daddy, but the truth of it is that I could’ve been just as happy if we’d lived in a nice big house somewhere in a big city or had some money.” Anabeth’s gaze met her daughter’s. “Never settle for less than what you deserve.”

 
A flash of regret shone brightly in Anabeth’s eyes, but was gone.

  “I won’t,” Jessie Belle vowed.

  Jessie Belle hid in her bedroom from the moment they arrived home. She didn’t feel like helping her mother with the cooking. Normally she loved being in the kitchen, but today Jessie Belle just wanted to relax and fantasize about her future.

  She primped and posed in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom, studying her reflection, mimicking the models in the latest fashion magazine.

  Jessie Belle was extremely proud of her tawny skin color, her dark gray eyes and her full lips, but hated the tiny mole painted in the corner of her top lip. To Jessie Belle, it marred her otherwise perfect complexion.

  Smiling, Jessie Belle ran her fingers through her warm chocolate curls. She heard her father calling her name and sighed.

  “Gal, c’mon out that room. Help your ma in the kitchen.”

  She groaned. Once I’m gone—I’m never coming back here to this old shack of a house.

  Jessie Belle couldn’t stand the smell of her home. It smelled old and no amount of air fresheners or deodorizers could rid the house of its natural odor.

  Jessie Belle muttered a curse, strolled out of her room and headed down the hall to the kitchen. Her mother didn’t glance up from what she was doing, but said, “You make the potato salad, gal. Your daddy likes the way you make it. He thinks I put way too much mustard in it.”