King of Devon
Page 8
Grant offered, “With the exception of Vikkas and Jaidev—”
“Wrong,” Jai shot back, his face tightening with anger. “My father disowned me the minute I accepted that invitation to attend Macro. He wanted me to have nothing to do with Khalil Germaine. He had like … this insane jealousy when it came to him.” Jai allowed a few moments for that tidbit of info to settle in. “My mother encouraged me to follow my heart, then to move on to my dreams of being a healer. None of which my father approved. He wanted a lawyer, international merchant, or politician. Someone with real influence that he could brag about. He even said, I could at least become a ‘real doctor’ as if what I do is not important. So, if you’ve thought I’ve been …” He flicked a gaze at Hiram, then back to the Kings. “Big balling all this time, you’re sadly mistaken. I had to start with only that stipend Khalil gave us upon graduation.”
The silence beyond that statement was telling.
“What stipend?” Vikkas asked, narrowing his gaze on Jai which caused a chill to fall over the room.
CHAPTER 12
Temple walked into her condo and froze after a few steps over the threshold. That overpowering scent hit her first and she had to brace herself so she didn’t lose her last meal.
She scanned her condo and only recognized one thing—an expensive portrait abstract blend by her father. Everything else—the furniture, the walls, the décor was something more suited to a bachelor who was pretending at that “rich and famous” lifestyle, but only had a Ramen noodles budget.
None of these selections would have been his choice. Everything had Sharon Liscell’s name written all over it.
“What happened to my place?”
“Your place?” Sharon repeated, and the sarcasm in her tone was enough to send a chill up Temple’s spine. “Remember when I said you would need us before we would need you?” She leaned in so she was a whisper away from Temple. “This is one of those times.”
“I control all aspects of your life,” Curtis said over the rim of a jewel-studded goblet from where he sat across the room. “And it made sense to put my name on the paperwork in order to maintain everything properly.”
“You mean, in order to live here at no cost to you.” Temple let that hang for a moment but his expression remained blank.
“Well, I was seeing to your personal business and all.” His smirk that accompanied that statement infuriated Temple as he crossed his ankles on the edge of the dining table. “Living here was ample compensation.”
Sharon sauntered into the dining room and parked on the chair. “And he will continue to take care of you when you marry him and you’re done with all of the nonsense.”
“Take care of me,” Temple scoffed. “The only person Curtis cares about is himself. No wonder you all get along so well.” She peered at them, taking in the rigid set of her mother’s shoulders. “Why are you all rushing to get me to the altar? Hell, I just came out of a coma and found that not only was I violated, but I have lifetime evidence of what happened. Can I at least catch a break around this camp before folks try to put me in that emotional coma called holy matrimony?”
Sharon crossed into the dining area and closed the distance between them. “Well, I’m sure Curtis will give you a couple of days while you sort yourself out.” She gave a dramatic flourish of her hand as she placed a Virginia Slim between her lips and Curtis rushed to light it for her. “Then, you’ll need to make a choice. Either marry him to stay here, or …”
Temple scanned the hodge-podge décor surrounding them. “I’d leave first.”
“And where will you go?” Sharon taunted, taking a pull from the cigarette. “He has control over your accounts, this place, and everything related to you. Right now, you can’t access anything without his permission.” The smoke curled around her like a halo of evil. “We went in yesterday and had the court reaffirm his control over your personal endeavors until it is determined that your mental acuity is intact. You know, seeing that you can’t be in the right state of mind after being in a coma for so long.”
“So, you bribed a judge to do as you wanted,” Temple said. All the years of her mother tipping on the edge of polite society, the Black Nouveau Riche, had paid off. She had found a way to make herself invaluable to lawyers, judges, businessmen, and philanthropists alike. So many people had been into Sharon Liscell for “favors” that she never went without anything she needed. Until she married Carl Webster, thinking that she’d hit pay dirt, without realizing he would never see the “pay” part of the equation, and all she had was someone who was lower than dirt.
Unfortunately, their many benefactors’ generosity did not filter down to Temple. Beside Donny and Ebbie, various teachers and parents of her friends had been Temple’s guardian angels growing up. If anyone had been the wiser, they would have thought Temple Devaughn was adopted. They would be wrong. Temple was simply unwanted and unloved, but she held some value that her mother never quite made clear. Now Temple was of the mind to find out what her mother had been hiding all these years.
“It’s all right,” Temple said, resigned to the fact that she would face a few unnecessary challenges with her mother and Curtis—now at the helm—and working in tandem. “The first chance I get I’m going to reach out to my father and figure out exactly what happened. I’m still wondering how a man who painted the most beautiful artwork in the world, could have left me with someone with such an ugly soul?”
Sharon almost dropped her cigarette. “He didn’t want us—”
“He didn’t want you,” Temple shot back as her mother swiped at the ashes that had fallen on her suede skirt. “And I think I became a casualty of whatever mess you made.” She scanned all the rooms within her view, saw that some of the designer items were well out of his financial reach, even in his prime as a top stock broker. And her own accounts couldn’t have afforded this kind of living. “Better yet, I’m going to get a judge involved so I can lay eyes on those Trust documents you never wanted me to see.”
Curtis bristled with anger at the same point that her mother’s expression went blank and he put his feet on the floor.
“Problem?”
“No, not at all,” Sharon purred. “We’ll send them wherever it is you’re staying.”
“Well, I’m staying here,” Temple said, claiming a seat on a chaise with the most hideous design. “I don’t care what fancy paperwork he put in. This is still my place and evidently my money helps to pay for it and this new lifestyle.”
“That’s not exactly how it works,” Curtis said, and there was a bit of censure in his tone. “You don’t want to have anything to do with me? Fine by me, sister,” he taunted, using the words spoken by Sophia’s character from The Color Purple. “But you can’t stay here until you have a lawyer to file for it. This is my place now.”
“And you expected me to do what? Agree to be with you after pulling a stunt like this,” she asked, shifting her gaze to Sharon whose scowl marred her pretty features. “I didn’t see it at first, but he has a cold streak that matches yours to a ‘T’. I’m happy that your actions have provided more clarity than I ever needed.”
Temple turned her attention to her father’s artwork. Closer scrutiny showed a portrait of baby Temple inside the image of a sun emerging from the moon’s shadow. She went to the kitchen before Curtis could block her path, snatched up a knife then ran directly to the painting and liberated it from the wall.
“You can’t take that,” Curtis said, getting to his feet.
“Watch me,” she shot back. “This is the only thing I have from my father. It took me forever to find it. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll leave it behind for you two to profit from it.”
“Don’t worry,” Sharon said around a ring of smoke. “It’s not worth anything.”
She wouldn’t bother to disabuse them of that notion. Anything from the great Elvin Drescher could fetch thousands on the open market. But that meant nothing to Temple at the moment. Somehow that pai
nting represented more now that she had given birth to her own child. This painting was a message. The fact that it was the sole item of hers left in this place she once called home was telling. The only thing of value she left behind in Virginia was her brother and sister and the only thing here worth anything was the painting her father had done. Many lithographs existed, but this original, she had scoured every imaginable place until she found it and used every penny she had at the time, to purchase it.
“The fact that my father wanted me to know that his sun revolved around me, means everything and more.” She looked at Sharon whose lips were pursed in mild disapproval. “Evidently, I’ve been sleeping on a lot of things. If you were so willing to lie about my father, if you were so willing to sacrifice me to Uncle Dane to get your hands on the money my father left me, no telling what else you’ve been lying about all these years.”
Temple didn’t wait for a response as she grabbed up the small suitcase Jaidev had brought for her, struggled to anchor the huge painting under her arm, and left them without a backward glance.
CHAPTER 13
Jai grimaced, seemingly taken aback by his tone. “Well, I thought
Daron and Kaleb simply stared at him. Dwayne, Dro, Grant, Reno, and Shaz slowly raised their hands, admitting they had received one as well.
“And I don’t get why you of all people would need it,” Vikkas said to Reno. “You came from money.”
“Came from it, doesn’t mean it landed in my hands,” Reno countered, and Hiram noticed him fingering the tattoo on his wrists. “Especially when I went into architecture and then opened the shelter. My father and I didn’t quite see eye to eye on where my life was going. Khalil filled that void for me as well.”
“Dro?” Vikkas snapped.
“I still have it,” he confessed, waving it off as a non-issue. “Gaining interest in an account that I haven’t touched since high school. Should be a nice little chunk of change.”
Dwayne pulled his shoulders back. “I used mine to pay for my education, and for my sister’s,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I dip into it when my students’ families need help. But there’s still a great deal of it left. Khalil didn’t give us chump change.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“Why do you seem so upset about this?” Grant asked Vikkas who bore a strong resemblance to Jai—olive skin, tall stature, dark hair, except Jai’s had a silver streak at the widow’s peak. “It was his money to do with as he pleased.”
“My father tells me everything,”
“Well, not everything,” Daron said over the rim of his glass, his short-cropped hair bore a reddish-brown tint. “And I think I didn’t get one, and Kaleb either. We didn’t graduate from Macro.”
“Jai, how about this,” Dro said, running a hand through his dark hair. “That money I have sitting around, why don’t we divide it nine ways, and have it become the starting funds for the Knights. If you’re vouching for them, that’s good enough for me.”
“You mean, once they complete their education points,” Dwayne chimed in.
“They’ll need some of it now,” Jai insisted, shooting a glance at his brother. “With the investigation going on right now, I’m still paying their salaries. That extra could be a cushion to move out of the places where they now reside and into more suitable arrangements. Once they hit a certain level of success, they’ll become targets.” He glanced at Hiram. “Church?”
“Most definitely,” Hiram said, grinning at Jai’s use of his favorite word which meant that whatever had been said was considered “facts” or “truth”. “Good looking out.”
“So, why bring them here?” Kaleb asked, and Grant gave him a warning look. “We could’ve met them in Starbucks somewhere.”
Jai tilted his head, glaring at Kaleb in a silent move that said, are you for real right now? Instead, he answered, “Because I need them to see the finish line.”
“The Castle?” Reno asked, his focus on Jai who shook his head.
“No, you.” Jai walked around the table, placing a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Every one of the Kings. We all come from diverse backgrounds, and some of you from very humble beginnings. They need to see this …” he gestured, meaning them, the place and everything involved. “That they, too, can be on this side of life. Not just living paycheck to paycheck.” He looked at Hiram and smiled. “That they deserve to do what it takes to be sitting around this kind of table, discussing solutions to issues that affect their communities and ours.” Jai moved forward until he was standing behind the chair meant for him. “It can’t be only the nine of us. It started with Khalil, and he put all of these ideas into us for going beyond what we dreamed possible. Now it’s us, and then …”
“Makes sense,” Dwayne said.
“Spoken by a man who had to be brought into this kicking and screaming,” Vikkas pointed out.
“Because I’m not like any of you,” Dwayne shot back. “I don’t have your wealth, or status, or anything like that. I didn’t feel that I belonged among you. Khalil and my Uncle Bubba made me see things differently. That it isn’t acquiring lots of money that makes you rich, it’s being able to fulfill your dreams, desires, and those of the ones around you who don’t necessarily have the resources or tools to do so.”
Dwayne stood and faced the soon-to-be Knights. “I rebelled against The Castle because I believed it was a guise to get us into Khalil’s religion—the Bahai’s Faith. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Not once did he make being part of his faith anywhere in the deal. He took the best elements of his religion and put them in a secular form—elevating all of us on a spiritual level, but through humane treatment of others, protecting those who cannot protect themselves, seeing how each of us are connected spiritually, no matter what religion or faith we embrace. We can’t be better as a whole, until we work on becoming better, more enlightened individuals.”
Vikkas’ face split into a wide grin, and he held out his fist to Dwayne for a pound. Dwayne obliged and said, “I get it now. I understand our purpose is far beyond money and power, it goes to using what we have to balance out the evil that’s in the world.
“His own little band of superheroes,” Hiram asked, trying not to feel overwhelmed by this overload of information.
“Something like that,” Shaz said, leaving the table at the same time as Daron, Grant, Dro, Kaleb, Dwayne, and Reno who now stood next to Vikkas and Jai. They all faced the younger men in the room.
“And another thing,” Jai said.
“Here we go,” Shaz mumbled and slid back into the nearest chair.
“We’re going to need your help with the investigation we’re conducting under the police radar.”
“You don’t ask favors in small measures, do you?” Shaz shot back.
“They can’t trust the police on this,” Kaleb said with a pointed look at Falcon who nodded.
“Finally, someone besides Jai who gets where we’re coming from,” Michael said as Ryan nodded and added, “Now that’s church.”
“There is another set of chairs in the anteroom attached to this one.” Vikkas gestured behind him. “Pull one in and slide to the table. We’re going to tell you how The Castle came into existence, and then we have major business to handle.”
The Kings moved forward one by one and welcomed each of the Knights into The Castle. Well, all except one.
“Speaking of business,” Hiram said before Grant could extend a hand to him. “Before we go all brotherly love, sunshine and rainbows, and everything … Jai, we need to talk.”
CHAPTER 14
Hiram stood to one side of the boardroom, gesturing for Jai to join him.
“What’s going on?” Jai said, ignoring the directive to move away from the rest of the group. “Is it something we need to speak about in private?”
Hiram’s shoulders pulled back as he answered, “Actually—”
“No.” Reno moved to stand next to Kaleb. “Especially if it’s something that’s going to keep him fr
om becoming one of the … Knights?”
All the Kings nodded at the term.
“Knights,” Reno said. “Everyone here should be about transparency.”
“As I was saying before I was interrupted,” Hiram replied with a pointed look at Reno who shrugged. “There’s something I must tell you.”
“Can it wait until after this meeting?” Jai implored, his face a mask of concern at having his plans derailed—even a little.
“Maybe, but what I’m about to tell you means I might not be able to a part of Chetan or anything else,” Hiram replied, handing Jai an envelope. “You might want to take a look at this before we get into all this brotherly love.”
Jai opened the envelope, scanned the document and his head snapped up at Hiram, his expression pained. “Letter of resignation? Why?”