“Are you on South Main?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s an accident ahead.”
“Yeah, we’re stuck in the traffic.” There’s silence on the other side of the phone. “Nick?”
“Wylla was in the accident …”
FUCK!
A chill runs up my spine. Remi throws me a glance, and then we’re both out of the car, breaking into a run. Even though I’m a runner, Remi is much faster, so he gets ahead, leaving me behind. The cold air hits me, and I refuse to think of anything. I refuse to ask anything. Nothing can happen to her. God. Nothing can happen to that little girl. My blood pumps, and I keep my gaze ahead on the road.
Remi comes to an abrupt halt, reaching the front of the ambulance. His face twists before letting it fall in his hands. He buckles. His knees give out, landing him behind the van.
My steps falter. My heartbeat accelerates. My trembling fingers press against the van for support as I take one slow step after the other, my heart hammering in my chest and my gaze fixed on the road. I round the ambulance to see Wylla sitting inside on an EMS stretcher, while the paramedics are checking her. A gasp shoots out of me, and a lump forms at the back of my throat. Remi and Nicholas are both standing outside the van. Remi’s hand is holding Wylla’s foot—like he just needs to hold her somehow. And Nicholas’s ticcing jaw indicates that he’s ready to murder someone.
Wylla lifts her head to look at me. Her eyebrows crease, and she blinks slowly, taking me in. “Kaci,” she says, her voice hoarse. A slow, weak smile spreads over her face. The relief that settles over me is inexplicable. I release my fists held tightly to my side.
I thought I was going to find her dead.
“Wylla …” Tears swarm my eyes, realizing what could have happened to this little girl. I don’t know how it happened, but I’ve come to care about Wylla.
“I’m fine.” Her whisper ends with a wince as the woman cleans the small wound on her forehead.
A police officer approaches us, and Remi introduces himself as Wylla’s brother. The officer takes him to the side for questioning. After being declared fine by the paramedics, Nicholas gets in the ambulance and lays a kiss on Wylla’s forehead. I follow inside and sit down next to him. My fingers brush some of the hair on Wylla’s face, and she grabs my pinkie. “I’m glad you’re here, Kaci.”
I bring her hand to my mouth and press a gentle kiss. “I’m glad you’re okay, Wylla.” I give her a smile and feel my pocket vibrate. I take my phone out to see Candee’s name on the screen.
Mother Francis!
Swiping right, I press the phone to my ear—a mistake.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”
Recoiling, I pull the phone away and cautiously bring it back. I steal a glance at Nicholas, who has his eyebrows drawn together—there’s nothing new about this look, but thankfully, he’s looking down at Wylla. So, I get back to my friend. “Candee …”
“Oh great, she’s alive! Where the hell are you? It’s fucking midnight. You didn’t tell me where you were going, and I called you twenty-three times, and you didn’t pick up. Unless you’re with Mr. Kizomba and he’s giving you toe-curling, eye-rolling, vagina-exploding orgasms, you come to the dorm right now! I’m freaking out.”
A smile twists at my lips, happy to see her caring side. I take a deep breath. “Candee … please don’t freak out, I’m—”
She gasps at the other end. “YOU’RE DYING?”
My gaze jumps to Nicholas, gauging if he’s hearing all of this, and by the way his lips are pressing a smile down, he knows it’s Candee on the other side. “What? No. I’m—”
“SOMEONE KIDNAPPED YOU?”
Wylla snickers and slaps her hand over her mouth to cover it. Of course, they can hear her, she’s probably waking the dead with that yelling. I exhale a long breath and speak through my teeth, “Will you please listen to me?”
She stays silent on the other side, and just when I think I can speak, she beats me to it. “OH MY GOD. YOU KILLED SOMEONE?”
“Who is that?” I hear Wylla whisper-ask Nicholas.
“Kaci’s roommate.”
“Nicholas is sitting beside me, and he can hear everything you’re saying, so if you’d like to hurl a few more speculations, please, be my guest.” I know I’m being an ass, but I seriously needed her to stop spewing nonsense.
Silence. I knew that would shut her up. Wylla’s large eyes jump from me to a fidgeting Nicholas.
“Listen, Candee. There has been a tiny—very tiny—car accident, and everyone is fine. We are all perfectly fine, but we need to head to the police station right now. Okay? So, it’ll take some time for me to come back. Please, do not worry, okay?”
Silence.
“You’re with Nicholas?”
I look up and pray for patience. A glance at my watch tells me it’s past midnight, so maybe that’s why she’s a little slow to understand. “Yes, Candee.”
“And there’s been a car accident?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“What kind of things were you two doing in that car?” Her voice pierces my eardrums, probably causing permanent damage—I’m almost sure of it.
Wylla squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a full belly laugh, and Nicholas simply lowers his head, maybe thinking what kind of a pair we both are. But then I notice his shoulders shaking, and I roll my eyes.
“We were not in the same car. Another car had an accident, and yes, we’re involved in the accident, and no, please don’t ask how, why, or what. I’ll tell you everything in explicit detail when I get back. For now, please don’t speculate. And go to sleep.”
“Like, yeah, I’ll be sleeping like a baby after everything you’ve just said.”
“Try.” I disconnect the phone, put it back in my pocket, and exhale a long breath.
“That’s your friend?” Wylla asks, still giggling.
“Yeah. Her name’s Candee.”
Her eyes widen at that. “Like the one we eat.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
She nods. “She sounds fun.”
“Oh, she is,” I confirm, sending a quick look to Nicholas, gauging his reaction. He simply shakes his head, pressing down a smile.
There’s a commotion, and we see some police officers pulling their handguns out, taking their positions, ready to fire at whoever is approaching. I glance at Remi to see a storm building around him as he looks at the person approaching.
“We need you to put that gun down,” one officer shouts.
“Not before she has handcuffs on,” an old, gravelly voice drawls.
“Leave me alone. I didn’t do anything,” a woman sobs.
“Margaret!” Nicholas’s venomous growl freezes me in place.
#MotherFoxes
FOURTEEN
#MrsDunlopIsBadass
Mrs. Dunlop has a motorcycle—a Yamaha Star Venture Cruiser. In fact, she can fucking ride it. Oh, and she has a revolver too. I really need to get a life.
“What do you mean, I kidnapped her?”
Margaret is on the ground as an officer tries to handcuff her, tears wetting her cheeks as she babbles. “She’s my daughter, and he kidnapped her. He kidnapped her. Kept her away from me. From her own mother. I want my daughter back. D’you all hear me? I WANT WYLLA BACK!”
Her screams silence everyone except for Remi. “I’m going to kill you.”
“I’ll help,” Mrs. Dunlop rasps, despite being in handcuffs. Her frown tries to pierce a hole in Margaret before she returns to the officer who is interviewing her.
My hand shoots to Remi, preventing him from threatening Margaret in front of the officers. “You were driving a fucking car while on drugs. YOU HAD AN ACCIDENT, MARGARET. Wylla was hurt.”
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step back.”
“She’s not hurt. I’ll never hurt my baby.” Margaret’s gaze flickers from Mrs. Dunlop to Remi and stops at the officer next to Remi.
“She was hurt. Can’t you see it? Inste
ad of making sure she was okay, you left her in the car, and you ran away. And you had the audacity to ask her to cover for you, Margaret. To say she was in that car alone?”
“Remi,” Nicholas interrupts, grabbing Remi’s elbow and making him take a few steps back.
Based on what I could gather so far, Margaret has been watching Wylla, Remi, and Nicholas for a few weeks now. The other day, when she “dropped by,” it was no accident. She came to gauge the house and the neighbors. That was why she knew when Wylla would be alone at home. Somehow, in her drugged state, she was able to drag Wylla to her car—a stolen car. But she couldn’t drive very far. She crashed into the guardrails. Fortunately, Wylla came out with a small wound, and unfortunately, Margaret didn’t die then and there—Mrs. Dunlop’s words. Then, she panicked, and she asked Wylla to cover for her, and she ran away from there. She freaking ran away.
Mrs. Dunlop heard Wylla’s scream back at the apartment, and by the time she loaded her revolver, Margaret and Wylla were already gone, but she still got on her motorcycle, and she was able to catch Margaret. She held Margaret at gunpoint and forced her to walk until here, to the accident scene, knowing that Wylla must have been hurt.
I need to take life lessons from this woman.
Remi turns to the officer. “Please, let me take my sister home.”
The officer shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, sir. We have to follow the procedures.”
“What procedures?”
The officer begins to explain how Wylla will be taken by CPS, Child Protective Services, and unless the police produce enough proof against Margaret, Wylla will be returned to her mother. However, Margaret is a drug addict, she kidnapped Wylla, stole a car, and had an accident—enough evidence against her to prove she’s a bad parent. That will allow Remi to have custody of Wylla, providing he can support her.
But until then, Wylla isn’t going home.
#HeartbreakHasaFace
FIFTEEN
#TeamWylla
With his hands clasped behind his back, Remi addresses the class. “First, I need to tell you how thankful I am to have all of you here. I love dancing, and being able to share this joy with you all is like a dream, but today, I’m standing here to ask you for a favor.”
Murmurs swirl around the room, and Agatha speaks, “What’s the matter, dear?”
“I have a sister, she’s eight. She’s my soul, my everything.”
Remi tells the class the abridged version of who Margaret is and how she kidnapped Wylla the previous night. “Margaret is a drug addict, which means she’s unstable, and I don’t trust her with Wylla. My sister and I live together, and Margaret lives separately, but since she’s our mother, she has rights over Wylla. We tried to press charges against her for kidnapping Wylla once before. However, we didn’t have enough proof to show that Margaret was endangering Wylla, so the police said we didn’t have a case. Then, the other night, she did it again.” Gasps echo across the room. “But this time, the evidence against her is strong, and I’m fighting to get Wylla’s custody.”
“Is she all right?” Layla asks.
“I don’t know. She’s in court custody right now.”
“What?”
“Goodness,” Agatha expels, “I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.” Agatha walks to Remi and gathers him in her arms. “You’re a good boy,” she says, patting Remi on the cheek before stepping back. “What do you need us to do?”
Remi’s fingers comb his hair, and he drops himself on a seat, letting his head fall into his palms. “I have a high chance of getting Wylla’s guardianship if we can prove that Margaret is a bad parent. And since there was no mishap during the kidnapping …” He cringes and exhales. “Not that I wish there was any. But since there was nothing big, there is a slight possibility the court allows Margaret to keep Wylla because, after all, she’s her mother.”
An unpleasant aura settles over the class before the students start hurling questions at Remi.
“Even if she’s a drug addict?”
“Yeah.”
“What about Wylla’s choice? Will that not be taken into consideration?”
“She’s eight. Her choice will not be considered dependable.”
Candee takes a step forward. “You mean to say that despite how reprehensible Margaret is, there’s a possibility you lose Wylla?”
Remi nods.
“That’s ridiculous.” Everyone murmurs their agreement. I know the law is supposed to protect us, but this situation is different. If Margaret wins custody of Wylla, everything will fall apart.
“The only reason Wylla was able to stay with me for these past few years was that Margaret didn’t make a complaint. If she’d made a complaint, I’d have lost Wylla long ago. But now, I have a detective friend who is helping to gather proof against her,” Remi answers. “But publicity and more clients will be important as I’ll be able to show better numbers to the court.”
I’m so proud of this man.
“We could use online advertising,” Candee suggests.
Nicholas nods. “We could, and we will. It’ll work, but it’s not very—”
“Personal,” Remi finishes. “What we do here is not only a business. It’s making you people happy. I want a way to show to people what we do here. How these classes are helping us discover ourselves, and our partner. I want that personal touch.”
My gaze roams around the class, taking in Remi’s students. Jeremy and his old neighbor. Agatha and her husband. The married couple, who are here to save their marriage. The army couple. My pulse increases as my mind works a scenario.
“I might have an idea.”
I turn to face Remi to see his gaze already on me. I note a tinge of regret creasing his eyebrows, and I promise my heart we’ll ponder on that later because, right now, I have an idea racing in my head. “What about a street performance?”
Nicholas unsticks himself from the wall and walks closer. “Explain,” he says.
“Look at this class.” I open my arms and point at us. “Look at us. How each one here wants to take something from this class? Why not show this to the world?”
“How?”
Excitement, along with doubt, swirls around me, and I speak fast. “Look, I’m not sure if it’ll work or not, but imagine if we all went out on the streets—with permission, of course,” I inject quickly, being a lawyer’s daughter and all. “We put on some music, pair up, and maybe have a little board next to each couple, saying why we enrolled for the kizomba classes or what we want to take away from this class. This is a beautiful class, Remi. If people see what you’re creating here, I think they’ll be queuing outside to sign up.” I let out a little laugh as I bring my hands to my chest.
Remi blinks but doesn’t say anything. Nicholas takes my shoulders in both hands. “You are a genius, Kaci.”
Nicholas turns to Remi with sparkles in his eyes. “We can make this work, Remi. We need to make this work.” His voice is strong and confident, which makes my chest puff.
“Let’s do it,” he agrees in a husky voice, and it doesn’t surprise me when everyone cheers and claps, agreeing to help whatever way they can. I look at Remi to see water gathering on his eyelids—and his stare on me.
#HoldonTight
SIXTEEN
#FreakingOutDay
It’s nine o’clock.
It’s freaking nine o’clock.
“Nervous?”
I blink and pull oxygen into my tightening lungs. “I don’t want to be nervous, but I can’t help it.” My gaze roams over the streets. We are all in our respective places, mounting our boards up. It’s Saturday, so some people are going to work, some are out for fresh air and others—I have no idea. Some have stopped by to see what we are up to, and others are carrying on about their lives. But today is our day.
#FreakingOutDay
Candee touches my arm, and I turn until I’m facing her. Her lips slowly form into a mild smile, and she takes my hands i
nto hers. “I just wanted to tell you there’s no one else I want to embark on this college journey with but you, Kaci. I’m so glad and proud you’re my friend. So, thank you for today. Thank you for being my partner.” She wraps her arms around me, making emotion tickle the back of my throat.
When we pull back, I bring her hands to my chest. “Confusing kizomba with Zumba is my favorite mistake. And I’m glad you kind of forced me to come to this class. Thank you for being my friend too, Candee.”
She nods, with gleaming eyes. “You want to see our board?”
We came up with the idea of placing a five-foot-long board next to us, with the reason we chose to dance written on it.
Candee removes the wrapping paper around the board.
We came in search of healthy penises.
And found a healthy friendship.
I shake my head, laughing at what she chose to write.
“Want to see the other side?”
“Why do we have two sides?”
She peeks at me from her upper lashes and gives her lower lip a soft bite. “I’m going to try to have a dance with Nicholas.” Soft pink colors her cheeks as her lips spread into a sheepish smile.
“What?”
She laughs lightly. “I can’t tell you the whole thing, but Nicholas and I had a little bet—”
“What? How didn’t I know about this?”
“Like I said, I can’t tell you, but he lost the bet, so I may have dropped a few hints here and there that we could be dancing together today.” She rolls her eyes. “Now, I just hope he caught those hints.”
“I hope so, too. Now show me what you have on that board.”
Sometimes, one dance is enough
To last a lifetime.
“Wow. That’s beautiful.” A slight ache builds in my chest. I can’t help but think if things were different, Remi and I’d be sharing a dance today.
“Ready?” Remi asks, bringing me back to the present, and we all nod. We fix the board in place, and then Candee and I wrap our arms around each other. We smile, excitement running into our veins. Remi wraps his arms around Layla, laying his head on the crook of her neck, waiting for the music to start. My stomach tightens.
Darling, Dance with Me Page 8