Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2)

by Dianne, Shannon

  “Calm down! When are you going to Baton Rouge?”

  “Hell, tonight! I’ll just text Jon when I get there and tell him to bring Nicky to me. I’ll work from Baton Rouge until the smoke clears in Boston. As a matter of fact, where is Jon?”

  “He’s at a hotel. The guys just drove back to Boston.”

  “So where’s Nicky?”

  “Apparently Nicky was with his godparents for a few hours but Jon has him now.”

  “I swear, I’m going to cuss Jon’s ass out. He really disappointed me tonight.”

  “Okay, so since we’re all supposed to be going to Hilton Head anyways, I’ll just go with you to Baton Rouge and bring Georgie. I’m already packed anyways.”

  “Me too. What about Jasmine?”

  “She obviously hasn’t heard of the fight yet, considering she hasn’t called us in tears. We’ll call her and tell her that there’s been a change of plans, the guys got into a scuffle and we think it’s best if we don’t spend the holiday with Malcolm and his people in South Carolina. We’ll say that we’re spending the holidays in Louisiana instead … our old stomping grounds.”

  “She didn’t want to hang out with Malcolm and his people anyways.”

  “See, all is well. By the time we get back next week, everything will be fine. Matt, Jasmine and Marlon can meet us in Baton Rouge on Sunday instead of going to Hilton Head. I’ll tell Matt that you and I are going a day early in order to arrange housing.”

  “Brilliant. That sounds perfectly logical. So Baton Rouge, instead of Hilton Head.”

  “Right.”

  “Listen, I’m going upstairs to my condo to grab my bags. If Malcolm and the Fultons don’t kill me, let’s meet at the airport. We’ll try to get on a red-eye.”

  “No one’s going to kill you, you’re just paranoid. I’ll see you there.” I end the call with Rena as I hear the elevator door ding and then slide open. Malcolm is standing there looking darker, bigger, earthier, deeper and taller than he did on the plane. His face is banged up in all the right places: a bruise on his right cheek bone and a small cut near his left eyebrow. He winks at me as he walks off the elevator, takes me in his arms, bends downs and kisses me on the lips. For a brief moment, I almost forget that I’m supposed to be afraid of him. I almost forget that he’s too cavalier right now for my tastes. But when someone has full lips, wide shoulders and a devil-may-care wink, you almost forget that he’s just lied to you about everything that’s been happening for the past week. You almost forget that it’s because of him that you tried to murder the wrong person. You almost forget that he’s now trying to murder you. Almost.

  “You’re almost out of chips,” He says, “I’ll grab some on the way back.”

  “So you and the Fultons have decided not to murder me?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Red, relax. I’ll fix everything, no one will find out about you and that fire. And I’m not familiar enough with the Fultons to collaborate a murder with them.” He smiles. “So no worries there. You’re high that’s all. Come on, let’s go upstairs so you can sleep it off.”

  “You’re very convincing Malcolm.” I say as we walk onto the elevator together. “Very convincing indeed.” I still don’t trust him. He smiles and shakes his head again.

  “I should’ve been recording your ass tonight.” He says with a laugh. “This shit is too funny.”

  While the elevator rises, he wraps me in his arms until it stops on my floor and then walks me to my door in silence. But it’s too silent now. That’s when I figure it all out; there’s a two-man firing squad inside of my condo. This is the calm before the storm. Jacob and Nat are probably in there, somehow having snuck past me with the help of Nell and are now lurking in the dark shadows of my condo, waiting for me to enter. I unlock the door slowly, very slowly, giving Malcolm a chance to save me.

  “Do you need me to help?” He asks.

  “I most certainly do not.” I answer. Bastard. I whip the door open and it bangs against the hallway’s wall. Aha!

  Nothing.

  “Yeah, it’s probably best if you have a few chips and then head to bed.” Malcolm says as he checks the wall, making sure I didn’t leave a hole. Why? So you can kill me in my sleep and say I choked on a chip?

  “I’ll do that.” I say, nodding.

  We stand there for a silent moment; me nodding my head, him looking at me do it.

  “I’ll hurry back.” He says before leaning in and giving me another kiss on the lips. I can see him trying to suppress another smile. All fun and games huh? “Will you promise to let me handle this?”

  “Of course.” Not a chance. I don’t put my life in the hands of anyone. Not even you Malcolm.

  “Thank you.” He says before he turns to leave. I ease my door close and then I begin punching into my cell phone.

  Me 3:35 am: I’m not dead so I’ll be at the airport in 45 minutes.

  Rena 3:35 am: I’m already in a cab.

  I then write a mass text message to everyone, including my parents, notifying them of our change of plans.

  Me 3:36 am: Know it’s late but Rena, Georgie and I think it’s best to go to Baton Rouge instead of Hilton Head … and I think you all know why (Jon I’ll deal with you later … mom and dad I’ll call you in the morning and tell you all about Jon.) So change your flights and come to Baton Rouge tomorrow. Rena and I are about to catch a red-eye flight to Baton Rouge now to find a rental home. Au revoir.

  Jon 3:36 am: Answer your phone I’m trying to call you.

  Me 3:36 am: I’ll deal with you in Baton Rouge.

  I reach into my clutch to make sure my debit cards and license are there. Wait … where’s my license? I lean over and dump everything that’s in my clutch onto the floor. I know my license has to be in here, I never really doubted that it wasn’t. Checking for it is just a formality that everyone does when they’re about to catch a flight. My license … my license … not here. Did I leave it in a bar in New York? Now some loony will have my address. Great, now I have to move. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Good thing Jasmine married a real estate agent. I grab my cell phone.

  Me 3:39 am: Marlon when you wake up in the morning, do me a favor, find me a new home. I’ll get the keys from you in Baton Rouge.

  Okay, so that’s done. I scoop the belongings of my clutch off the floor and back into it. Then I run into my bedroom, open my top dresser drawer and feel for my passport. Got it. Alright, so Baton Rouge here we come. Rena and I couldn’t have thought of a better plan. For better or for worse, together we are unstoppable.

  Danielle

  4:45 a.m.

  “Your passport is denied.” What did the ticket agent just say? I look between Rena and Georgie who are beside me. Poor sweet and innocent Georgie, only one year old and he’s about to witness Auntie Danielle cuss somebody’s ass out. I look to Georgie as my muse; for his sake I must deal with this matter calmly. But then I notice that his hair is swooped to the side, with a part in it. He looks like an extra on the set of Grease. Why the hell did Rena brush his hair like that? I look back to the ticket agent.

  “What the fuck do you mean denied?” I say.

  “I’m sorry Miss, but I’ve been told not to allow you to travel by air.”

  I drop my carryon bag on the ground and look around for the US Marine Corps. Because surely, they’ll be running over to tackle me and then hauling me off to the security room to water-board me. I mean, isn’t that what happens to people who aren’t allowed on planes?

  “Whoa …” Rena says as she eases her carryon bag onto the ground. And for the first time ever, I see fear in Rena’s eyes. This isn’t good. Rena’s the only woman I know who is fearless. She arranged for Laura’s house to burn to the ground. (While Laura was still inside of it!) She lives on a street that has a ‘Drug Free Zone’ sign. She eats seafood at shitty ass dives. She’s not afraid of anything. “And here I was thinking you were just paranoid.”

  “Why in the world is it denied?” I ask the ag
ent.

  “Well as soon as I entered your information and purchased your ticket, a message flashed saying that your passport ID was temporarily suspended.”

  “Oh, shit!” Rena says, her eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them. “They’re coming for us.” She whispers.

  For the second time in my life I’m speechless. (The first being the time with Father Harper and my porno pictures.)

  “Why?” I ask the agent.

  “Child support payments.” The agent answers. Is this bitch crazy!

  “What! I don’t pay child support!”

  “Sorry but that’s what it says. You’re delinquent and when you owe over $2,500, the US suspends your passport.” I … I don’t know … I’m just speechless.

  “Oh he’s fucking with us! What are we going to do?” Rena whispers to me. Georgie has his little ass head in the mix, he wants to know too.

  “I have no idea.” I say. Rena and I look at each other for a moment, shaking our heads in unison. “I think he’s really upset about what I did to Laura.” I tell her and Georgie.

  “You think!”

  “There’s no telling what he plans on doing to the three of us.”

  “Damn Danielle, and you had no idea that this muthafucka was still in love with this woman when you asked me to ruin her damn life? Were you that damn blind?”

  “If I thought Malcolm still loved Laura, do you think I would have let you burn her alive?”

  Rena still doesn’t know the whole story about her actually burning Malcolm’s house down or about Lola being my stalker. And to tell you the truth, I’m feeling a little uncomfortable now about telling her. She’s sure to think that all of her work was for naught and she’s sure to blame me for this catastrophe. So for now, I’ll keep those little secrets to myself. Because, to be honest, Rena’s being a little rude at the moment.

  “That son-of-a-bitch … Okay, let me think.” Rena says as she closes her eyes and drops her head back.

  “Let’s drive.” Yep, that’s exactly what we’ll do.

  “Drive to Baton Rouge?”

  “Malcolm’s probably stopped me from getting on a train too and we don’t have time to go and see.”

  “Then we’ll have to drive. I’ll rent the car. Let’s do it.”

  Malcolm is a piece of work. This was the last straw. He’s given me the Kiss of Death and has most recently put me on the no-fly list. He has proven to me that he can’t be trusted. Now that I think about it, he probably stole my license. Oh this is laughable! Does he really think that a missing license and denied passport will stop me? Does he actually think that he has me cornered? Does he think he’s grounded me? Does he think he’s trapped me in Boston? Well he can think again. He’s not calling the shots, I call the damn shots here! My name is Danielle Rouge, and the Rouge’s have been calling shots since Queen Elizabeth was a princess. He can keep me out of a damn plane. He can keep me off of a damn train. He won’t keep me from driving a damn car. Rena, Georgie and I are driving our asses to Louisiana. I’m in control of my life, Malcolm Blair. Not you. As a matter of fact, Malcolm is starting to annoy me and he knows what happens to people who annoy me. So this is the game that he wants to play huh? Fine then, let’s play ball bitch! But remember Malcolm, football is a game of two halves.

  Malcolm

  4:50 a.m.

  “When I woke up, she was gone.” Cadence says as he paces in front of the window in his hotel suite while Jacob and Nat both sit on the couches nearby. I’m standing a few feet away from Cadence with my hands in my coat pockets. My hands are in my pockets so that I may remain a free man. Otherwise, I’d be breaking his fucking neck right now and then gearing up for the chair. “Gone.” He repeats. Do you want to know what my brother has on? Do you really want to know? He’s wearing a white tee, grey dress slacks and is barefoot. Barefoot. Shoe-less. His feet are barren. Laura is out here in Boston, roaming the streets without Lithium, a purpose or a drop of sense and Cadence is barefoot. It never dawned on him that he should be prepared to jump up and get her at a moment’s notice. It never dawned on him that he should be ready for the unexpected.

  “Go put some clothes on.” I say with measured patience.

  “Malcolm, listen, I tried to stay up with her but I was exhausted. You don’t know what I went through to sneak the two of us in here without anyone suspecting anything.”

  “Go put some clothes on Cadence.” Patience. I must have patience right now, but it’s been a long ass night.

  I know what you’re thinking; you’re thinking Red has driven me up the wall tonight. She’s the type to mull over an issue inside of her head and then abruptly carry on her internal conversation to someone in the outside world. Then, she actually gets offended when no one knows what in the hell she’s talking about. We’ve all been there when you’re with someone and they suddenly say: Yeah, I think we should go there. And when you ask where, they get agitated as hell: To Disneyland next year for Mickey’s 150th birthday celebration! Shit, where else? Yeah, she’s been doing that, but that didn’t bother me. I can handle her telling me about her great-grandfather killing a bullshitter. (I’ve got a gut feeling I was supposed to correlate that story to me and I have to admit, I nearly feared being alone with her afterwards. In fact, when I went into her condo alone, I hid all the knives, just in case.) I can handle her thinking that I’m planning on killing her with the help of the Fultons. I can handle us both thinking that the other is planning murder and then being pleasantly surprised when we both walk away alive. As crazy as that shit sounds, I can handle that. I have patience with her; she’s obviously never smoked a day in her life. And trust me, she may have just made me say ‘no’ to drugs after that show she put on. But Cadence, someone who’s been a lawyer for nearly ten years and yet still carries on like he’s a goddamn rookie, that pisses me off. I have no patience for that shit.

  “I know you’re mad.” Cadence says as he comes and stands in front of me, smelling like soap and smoke. He can wash the stench of fire off of his body but he hasn’t washed it out of his clothes. He’s roaming around Boston smelling like puffs of smoke. He checked into the Ritz Carlton smelling like a burning building and he stands here and claims that no one suspected anything.

  “I have a news flash for you Cadence, the gentleman currently at the front desk of this hotel, the one who checked you in, has already called his wife. He’s already told her that Attorney Cadence Blair has rented a room and that he smells like smoke.” I know this to be true; it’s too obvious not to be. It’s not the wind but the Chinese Whispers that fuel a fire. Cadence has just sparked a flame and all because he smells of smoke.

  “I regret that my appearance is subpar; I didn’t have time to grab an ensemble from the closet. Stupid me, all I did was drag Laura out alive.” He rolls his eyes and starts pacing again. “From there we ran to Chestnut Street to get a cab.”

  “So not only did the man at the front desk smell smoke on you, the cabbie did as well. Go on.” He closes his eyes and throws his head back.

  “And then we checked in here. She hid her face the entire time.”

  “Making herself obvious … I’m listening.”

  “God, Malcolm! Jeez! We showered and then I called you. I was about to track down a contact to get your name off the deed but …” He drops his head and looks at me. “I was bushed after all of that, so I drifted off to sleep.” I’m about to slap the shit out of him. “And when I woke up, she was gone.” There’s silence as I walk closer to him, stand an inch away and look him square in his eyes.

  “You not changing that deed has risked Danielle’s safety.” My voice is still measured, still patient.

  “I just don’t get it. What’s the big deal? So you owned the house that Laura stayed in. So what?”

  “So what?” I look back and smile at Jacob and Nat. Nat looks serious but Jake leans back, smiles and throws his hands up. “He says it’s no big deal, Jake.” I shrug. Jacob shrugs back at me.

  “I mean, from what I s
ee …” Cadence says. Whop! I knock him right in the head. He stumbles back and then rights himself again; his breathing labored, his face red, his jaw clenched.

  “Sorry,” I say to him, putting both of my hands up in a truce, “I was just trying to knock some sense into you. Did it work?” I move my head, looking into his eyes like an optometrist would, trying to see if there’s some remnants of a brain in there. “So Cadence, this can go one of two ways. Now I’ll give you both scenarios and then afterwards, you can tell me which way you think I’ll go. Deal?” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, scenario one: the media finds out that a home I owned caught on fire. The fire department then releases a statement saying that the fire did not appear to be accidental. The media discovers that Laura was living in that home. They make mention that I am currently separated from Laura and that I’m currently seeing Danielle. They then begin to speculate as to how and why the fire started. Get it?”

  “Fuck.” He puts his head in his hands.

  “And then there’s scenario two: the media finds out that a home I owned caught on fire. The fire department tells the media that the fire was not accidental. The media receives video footage, from my security cameras, of both you and Laura entering the home. They make mention of the lateness of hour and the absence of Lola. Get it?”

  “But wait, how would they get the video footage?”

  And then we both stare at each other. Silence. I can see his breathing growing even heavier. He has his answer. It’s either his woman or mine. And it won’t be mine.

  Jacob and I installed those security cameras right after Laura came to Hilton Head and completely showed her ass. I watched her in the rarest form that I’ve ever seen her and knew that she would cause me problems. I studied her that night and tried to predict her next move. Admittedly, I didn’t foresee this fire but like I said, I’m always nearby holding a glass of water. Jacob and I installed the security cameras ourselves without anyone knowing, including Nat. We always keep him in the loop during normal business matters but this was an exception. We didn’t want him to cave and tell Dena about them. The footage is monitored and stored in an online catalog operated by me. I’ve already seen the footage of Cadence and Laura entering her home together the night of the fire. I’ve also seen the footage of a team of three fire-starters setting the blaze. I’ve seen the footage of Cadence and Laura running out the backdoor. I’ve seen the footage of her holding on to what appeared to be a book. I was prepared for something I had no idea would happen. And now, I’m preparing for that book. Cadence just said he ran out of the house in a rush, Laura was the only thing he had time to grab. So how is it that Laura had time to grab a book? What’s so important about this book?