Surviving the Chase

by Lisa Renee Johnson

  Payton hurried around the smooth dark waters of Lake Merritt, contemplating her next move. She had not heard from Sheldon in a few days. And with his track record, she knew by now he’d blown through the money she gave him. Did he think his silence would convince her to turn over his inheritance money? Well, if he did, he had another think coming. With every step she took, she racked her brain, trying to figure out just what her uncle was up to. How dare he threaten her with anything related to Lois Greene? He should have known that if he wanted anything from her, then using Lois Greene as leverage was to his disadvantage. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was going on. Was he trying to scam her? Or was he out scamming somebody else to get his high? The thought of this scared her more than giving him his money. If he was scamming people, sooner or later, it would all catch up to him, and she prayed nobody would hurt him.

  He was a shell of the man she once remembered, and it saddened her to think about his demise. But that’s exactly what would happen if she stood by and watched him smoke all he had left in this world in a crack pipe. She had to convince him that she was trying to help his dumb ass; well, maybe “dumb” wasn’t the right word, considering his latest shenanigans.

  “Fuck!” she yelled, dodging piles of geese droppings that covered the sidewalk and the mob of geese fighting for pieces of bread a mother and her young child were tossing to them from a bench. She rolled her eyes upward at the sign that explained why these nasty animals weren’t dead. Killing them would be a federal offense, and nobody wanted to end up in jail for killing a damn bird. They were noisy, nasty, and very territorial about their babies, which was something all parents were supposed to be. Unfortunately for her, Lois Greene hadn’t gotten the memo.

  Her daddy, Jimmy, was the love of her life. The first day of school, the day she lost her first tooth, trips to the park, dyeing Easter eggs, and even painting her toenails, were all memories of her father. He took care of her. After he was murdered, everything changed. First, Lois demanded that Payton stop calling her “Mommy,” claiming it made people think she was old. Gradually Lois started locking herself in her room, then hanging out with strange people, which eventually led to her leaving for days at a time with no explanation. Payton remembered living in a constant state of fear that she would wake up and her mother would be gone. And one day that fear came true.

  Twenty-five years had passed, but Payton could still feel the devastation. It felt like it was yesterday that Lois left her standing outside the movie theater and never came back for her. After a few hours had passed, theater security contacted her grandparents, who were there in a matter of minutes to pick her up. Deep inside, she would always be the little girl who wasn’t good enough for her mother to love. Lois didn’t want her then, and Payton damn sure didn’t want Lois now. So, what was it? Why would Lois come back here after all this time? She wanted something, and the logical explanation was money. Payton chuckled.

  “I’ll burn in hell before I give that bitch one dime,” she said out loud.

  In hindsight Lois abandoning her was probably one of the best fucking things she could have ever done for her. The fact that Lois Greene was rotting in rehab says her life turned out to be a fucking disaster, which is just what she deserved. And Payton was grateful that she wasn’t a part of it. This abandoned little girl had made it. She was college-educated, with her own money and living life on her terms. Not too shabby for a girl with a crackhead mama.

  When she rounded the lake, a brown UPS truck at the stoplight caught her attention. It had been weeks since she saw him standing outside the window at Pican’s, and she still hadn’t heard back from Tony. She’d texted and called him, but short of showing up on his doorstep unannounced, there was nothing else she could or would do. Effective immediately, she was done kissing his ass. If he didn’t want to call her back, then fuck him. His loss. The string of lights hugging the perimeter of the lake flickered on, and Payton stared across the still water. She could see the Lake Chalet nestled in the distance and the multicolored rowboats neatly lined outside the sailboat house before locating her apartment building.

  She counted the windows across the ninth floor of One Lakeside Drive, until she came to her own, and found herself reminiscing about the last time Tony had pressed her naked body into the cool floor-to-ceiling glass and fucked her senseless. She shuddered at the thought. He wasn’t a selfish lover. He always took his time and worshiped every inch of her, including her mind. Tony Barnes always knew exactly what to do to get her off. Hell, who was she kidding? He was exactly what she craved right now, and those thoughts scared her so badly her stomach cramped.

  She had broken her cardinal rule, which was to not let herself get emotionally involved with men. Physically, yes, she enjoyed a good time, but she had always made it clear from the beginning that a relationship was out of the question. She was always in control, and when the fun was over, she walked away. Not the other way around.

  After finishing the three-mile loop, Payton made it back to her condo and found David Bryant sitting in the lobby.

  “Hey,” Payton said as he stood to greet her.

  David was a coffee-with-a-splash-of-cream-colored man, immaculately dressed in a suit and tie. Although he was fifty-five years old, other than his slightly graying temples, he didn’t look a day over forty. He grinned, flashing a perfect set of white teeth and a mischievous smile. He lowered his sunglasses—an accessory he no longer needed because it was getting dark out.

  “So, are we going out or what?” he asked, scrutinizing her up and down, but lingering on her breasts.

  Payton hesitated. She’d agreed to see him tonight, but now all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and lie on her chaise lounge for the rest of the evening, catching up on recorded episodes of Power.

  “I guess,” she said, turning on her heels to head for the elevators.

  “Well, don’t sound so excited about it. If you want, we can always order in,” he said, trailing behind her.

  They stepped into the elevator on opposite sides, and the doors closed behind them.

  “So, where’s wifey tonight?” Payton asked as the elevator ascended.

  David shot her a sharp look. “Does it matter?”

  Payton shrugged, feigning innocence. “I merely asked a simple question.”

  “If you must know, she’s out of town,” he said flatly.

  “Her little trips sure have become more frequent over the past few months. I know Sharon’s a high-profile entertainment attorney, but if I were you, I’d pay a little closer attention to that. Well, that’s if you give a damn—”

  “Are we staying in or going out?” he said, cutting her off, his words laced with agitation.

  When Payton reached her front door, she punched in the code and turned back around to face him. His eyes were dark and brooding. She studied his expression a moment, imagining his after-five shadow prickling against the inside of her thighs. If they stayed in, she wouldn’t have to get dressed. She could take a hot shower, fuck her way to multiple orgasms, and then she’d send his ass home, just like she always did. She grabbed him by his loosened tie and backed her way into the marble foyer.

  “C’mon, take a shower with me and we can order in. What do you feel like eating?”

  “The same thing I always eat when you and I are together,” David said, using his foot to close the door behind them.

  “And what’s that?”

  “You.”

  CHAPTER 13

  It was almost noon when Sydney dragged herself out of bed. Last night, after she’d argued with Donathan at the restaurant, they drove home in complete silence. How dare he take out his frustrations on her? When they arrived home, she hurried up the stairs and slammed and locked the bedroom door behind her to send him a clear message. His ass was not sleeping with her tonight. But when she turned on the lights and saw the black shoebox and Agent Provocateur bag resting on her side of the bed, she almost gave in.

  The guilt mix
ed with anger and humiliation kept her awake until the wee hours of the morning. She tossed and turned, tried not to inhale his overpowering scent that lingered on the pillows. The rift between them seemed so big, and she had no idea how to fix it. For the first time, she was afraid. Scared that what she and Donathan had gone through might be too much to overcome.

  She made her way to the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror that stretched the length of the his and hers vanity.

  “Oh, God,” she groaned.

  Her eyes were red and puffy, and her usually flat-ironed hair was a tangled mess, but with her hand still healing, there was not much she could do but wash it and be grateful for the natural curls she’d inherited from her mother.

  * * *

  After a quick shower, Sydney made her way downstairs. She could hear the soul-stirring sounds of Robert Glasper coming from the home office. When she reached the office doorway, she stretched her arms above her head, then leaned into the doorjamb surveying the scene. Donathan’s clothes from last night were tossed across a chair and a throw blanket was bunched up on the couch. From the looks of things, he had not gotten much sleep last night either.

  “I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” she said softly.

  Donathan looked up from the folder he was reading and studied her. His gaze was so intense she had to look away.

  “Come here.”

  When she reached him, she lifted her bare leg across his lap and straddled him. Immediately, the pads of his thumbs brushed against her beaded nipples, pressing hard against the jersey fabric. Then he rested his head on her chest listening to her heartbeat.

  * * *

  After a few minutes of making out, they came up for air. Sydney glanced over her shoulder at the cluttered desktop. It was covered with his usual black file folders, but the blue one resting open on top was the one she was most concerned about. She repositioned her body so she was now facing the desk.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  He rested his forehead on her back and shook his head from side to side. “No.”

  “When was the last time you slept?”

  “Yesterday, and before you ask, I didn’t take a sleeping pill because I’m not interested in anything mind-altering right now.”

  Sydney’s heart broke for him. From a medical perspective, she understood her husband had been traumatized, and truth be told, so had she. But his obsession with Austyn Greene was not healthy.

  “Baby, you can’t keep functioning on no sleep.” She picked up Austyn Greene’s dossier. “This can’t continue.”

  Sydney was sure Donathan had gone over this file backward and forward numerous times and no new epiphanies were going to jump off those pages. He needed to let it go.

  “I have to catch up on these patient files—”

  “No, you don’t. You’re not seeing patients right now, remember? What you’re doing is obsessing when what you need to do is leave the detective work to the police. I’m sure they’ll find her soon.”

  “No, they won’t.”

  “They’re better equipped to find her than you are.” She closed the blue file on the desk in front of him.

  Between his unpredictable behavior, the tension between them, and their fighting, she just wanted her husband back. She turned back to face him.

  “You can’t keep doing this.”

  She watched him closely. She could almost see his inability to process; it was like he was trying to decipher what she was saying to him. Clearly, he was tired.

  “Come lie down with me.” She stood and reached for his hand. Before he could rise to his feet, she noticed a cream-colored envelope with lavender script addressed to Donathan James and Dr. Sydney James. She picked it up.

  “What’s this?” she asked, not waiting for his response as she removed the contents from the envelope. Her eyes skimmed the words:

  Mrs. Sylver Monet James

  invites you to a dinner honoring

  Dr. Maurice James, the recipient of the prestigious

  Dodson Medical Society Award

  Saturday, May 15th @ 7:00 p.m.

  Pican’s

  Black Tie Attire (invitation only)

  “Oh my God!” Sydney squealed, practically jumping up and down. “This is fantastic! I can’t believe your mother hasn’t called.” Instantly, her mind raced back to the call she’d ignored from Sylver James. Yesterday, she let a call from her mother-in-law go to voice mail, sure that she was calling to voice her disapproval of Donathan being splashed across the front page of the Bay Area newspapers, but she was probably calling about this. Then again, knowing her mother-in-law, Sydney probably had it right the first time.

  Donathan rolled his eyes upward. “My mother has done nothing but call me. I told her that we should probably sit this thing out—”

  “What?”

  “The last thing I want to do is ruin this night for my father.”

  “Donathan, you can’t be serious.” Her father-in-law worked hard and deserved the recognition. But at the same time, she understood Donathan’s resistance, which had nothing to do with Austyn Greene. Raised with a silver spoon practically shoved down his throat, he was always reluctant when it came to mingling with the Bay Area elite. But not attending his father’s recognition dinner wasn’t an option.

  “This will be a really big night for your father. He’ll be devastated if you aren’t there.”

  Donathan leaned back in the black leather chair and blew out a ragged breath. Sydney looked on in silence while he mulled over his options.

  “Okay,” he said, finally.

  She rewarded his decision with a light kiss that turned into something of the more passionate variety before she finally pulled away and started for the door. Donathan gently tugged at her wrist.

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “To check to see if your tux needs to be cleaned.”

  “Slow down, baby. We have almost a week. Besides, I thought we were going to lie down,” he said, motioning toward the stiff appendage bulging in his pajama bottoms. His stomach growled.

  Lounging around in bed with her man was high on her list of favorite things to do. But first, she needed to cook him something to eat.

  “Do you want some grits and eggs? I can whip up a quick omelet.”

  Donathan lifted her right hand. The white gauze wraps were gone, but a flesh-colored two-by-four bandage covered her entire palm.

  “Maybe I should do the cooking,” he said.

  “I got this. I can’t do surgery yet, but I am allowed to cook up some grits and a few eggs.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “You’re up early,” Austyn said, eyeballing the tall, lanky man anxiously wandering around the motel parking lot. The man’s clothing draped over his body like the extra skin of a Japanese Shar-Pei. His dark brown eyes were wide and wired, his hair a tangled mess of dreads. Her target was primed and ready.

  “You need something to take the edge off?” Austyn questioned, thinking this was the exact moment she had been waiting for over the last few days.

  “What?” Sheldon mumbled. “Girl, quit playin’ with me and stick to what you do best, which is make your money lying on your back. Now, move out my way,” he said, attempting to step around her.

  Austyn fished inside her jacket pocket and pulled out a small plastic baggie with yellowish rocklike contents. Sheldon quickly reached for the bag, but she yanked it away.

  “Not so fast.”

  “Bitch, gimme my shit!” he yelled.

  Several motel room doors flew open, the occupants peeking out to see what all the commotion was. Austyn stuffed the coveted contents back into her pocket and backed out of his reach.

  “Who you callin’ a bitch? And last time I checked, this wasn’t your shit!”

  “C’mon, girl, stop playing,” he begged, closing the distance she’d put between them.

  Austyn felt around in her other pocket for her scalpel, before she made the
next proposition. Because even in his cracked-out state, Sheldon was still a man and he still outweighed her. She noticed Ray, the motel pimp, watching them closely, and she didn’t need the likes of him all up in her business. She needed to take these negotiations behind closed doors.

  “You can have this,” she said, patting her pocket, “but first, I need you to answer a few questions for me.”

  “What do you want?” he said, his voice laced with desperation.

  “C’mon, let’s go to your room.”

  Sheldon practically ran across the parking lot with Austyn close on his heels. His hands shook as he inserted the key into the door to gain entry into his room. Once inside, he pleaded, “Give it to me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  Austyn extended her hand, and he grabbed the tiny clear bag and rushed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. A few minutes passed before the strange odor wafted from underneath the door. The burning plastic smell transported her back to her childhood—the little girl being dragged in and out of crack houses.

  In medical school, she’d learned that it wasn’t the cocaine that smelled when it was smoked; it was the chemicals used to cut it. Holding her breath, she coughed, then placed her ear to the bathroom door, listening for any indication of what was going on in there. Silence.

  “Sheldon,” she called out, hoping she hadn’t given him too much. Austyn jiggled the handle of the locked door. The last thing she needed was for him to overdose and her not get the information she needed. The cops would be swarming around here for sure. Working herself into a panic, she called out his name again.

  “Sheldon!”

  Too many people had seen her come in here, and if he was dead, she would be the first person they came looking for. Making sure she didn’t touch anything, she started to back away from the bathroom door, then she heard his weak response.

  “What?” he mumbled.

  “You ready to talk?”

  “Damn, can I at least enjoy my high for a few minutes?” he said, slurring like his mouth was full of marbles. “We can talk tomorrow,” he shot back.