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Déjà Vu

Page 15

by Suzetta Perkins


  “Maybe I should move out and uncomplicate things.”

  “Don’t try reverse psychology on me, Jefferson. This is not the time. I’ve gone through too much. I’ve sacrificed a lot, and if it wasn’t for Malik, there were days that I might not have made it.”

  Margo stopped and looked straight at Jefferson, who was staring back. What she was trying to conceal—any connection to Malik—had spewed out in less than two minutes.

  “So it is Malik.” Jefferson moved his eyes away from Margo’s. For the first time in a long time, tears formed in his eyes. He balled his hands into a fist and then released them and reached for his walker.

  “Baby, Jefferson, I love you,” Margo pleaded. “Nothing has happened between Malik and me. We’ve been so close, and…well, we couldn’t help feeling some connection. But that’s all it is…a connection, nothing more.”

  “Have you slept with him, Margo?”

  Margo stepped back at the sound of Jefferson’s voice.

  “No!”

  “Has he touched you?”

  Margo’s eyes darted around, trying to find the right words.

  “No,” was all that came out.

  “Look at me, Margo. Did Malik touch you?”

  “No…yes, he kissed me.” Margo was breathing hard. “And I kissed him back.”

  Jefferson pulled himself up and leaned on the walker. He stood there a minute but didn’t say a word. He picked up his keys and shuffled to the door, opened it, and slammed it behind him.

  Margo raced to the door, her tears falling fast. “Where are you going?” she called out to Jefferson upon opening the door.

  “Don’t worry about it. Right now, I want to be left alone.”

  Margo closed the door and grabbed the sides of her head. She shook her fists at the sky. She went back into the family room, picked up the telephone and dialed. She listened as the phone continued to ring, and after the tenth ring, she slammed the receiver down.

  28

  Jefferson drove blindly out of the subdivision and into heavy traffic. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew it had to be far away from Margo. Anger controlled his brain and his foot as he realized that he was going twenty miles over the speed limit. He could not afford a ticket or any run-in with the law, so he eased off the gas and pounded the steering wheel.

  Passing an Arby’s restaurant made Jefferson realize he was hungry. He moved over to the right lane, turned at the next intersection and doubled back through the parking lot until he was at the drive-through window. At window number one, he paid for his food and advanced to window number two.

  Three feet away, the door to the entrance of the building flew open…and déjà vu. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Linda Montgomery passed in front of him. She was engaged in an animated conversation with another woman. Still slender, she wore white cord jeans and a red polka dot knit shirt that came to the top of her jeans. Her hair was full and curly like she had gotten a perm. She and the other woman walked to a black Mercedes Coupe, got in and left.

  It brought back memories of the night Linda was riding in his Mercedes on Fuller Street—the night her husband had followed them, the night that changed his life forever. Blake Montgomery’s death flashed before him, flooding him with memories of infidelity and why he was now sitting in the drive-through window at Arby’s instead of at home with Margo.

  He had a sudden impulse to follow Linda…to find out where she lived, or perhaps find out what path her life had taken. But as immediate as the thought was, he dismissed it quickly because his heart belonged to the one woman he truly loved, Margo. There were obstacles there, and he needed to deal with them—and he would.

  “Would you like ketchup with your order?” the server asked, handing Jefferson his bag.

  “No thanks. Have a good day.” Jefferson drove off and headed into town.

  Seeing Linda again made Jefferson conscious of the need to insure that his family remained a unit. Mistakes were made, and he had made plenty of them, but now that he was home and trying to put his life together, no one was going to disrupt it—even if they were brothers.

  Jefferson made a series of right and left turns and drove down a long street, passing in front of SuperComp Technical Solutions. He circled the block and found a park down the street from Malik’s business. Mindless of the slight incline, Jefferson maneuvered the walker until he was in front of the building. This was a mission he was not about to abort.

  There was little activity when Jefferson entered the building. A customer lingered, leisurely browsing at the selected display of computers and peripherals. A sign hung from the ceiling that called attention to the latest technology in operating systems, VISTA.

  The customer looked up as Jefferson ambled forward and then went back to browsing. Forging ahead, Jefferson stopped when he saw the backside of Malik, who was gathering brochures. This was his best friend, the person he trusted. Never in a million years would he have thought that Malik would make a move on Margo—that he’d have the audacity to do so. Not Malik the advisor, the scolder, the one who tried to make him see reason when he was stepping out on Margo.

  All thoughts aside, Jefferson approached Malik, who turned around with surprise written on his face. There was a kind of fear in Malik’s eyes as he looked at him and, without asking a question, Jefferson knew that the fear was riddled with guilt.

  “We need to talk,” Jefferson said. He looked straight at Malik without batting a lash.

  “Jefferson, it’s good to see you. I’m with a customer right now…maybe we can talk later.”

  “I’ll wait until you’re finished. I’m sure I need to upgrade my system.”

  Malik nodded and continued to pull brochures while watching Jefferson at the same time. Jefferson shuffled around the store, pretending to be interested in other things. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, and it appeared Malik was in no hurry to scoot his client along. Tired of standing, Jefferson found an empty chair near the back of the store and plopped into it.

  SuperComp had become a thriving business. When Myles and Associates was still in business, Malik had set Jefferson up with some of the best accounting and bookkeeping software that money could buy. Bored with sitting, Jefferson stood up and walked over to Malik’s work area. Jefferson could feel Malik’s eyes on his back. It felt like daggers trying to tear through the arteries in his heart because Jefferson’s heart was hurting. Wild ideas passed through his mind. Where were Malik and Margo when they kissed? Were they standing next to his desk or at the front of the store as she said goodbye?

  Nervous hands began to sift through papers and files on Malik’s desk. Jefferson had crossed the line, but he wanted answers—any kind of answers that would give him an excuse to put Malik out of his misery. Fingers lifted the edge of a greeting card that sat under some papers. A picture of a beautiful bouquet of roses adorned the front, and when Jefferson opened the card, only the author’s words stared back…the card was unsigned.

  Before Jefferson had a chance to read the card, a heavy hand sat on top of his and closed it.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Malik asked, removing Jefferson’s hand from his desk.

  “Sounds like you’ve got something to hide, bro,” Jefferson responded while staring straight at Malik without flinching.

  “I’ll talk with you in a second—as soon as I’m finished with this customer.”

  Jefferson rose and looked back at the card that sat on the desk. Instinct told him to grab it and keep walking, but that would defeat the purpose of his coming in the first place. Instead, he walked among the rows of ink cartridges, jump drives, wireless adaptors and cables that lined shelves or hung from them. He looked up when he heard the bell ring at the front door and Malik walking toward him. Jefferson leaned on his walker, bracing for the confrontation that was about to happen.

  “So, what is it you want?” Malik asked. “Apparently, you aren’t here to purchase a computer since you were snooping in my things.”

>   “Malik, you and I go way back. We’ve been friends for a long time. I counted you among the top five of my most devoted and loyal friends. However, I’ve noticed a difference in you since I’ve been home. I don’t know what it is…a kind of disconnect when it comes to me, and I don’t know where it’s coming from. No, I don’t know where this attitude of yours originated, but my intuition tells me it has something to do with my wife.

  “I want you to know, Malik, that I didn’t sit in that prison day in and day out without feeling remorse for the things I did to Margo. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved and will ever love, and I prayed to God that when I got out, I would right my wrongs…that I would do everything in my power to see that my family recovers from this awful event in our lives that I created.”

  “What makes you think that Margo wants the same thing?”

  “Oh. Is that what she told you when you had your arms wrapped around her, kissing her and telling her you could do things for her that I couldn’t do? Huh, you sorry ass hypocrite?”

  “Don’t come in here accusing me of things because you’re a no-good son of a bitch.”

  “Margo told me herself, this very afternoon that you kissed her and she kissed you back. I’ve come to serve you notice, lover boy. Stay away from my wife. You got it? MY wife! Margo is my wife, and don’t you ever forget it. I have no intention of going back to prison, but put your hands on my wife again…”

  “Is that a threat, Jefferson?”

  “Call it what you want, Malik, but you’ve heard what I said.” Jefferson gritted his teeth and went eyeball to eyeball with Malik. “Don’t you ever forget what I said.”

  Jefferson pushed past Malik and walked out the door. Malik grabbed one of the hangers that held the ink cartridges to the board, yanked it, and knocked cartridges to the floor.

  “You don’t deserve Margo!” Malik shouted at the closed door. “And I’m not scared of you, Jefferson. I will have Margo.” But there was no one in the room to hear those words.

  29

  Ari cracked open the door and found Angelica tucked deep beneath the warm comforter. There was little movement, save for her breathing, which was marked by little shifts of her body as she inhaled and exhaled. Ari smiled. He knew he wanted more of her.

  He closed the door to the room and headed for the porch to retrieve the morning paper. The air was brisk when he stepped onto the porch, but it was what he needed in order to cool the hormones that had been awakened in his body. Ari picked up the paper and noticed a long black car slow when it neared his house and then continue to move forward. Ari shook his head. What could such a person be looking for in my neighborhood? Ari wondered. He dismissed it and went inside.

  After finishing the paper, Ari went to the kitchen and made a piece of dry toast. He washed it down with coffee he had brewed earlier that morning and then went to check on Angelica again. She was still asleep.

  The sight of her, the touch of her, excited him. Ari wanted to lay with her and make love to her again, experimenting and exploring every inch of her body. He was smitten hard, and he felt like an alcoholic who needed his bottle or the junkie who needed his fix now! No, he couldn’t wait to make love to her. He couldn’t wait to kiss her tender lips. He couldn’t wait to unleash the animal he was when one of the seven deadly sins lay in front of him. Men had fought and lost wars over the scent of a woman and what lay between her legs.

  He paced throughout the house, finally venturing into the living room. The paper he was reading was in disarray, and he picked it up and folded it. Ari went to the window and peered out. He was getting antsy because he was not used to being cooped up in his own house during the day. Waiting on the people at the high rise gave him a high as well as the opportunity to see many celebrities, oftentimes being extended an invitation to one of the fabulous parties they gave. He stopped and stared. A car that looked like the one that had passed the house earlier passed again, this time slowing down almost to a crawl.

  Could it be Donna’s killer? Nerves replaced the feelings that had him riding on a cloud for the past few hours. Ari had to wake Angelica because something strange was going on, and he wasn’t able to comprehend what he felt.

  Before Ari had a chance to move from his trance-like state, Angelica appeared in the room. She was all smiles. For a brief moment, Ari forgot about the car that seemed to be circling his house and smiled back at Angelica. Pink cotton pajamas covered her body and, with her hand on her hip, Angelica waltzed over to Ari, put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply in the mouth. Flushed, he responded to her call, and within minutes they were having a re-enactment of their earlier performance, adding a little flavoring along the way. They were too far gone in their lovemaking to respond to the knock on the door.

  Arms slumped over the side of the bed, Ari cocked his head. “Did you hear that?” he asked Angelica.

  “No,” she slurred under the influence of their lovemaking.

  “There it goes again. Someone’s knocking on the front door. The damned doorbell isn’t broke. I’ll get up and see who it is.”

  “Do you have to?” Angelica begged, her voice just above a whisper. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I don’t want to go,” Ari assured her. “But if I don’t answer this door, whoever is there is going to knock it down. Don’t go anywhere; I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

  “Hurry,” Angelica said, throwing Ari a kiss.

  Ari jumped in his pants and grabbed his shirt, putting it on as he moved to the front of the house. He couldn’t imagine who was determined to see him, especially when everyone knew he was always at work during this time. He peeked out the front window and moved back abruptly. There it was again—the long black car that had been circling the neighborhood for hours.

  Curiosity was getting the best of him, and Ari hurried to the door and opened it. A medium height, medium build, dark-skinned man dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie stood on the porch. Ari looked past the man to the car that sat in front of the house, not sure what to think.

  “How may I help you?” Ari asked.

  “I’m looking for Angelica Barnes,” the man replied.

  Eyebrows arched in suspicion, Ari took another look at the man. “Your name?”

  Looking back at the car and then at Ari, the man stared at him pointedly. “Tell Ms. Barnes that Mr. Robert Santiago would like a word with her, now.”

  Ari stretched his neck like he was working out a kink. “I’ll see if Ms. Barnes is available to come to the door.” And he shut the door, leaving the man on the porch.

  As Ari approached Angelica’s room, she appeared but stopped when she saw the frown on Ari’s face.

  “What is it, Ari? Who’s at the door?”

  “There’s a gentleman standing on the porch who says that a Mr. Robert Santiago wants to speak with you, and he is insistent that it be now.”

  Angelica’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, God no.”

  30

  Angelica rushed back into the room, slid into a pair of jeans and then put on the blouse she had on when the detectives had come to the house. She hated Santiago, but most of all she hated herself for allowing him to manipulate and use her the way he did. Her mind raced back five years when he had attempted to kill her ex-husband, Hamilton, and Jefferson Myles. It was crazy, and she was almost a victim as well. Death might have been a welcome vehicle if she hadn’t wanted to live.

  Frustration was written all over Ari’s face. Angelica couldn’t deal with it at the moment; she had to get rid of Santiago. She was frustrated, too, because she had been the recipient of some of the best lovemaking she’d had in a long time. Ari was tender and romantic. He knew what buttons to push and when to push them. Whispers of sweet nothings were music to Angelica’s ears, but the icing on the cake was the way he rocked her body with passion like they were the last two people on earth.

  She avoided Ari’s gaze and moved past him toward the front door. Sweaty palms opened the door, a
nd the dark-skinned gentleman dressed in a chauffeur’s uniform still stood on the porch with an expressionless look on his face. Before Angelica could speak, he said, “Mr. Santiago is waiting for you in the car.”

  “Did he say what he wanted? I’ve got to get ready for work in a few hours.”

  “I don’t make it my business to ask why, and you shouldn’t either.” Angelica rolled her eyes, but the gentleman ignored her. “I do know that his patience is wearing thin.”

  Angelica looked toward the car. The windows were tinted and she couldn’t see inside. All of a sudden, the back passenger window began to roll down, and there sat Santiago with a frown on his face, staring directly at Angelica. She walked down the few stairs from the porch and headed for the car, with Ari staring behind her. Ari shut the door hard, but no one turned around.

  The driver escorted Angelica to the other side of the car, opened the door, and motioned for Angelica to get in. The car was soon in motion.

  “What is this, Santiago? Why couldn’t you have called me?”

  “You might not have answered, and what I came to say, I had to say it in person.”

  “Well, talk.”

  “You’re awful cocky for someone who got a lot of my money last night.”

  “I don’t mean to be. It’s just that so much has happened since I’ve been in New York and I’m on edge. I really wanted this to be a fresh start.”

 

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