In antiterrorism training, they teach you to remain calm and give whoever it is whatever they want.
I held up my hands. “All right, man, in a minute. Tell me what you need and I’ll go get someone to help.”
“I didn’t do this. I . . . I woke up in the trunk of a car. They busted my hand up and made me hold this wire . . . I can’t keep holdin’ this.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. There wasn’t going to be enough time for me to get topside and bring down help. Ladybug was still sitting where I left her booting up. She weighted eight hundred pounds; there was no way I’d be able to get her over here fast enough.
“Okay, okay. Just stay calm. I’m gonna make sure that both of us will walk out of here.” My words sounded way more confident than I felt.
I inched my way closer, mentally running down the odds. Can’t cut the wire, can’t remove it from his hand. Can’t guarantee there’ll be enough time to diffuse the device before he drops the wire. This is a lose-lose situation.
“Evacuate the hospital. Let me die.” His words were breathless urgent gasps.
“We’ve already done that, my dude. Everybody’s gone except you and me. I got this, I’m not about to let you die.”
I was finally close enough to see his hands. How he managed to hold anything was an act of God himself. His fingers looked like they’d been run through a sausage grinder. I made an effort not to wince or make a face at the white bone sticking out where his index finger should have been. Every nerve, every cell in my being was screaming for me to get the fuck out of there.
Blood-splattered papers littered the ground, indicating some kind of a scuffle had gone down. A wallet laid open at my feet. I picked it up, scanning over his driver’s license. His name was Genesis Kane. I gave him a friendly, encouraging smile. Hopefully, I could bring him around, give him a sense of security by using his name. Maybe it would rehumanize him if he heard it. Maybe it would give him some hope.
“I’m Jarryd,” I introduced myself. “How about we work on getting you out of this mess, Mr. Kane. Can I—”
A blinding yellow flash lit up the garage. It shook the ground and the concrete pillars. The sound of the blast pounded against my eardrums. It felt like an oven had opened behind me as heat rushed against the back of my neck and head. Something told my brain they were flames, but it all happened in a frame of time too short for me to react to. I felt searing heat, jarring pain, and weightlessness, and then I didn’t feel a thing.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, I thought I was dead. Dust tickled the hairs in my nose. It felt like there were layers of it crammed up there. My ears wouldn’t stop ringing, and my eyes burned like I’d dipped my head into a pool of saltwater. I drifted in and out of the darkness, waking up in small enough stretches to feel a new painful sensation in a different part of my body. I couldn’t tell if I’d been asleep for a few minutes or a few months. It took several minutes for me to realize I was lying down in a hospital.
The television was the first thing to break through the dull ringing in my ears. “The FBI have recovered the body of one of their own from the blast zone. Investigators have now identified the human remains uncovered not far from where investigators say the device detonated. Special Agent Bomb Technician Jarryd Keening’s ID was found close to the center of the blast radius. There were no other casualties, although several bystanders on the street were injured.”
I stared blindly at the TV, barely able to make out the face of the woman reporting the news. What looked like Peterson’s ugly mug darkened the screen. He recited a prewritten speech about how good of a man I was. How I was a fallen hero who’d made him proud.
What the fuck? Why would everyone think I was dead? I wasn’t fucking dead! I tried to sit up and fell back from the pain that shot through my shoulder.
A cheerful nurse breezed into the room in a blur of pink scrubs and caramel skin.
“Good morning, Mr. Kane. It is so good to see you’re finally awake. Now I’m gonna need you to behave and be still.”
Wincing at the pain now shooting from my shoulder to my forehead I sat still so she could tend to me.
“What happened to me, how did I get here?”
“Genesis, sweetie, you were caught up in an explosion and found by some volunteer search and rescue workers who found you outside of a parking garage. They flew you in from Norfolk. You’re in DC, sweetie.”
Did she just call me Genesis? What the fuck? Why was she calling me by that other guy’s name? I opened my mouth to correct her. My name was Jarryd Keening. I had a wife and a new son I couldn’t stand. They were home waiting for me in my house with the mortgage that I was struggling to pay. Tima was probably beside herself crazy, grieving over this mix-up, planning my funeral.
My thoughts stunned me into stupefied silence as the nurse tended to my wounds. She examined my collarbone, nodding to herself before tending to a bandage that I didn’t even know was wrapped around my head. As the gauze unraveled, I tried to do the same with my hazy memories. Seconds before the explosion, I’d picked up Genesis Kane’s ID. The force of the explosion must’ve thrown me out of the garage. Without my helmet latched on, it most likely knocked me out of my blast suit. Since I was supposed to be the only man in the garage, when they found the other man’s remains inside, they must’ve assumed it was me. Everyone had just assumed that I’d died, and why wouldn’t they? They had a body, my ID, and since I was the idiot who went against protocol, they didn’t know anyone else was there.
That little slip on my part could cost me my career if I contacted my command now. I’d lose everything and probably get blamed for the death of a civilian too, all because I was trying to be the hero.
The nurse leaned across me chatting away with her titties not more than an inch away from my face. “You should know that you’ve been very well tended to these last few days. You won our finest patient award.” She giggled flirtatiously. “It’s been hell keeping all the other nurses from trying to steal my best patient.”
Inhaling, I hid an amused smile. She smelled like ripe, juicy peaches drizzled in honey. It’d been a minute since I’d gotten a compliment from a woman other than Tima. We bomb technicians stayed tucked away at the office or out in the field. We didn’t get to “flex on ’em” like the boys in the penguin suits did. I mumbled a low thank-you for the compliment.
“Not that I was snooping or anything. But your IDs and stuff were all charred up. The only way we could identify you was by your Bar Association card. Um, may I ask what kind of lawyer are you exactly? Because I’ve got all these damn speeding tickets, and I probably can’t afford you, but I really need a good stiff lawyer to help me out.”
Her hands left the bandage wrapped around my head, making their way down my chest toward my lap. I’d dated Tima faithfully for three years before we’d gotten married. Five years of fucking the same pussy had my Johnson leaping to attention at the thought of getting rubbed up and possibly falling into some new pussy.
“You keep doin’ what you’re doing, and I’ll be any kind of lawyer you want me to be.” The lie slipped out of my mouth so easily I couldn’t believe I’d said it. But she was sliding her fingernails up my bare thighs, getting closer and closer to the tent-pole sticking up in the middle of my hospital gown. Her fingers felt like heaven warmed over when they finally wrapped around me.
I had to keep that shit going. “But to be completely honest. I practice tort law, and I do the whole trial thing too. You know, I’ve never lost a case,” I ground out through some shit I’d heard on a commercial through clenched teeth. I probably wasn’t even saying it right or using it in the right order.
But shit, it was the truth . . . granted I ain’t never had a case, let alone stepped foot into a courtroom. She ain’t need to know all that.
This would be the day Jarryd Keening would officially die and Genesis Kane would be reborn. I just needed to let Foreign and Chief know where I was. We were about to initiate a DC takeover.
NOVIE
31
Discovery Channel
I dropped the journal. It hit the floor with a loud slap. A picture of a little girl named Janay with a snaggletoothed smile floated out of it. HAVE YOU SEEN ME was plastered along the bottom in faded yellow letters. Genesis, I mean Jarryd, or whatever he wanted to call himself, wasn’t even a real attorney. No, no, no. I backed away from the book like it was on fire. What kind of man would just leave his wife and son? I was shaking my head in disbelief. He was probably just writing some kind of fictional short story and was too embarrassed to be seen doing it by the light of day. But Tima was real. She was at his office my first day on the job.
I picked up the journal and the picture with unsteady fingers. That nigga probably had an entire harem of women and kids that he’d just wipe out whenever it was convenient.
The lights automatically clicked on, offering me dim guidance up the stairs toward the bedroom I slept in when I wasn’t sleeping with Gen. I still wasn’t used to it or all these fancy features that Gen’s house had. Probably never would be. Once inside my room, I decided to take some quick action. I reluctantly stopped eating long enough to take my pregnancy tests into the bathroom. They all needed three minutes, and if this wasn’t the longest three minutes of my life . . . While I waited, I grabbed a Post-it note from the box of things I’d brought home from my desk. At least Kenisha would know from me personally that the way she left this house was unacceptable. The note I scribbled out for her was straight to the point. Clean up after yourself.
It was short and simple, and it would probably send her little spoiled ass through the roof. Kenisha’s bedroom was the size of a small palace, complete with vaulted ceilings and a balcony that stretched the length of the back of the house. Unlike Genesis’s balcony, hers had two reclining lawn chairs with a large multicolored umbrella set up above them. I really got the short straw on the room selection. My shit doesn’t even have a bay window, and it’s half the size of this shit.
My nose turned up at the clothes strewn all across the floor and bed. Half-eaten cereal bowls littered her vanity. Her closet and drawers were half open with clothes and underclothes hanging half in and half out. How did she ever find anything in here? I wandered over to her closet, stepping over candy wrappers and empty Twinkie boxes. It was like a Forever 21 bomb went off, and all of the clothes landed in and all over her room.
This was ridiculous. My momma would’ve taken every piece of clothing I owned. She would’ve held them all hostage or given them away until I learned to keep my shit neat. There wasn’t even a clear place to put a note. Not one where she’d see it. There was so much shit everywhere it would just get lost. And then I had an aha! moment. Her little conceited ass stayed in the bathroom. I’d just slap this bad-boy up on her bathroom mirror right at eye level. She wouldn’t miss that.
A noise from downstairs made me pause. Panicky and suddenly nervous about getting caught I waited, listening to see if it was a door closing or maybe just a car on the street. Genesis usually headed straight for his office when he came in. He’d put his stuff down, shuffle through the mail, and finally make his way upstairs. Kenisha was a different story. Sometimes she’d fly into whichever bathroom was closest. She’d sit in there, peeing like a baby pony with the door wide open. Then there were times when she’d come directly to her room with an attitude from hell.
I rushed around a pile of shopping bags and empty shoe boxes stacked near the foot of her bed heading toward her bathroom. It usually took her an eternity to climb those stairs. They’d slow her down, giving me just enough time to get my note in place. My toes dug into the plush carpet; even the carpet in here felt softer than the rest of the house. It was like walking across cotton ball fluff. Thankfully, the door to her bathroom was cracked. I’d be able to slip in and out faster this way.
I’d started to just stick the note on the door itself when I saw them in the mirror. The lights were off but there was enough late-evening light coming through the bathroom window to illuminate them in grey and blue shadows. Genesis’s hand was pressed over Kenisha’s mouth. His face was hidden in the side of her neck. They looked like some kind of silent, horrifying painting standing against the far wall of her bathroom. Genesis’s pants were around his ankles, his dress shirt strained against the muscles in this back. Kenesha’s turquoise sundress was up around her waist, her eyes were shut tight. One of her legs was thrown over his arm as he maneuvered himself around her swollen belly, pumping in and out of her quietly.
Half-eaten tomatoes and cucumbers rose in my throat. The horror of what I was seeing made me shake all over with disgust and outrage. The note fluttered from my fingers, landing beside maternity panties on the floor. They looked torn, like he’d ripped them off of her. What was he doing home when he told me he was staying in the office late?
My brain fired a thousand different courses of actions in a matter of seconds. All of them led me to the same blocked wall. Genesis had too much power. He could make me disappear for what I’d just seen. That wouldn’t give me any time to help Kenisha. It wouldn’t give me a chance to get her, and myself, away from this monster. He’d be outraged; he’d deny what I’d seen, or worse, he’d kill me on the spot.
The only direction my feet would move me in was backward out of the door. My vision was too blurry for me to see my way. I sagged against the walls, using them to guide me as I staggered back toward my room. That poor girl, that poor, poor girl. I couldn’t get the image out of my head. It twisted my stomach into bubbly knots until I ran into my own bathroom heaving vomit on the way. The spasms were so hard it felt like the veins were going to break through the skin in my neck. The sides of the toilet were icy cold against my fingers while I prayed this shit would hurry up and be over. When there was nothing left in my stomach, I fell back exhausted, sitting on the floor with my back up against the bathroom.
Too weak to do more than lean forward, I snatched the edge of the hand towel hanging off the counter. Pregnancy tests clinked onto the hard tile floor all around me. My stomach lurched again, but there wasn’t anything left in it. Each and every single one of those tests was positive.
NOVIE
32
Stockholm Syndrome
It was dark when I finally opened my eyes. I’d either fallen asleep or passed out on the bathroom floor. My body was stiff and sore after being on the floor for so long. My knees were wobbly as I tried to stand. I turned on the cold water, watching it rush down the drain with my life and my faith. How did I let myself get fooled into caring about a man like that? There were so many questions running through my head. I rinsed my mouth out with cold water from the sink before splashing it over my face. This felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
The sun had finally set, and the bedroom was dark as I walked out. It was somewhere near ten. There were no missed calls or texts on my cell. Even though I was avoiding him, I don’t know why it bothered me to know that Genesis hadn’t bothered to check on me, nor had he asked me to come sleep with him last night. I know if he’d gone downstairs, he’d had to have seen my coat or the note! The note I’d written had fallen and landed on the floor. He must’ve seen it, or maybe Kenisha saw it. He probably knew that I’d seen him. Hiding in the dark security of my bedroom felt like the best answer after I tipped over to quietly lock my bedroom door. I used my phone’s flashlight to find the letter opener I’d packed in my workbox.
The bed creaked as I climbed onto it fully clothed with my letter opener clutched tightly in my hand. I didn’t know what to expect or what to do. All of this worrying could have been for nothing. But, now I had a new problem. I had a baby to protect, and Kenisha was somebody’s baby too. Now it was up to me to get all of us away from Genesis. My pillow was soaked with tears by the time exhaustion sank in. I crashed into a restless sleep filled with running shadows fucking and Genesis yelling.
I jerked awake with the sun streaming through the blinds smacking me in the face, feeling like
I hadn’t slept at all. A wave of nausea sent me scrambling to the bathroom. I dry heaved until my throat was raw and my stomach muscles felt sore and strained. This was a whole new experience. I didn’t have a single day of morning sickness when I’d gotten pregnant with Swiss’s baby. That shit felt like it was a whole lifetime ago. All the old chapters of my life combined didn’t have anything on the pages I was writing with Genesis. How the hell can I even approach him about a baby after seeing what he’s done to Kenisha? What if we had a daughter? What if something happened to me and she was left with him?
There was no way I could get rid of my baby, not again. But now, I’d have to live, knowing I’d made a child with a monster. He didn’t even seem real to me after what I’d seen. Nothing about Genesis felt real or genuine. I stared at myself in the mirror with unseeing eyes. Where was Shandy when I really needed her? I hadn’t heard from her at all since the night I packed my shit and left. Revenge felt good in the moment, but now a million questions came up whenever I thought about her. Aris hadn’t even crossed my mind when I did what I did. And I had way too much pride to call and ask her if they were okay. Without Shandy, without Denise, there was no one for me to confide in; there was nowhere for me to run and hide until things felt safe.
A knock at my bedroom door scared the devil out of me.
“I’m in the bathroom,” I called out in a shaky voice.
“I hope you slept as well as I did. I’m making us all breakfast, so come on before Hungry Jack eats everything in the house,” Genesis yelled back.
I didn’t have the strength or the will to respond. There was no way I’d be able to face them both together at the table. Let alone eat anything. I dawdled for as long as I possibly could, taking an extralong shower, washing my hair, and scrubbing my body over and over. I dabbed foundation under my eyes to hide the dark circles. There was no erasing what I’d seen; there wasn’t going to be any looking past it. I’d have to find a way to address this, and then I’d have to deal with the outcome.
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