Love in the Limelight: Volume One

by Brenda Jackson, A. C. Arthur

  “This is nice,” Charlene was saying as she opened up her menu. It was their first real date and she was excited. Cliff had driven them but he’d made Jax and Steve follow in another car. There had been a lot of whispering between Akil and Jax before he’d finally gotten in the car and she desperately wanted to ask what was going on but didn’t want to spoil the evening.

  Now they were seated and about to order and although he was sitting right across from her Charlene still felt like he was miles away. Deciding that enough was enough, she put her menu down. “Akil, what’s going on?”

  He looked at her strangely. “What? I’m looking at the menu to see what I want.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean. You’ve been acting weird for a couple of days now. Actually, since the night at the club. What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. No.” His answer was quick. He reached a hand across the table to take hers. “You were great. The audience really loved you and the owner wants you to come back again. ‘Never Before Like This’ is definitely going to be the first single we release. The sound was just right and you looked fantastic up there.”

  And he was dancing around the real subject like Usher danced around on stage.

  “Great. Now tell me what’s going on with you. Not the producer. Not the songs on the CD or how I looked. I want to know what’s bothering you.”

  He sighed heavily, released her hand and resumed looking at the menu. “Nothing’s bothering me. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” she snapped. “You bounce from happy to sad to mad in ten minutes flat. I’d venture to say you might be bipolar but I don’t think it’s a chemical imbalance causing your mood swings. I think something is going on, something you don’t want to talk to me about.” He didn’t say anything and she felt like she was losing this battle.

  “Jason’s worried about you, too. He says you’re not focused and that’s not like you. I tend to believe him.”

  Akil slammed the menu on the table. “So you and Jason have been cozying up talking about me?”

  “No. Me and Jason care about you and we’re concerned. If you gave a damn about us you wouldn’t keep us in the dark about whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

  “Don’t do that,” he said slowly, his dark eyes burning into hers. “You know how I feel about you, Charlene. Don’t use it like that.”

  “I’m not using anything, Akil. I’m just trying to understand you. Ever since I met you you’ve been hot and cold, either toward me or just in general. I don’t know how to take you from one minute to the next. It’s crazy.”

  “So you want to leave, is that what you’re saying?”

  Well, where had that come from? This entire conversation was going in a direction Charlene hadn’t anticipated and wasn’t sure she could handle. But she’d come this far, she wasn’t about to back down now.

  “I love you, Akil. I came out here to make an album, not to fall in love. But I did and I’m okay with that. I enjoy being with you and working with you. But I feel like you’re holding something back from me.”

  “I’m not seeing someone else, if that’s what you think. I’d never do that.”

  “I didn’t think it was another woman. But I know it’s something. Something that’s keeping you from being with me completely. I don’t know what it is and that scares me.”

  “Don’t,” he said, reaching for both her hands this time. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of me, Charlene. I would never hurt you.”

  “Well, isn’t this cozy.”

  Akil froze the minute he heard the voice.

  “Superproducer Akil Hutton and his new singer, Ms. Charlene Quinn.” T.K. was pulling up a chair, sitting down between Akil and Charlene. “Or should I say Akil Hutton and his new honey having a nice romantic dinner? Yeah, that would be a better headline, don’t you think, Akil?”

  Charlene was looking from him to T.K. and back to him again. He released her hands and sat back in his chair. “What are you doing here?”

  “Come on, man. Is that any way to introduce me to your lady friend?” He extended his hand to Charlene. “I’m T.K., an old friend of Akil’s. Actually, we’re more like brothers. I’m sure he’s told you about me.”

  Shaking his hand, Charlene looked questioningly at Akil. “No, I’m sorry he didn’t. You said you’re old friends?”

  Akil knew she was remembering back to that night in the pool house when he’d gotten that call and told her it was from an old friend. One of the things he loved about Charlene in the studio was that she was a quick study, she picked up the notes and rhythm after he’d gone over it one time. He could see that she was that way with every aspect of her life.

  “Hell, yeah. We go way back. I mean we used to share bunk beds, that’s how far back we go.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Akil said tightly. “Why don’t you get going, T.K.? You and I can hook up later.”

  T.K. was shaking his head. “Nah, I’m hungry. You haven’t ordered yet, right? So let me get the menu.”

  “No!” Akil said quickly.

  “It’s okay,” Charlene stated. “I don’t mind having company for dinner, Akil.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “But we aim to please our women,” T.K. said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  Akil sighed and out of the corner of his eye saw Jax making his way to the table. He held up a hand, halting his bodyguard’s approach. He could handle T.K. himself. He just needed to get him away from Charlene.

  “How about we go outside and talk,” Akil offered.

  T.K. picked up a glass of water, drinking slowly. “No, thanks. We tried that and it didn’t work. I figure it’s time for phase two.”

  “T.K.,” Akil warned.

  Charlene put her napkin on the table. “Akil, what’s going on?”

  Her question echoed in his head, replaying as if she’d been asking him that for hours, days, weeks since they met. “Nothing. I’ll take care of it,” was his reply but he didn’t know if he believed it.

  “I hoped you would,” T.K. said. “This place doesn’t have any red meat, did you know that?” He acted as if he were engrossed in the menu.

  Akil pushed back in his chair and stood. “Let’s go outside, T.K.”

  “No,” T.K. said simply, letting the menu drop to the table. “Let’s not. I have other things to do so I’ll make this quick.” He looked up at Akil. “You can stand or sit, suit yourself.”

  “T.K.” His voice was low, warning.

  “So, Charlene, you’re sleeping with Akil here? I guess you could do worse.”

  “What?” Charlene gasped.

  Akil reached for T.K.’s arm and pulled him up. “Don’t do this.”

  T.K. laughed. “Oh, now you’re taking me seriously. Too late, bro. What’s the matter? You were Mr. Tough Guy at the club the other night, standing me down, even threatening me not to go near your little lady.”

  “You were at the club last week?” Charlene asked, confusion clear in her voice.

  Akil waved his other arm and signaled for Jax to come over; this was getting out of hand. Jax was at the table in seconds. “Get her out of here,” he told him.

  “You want her to leave before I tell her the news?” T.K. drawled.

  Charlene had just pulled her arm from Jax’s grip. “What news?”

  “I knew he wouldn’t tell you. The FBI, they’re looking for him.”

  “I’m gonna kill you,” Akil said through clenched teeth.

  “Ah, there you go with those threats again. You know I’m scared one day he’s really going to go through with it. It’s said after a killer makes his first kill the others are like a walk in the park.”

  Everything around him froze. Jax didn’t move. T.K. kept that stupid grin on his face. And Charlene’s gaze fell on him, confused, hurt, still.

  “A killer,” she barely whispered the word.

  “Yeah,” T.K. lowered his tone to a whisper. “Akil killed his mother—that’s w
hy he had to leave Baltimore. And since she was a federal snitch and the Feds just got new info on her killer, they’re looking for your boy here. You should probably distance yourself from him now. He’ll kill your career.” T.K. chuckled. “No pun intended.”

  “What...” She tried to swallow but her throat was dry, her tongue like a blob of cotton. “What’s he talking about, Akil?” She wanted, no, desperately needed to hear a heated denial. Any minute now Akil was going to punch this man for lying. Then they would go home and Akil would explain it all.

  “Akil?” she heard herself saying again.

  But he wasn’t speaking. Actually he looked like he couldn’t speak. He looked from her to T.K. and his eyes gleamed. That’s what she’d always seen in them, a lining of hate, a fierce violence just brimming under the surface.

  Could that violence lead to killing? Did he kill his mother?

  The room felt like it was spinning. Her legs began to buckle and Jax’s strong arms around her waist were the closest thing to reality she could feel. “Tell me what’s going on, Akil.” She’d spoken again, a repeat of the question she’d been asking him all evening. “Tell me.”

  “I’ll tell you,” T.K. offered. “Betty was a junkie, strung out on that crack and heroin, whatever she could get her hands on. Everybody knew it and nobody cared. Especially not her do-gooder son, the one with his head always stuck in a book. So when she got some bad dope and lay in an alley dying, he looked down on her and left her there. Just walked away and let her die. Ain’t that right, Akil?”

  Charlene felt like she was choking. Her chest pounded, words died in her throat and she gasped for air. Akil was at her side quickly.

  “Baby, just let Jax take you home. I’ll explain it all when I get there. Just go home, baby. Please.”

  His voice was deep, flushed with anger as he whispered in her ear.

  “No,” she responded weakly. “Tell me now. Tell me right now! Did you do this?”

  “Yeah, tell her right now, Akil. Tell her how I stood in that alley with you, watched you leave Betty to die in her own urine and filth. Tell her how when you got to the end of the alley you broke out into a run, leaving me behind.” T.K. sat down. “Tell her.” He laughed.

  Jax hit him then, watched as he fell right off the chair onto the floor. T.K. got up, wiping the blood from his nose. “Now I’m gonna have to sue. Pity.” He grabbed a napkin from the table. “You know where to find me, Akil. She was phase two. Don’t make me go to the next phase. I promise you’ll like it even less.”

  Akil was still pressed to Charlene’s side, his forehead resting on the side of her head as he continued to whisper in her ear. “Baby girl, please. Let’s go home so we can talk. Please, baby. Let’s just go home.”

  Where the strength came from Charlene had no idea but she pulled away from him, stumbling a bit then righting herself. “No. I asked you for the truth, give it to me now.”

  “Charlene, we’re not alone.”

  “No, we’re not!” she yelled. “But I want to know right now what you’ve done. How could you do something like that? Who are you, Akil? Who are you?”

  He straightened at that. His dark eyes going cold.

  “I’ll have Jax take you home,” he said and walked away.

  “Akil!” she yelled but he kept on walking. “Akil!” Her voice would grow hoarse, singing tomorrow would simply be out of the question, but she didn’t give a damn. Everything she thought she knew, thought she felt, was a lie. He was a lie.

  Chapter 19

  There had been no sleeping, yet she crawled out of the bed in the room where she’d originally slept that first night in Akil’s house. She showered and slipped on jeans and a T-shirt. She had one goal, one person she needed to see.

  He would be in the studio, she knew that without a doubt and walked straight there. After letting herself in she didn’t even go through polite formalities.

  “You owe me the truth,” she said, sitting in the chair across from the control board where he sat.

  He wore jeans, too, and a wrinkled T-shirt, a sign that his night had been just as rough as hers.

  “I owe you,” he said with a smirk. “I owe everybody, huh?” He was shaking his head.

  “I asked you for the truth long before your little friend entered the picture. You should have just given it to me then.”

  “Should I have?” he asked. “Why? Because you wanted me to? Because you asked me to? Let me ask you something, Charlene, do you get everything you ask for?”

  She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand to stop her.

  “Wait. Yes, you did. Whatever you wanted growing up you got. You didn’t have to ask for shoes that had a new sole on them because you were tired of your toes sticking out in the winter. You didn’t have to ask for a couple of dollars to go to the market to get milk and cereal because you and your sister had nothing else to eat. You didn’t have to compete with a crack pipe or a needle full of heroin to get your mother’s attention. So I guess when you ask me something I should bend over backwards to give it to you.”

  His words stung. The vehemence in his voice brushed coarsely over her skin. But she would not take the blame for this or anything else that had happened to him. “You can try to shift gears all you want but I gave you respect. From the first day I met you, Akil, I respected you. Even when you acted like an ass I still respected you enough to tell you. So yes, when I ask you a question—no, correction—when I ask the man I’m sleeping with a question, I expect an answer.”

  He sat quietly for a moment, his hands folded. He looked like he was thinking, possibly about a song or an arrangement. From first glance you couldn’t tell the emotional battle going on inside him. But Charlene felt it, felt the deep-seated fury just itching to break free, and was afraid of what he would say next.

  “What T.K. said was right. My mother was a junkie. She’d taken her first hit of cocaine straight from my father one night after he’d played at some nightclub and she’d sung. They were so excited when they came into the house late that night. I knew where they’d been so I stayed up to hear how it went. I heard their laughter and crept out of my bed into the living room. That’s where I saw him dig into his pocket and pull out the little packet. He made two straight white lines on the coffee table, which was full of so much dust it was a wonder they didn’t snort all that up, too.

  “Every day after that she was high on something. Coke, crack, heroin, whatever she could get her hands on that could take her to the place she wanted to be. When my old man was killed I thought she’d finally have a chance to get clean, but she didn’t, she just found another pusher who would keep her appropriately sexed, pregnant and of course high.”

  “Akil,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “No. You wanted an answer, now you take it! I owe it to you, remember?”

  She remained quiet, tears already burning her eyes.

  “Lauren was thirteen. She needed her mother. She needed some guidance. I’d been working at this record store while I was volunteering at Empire so I was paying the bills in the house and making sure Lauren got up and went to school. While Betty was just doing her thing. I don’t know where she got money to get high, probably stealing or selling herself. But I’d long since stopped putting money in her hand. I couldn’t stop her from shooting up or snorting, but I didn’t have to pay for it, either. She had a key to the house and a bed to sleep in every night. That was all I could do for her.

  “One day the school called me, said Lauren hadn’t shown up that day. I knew I’d gotten her out of the bed that morning and watched her go to the bus stop. So I left work, drove around the neighborhood looking for her, asking if anybody had seen her. Somebody said they saw her and Betty late that morning. I didn’t like the sound of that so I started looking around at Betty’s hangouts. I don’t really remember how I ended up on Oliver Street or why I started walking down that alley. It was dirty, full of trash and old needles, broken bottles, just a mess. But I kept righ
t on walking down that alley. It was getting dark by then and I was going to leave but I heard something coming from behind a couple of the trashcans. I walked farther and there she was.”

  He dragged his hands down his face, rubbed his eyes.

  “She was only skin and bones by then but I recognized her from her hair, it was matted but it was long, dark. Then she opened her eyes, brown eyes that used to have these tiny flecks of gold in them. I remember when she smiled they kind of sparkled.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “She was so high she couldn’t even stand up. I tried to help her up twice, asking where Lauren was.

  “‘You’re so much better than me, Akil. You always have been.’ That’s what she said. I ignored her, didn’t want to hear anything unless it was about Lauren. We walked a couple feet before I finally picked her up and was carrying her. She pulled on my shirt and tried to yell but her voice was just about gone. ‘Save my baby,’ she whispered. ‘He’s got her and you need to give him this to save her.’”

  Charlene stood then, walked over to the control board and took his hands. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

  He shook his head and pulled his hands from her grasp. “She gave me three hundred dollars. Told me I only had an hour left to get to her, to save her. To save my thirteen-year-old sister from the drug dealer she’d sold her to for a hit.”

  Tears poured from Charlene’s eyes and she wanted to reach for him again but his entire body had gone rigid.

  “I put her down because she’d started yelling that she was in pain. ‘Be better than me, Akil. Save my baby.’ That’s what she kept whispering while she rolled into the fetal position, pain from the bad drugs she’d been sold eating away her insides. Be better than me. She told me that. And I thought I was. So I went straight to the police station, told the desk sergeant everything Betty had told me. They packed me up and put me in the cruiser. We went to the house where the dealer was holding Lauren. They sent me in. I paid him and he pushed my sister out the door. Her clothes were ripped, her face streaked with tears. I carried her out, fighting back the need to find me a piece and kill that son of a bitch. The minute I got outside the police raided the house. Everyone inside was arrested.”