They’d all fallen in love with the child, as had he. Baby M seemed to know when he was around, and was especially impressed with his singing. The infant cooed at the sound of his melodious notes. He gestured for her return and Nurse Jennifer smiled as he accepted the baby again and cradled her in his arms.
Temple turned her head to watch him, but was just in time to see the nurse and the social worker gave her a lingering look as they filed out of the room.
“If you will do one favor for me,” Jai said.
Temple focused a steely gaze on him.
“Would you at least provide milk for the first few weeks?”
Temple blanched and was almost as pale as the pillow behind her.
Jai instantly regretted the question, but pressed on. “She already has so much going against her and she’ll need the best start in life.”
Temple averted her gaze but a micro-expression conveying her confusion crossed her face. A second later, she schooled her features into something bland and unreadable. “It’s supposed to do a body good, right?”
“Well, I’m about to be a single dad,” Jai answered, trying not to smile at her joke. “And we’ll both need all the help we can get. Thankfully, a pump would work and I’ll be sure to pick up the milk every day.”
The low hum of the nightly news echoed in the background. Reports of yet another teen missing from the South side of Chicago.
“This should never have happened,” she whispered.
“You’re right,” Jai conceded. “And we’re going to find out who did this to you. They will be brought to justice.”
“You’re so sure of that?” she asked, her gaze firmly on the baby. “The justice part?”
“DNA will pinpoint that monster and the police will have no choice.”
She watched a moment as he murmured comforting words to the baby. Then a frown crumpled her face. “How could you take on a child that …”
“Because she’s beautiful and vulnerable,” he replied, caressing the baby’s cheek with one finger. “Putting her in the system would be cruel. Especially when I have the time and means to care for her.”
Temple’s expression went dark as she narrowed a glare at him. “So, you’re one of those pro-life nuts?”
“Not at all. Very much pro-choice,” he replied, lowering himself to the leather chair next to the bed. “Means I care about the woman’s choice and about the woman who decides to bring a child to birth and beyond. I provide careers for men who are looking to have a second chance at life. One of the first things each one of them did was start shelling out money for child support.”
“You’re proud of that?”
Looking sideways at her, Jai said, “Speaks to their character.”
Eyes narrowed, Temple asked, “You don’t think one of them did this to me?”
He glanced at the baby before answering. “Would it be painful for you to hear me say ‘no’?”
“No, you seem like the loyal type and you might be right.” Temple stared across the small room, then continued. “Since I’ve been here, I get flashes of things. The scent of whoever it was. I would know that smell. Maybe even the clammy feel of his skin. The sound of his voice.” She sat up straight in the bed. “Can you bring them here?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, since they’re the center of the investigation.” After giving Baby M another smile and thinking a little bit, Temple added, “You’re right. But since I can identify his smell, maybe you can bring a piece of clothing or something.”
Nodding slowly, Jai admitted, “That might work.”
“I think I might … I don’t know. I just want to do something besides lying here being taken care of by everyone.” Temple’s expression and voice turned sour. “Except my mother. She only comes to demand that I stall on giving the police permission to do any DNA testing and to insist that I marry quickly, so that a man I have no affection for can take care of me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jai said, uncomfortable with the sense of alarm spreading inside him. “This situation happened on my turf. Everything related to you and her is my responsibility.”
Temple craned her neck to steal another peek at the baby. Then as though remembering she shouldn’t do even that, she abruptly turned away.
Getting to his feet, Jai announced, “I’ll take her to the nursery since her presence disturbs you so much.”
Jai made it to the threshold when she said, “The nurses are looking at me like I’m some kind of monster.”
Yes, he had seen the reaction from one in particular. “I’ll speak with them.” Again.
“No, don’t bother,” she said in a resigned tone. “They’re right I should feel . . . something.”
Jai turned back into the room, claimed a seat on the chair next to her bed. “Temple, most women have months to come to terms with changes that happen to their bodies and to bond with their child. Months. You had thirty minutes—and that’s a stretch. Then had to come to terms with the fact that you were in the middle of a full-on delivery of a child you knew nothing about, and a violation that was of the most horrific kind.” He searched her eyes for a moment, hoping his words were getting through. “Trying to distance yourself from a child who feels foreign to you is understandable. So, give yourself some credit. Right now, I’ll just have to provide enough love for both of us.” He looked down at the baby. “Isn’t that right, India?”
Temple perked up, tried to get a look at the baby yet again. “You’re naming her India?”
“Did you have something else in mind?” Jai raised both eyebrows. “I’m a little weary of everyone calling her Baby M.”
“But … but why India?”
“I named her for the country in which my parents were born,” he said, locking hiseyes on hers. “The place has a history of overcoming the British invasion and rule but still has shadows of pain from their presence on our land. So many died for their greed and the need for them to conquer for financial gain. We survived when Gandhi made the mistake of partnering to give away our land to Muslims in an area now called Pakistan. He was beloved by a lot of people around the world for his efforts to bring peace, but he has been hated by many Indians for that action alone.” He stroked a hand across the downy silk of India’s hair. “Though parts of the country are still ravaged by poverty and there is still an issue with an underlying caste system, India is still one of the most beautiful places I know.”
“But all countries have a flawed foundation,” Temple said, folding her arms across her ample bosom. “America, Africa, China, England.”
“And Canada,” he added. “But they don’t have quite the same ring.”
Temple’s lips twitched before settling into a smile. “I like India. India … Maharaj?”
“Good to hear.” He stood, rocking the baby a little as he sang to her.
Temple closed her eyes, and settled into the bed, listening to the words of Just Ordinary People, a gospel song that Khalil had given Jai in high school. He still had the Walkman and the cassette.
When the last words, little becomes much when you place it in the Master’s hand echoed in the room, Temple’s eyes flew open and locked on his. India definitely enjoyed his singing. Evidently, so did her mother.
Jai thought it was high time to have Temple out from under the doctors, who were bringing in specialist after specialist trying to figure out what factors contributed to Temple being in such a healthy state. They couldn’t believe nothing was seriously wrong with her after being in a coma for a year. Seemed they were inventing reasons for her to remain in the hospital’s care.
He was certain she had tired of all the poking and prodding—their attempt to find something contrary that they could lay at his feet.
“Let me go see a doctor about getting you up out of this camp.”
CHAPTER 11
Hiram, along with his fellow co-workers from Chetan—Ryan, Chuck, Andre, Michael, Falcon, Jared, Chris, and even DeMarco stood in a cluster inside an i
mpressive meeting space. They had been awed by the opulence of The Castle even before they entered. Now, they faced a circular boardroom table seating another group of equally impressive men who might be strangers to his co-workers, but Hiram remembered when Jai had asked him to look up the names on his first journey to the Castle when Khalil had been shot.
If he remembered correctly the men at the table were named Dro Reyes, the “Fixer” who was of Mexican descent as evidence by the olive skin and dark hair; Vikkas Germaine, Khalil’s son, and international lawyer; Shaz Bostwick, with signature locs that nearly touched his waist, was a family and immigration lawyer whose family was from Jamaica; Grant Khambrel, a commercial architect for Houston who also had dark hair and brooding eyes; Reno Deluca, founder and director of a women’s shelter and came from an Italian family in Chatham; Dwayne Harper, owner of a private college prep school with a haircut that was as chiseled as his medium brown features; Daron Kincaid, an inventor and security specialist whose family came from the Philippines; and Kaleb Valentine with light brown skin, slightly wavy hair, a commercial and residential real estate developer. None of them had anything in common with Hiram or the men standing next to him. Why were they here?
Several weeks ago, Jai had called Hiram into the office and asked him to create the special tattoos for all the Kings at the table. This took place under the direction of Daron Kincaid, who seemed most familiar today, even without his trademark hat. Hiram wasn’t sure what the silver markings the man added toward the end signified, but now he was beginning to wonder exactly how far this whole Castle thing went, and what more would be required of him and the men who were walking into this situation blind.
Jai stood, beckoning them to come forward. The woman who guided them through the maze leading to an inner chamber of The Castle, disappeared as quickly as she had shown up when they first arrived at the golden doors of the front entrance.
“Man, this is some medieval kind of bull—”
Hiram nudged Ryan into silence. The two sets of men assessed each other—professionals in designer suits versus uniform scrubs and tees— but it was Hiram, the designated spokesperson for his co-workers, who stepped forward and said, “You wanted us here. So, what’s the deal with all this cloak and dagger stuff?”
“Yes, we’d like to know that as well,” Shaz said, moving his locs off his shoulder so they streamed down his back while tamed with a leather band.
Jaidev scanned the men at the table and said, “Khalil made a grave error in not having men already lined up, or a succession plan. I am asking for two things here. One, for each of you to mentor my employees in your specialties. Two, for you to consider that while we are Kings of the Castle, we should have a few Knights as well. Ones that learn from us, grow with us and become Kings in their own right.”
“The difference is,” Reno said, sliding his glass toward the center of the table. “We have a common denominator. Khalil Germaine. They have none.”
“Incorrect,” Jai shot back, his tone causing the rest of the men at the table to snap their focus toward him. “They have me, and they will have us. That’s a lot more than most. And in my estimation, it will be more than enough.”
Grant tapped the file in front of him. Hiram recognized the document on top—the résumé he had submitted to apply for the position at Chetan. Why would they have them?
“Come a little closer,” Grant said. “We don’t bite on Mondays.”
“Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” Dwayne joked, causing the rest of the men at table to glance at him.
The Kings chuckled. The others did not.
“Well, just so you know, we’ll bite back,” Hiram warned, squaring his shoulders so he stood at his full, towering height. His co-workers did the same. “We might not have your degrees, or status, or anything like that, but we ain’t no punks either.”
“What are you riding?” Kaleb threw out, narrowing a piercing gaze at Falcon who stiffened at hearing such a loaded question.
“What are we riding? Jaidev Maharaj’s program all the way to success,” Michael shot back, his dark brown gaze narrowed on Kaleb. “But if you mean if we have—”
“Had,” Hiram corrected, keeping his eyes on Kaleb.
“Had any affiliations,” Michael continued. “Then we’re sorry to disappoint. Maybe a few of us did at one time, but we put that life—and a whole lot of things—behind us when we stepped into Chetan. That’s the life we’re about now.”
Hiram moved forward so he was closer to Kaleb and tilted one eyebrow. “Maybe the better question should be, what are you riding? The person throwing it out there, had to bring that from someplace.”
Shaz gave a low whistle and a few others at the table shared a speaking glance, along with smirks that said plenty. Hiram had hit the mark—spot on.
“Former Sovereign King, heavy emphasis on former,” Kaleb offered, seeming a little taken aback at having to admit it.
Hiram’s low throaty chuckled echoed in the boardroom. “Yes, you did seem to have that … edge. Success can’t always hide our pasts, but we can refuse to let it—or anyone—define us by it.”
Vikkas applauded, soon followed by other men at the table, even Kaleb. “And therein lies the truth,” he said. “But I’m not too cool with having them given that name in relation to the Castle. They have to earn it out, first.”
“Why,” Jai shot back. “Khalil didn’t call us students, he called us scholars until we became exactly that.”
“That’s truth,” Grant said. “Everything is in the name that you embrace. We did when we became Kings.”
Reno chimed in, “We’re here to make sure they live up to that name. And that means they’ll be given the same, or better opportunities than we had.”
“I’m still going to need to check out their background a little further,” Daron said. “You’re asking us to trust them with a lot for all we don’t know about them.”
Hiram’s shoulder pulled back. “And I don’t have a problem with that. Do whatever it is you have to do. Jai called us Knights, and that’s exactly what we’ll be, whether you sign on for it or not. We know him. We don’t know you.”
Silence met that declaration, but Hiram and not a single one of his fellow Knights had any signs of backing down. They would own their process and no one would take it from them.
“So how is this going to work?” Dwayne asked Jai.
“I’ll let each Knight speak to what their interests are, then we can pair off that way,” Jai said, placing a hand on Hiram’s shoulder. “But I’d like all of them to be assessed by Dwayne, so he can help craft a higher education plan, and recommend any seminars, workshops, or studies that will put them on the fast-track to their ultimate goals. Same way that Khalil did for us.”
“But we had three years of intense study,” Dwayne protested, his focus on Jai. “It was nothing like the traditional structured education.”
“And they’ve had years of an intense life that meant doing whatever was necessary to survive. That’s an education within itself. They’ve been through some things neither of us could fathom,” Jai said, then leaned toward Dwayne. “And from what you already know, you’ll make sure that their education isn’t on a boring path,” Jai teased with a comedic lift of his eyebrows. “Unless your reputation as one of the top educators in Chicago isn’t well-earned.”
“You’re full of it, you know that?” Dwayne said and both the Kings and Knights laughed along with him.
“This is an ambitious undertaking for all of us,” Jai continued, pacing the small area in front of the projection screen. “But we have to understand Khalil’s aim. That we work together to do our part to counteract the inhumane issues going on in this world. It takes money, power, but most of all, it takes purpose and passion.” Jai scanned the faces of everyone in the room. “Every single man here today has most of this in some form or fashion. Any one of you who needs to be bolstered in any area, only has to tap into your fellow Kings or Knights to get what you ne
ed.”
“You said, that in a year’s time we would all be on the same page.” Hiram scanned the anxious and concerned expressions of his co-workers that mirrored what he felt at the moment. “This whole thing seems like an entirely different book. I can get that dude is going to bring us up to speed on an educational level. Much appreciated, by the way.” Dwayne gave him a head nod in reply. “But these dudes are rolling with the kind of bank accounts we’ve never seen.”
Jai’s shoulders drooped as though he realized his plan might be admirable, but maybe the Knights weren’t up to such a monumental task.
“Each one of us started like you,” Shaz said.
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