Scandalicious

by Hobbs, Allison

  Wanting an up-close look at justice being served, Lincoln followed the police cars, with sirens blaring as they speeded to the shopping plaza. Blending in with all the shocked onlookers, Lincoln smirked when the Navigator was surrounded by cops.

  He wished Earl could have shared the enjoyment of seeing Raheem stretched out over the hood of his truck, while the jug of milk he’d been holding, hit the ground with a great splatter.

  Nodding his head in satisfaction, Lincoln smirked when the police retrieved a gun from Raheem’s waistband. Gotchu, you milk-drinking predator!

  Raheem was carted off to jail, and Lincoln continued to watch the spectacle until the Navigator was chained and towed.

  Lincoln checked his cell phone, wondering if he’d missed Earl’s call. The only calls had come from Chevonne and Earl’s girlfriend, Michelle. Michelle had left eleven messages. The poor woman was probably frantic, wondering why Earl had packed his belongings and left without warning. Lincoln didn’t know what to tell her, so he didn’t bother to return her calls.

  Lincoln stuck his phone in his pocket, deciding to wait until tomorrow to get in touch with Michelle. In the morning, he’d be working with a clearer mind and be able to come up with a plausible explanation for his brother’s sudden departure.

  Michelle was a good and hardworking woman, but Earl needed to get away from hood life for a while. Being forced to live out in the sticks might be a blessing in disguise.

  Chuckling to himself, he thought about Raheem’s predicament. Nobody likes jail, and so even if Raheem was held for only a few days or a couple of weeks, Lincoln doubted if the dude would be stupid enough to come back on the streets, looking for trouble. If Raheem wanted to keep that job of his, he’d be wise to keep a low profile.

  Never much of a drinking man, Lincoln figured tonight was an exception. Instead of going straight home, he decided to stop at a bar and have a private, victory celebration. Feeling good after throwing back a couple shots of tequila, Lincoln headed home.

  It was late, and the house was quiet. As he climbed the stairs, he caught a pleasant whiff of Chevonne’s favorite scent. The sexy fragrance wafted from the bedroom, sending a signal to his brain and then down to his dick. Twitching and stiffening, his dick had an instant reaction. Smiling, he opened the bedroom door.

  Candles were lit all around the bedroom. Chevonne was lounging on the bed, lying on her side. The mound of her ass was outlined by soft fabric. Once again, Chevonne was wearing that sexy red lingerie. Lincoln stood still for a moment and stared at his beautiful wife. She was a feast for the eyes. She gazed at Lincoln questioningly, silently asking if he was in the mood to make love tonight.

  He didn’t say a word; he didn’t have to. His rod was trying to burst out of his pants. Moving his erection to a more comfortable position, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Pants fell down his thighs and gathered around his ankles. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. His dick was so hard, it was jutting almost obscenely through the opening of his briefs. With his mouth slack, his gaze fixed on Chevonne’s firm ass, he moved slowly toward the bed.

  There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that tonight he was going to tear that pussy up.

  CHAPTER 33

  “None of this makes any sense. Everything was going good between me and Earl. Why would he suddenly move out?” Michelle cried. This was the third time in ten minutes that she’d asked that same damn question.

  “That’s how Earl is,” Lincoln said weakly. He wished he could think of more comforting words, but nothing came to mind.

  “I mean…what else could he be looking for? I cook for him, I pay all of the bills. He gets good loving whenever he wants it,” she said, followed by more mournful sobbing.

  That was too much information. With growing impatience, Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck.

  “What can another woman do for him that I’m not doing?”

  “My brother has a wandering eye. He’s always been fickle. I’m real sorry he ran out on you.”

  “Sorry don’t ease my pain,” she said with belligerence that seemed to be directed at Lincoln, as if she sensed that he’d played a part in Earl’s mysterious departure.

  “I just can’t understand why he’d walk off like this. The only thing I can’t give him right now is transportation…and it’s not my fault that the car got booted and towed. You see, what had happened was—”

  “Earl’s not the most responsible person in the world,” Lincoln cut in. He’d already heard Earl’s account of that story, and though there was probably much more to it than Earl had admitted, he had no interest whatsoever in hearing Michelle’s version.

  Listening to the woman go on and on was becoming intolerable. He tapped his pen on his desk, wondering how he could hang up without appearing heartless.

  “I don’t see what another bitch can do for Earl. I mean…seriously…I pay for his weed, the porn he rents—and that chat line bill, whew!”

  “Chat line?”

  “Yeah, Earl is easily bored. So while I’m at work he gets on those singles chat lines just to have something to do. It don’t mean anything. He likes being a fly on the wall, listening to other people’s freaky conversations.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said, while actually thinking that Michelle was an idiot and a glutton for punishment.

  “Cable, rent, phone, gas, electric, weed, porn, chat line and gas when we had the car…I pay all that shit. Earl don’t contribute to nothing!” she said fervently, working herself up to anger that would no doubt be followed by more tears.

  Michelle shouldn’t have been taking care of his brother—enabling him to be a freeloader and allowing him to behave like a perpetual child. If he’d had an emotional investment in Michelle, he would have tried to counsel and suggested that she was a big part of the problem. But he didn’t know her well and had no intention of including her in his inner circle, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

  Lincoln sighed. Michelle was draining him with her sobbing and asinine reasoning. He didn’t know what else to say. He stared at the clock. At the beginning of the call, she’d said that she was on her fifteen-minute work break. Hopefully, break time would soon be over.

  Michelle sniffled loudly, but had apparently run out of words.

  “Well, I have to get back to work,” Lincoln said, using the lull in the conversation as an opportune moment to get her off of the phone.

  As if he hadn’t said a word, Michelle launched into another conversation. “Earl was acting weird the night before he split—real nervous and jumpy. Somebody knocked on the door and he jetted to the bathroom…pushed open the window and was about to hop out. I had to yell and tell him that it was Crowbar’s girl, Sharonda, at the door, to keep him from leaping.”

  “Crowbar’s girl?” Lincoln was suddenly very alert. Lincoln now recalled that Earl had deliberately avoided telling him why Crowbar’s girlfriend had come over that night. “What did she want?”

  “She was looking for Crowbar. He was supposed to be at the rehab place, but he never made it.”

  Lincoln felt a little queasy.

  “Sharonda was fit to be tied. She was so mad with Crowbar for tricking her into giving him her last little bit of money. He told her that he needed the money to check hisself back into rehab. But when she called the facility, they told her Crowbar had never showed up. Sharonda asked Earl where and when he’d last seen her man. Earl started stuttering and stammering, and looking like he was scared.”

  A chill went down Lincoln’s spine. Now he knew why Earl had been so desperate to get out of town. Earl suspected that Raheem had caught up with Crowbar before he’d made it out of Philly.

  And now Lincoln was really worried. He hadn’t heard from Earl since he got out of his car yesterday morning. It terrified him to think that Earl had met with foul play. He cursed himself for not insisting that his brother give him the phone number and address of the woman who lived in Leiperville. He didn’t have any pertinent information—n
ot even a name.

  “I don’t know where Earl is, but the minute I hear from him, I’ll make sure that he gets in touch with you.”

  “You know what?”

  “What?” he answered wearily.

  “I’ma fuck Earl up when I get my hands on him,” Michelle raged. “He’s wrong as hell to put me through this. Why would he do this to me when everything between us was going so good? Just last week, we were talking about having a baby,” she said wistfully.

  Just when Lincoln didn’t think he could take any more of Michelle’s ridiculous lament, the call dropped. He didn’t know if Michelle’s break was over or if her battery had gone dead. Whatever the case, he was grateful.

  Staring at the set of blueprints on his desk as if they held the secret of his brother’s whereabouts, he asked in whisper, “Where are you, Earl? You know you should have called me by now!”

  Confounded, Lincoln scratched his head.

  His cell vibrated and Lincoln grabbed it, ready to shut it off. He wasn’t giving Michelle another second of his time. But when he gazed at the screen, he saw an unfamiliar area code. “Hello!”

  “This is my new number, so lock it in,” Earl said lazily.

  “Earl! Man, you had me scared to death. Why’d you take so long to call? Man, don’t do this to me anymore.”

  “Why you bitching at me for? You need to check yourself, cuz you whining and crying like a female.”

  Lincoln laughed heartily. His brother’s slur didn’t bother him at all. He was so happy to hear Earl’s voice, he didn’t give a damn about any derogatory remarks.

  “I just got off the phone with Michelle,” Lincoln said in a serious voice.

  “Man, I’m not tryna hear that.”

  “I know, Earl. But she said something that made me pause.”

  Earl went quiet, no doubt inhaling marijuana and holding the smoke in his lungs. “What did she say?”

  “She said that Crowbar never made it to rehab.”

  “Dang, I was just starting to feel a little buzz. Why’d you have to remind me about what happened to Crowbar?”

  “Do you know what happened to him?”

  “No, but if I had to guess, I’d say that the nut bull caught up with him and fucked him up with those explosives.”

  Lincoln shuddered. “Look, I want you to stay where you are. Forget about Philly for a while.” Getting Raheem arrested was only a temporary solution. There was no proof that jail had purged him of the grudge he harbored.

  “I’m straight. You ain’t gotta worry about me coming back to town. I mean…it’s not all peaches and cream. This chick has two bad-ass kids, but I’m dealing with the situation.”

  “Okay, good.” Lincoln wrote down all of Earl’s pertinent contact information, and found out that his new girlfriend’s name was Ivella Drummond. Thankful that his brother was safe from harm, Lincoln was finally able to relax.

  Earl’s life hadn’t been going anywhere in Philly. The woman named Ivella already had two boys, and Lincoln could only hope that she wasn’t looking to raise a third child. It was time for Earl to step up to the plate and act like a man. It was wishful thinking, but Lincoln could dream, couldn’t he?

  CHAPTER 34

  Melanee didn’t want to be at work today. The atmosphere in the Scandalicious kitchen was crazy and chaotic. Vidal, who loved to create drama, hadn’t even arrived yet, and somehow Solay was managing to cause a disturbance all by herself.

  Solay was getting on Melanee’s last nerve. She was worrying aloud about fulfilling her promise to bake two thousand cupcakes for a charity event.

  The way Solay kept repeating, “I don’t know how I’m going to get it all done and still manage Scandalicious,” was really aggravating. Had Solay asked Melanee’s professional opinion, she would have told her that a job that big couldn’t be done without a team of experienced bakers. But all Solay saw were dollar signs. She hadn’t asked Melanee’s opinion, and so Melanee didn’t offer it.

  And now she was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, acting clumsy—clattering and banging pans and she even dropped a whole carton of eggs.

  Melanee turned her head away from the slimy mess, defiantly refusing to give Solay any assistance. She did not intend to involve herself in Solay’s problems.

  She was bored with making the same ole butter cream and cream cheese frostings, but Solay was too cheap to jazz up the menu. As she blended sugar and butter, she couldn’t suppress a yawn. A good hour of sleep would be refreshing.

  After being ejected from Madam’s house, Melanee had spent the next few hours lying in her stuffy little bedroom as thoughts and worries jostled in her mind. The butler’s contempt for her was apparent. His words, “I never want to see you again,” stung like hell. Not that she cared to see him, either, but she was concerned that he’d be able to convince Madam Midnight that she was unworthy of serving her. That prick of a butler wanted Madam all to himself. Though Melanee was certain that she’d satisfied Madam, the butler seemed to have a great influence on the woman’s decisions.

  Reminded that Madam had clearly said that she belonged to her now, Melanee felt somewhat hopeful. She wondered if Madam would hold an official ceremony to declare Melanee as her prized possession.

  She thought of Colden and sighed. She actually felt a little guilty for betraying him. But she had a right to be with the master of her choosing, and Colden was always too busy for Melanee. He’d never really taken control of her the way that she desired. Madam lived her role as a dominant twenty-four-seven and Melanee longed to be at her beck and call.

  During her many troubled thoughts, she wondered if Madam would contact her through Colden. She preferred that Madam contact her directly, but Melanee’s feelings were inconsequential. Being an insignificant submissive, she had no say-so or knowledge in the manner in which dominants traded chattel.

  All she could do was wait and hope that she’d hear from her new mistress very soon. Maybe she could quit this dumb job and bake for Madam—using only low-fat ingredients, in order to help Madam maintain her beautiful physique.

  Racks and racks of cupcakes had cooled and were ready to be frosted. Piping bag in hand, Melanee stretched her mouth open and gave an enormous yawn.

  At that exact moment, her phone jangled softly.

  She dropped the bag of frosting and ripped the phone from her apron pocket. Colden was calling, and Melanee didn’t know what to expect. Ignoring Solay’s curious glance, she walked out of the kitchen and went into the dimly lit dining area to take the call in private.

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered, but even spoken softly, the words sounded hollow and false.

  “Am I? I’ve been told otherwise,” Colden responded in a chilly tone.

  “What do you mean?” She feigned innocence, but her heart quickened in anticipation of news from Madam.

  “I loaned you to Madam Midnight, but it appears that you two have been plotting behind my back.”

  “No, I’d never do that,” Melanee lied. “She told me that I belonged to her, and what could I say? I was under the impression that you gave me away.”

  “I did nothing of the sort. And it’s completely inappropriate for Madam Midnight to claim something that doesn’t belong to her. She’s overstepped her boundaries.”

  Wow, this is not going the way that I’d hoped. Melanee pulled off one of the plastic gloves she wore while baking and anxiously nibbled on her fingernail.

  “Do you want me to contact her, and tell her that she misunderstood?” Melanee sounded sincere, but she really wanted Madam’s contact information so that she could plead for her to take her.

  “No,” Colden answered. “Madam Midnight is a powerful woman and very well connected. She is not the sort of woman that anyone wants as an enemy.”

  Melanee sighed in relief. Colden was going to relinquish her to Madam. She wished that she could leave work early, go home, and start packing. There was no doubt in her mind that she belonged with Madam Midnight.


  While Colden was quiet, no doubt thinking of how to outwit Madam, Melanee was imagining going to bed each evening and waking every morning with her face buried between Madam Midnight’s sculpted legs.

  “I have an idea,” he said, sounding peeved as he interrupted her sensual reverie.

  “Yes, Master, what do you have in mind?” she asked in a shaky voice. Colden was a clever man, and she feared that he might have come up with a conceivable plan to keep her for himself. Save me, Madam; don’t let him keep me!

  “Madam Midnight bores easily. She never keeps her subs for very long. Only last night, she sent that blond boy packing. She shipped him to Toronto to work for her Canadian modeling agency.”

  Melanee was intrigued by the information, and terribly flattered. Madam kicked Garrett to the curb for me!

  “You and I are going to indulge Madam’s whims. Between you and me, I am your rightful owner, but until Madam replaces you with another, we have no choice but to go along with her wishes.”

  Melanee’s lips spread into a broad grin. “What’s next, Master? I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any experience serving anyone except you.”

  “She’s an odd woman, with an odd way of doing things, so until she claims you, I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

  “Yes, sir.” The thrill of excitement gave her a cold shiver.

  “Meet me at my place tonight. Unfortunately, it may be the last time we spend time together for a while,” Colden said solemnly. It took Madam Midnight’s interest in Melanee for Colden to realize her value.

  One man’s trash is another woman’s treasure!

  After hanging up with Colden, Melanee returned to the kitchen feeling uplifted. She couldn’t help smirking when she noticed Solay mopping the section of the kitchen where she’d dropped the eggs. Solay had overextended herself; now she was further delayed, having to do grunge work. It served her right.