He kissed her lips, passed his hand through her hair, gritted his teeth, and looked up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes.
A few more minutes. Had he just gotten there a few minutes earlier. But the traffic. He’d been stuck in it on the highway. An SUV had run into a tractor-trailer, sending the trailer reeling over onto its side. The two right lanes had been completely shut down, forcing everyone to merge into one lane. He’d passed an alternate-route exit two exits prior, and the next one wasn’t coming up until he’d passed the wreckage.
He’d been frantic on his phone, calling Zeke, calling Sapphire, trying anything short of calling the police to prevent tragedy from happening.
Tragedy.
“Oh God!”
Not Jewell. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to have been there.
Sam has been stuck in the backup for more than forty-five minutes, cursing anyone who could be cursed. The driver of the SUV for being an irresponsible asshole behind the wheel, the driver of the tractor-trailer for not having any fucking reaction time—hadn’t he heard of defensive driving? The police who couldn’t make the traffic move fast enough, the firefighters who had no real purpose for being there, the ambulance for not getting the injured transported fast enough, the drivers in front of him for being too goddamned nosy and driving extra slow just hoping to get a glimpse of somebody or some body part sprawled on the ground, the people behind him for riding his fucking bumper—couldn’t they see he couldn’t go anywhere?
Sam cursed and cursed and cursed until he finally passed the accident and was able to gun the engine, not giving a damn about the police troopers in the area.
Twenty minutes later, he was about to turn into Zeke and Sapphire’s affluent development. His hope was that, despite the delay, he would somehow still make it in time to prevent something from happening. That hope was lost, however, when he passed G on the way in.
G was driving an inconspicuous, dark blue Honda Accord with tinted windows. Sam had seen him through the windshield. G had seen him, too. G making a right, Sam making a left, they’d passed one another in movie-like slow motion and locked eyes, slowing only momentarily.
Sam raced to Zeke’s home, no longer hoping to prevent anything, but rather praying that Sapphire would still be alive. But when he saw Jewell’s car in her parents’ driveway, a terrifying chill came over him.
Sam cursed and kissed Jewell on her forehead again. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
He cried, placed another gentle kiss on her forehead, cursed Zeke, cursed Sapphire, cursed the intern, cursed Ty, and cursed himself.
Had he just said no.
He would have been begging her for forgiveness, fighting for her love, insisting that the intern meant nothing, swearing that he only loved her, promising to never again betray her or the vows he’d taken.
Had he just said no.
He wouldn’t be holding her with tears and blood flowing. He wouldn’t be begging her to hold on, hold on. “Hold on, baby . . . please, hold on.”
A siren screamed from outside.
Sam looked over his shoulder, saw flashing red and blue lights. He turned back to Jewell. “The ambulance is here, baby. You’re going to be OK.”
He took hold of her hand and kissed it. He tried to force a smile, to reinforce and believe the words he’d spoken. That she was going to be all right. He tried to ignore the clamminess and the paling of her skin. He tried to ignore the fact that she didn’t seem to be breathing.
His body began to shake as he cried harder. “Hold on, Jewell,” he said, his throat constricted, his voice and spirit breaking. “Hold on.”
Someone grabbed him by his shoulders. “Sir! Please back away!”
The EMTs. Two of them, a male and female.
They asked Sam to move again. He did and they immediately swarmed over Jewell.
“I don’t have a pulse! Beginning chest compressions!”
On his knees, his shoulders slumped, Sam could only watch in horror as the scene unfolded. With every one to two inch chest compression, Sam’s body shook. With every two-second breath of air the EMT blew into Jewell’s mouth, with every moment spent trying to save her life, Sam felt himself dying slowly.
“Oh my God! Jewell!”
Sam turned his head slowly and looked behind him. Sapphire was standing just inside the front door, her hands over her mouth.
“My baby! What happened to my baby!” She looked at Sam. “What happened to my baby!”
Sam tried to stand up and go to her, but he couldn’t find the strength. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t find his voice.
Sapphire called out for Jewell again and moved forward, demanding to know what had happened.
The female EMT told her that Jewell had been shot and that they were doing all they could to help her. “Shot? Shot? You’re giving her CPR? Why are you giving her CPR? Why are you pressing on her chest like that?”
“We’re doing all we can, ma’am,” the EMT said solemnly.
Sapphire knelt down in front of Sam and grabbed his shoulders. “What happened to my baby, Sam? What did you do to my baby?”
Sam stared at her. He opened his mouth. Sapphire shook him. Called his name again. Sam stared. Blinked. Heard nothing, but . . .
Time of death . . .
Sapphire let out a guttural scream, while Sam remained frozen, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Sapphire screamed again. Asked God why. Sam remained deathly still, seeing and hearing nothing, yet seeing and hearing it all at the same time.
Time of death . . . Time of death . . .
Chapter 32
Sapphire was numb. Her daughter was dead. She sat, a statue of confusion, disbelief, grief, on her sofa.
Her daughter was dead.
That statement, hitting her in her chest, making it difficult to breathe, seemed incomprehensible. What did it mean exactly? It was like a whole other language. Greek, Arabic, Spanish, Chinese, French.
Dead?
A chill crept up her spine, wrapped itself around her shoulders, held her tightly. She shivered as tears fell down her face. “Why? Why did this have to happen?”
People moved around her. Forensics team, dusting for fingerprints, looking for clues.
No one answered her question.
She asked, “Why?” again and thought about her last conversation with her daughter. Jewell had known about her and Tre. She’d paid to have photographs of them together. She’d made copies, sent a set to Tre, kept one for herself, and sent a set to Zeke.
Just a few hours ago, Sapphire hated her daughter. She’d been hurt, betrayed. Jewell had no idea what she’d had to endure. The loneliness she’d been forced to accept. The neglect. A few hours ago, she’d had hate in her heart for her only child, and now her only child was gone. Taken by someone who wanted nothing more than jewelry.
The police had gone through the house and told her that her bedroom had been ransacked and her jewelry taken. Jewell must have surprised the person or persons, and so they’d shot her and ran. The police promised to do all they could to find out who the person or persons were. They left Sapphire on the couch, and then went outside to talk to Sam.
Sapphire cried, and with her hands trembling, tried to call Zeke again. She’d been trying to reach him since after she’d last spoken to Jewell. Jewell had confirmed it with her confession, but Sapphire knew the last time they’d had sex that he’d known.
His daughter was dead.
Sapphire broke down, dropped her cell after another unsuccessful attempt at reaching her husband, and buried her face in her hands.
Not my daughter, she thought. Not my daughter.
She cried, while the forensics team did their job without so much as a second glance in her direction. Being in the presence of grief was nothing new to them.
Sapphire cried and shook as questions ran through her mind.
Why did this have to happen? Why had Jewell been there? Had she come to apologize
? To chastise her mother even more? Had she come looking for her father to make sure he knew the truth? What if she had never gone to see Tre? Could she have prevented her daughter’s death or would she have been killed, too? Why had Sam been here? How did he know Jewell would be here? Had Jewell called him?
Sapphire cried hard tears as the CSI team finished their jobs and left her alone.
“My fault,” she whispered. “This is my fault.”
Without the arrangement with Tre, none of this would have happened. Jewell wouldn’t have caught her. Pictures wouldn’t have been taken. Pictures wouldn’t have been sent. Zeke wouldn’t have left. Jewell wouldn’t have been there. Jewell wouldn’t have died.
She furiously wiped an unending stream of tears away from her eyes. “My fault,” she said again. “It’s all my fault, Sam.”
He’d just walked into the living room. Sapphire looked at him as he stood, stoic, leaning against the far wall, his arms folded across his chest.
“Why did this happen, Sam? Why did my baby die? Why did this have to happen? Why did God do this? Why, Sam? Why now?” She’d wanted to fix her relationship with Jewell. She’d wanted them to be closer. “Why, Sam?”
She looked at him, begging him with her eyes to provide answers that she desperately needed.
Sam looked back at her, but didn’t speak.
Sapphire wiped tears, sniffled. “Sam?” His silence worried her. His glare back even more so. There was something in his eyes. Her tears continued to fall as she watched him watching her, his jaw tight, his eyes getting darker. “She . . . she told you, didn’t she?”
She could tell by the way he’d been staring at her. There was an underlying anger beneath the pain, beneath the grief. He could tell her that he didn’t know, but she knew he’d be lying.
Sam continued to stare at her silently, his jaw getting tighter, his nostrils widening.
“How long?” Sapphire asked. “How long have you known?”
Sam stared. Remained mute.
Sapphire shook her head slowly. “I . . . I never meant . . .” She paused, drew a short breath. “I never meant . . .” She paused again and buried her face in her hands. “It should have been me,” she said, her voiced muffled by the palms of her hands. “Oh God. It should have been me.”
Cold, hard, stinging tears of guilt and remorse fell down her face. “It should have been me,” she said again.
“Where were you?” Sam asked suddenly, his voice low, his tone flat.
Sapphire pulled her hands away from her face and looked up at him. “What?”
Sam dropped his arms to his sides and balled his hands into tight fists. “Where the fuck were you?” he asked again.
“Sam . . . what—”
“Those bullets . . .” Sam paused and gritted his teeth. “Those bullets were meant for you.”
Sapphire looked at him, confusion in her eyes. “What did you say?”
“Those bullets were meant for you, Sapphire.”
Sapphire shook her head. “What . . . what do you mean, Sam? Meant for me?”
“Jewell wasn’t supposed to be here. You were. Where the fuck were you?” he yelled out, making Sapphire jump.
“What are you saying?”
“It was one guy,” Sam said. “And he took the jewelry to make it look like a robbery.”
“Sam?”
“You were supposed to be here. Alone. Jewell was supposed to be home.”
“No, Sam,” Sapphire said as shock and disbelief rifled through her.
“He was supposed to come while you were here. He was supposed to shoot you and then take the jewelry and whatever else he could find and leave. I was supposed to call Zeke and tell him when he could come to discover your body. Why the fuck weren’t you here?”
“No,” Sapphire said, rising from the couch. She went to him.
“Zeke saw the pictures, Sapphire, and he wanted you dead.”
“No, Sam. Please . . . No!” She was standing in front of him now. She grabbed his hand.
He pulled it away. “Zeke found me cheating on Jewell. I was supposed to make your death happen. That was what I had to do to keep him from taking everything away from me.”
Sapphire reached out for him again. “No . . . no, Sam!”
He pushed her back, sending her to the ground. “You’re supposed to be fucking dead! Not Jewell!”
“No! No! No!”
Chapter 33
Sam wanted to rush forward and grab Sapphire by her throat. He wanted to choke her until she couldn’t breathe. She was supposed to be dead.
He closed his eyes tightly.
Pressed the palms of his hands against his temples.
Tried to squeeze away the tumultuous anger, regret, pain, guilt, and hatred, all clamoring together to form an orchestral sound that was driving him slowly insane.
He opened his eyes and glared at Sapphire.
She was crying, yelling, “No! No!”
“Jewell should have been home!” Sam screamed.
He wanted so badly to hurt her. He wanted to kick her down and punch her, each blow representing retaliation for everything that had happened. For Sapphire’s infidelity. For God allowing Jewell to discover the affair.
Retaliation.
For the pictures taken and sent. For Zeke and his damned ultimatum.
Retaliation.
For his own infidelity. For giving in to Zeke’s demand. For contacting Ty. For giving him an address only, and not a picture of Sapphire.
Sam squeezed his eyes tightly again as Sapphire’s words rang in his ears.
It was all her fault.
He shook his head. Sapphire’s words—they were only partly true. She was at fault, yes, but he was too. Jewell wouldn’t have died if he’d only been man enough to deal with the consequences of his actions.
Jewell died in his arms.
Her blood would forever be on his hands.
On all of their hands.
He looked down at Sapphire. No longer screaming, she sat on the ground, her arms pinning her knees against her chest. She was crying and rocking back and forth slowly.
She’d betrayed Zeke.
Sam had betrayed Jewell.
He wanted to hate her, but he couldn’t. “Sapphire.”
She raised her head slowly.
“It’s my fault too,” Sam said solemnly. “I . . . I cheated on Jewell and Zeke found out. Jewell is . . . is . . .” He paused as tears fell slowly from the corners of his eyes. “She’s gone because of me.”
Sapphire’s bottom lip quivered as a fresh wave of tears flooded from her eyes. She stood up and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the middle of his chest and cried with him.
She’d lost a daughter.
He’d lost a wife.
They would forever be bonded by actions that would haunt them for the rest of their days.
Sam held her tightly until his cell phone rang from inside of his pocket.
He and Sapphire looked at one another. Sapphire backed away and wrapped herself up in her own arms. Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He looked at the display, then at Sapphire as she watched him intensely. He nodded.
It was Zeke.
He raised the cell to his ear.
Was about to hit the talk button when Sapphire said, “Tell him he can come home now.”
Sam looked at her.
She looked at Sam.
“Tell him,” Sapphire said again.
Sam kept his lips tight and with his eyes on Sapphire, connected the call.
Chapter 34
Sapphire hadn’t stopped calling him. He’d waited for the calls to stop. Waited for Sam to call him to tell him that it was all over. That his wife was dead. That he could go home. He’d waited, but the calls just wouldn’t stop.
Why?
What happened?
Had things gone awry?
Had Sam backed out?
Why the hell did she keep calling?
He di
dn’t want to call, but he couldn’t take it anymore. His patience had worn thin and he needed to know why things hadn’t happened.
“She’s still calling me. Why?”
He hadn’t even given Sam a chance to speak.
On the other end of the call, Sam said, “You can come home now.”
Zeke’s heart skipped and then beat heavily. “What did you say?”
“You can come home.”
“It’s done?”
“It’s done.”
Zeke stared at his reflection in the mirror across from him. He was still in his hotel room, sitting on the bed.
His wife was dead.
His reflection smiled at him.
“And the headless man?”
“It’s done,” Sam said again.
“Do you have confirmation?”
“I do.”
“And my wife is dead?”
Sam exhaled heavily. “Yes.” His voice was low, subdued. He had the sound of death on his voice. There was no doubt in Zeke’s mind; his wife was dead. He could go home. He could start life anew.
“There’s no turning back now, Sam. You know that, right? Your hand is as red as mine.”
“I . . . I know,” Sam said, his voice taut.
“We have roles to play now, Sam. I hope you can handle yours.”
There was a slight pause before Sam said, “OK.”
“Sam?”
“Yes, Zeke?”
“Where’s Jewell?”
Nothing but silence answered him.
“Sam?” Zeke called.
Still nothing but silence. He pulled the cell away from his ear and looked at it. The call was still connected. He put it back to his ear. “Sam?”
Silence and then sniffling.
“What’s wrong, Sam?”
Sam cleared his throat. “N—nothing.”
“You don’t sound like nothing’s wrong.”
“Ev—everything is . . .” Sam paused for several seconds and then spoke again. “Everything’s fine, Zeke.”
“Where’s Jewell, Sam?”
Zeke waited as Sam took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. “She . . . she’s sleeping.”
Zeke closed his eyes a bit. The tone in Sam’s voice—something about it made him uneasy. “Is she OK? She called me a few times earlier, but I didn’t want to talk to her until everything was done.”
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