She headed toward the car but stopped abruptly when a tall man in dark shades and a shadow of a beard stopped in front of her.
“You!” he growled in a low, menacing voice. “I know you were behind this.”
Her heart lurched in her chest. Assuming he was drunk or high on something, she stepped to the side with intentions of going around him, but he blocked her path. There was something familiar about the guy. She just…
He whipped off his dark glasses and she gasped.
“Gabe! Oh, my God. What happened to you? Who did this?” She set her bag down on the concrete and reached for him, but he swatted her hand away.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. Having someone beat me up, Journey? Really?”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” she said, shocked by his allegation.
He pointed at his bruises. “I don’t know how, but I’m going to prove that you were behind this.”
She took in his swollen face with dark, painful looking circles below his eyes, a bandage across his nose, and puffy lips. His arm was in a sling, though he wasn’t in a cast.
She didn’t like Gabe, but she wouldn’t wish this type of beating on anyone.
“Gabe, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but—”
“Save it. You just better watch yourself.” He slipped on his sunglasses, despite the setting of the sun and hurried down the street, leaving Journey gawking after him.
Was that a threat?
“Come on, Journey, before I get a ticket!” Geneva yelled through the open window.
Journey hurried toward her sister’s vehicle with yet another topic of conversation for them to discuss over drinks.
“I can’t believe you think the cutie-pie detective had something to do with Gabe’s beatdown,” Geneva whispered when they arrived at one of their favorite bar and grills, snagging the last table in the bar area.
“I said I hope he didn’t have anything to do with Gabe’s situation.” Journey didn’t want to believe Laz would stoop to that level, but she had a nagging feeling he probably knew something about it.
“I knew Laz had a little thug in him when you introduced me to him last year at that fundraiser.” Geneva laughed, and Journey couldn’t help but smile. At the time, Geneva had tried flirting with Laz, not knowing that Journey had a serious crush on him.
To Laz’s credit, he’d been kind to her sister, but his interest and attention had been solely on Journey. If she had to pinpoint when their relationship had shifted, she could credit it to that evening.
After the server took their drink and appetizer order, Geneva continued.
“You know, I always thought the prosecutor was a little creepy. Remember that Christmas party? He found every excuse to get close to you and then he acted as if he’d been hypnotized by your breasts.”
Journey laughed. “Okay, you’re right. That was creepy, but he’s harmless… At least that’s what I used to think. Now, I’m not so sure.”
That party had been four years ago and she’d made it clear to Gabe that night she wasn’t interested. But lately, something with him had changed and she wondered if his behavior was really about her or if there was something else going on in his life.
“I might have to get the cops involved and let the DA know what’s been going on since Gabe threatened me. I don’t want to, but he’s giving me no other choice.”
“Well, from what you told me about that encounter at the courthouse, Gabe is lucky I didn’t hunt him down myself and beat his ass. And if Laz wasn’t behind the whooping, Gabe must’ve rubbed someone the wrong way if his face was as bad as you claim.”
As the server placed their drinks and potato skins on the table, Journey’s thoughts stayed on the Laz and Gabe situation. No way would Laz take that type of risk with the mess that was already going on with him.
Then again, she knew him well enough to know not to put anything past him. He did whatever the heck he wanted to do. Consequences be damned.
“And speaking of Laz, what’s going on with you two? Have you had any more kissing sessions since the wedding reception?” Geneva grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Or have you guys finally gone to third base? You didn’t accidently fall on his dick and not tell me, did you?”
Journey rolled her eyes trying not to laugh; knowing if she did, it would only encourage her sister to continue. Geneva had a way with words and there was nothing off-limits.
“Don’t make me regret telling you about the lapse in judgment in my office, and no, nothing’s happened between us. I haven’t seen or heard from Laz in a week.”
“You sound disappointed. Hell, I’d be disappointed if I wanted to screw his brains out and he was nowhere to be found. Sooo, are you disappointed? Are you finally ready to get your head out of your ass and let that man show you all that he can do with his tongue?”
“Dang, Geneva! Do Mom and Dad know you talk like that?”
Her sister shrugged and twisted the thin straw around in her drink. “Hey, I just don’t understand the problem. The man is absolutely gorgeous. You two have been skirting around each other for years. He likes you. You’re crazy about him. Just g’on and fuck and get it over with.”
Journey shook her head. “We can’t. Well, we could but—”
“Don’t tell me it’s because he’s white.”
“Of course not! Laz is a nice guy, and even before we attended the reception, I had gone out with white men before. It’s just that…” She kept telling herself that she wanted to maintain a professional relationship with him.
“You know what, sis? I get that you walk this straight and narrow road that you’ve created for yourself, but life is short. If you want the man, go for it. Use all that.” She waved her hands up and down at Journey. “Besides, what if you never act on the attraction between you two? You’ll miss out and always wonder what it would have been like to sit on his face and let him eat yo—”
“Stop!” Journey burst out laughing, knowing her sister would have kept going and probably would’ve gotten more graphic. “What is wrong with you tonight?”
“I’m horny as hell. I honestly don’t know how you’ve gone without for all of these months. Thank God Evan is getting back tonight,” she said of her boyfriend of six months. “I’ve already worn out Dildo Evan and…”
Journey laughed through the rest of her sister’s lewd monologue. After the week she’d had, this was exactly what she needed. She hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time, probably not since the last time she and her sister got together.
As Geneva explained all that she planned to do to the real Evan when she saw him, Journey’s mind drifted to Laz and all that she wouldn’t mind doing with him. As promised, he had been the perfect gentleman when they attended the reception. But now she was tired of depriving herself, and what better time than tonight to go after what she wanted?
*
Journey stared out the window as the town car she was riding in the back of traveled through the streets of Atlanta, heading to Laz’s place. What seemed like a good idea hours ago was starting to feel like one of the dumbest things she’d done in a while as doubt plagued her mind.
How had she let Geneva talk her into going to see him?
What if he wasn’t home? What if he didn’t open the door? Or worse, what if he opened the door and didn’t let her in?
Journey shook her head. He would never slam the door in her face. He might give her a hard time about showing up out of the blue, but he’d at least let her in. She wasn’t a spontaneous person, and hadn’t put a plan fully in place when she and her sister parted ways. All Journey knew was that she didn’t want to spend another night alone.
It didn’t matter that he was everything fathers warned their daughters about when it came to men. There was an invisible thread that connected her and Laz. A thread she wanted to pull tighter to bring them closer.
Glancing at the bag of food sitting next to her, she knew it would at least get her in the door, assuming he was
home. And Gabe’s bruised face would give them something to talk about, then she’d leave.
Who are you kidding? You’re not gonna want to leave.
Journey rested her head against the leather seat. She wanted Laz more than she wanted anything at the moment. Since neither of them were looking for a serious relationship, it could be the perfect setup. They could act on the scorching attraction between them, without getting emotions involved.
Journey glanced out the window as the car turned into Laz’s neighborhood. He lived near Underground Atlanta, and the number of homeless people hanging around stood out like black on a white canvas. Cops didn’t make much considering they put their lives on the line daily, but she had a feeling Laz lived in the area to stay close to the action.
Even after the car stopped in front of his building, Journey remained in the back seat. It was still super-hot outside. Yet, people lingered in front of the building laughing, talking loud and smoking. Unease swept through her when she realized she’d have to walk through a group of men near the entrance appearing to be in a heated discussion.
Okay, let’s do this.
“Thank you,” Journey said to the Uber driver and gathered the bag of food and her purse before climbing out. She held her bags close to her body as she moved quickly to the door, her heels clicking against the concrete.
“You lost?” A kid in his early twenties, with two front silver teeth blocked her path. The liquor and another smell she couldn’t identify on his breath made her eyes water. Journey didn’t need this right now. She was already nervous about being there.
“Man, leave her alone,” one of the kids he’d been hanging with said before turning back to the small group of guys, but Mr. Silver Tooth didn’t move.
Seeing that ignoring him wouldn’t work, Journey said, “Thanks, but I know where I’m going.” She tried stepping around him, but he blocked her path and grabbed at the sleeve of her shirt.
She yanked her arm back, anger simmering behind her calm. “Touch me again and be prepared to lose that hand,” she said in her deadliest voice.
After being attacked years ago, she had taken a self-defense course. Outside of her encounter with Gabe, she hadn’t had to use what she’d learned. But she remembered some of the most important body parts to inflict pain. Genitals, eyes, kneecap, and Adam’s apple, to name a few. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to test her memory.
A shrewd smile spread across his mouth. “I see you have jokes. You think your bony ass can take me?”
“Maybe. If I can’t, I’m sure I could get Laz down here to handle you.”
The smile immediately dropped from the kid’s face and he lifted his hands in surrender. “We’re good. Don’t need no trouble from the white shadow.” He went back to his group, who were now laughing at him.
Journey hadn’t known for sure he would know Laz’s name, but apparently, he did. No surprise there. There weren’t too many people who didn’t know of him. Most thought him a nice guy, while the rest thought he was a heartbeat away from crazy.
White shadow?
Journey didn’t stick around to question the nickname. She hurried into the building, sidestepping a couple of kids playing cards on the steps, and ignored the loud rap music streaming from one of the apartments. The stench of alcohol mixed with trash was almost too much, but she kept moving.
It wasn’t until she arrived on the third-floor landing that she slowed down to catch her breath. Her usual workout was no match for running up the stairs in high heels and a combination of unease and adrenaline pumping through her body. The drinks she’d had earlier probably weren’t helping either.
One more flight.
Journey moved the handles of her bags to her other hand, but when she placed her foot on the first step, it slipped.
Crap. She stumbled.
A piercing pain shot through her hand when she tried stopping her fall, and she cried out when the side of her head connected with the metal railing.
Shit.
Staggering, she dropped down on one of the steps waiting for a wave of dizziness to pass.
“Okay girl, get it together,” she mumbled to herself as the throb in her head grew. The loud music and the combination of smells only irritated her more while she attempted to regroup.
“I hate when drunk people block the damn steps,” a young woman with thick braids down to her butt murmured as she stomped past Journey.
Journey ignored her as she continued holding the side of her head, ensuring the dizziness had passed. It wasn’t until she lowered her hand that she noticed blood on her fingers.
So much for spontaneity. The idea to stop by unannounced was getting worse by the minute.
Chapter Fourteen
Laz jerked awake and snatched his gun from the bedside table.
With a finger on the trigger and his outstretched arm moving left then right, his pulse pounded in his ears. He glanced around his darkened space trying to determine what had awakened him.
That’s when he heard a knock coming from the living room.
He set the gun down and dropped his head back onto the pillow. Sleep fogged his mind. Seconds ticked by before he lifted his arm and glanced at his watch.
Eight-thirty.
He’d only been asleep a couple of hours. After working a double, he had dragged his exhausted body home and had fallen face-first into bed. He didn’t remember anything after that.
Laz’s eyes drifted closed. All he needed was a couple of more hours of sleep and he’d be…
Another knock, this time louder, had him sitting up and placing his feet on the floor.
“This shit better be important.” He slid into the pair of jeans he’d had at the foot of the bed and didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes. With remnants of sleep still clogging his brain, he stuck the pistol into the back of his waistband and stumbled out of the bedroom.
Living in one of Atlanta’s toughest neighborhoods, people didn’t just stop by.
Laz staggered through the short dark hallway and bumped into the leg of a table when he made it to the living room. “Damn it,” he growled, pain shooting through his big toe. Getting madder by the minute at the insistent knocking, he flipped on the living room light.
“What the hell is…” His words lodged in his throat after he swung open the door.
Journey.
Shock immediately turned to concern when a trickle of blood dripped down the side of her face and onto her white shirt.
His heart slammed against his ribcage and anxiety gripped his body. All types of scenarios raced through his mind at once. There was no one behind her, but he couldn’t see to her left or her right. All Laz saw was uncertainty in her eyes as she stared at his chest.
On instinct, he eased the gun from the back of his waistband and brought it to his side as he extended his other hand to her. Journey grabbed hold immediately and he tugged her to him, not missing the way she shivered against his body.
What the hell was going on?
He lifted his gun at the ready and glanced into the hall, looking left, then right.
Nothing.
Heart practically beating out of his chest, he stepped back and closed the apartment door with his foot.
“Journey, what’s going on?” He did a quick scan down her body. Besides a little shaken, she looked okay except for the cut on the side of her head. But the thought of someone hurting her had his blood boiling.
Eyes wide with her attention on his gun, she still hadn’t spoken.
“What happened?” he asked with more calm than he felt, not wanting to freak her out even more. He set his gun down on the coffee table and took the bags from her hand, placing them on the sofa. With his heart still racing faster than normal, he pulled her into his arms, growing more concerned by her silence.
“If Hall did this, he’s a dead man.” Laz held her tight, hyperaware of her soft hands on his back. He had received confirmation that Hall had been taken care of. But if that asshole had somehow retali
ated by going after Journey, there would be nowhere he could hide that Laz wouldn’t find him.
Feeling a sticky liquid drip onto his bare chest, Laz pulled back and looked at the cut. Though small, it seemed to be bleeding more.
“Babe, ya gotta talk to me. I need to know what happened.” He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her to the bathroom. He quickly removed the first-aid kit from the cabinet beneath the sink and set it on the counter. The room was barely big enough for one person. Being in there with her made it a little too cozy for comfort.
“I fell.”
Laz’s hand stilled on the first-aid cream, and he narrowed his eyes.
“You fell?” he repeated, disbelief dripping from his words. If he had a dollar for every time a domestic violence victim told him that, he’d be rich. Journey wasn’t seeing anyone, so he didn’t know what to think.
He took a closer look at the cut on the side of her head trying to figure out what type of weapon might’ve been used. Touching it, he cursed himself for making her flinch. It didn’t look deep, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he cleaned around it.
“Why don’t you tell me what really happened.”
“I was coming up the stairs and somehow I missed a step. Then I hit my head on the railing.” She went to touch her head, but stopped and stared at the blood on her hand.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,”
After she washed her hands, Laz needed her up higher in order to get a better look at the cut and had her to sit on the counter. All the while he cleaned her wound and patched her up, questions ran rampant through his mind.
“Ow, Laz,” Journey whimpered, wincing when he put a Band-Aid on her cut.
“Sorry.”
Once he was finished, he placed his hands on the counter on either side of her. Bending down slightly, he brought them face to face.
God, she looks so small and vulnerable. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go.
Unable to help himself, he brushed his lips across hers.
“Let me get this right. You fell on the stairs,” he said, still having a hard time believing that’s what really happened. But he had to admit that he was glad she came to him.
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