by Aja Cole
“Why would she do that? You’ve had that tail on her, it looked like a coincidence.”
“I pulled the detectives from your case in on this. Jazz didn’t just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time tonight. They targeted her, and if not for that man, the goal was probably to take her too.”
The floor shifts under my feet and I can feel myself swaying a bit, out of focus.
“Bahi helped? Bahi did that?” My voice is far away and I can’t focus in on Keyra’s face.
I’m one of her kid’s godmothers. I sat with her when she found out her boyfriend was cheating on her. I invited her into my home, into my family, around the people I cherish most.
I did this. I did all of this.
“I think it’s revenge, Kai. About you helping to take that sector of the ring down years ago. They had to have been watching you for awhile, know your connections and Bahi must’ve filled in the missing stuff.”
“Get me Detective Kinsey.”
“Why?” She’s questioning me, but she’s pulling her phone from her jeans pocket. I let a small smile come through. Keyra in jeans. Another thing that never happens.
“I want to see Wesley. Now.”
22
Harlan
Everyone else went home to get some sleep. It’s just Dane, Mickey, Brandon, and me.
Nico and Jazz struck up a quick friendship, and making my brother leave with my mom took some convincing.
Jazz is a sweet kid. I’ve gotten to know her when she pops into Kai’s for breakfast and even dropped her at class a few times.
She doesn’t deserve to be here right now, no kid does.
I’m not stupid, I know Kaija’s pulling away from me, I just don’t really know why. Physically tonight, and maybe even mentally.
It’s not like the past few weeks have always been perfect. We’ve had little arguments, discovered stuff about each other that annoyed us, but we talk through it.
We do it together.
I know it’s still considered early, but I…shit, I don’t see anything different happening for me. I’m in it, deep in it, but in the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not.
Maybe she’s been acting so weird because she’s trying to figure out how to break that to me. Not like I’m going to bring that up tonight though, she’s got enough shit going on.
I want to be here for her, comfort her, but every time she’s made it a point to step away from me, it knocks me down a little. Maybe I’m being a sensitive baby about it. That’s probably what Dane would say.
“Mickey’s barely keeping her eyes open, I’m going to take her home.” Brandon walks over, an annoyed but sleeping looking Mickey next to him.
“I told him I’m fine.”
“It’s alright, once Keyra and Kai come back, we’ll see them home too.” I glance over at Dane, who’s scrolling through his phone. I wonder if he’s here because we had plans or if he’s here for Keyra, but I don’t say it aloud.
I hug Mickey, and clap Brandon on the back, watching them go. I assume maybe Keyra and Kaija are squaring away the power of attorney stuff.
“I can’t believe her parents just gave someone else leeway on the medical stuff.” Dane and I are thinking the same.
“From what Kai’s mentioned about them, they’re not the most…loving family.”
“We got lucky with our moms.” He muses, rolling his phone around in his hands. He’s got stubble on his face already.
“Believe me, I know.” My mom was calling to tell me what time Nico’s game would be that weekend when I was on the way to the hospital. All I told her was that Keyra said Kaija needed me and was at the hospital, and she just asked for the address and said she’d meet us there.
“What happened to Kaija’s mom?”
“We haven’t really talked about it. I think her parents just split up, but she’s never mentioned talking to her or seeing her so I don’t know what that relationship is like.”
“Our mom just…got tired of family life.” We turn, and Keyra’s leaning against the wall behind us. Kai isn’t with her. She walks over and drops into a chair across from Dane and me, pulling her oversized cardigan closer.
It’s the least put together I’ve seen her since we met. Even her hair is in a loose bun and she’s got glasses on.
I didn’t take her for someone who wore glasses.
“She was a pretty accomplished woman. Had traveled, was a journalist in war-torn countries, a correspondent…she had a pretty full life. Then she got pregnant with me…then she got pregnant with Kai.”
“Then she just left?” It’s hard to wrap my head around that, I’ve always had my mom and she’s always made it clear how much she wanted us. I mean, our dad is a good friend and basically donated his sperm to her because she wanted kids more than she wanted a relationship.
We get together a few times a year with his full family, and we keep in touch on the phone and a few random visits since they live in California. It’s never felt like I had less than anyone else, and I don’t think Nico felt that way either but he’s had me being the older one.
“Yeah. Kai was 10, I was 14. I think if there was a bigger gap between Kai and me, maybe she’d have adjusted. But when she got pregnant with Kai, she was just starting to get back into the swing of her career. My dad wanted a more stay-at-home wife family situation, and that just wasn’t my mom.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
“Sometimes, yeah. She didn’t lie to us or just disappear. It’s probably why it didn’t damage us more. She sat us down one day with my father and told us that we were one of the most amazing accomplishments in her life, but she needed to take some time to find herself again. She would keep in touch and we could always call her if we needed her.”
“And did she? Keep in touch?” Dane probes, and maybe I imagine is, but his hand twitches towards her.
“Yep. She wrote letters and sent post-cards from where-ever she was and called us when she could. It was hard for a little bit because of course, Kai would ask when she was coming back, but eventually she just stopped asking and took it for what it was. Better than nothing.”
“That’s some shit straight out of a novel.” I whistle, sitting back. Where is Kaija?
“Keeps things interesting.”
“Where’s Kai?” Keyra hesitates for a second at my question and I feel that suspicious crawling in again.
“Right here.” Her voice is soft and she comes over, but doesn’t look at me. I stand and start to move towards her, but the little stutter-step back that she does sends me reeling a little.
Wow.
“Keyra and I have some things to take care of, so I’m just going to go with her.” When she looks at me, her face is unreadable. “I will call you tomorrow, let you know how Jazz is doing.”
“I can go with you, I don’t mind.” A small part of me warns that I might sound clingy, but I don’t want her pulling away from me like this. Not now when it seems like she’s bottling everything up.
“You can’t. You have camp again tomorrow, and I’m not going to come between you and your career. I’m a big girl, I can handle this and myself. You don’t need to babysit me.”
“I’m not trying to babysit you. I’m trying to be here for my girlfriend because I care about her.”
“It’s been a little over a month.” She rolls her eyes. “How much can you really care?”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence after her comment, but she doesn’t flinch or apologize. Just stares at me with steady eyes, like she’s daring me to say differently.
It’s not a fight I’m going to engage in tonight. I have a feeling I’d be the one picking myself up at the end of it. Because I’m more invested.
“I’m going to walk away, because I know you’re hurting and worried right now.” I pick up my phone and keys from my chair and Dane does the same, standing. “Keep me updated.”
“Sure.” Skeptical and non-committal.
I
nod at Keyra, who gives me a reassuring smile and leave with Dane.
“Please don’t say anything about women.” I mumble, and Dane pats me on the back, chuckling.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, man. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
23
Kaija
“You didn’t have to be a bitch.” She’s been silent most of this time, which is odd for Keyra because usually she makes her opinion known immediately.
“That’s rich, coming from the literal queen of bitch.”
“That man only cares about you and you swatted him away like he’s some irritating fly.”
“He thinks he cares about me. Maybe he does right now. Doesn’t mean he’ll feel the same next month or the month after or the month after that.” I look out the window, tapping my fingers against my leg.
Being a senator’s daughter has some very real perks that I take advantage of very rarely.
But this is one of those times I’m doing it shamelessly. For Jazz. And for anyone else who might be caught in the crosshairs.
And maybe a little bit for me, because I can’t just do nothing while the girl I think of as a little sister is laying in the hospital.
The car stops and we get out. I don’t know what time it is, I don’t care. There’s a slim, redheaded woman waiting in front of the tall fenced entrance. I hold out my hand but she hugs me, something I wasn’t really expecting or prepared for.
Keep it together.
“Detective Kinsey.”
“Really? I know it’s been awhile, but I think you can call me Lauren.”
“Lauren.” I correct myself, and she hugs Keyra as she comes up too. She nods to a guard behind the fence and he nods back, unlocking and pushing the fence open. We walk with her through and talk quietly, heading for the entrance.
“You have to know how unusual this is, and if I didn’t know that you’re the only one he’ll talk to…I would never condone this for civilians.” She warns me, and I nod.
“I know. I appreciate it so much.”
“As I told you when we talked, we’ve been watching Richard Brooks for awhile now, but he’s either not involved or is very good at covering his tracks. I looked at what Keyra had your dad’s team send over, and I think your sister chose the wrong career.”
“I’ve thought the same thing lately.” I murmur, stepping through when the door unlocks. We’re not at the original prison where Wesley’s spent most of his time, but a secure medical facility.
Apparently he’s recovering from some infection.
But not that one that makes him a sociopath. Every step closer to him throws me back into everything I felt after it all went down.
How stupid, how blind, how…worthless I felt.
But this can’t be about me. I have to find out if he knows about them grabbing Jazz.
We check in, and I think about how crazy this is. I didn’t expect that I’ve ever have to face him again.
I went from a fairly predictable day to day to me not really recognizing my life right now.
“He’s cuffed to the bed, but please keep a distance. Against my better judgement, I’m going to let you go in alone but Keyra and I will be right outside, along with his guard.” She stops and turns to me once we make it to a door in the middle of a corridor, holding up a little pin. “You’ll be wearing this. Everything’s recording, but we don’t have any eyes inside that room except for you. Please, be careful. If you were anyone else…”
“I know. Thank you for trusting me.” She pins the little button just under the collar of my jacket, and nods, moving back.
“It’s on. Ready when you are.” I take a determined step towards the room, but Keyra puts a hand on my arm and I turn to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Concern is all in her gaze and I steel my spine, shaking my head. I can do this. It’s the least I can do.
“I got this. For Jazz.”
“Okay.” She murmurs, stepping away and I take a deep breath with my hand on the handle. I make myself open it before I can think about it any longer and close it behind me, looking at the man I thought would save me from what I thought was the worst life.
“They told me I was getting a visitor. Didn’t think for a second it’d be you.” I wish I could say the years had been bad to him. You’d think so right? The man’s been in prison, not at some resort.
But he…looks almost the same. Little older. Bulkier. Less like the smiling man that charmed me with silly jokes and compliments.
“I didn’t think I’d be here either.” I move towards a chair by the window and sit there, surveying him. So many emotions.
Smooth dark skin and a close cut, nearly bald shave. He’s got a short beard and mustache now, very Morris Chestnut-like. Probably part of why I was so drawn. I used to tease him about being a long-lost sibling.
“You look good. Stressed, but good. Little more meat on your bones, I like it.” A slow smile starts on his face, like this is some sort of chance meeting.
“I don’t care what you like.” I focus on breathing. It can’t bother me if I don’t let it. He can’t get to me if I don’t let him.
Don’t get pulled into the past.
“This isn’t a conjugal visit then? The bed’s right here.”
“Did you tell someone to kidnap Jasmine Nichols?”
His face doesn’t change, just keeps that same smirk. No hesitation, no blink, no reaction.
“Kidnapping? How unfortunate.” Jackass. I get up from my seat, walking around the room. There’s a small cabinet and I open it, finding what I’m looking for. I palm it, and take my seat again, leaning forward.
“I don’t have time for this.”
“And yet here you are. This girl must mean something to you. She must be important, someone you care about. Someone that, if they betrayed you, might hurt you beyond repair.” Steady, clear, you’d think he was reading off the weather so casually.
“Why are you doing this now? What do you have to gain? Who are you talking to on the outside that’s facilitating this? Is it Richard Brooks?”
“Ah Richie. How is he? I miss him. He was my father’s best friend, you know. An uncle to me, you might say. I hear he’s got a new woman. I hear you’ve got a new man too?” I don’t know why I didn’t see the emptiness in his eyes before. It’s like he’s putting on a persona but isn’t really here. Isn’t invested.
“How are you hearing anything. You’re in prison. Probably someone’s bitch. You couldn’t get it up a few times, I remember.” I haven’t forgotten what he doesn’t like. The things that set him off.
“I had a condition.” He grits his teeth, the first real emotion I’ve seen other than his cockiness.
“Yeah, called you wished I had different chromosomes. I bet you’re happy to be around so many buff, tough men. You can finally get your fill without judgement.” It’s so cliche, questioning his manhood to rile him up. But it works. “I don’t miss that. You getting mad at me when you couldn’t get it up. I was a kid, really. And you, a grown man, blamed me for your issues. I don’t deal with that now.”
“Your little lover-boy satisfying you?” His jaw is ticking and I stand, walking closer to the bed.
“So much. Multiple times a night, even. I mean, I thought I knew what good sex was and then I met him and…oh my god.” I bite my lip and roll my eyes back, like even the thought of him is driving me crazy. “He’s more of a man that you’ll ever be.”
He jumps suddenly, pulling at his restraints and I don’t even flinch. I’m too far good. Too pissed off.
“You were always a little whore. You were ripe for the taking, the perfect little thing. Poor little rich girl, wanted an escape from your hard-knock life. I gave that to you, and what the fuck did you to me? Turn on me.”
“You sold me.” I bite the words out, twisting my face. “You told me you loved me and then you gave me away for god knows what. For money. You took away the innocence I had left FOR MONEY.” I yell, shaking.
/> “And I’m going to take away hers too. I’m going to take away the happiness you think you’ve found, for putting me here. I promise you that.” He vows. I swallow, moving back and pulling out the bottle I palmed.
“You know what this is?”
He takes a breath and sits back, calm as ever again.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“D-Tubocurarine.” I pull a needle from my pocket, and pick up his IV line, trailing my fingers over it until I find the point I can insert the needle into. “Do you know what it’s like to be paralyzed and still feel pain? You can’t scream or move or a single damned thing. Just stuck inside your body until either, someone stops it or…it paralyzes your diaphragm so completely that you can’t even breathe.”
“You don’t have it in you.” He laughs, shaking his head. “So soft. Always so fucking soft.” He says, almost reverently.
“You underestimate how much I hate you.” I stick the needle in the bottle and release the syringe, filling it up. “I don’t know what the correct dosage is, I might accidentally overdose you. But whatever.”
“You can’t kill me. You’d go to jail.”
“I was never here, so that’d be hard to pin on me. Benefits of being a poor little rich girl, you can buy things like silence.” I smile. “Who knew? ”
“Kaija…” His voice is hesitant and he watches me put the bottle down, tracking my every movement. “What, what do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me if you’re working with Richard Brooks, what Bahi Amin is doing, and I want you to leave my family the fuck alone.”
“I can’t tell you that.” He gives one last try at belligerence, and I shake my head like I’m sad.
“Well…look at it this way. You won’t have to spend the rest of your years in prison.” I insert the needle and push the syringe, putting the fluid into the IV. He watches it with frantic eyes and I see the bead of sweat on his forehead.
“Stop it! Stop! I’ll talk, fuck I’ll talk!” He finally gives in, yanking at his restraints, trying to yank the IV out and I pinch the cord before the liquid makes it to his arm.