by C. J. Thomas
He looked at my splayed fingers before lifting his hand to shake with mine. “Thanks for coming.”
“Let’s dive right in then,” I said, opening my briefcase and pulling out the files of notes Giselle and I had collected pertaining to his case. “There was a woman who put you in contact with me,” I lifted my gaze and looked at him from beneath my brow, “can you tell me her name?
His brows drew together. He glanced at Giselle, then back to me, shaking his head. “No. It wasn’t a woman.”
I turned to look at Giselle. “Can you tell us who did, then?” Giselle asked.
“A big man came. I didn’t catch his name.” Mario’s voice was soft but tainted with the subtle underlying fear of a man whose future was uncertain. “He told me that the only chance I had at being set free was to call you. And I believed him.”
“Has the court appointed you a lawyer?” I asked.
He nodded, staring down at the metal table out in front of him.
“And you refused to accept their counsel?”
“I haven’t refused anybody’s counsel.” His eyes shot up, darting between mine and Giselle’s. “Look, I need to get out of here. I don’t care who will do that, but I was told that if you worked with me, my chances were good.”
I took a deep breath. “Mario—do you mind if I call you Mario?”
“It’s fine.”
“Do you understand the charges being brought against you?”
He rubbed his face and turned his head. “Whatever you’ve heard, I’m innocent. I didn’t hurt that girl.”
“What girl are you referring to, Mario?” Giselle placed both her elbows on top of the table and leaned forward.
“The one they said I murdered.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Maria something …” His hand waved through the air.
“You mean this one?” I pulled one photo of Maria out from under the pile and slid it over to him.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the image. Though he gave no hint of either remorse or guilt, there were still more answers we needed before deciding to take him on as a client or not.
“Let’s go over the timeline of that day.” Giselle pulled her eye-glasses down, straightened her spine, and began reading over the dozens of papers she had laid out in front of her. One-by-one she plucked, pulled, and slid them over to Mario.
I stared, listened, and watched as Giselle filled in the gaps to where Mario actually was that day and what it was he was doing. And as they conversed, my thoughts naturally drifted to Kendra.
She made my blood boil, but I wasn’t about to let her go either. If anything, her constant rejection to my non-disclosure only made me want her even more. I was going to have to find a way to rein her in, because if I didn’t—
“Like I’ve told the detectives, for the hundredth time, I was in Mexico when this all happened.”
I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Mario mention Mexico. Mario’s story didn’t stray from his initial interview with the detectives. And that had me thinking there was a possibility that he was telling the truth. But there was still a reason Madam put us in touch and I needed to get to the bottom of that before anything else. “Mexico, you said?”
“I have to repeat myself again?” Mario sneered.
“We just need to understand the facts.” Giselle put a damper on the frustration beginning to build between us.
“Were you there on business?” I asked with pen to paper.
Mario cocked his head to the side. “Why would you assume that?”
“Is there a reason I should?”
“Look at me, dude. I’m Mexican. It’s where I’m from.”
“Mr. Jimenez, are you employed?” Giselle asked.
“I’m in business for myself.” He fell back into his seat and folded his arms over his chest.
“What kind of business are you involved in?”
“What does this have to do with you helping me get off? If you’re worried about not getting paid, I’ll put up the money right now. Is that what you want?”
“Do you recognize this man?” I pulled another photo from my stack and pushed it to his side of the table.
Mario leaned closer and studied the face for a minute before saying, “Looks like every other asshole in this town.”
“Except you both have connections to the Santa Marta drug cartel,” I said, needing to see how he would react to my accusatory statement.
“Look.” He dropped his elbows on the table, letting a hollow thud ricochet off the bare walls. “What is this?” His shoulders rose and fell. “Your words are making me believe you don’t want to represent me.”
“I’m still deciding.”
“Without you, I’ll sit in here forever.” He leaned back and huffed. “How can I help you make a decision?”
“Give me something to make me believe you’re innocent.” My gaze cast to the photo of Blake Stone I’d passed his way.
Mario began to talk. He told Giselle and me about how film producer Nash Brooks was after some missing money that was thought to be hidden inside some Hollywood studio, and how instead a young woman named Alex Grace found all $250K of it, neatly stashed inside a duffel bag.
My pen scribbled as fast as I could keep up, taking detailed notes on it all.
Everything he was saying was news to us and we kept asking questions. “How do you know all this? Were you directly involved?”
He shook his head but there was something about it that made me think he was hiding a detail to his story. “Word travels fast on the street. And then, the next thing I know, I’m being arrested for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Giselle and I shared a glance, realizing that this went deeper than either of us originally imagined. But that still didn’t explain why the Madam had sent me here. What was it she wanted me to hear?
“Somewhere along the line I was framed,” Mario mumbled under his breath.
It wasn’t worth entertaining that idea. Maybe he was framed, but likely not. And, for his sake, I hoped that he was wrong. But the more I heard, the less any of it made any kind of sense.
“The evidence points to you,” I said, tapping the image of Maria’s lifeless body.
He had a pained expression when he looked at her image. “I don’t know who she is.” He lifted his head to look me in the eye. “I don’t do that to women. You must believe me.”
There was a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes that made me believe he was telling me the truth about her. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. If what you’re saying is true, you’ll have to convince a jury that you’re innocent.”
“With your help.” His eyes rounded. “Right? With your help.” His voice grew panicked.
When I looked at Giselle she cast her gaze to her notes.
Then Mario pulled the photo of Blake Stone between his fingers and held it in front of his face. “If I tell you more about him, will you represent me?”
30
Kendra
Alex was already gone to work by the time I woke up.
Without her there to fill the other half of the bed, I flipped and flopped, nuzzling my head deeper into the down pillow. It was big, fluffy, and softer than anything I’d ever owned myself and I couldn’t get enough of it. I was completely in love and we’d only had one night together.
Checking the tag for a make and model, I swore to myself that I needed to purchase a pillow like this, and soon. Especially if Madam was going to keep putting a wall up between me and the men who were supposed to be fucking me. At least then I’d have an easier time falling asleep as my angst for orgasm stirred, attempting to rob me of a peaceful night’s sleep.
My arms stretched above my head as I yawned.
With a day without a schedule, I wondered how I should pass my time and if it was worth staying here or going home. But as I spread my limbs out—reaching as far as I could in an attempt to touch the sides—I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t find the edge where the bed ended and d
idn’t want to leave the warmth and safety it provided.
And these sheets, too. The way the satin felt against my bare legs sparked feelings of vacation. A trip away. Something to take my mind off of Kelly and what he was doing to me. I could see why Alex bragged about sleeping in this gigantic bed. It was heaven. And it was any wonder how she managed to get up every morning and leave it just so she could go to work and bust her ass. Her bed was too good to leave, but without her there to help me fill it, I started to feel lonely and depressed.
My eyes popped open and I let out a sigh.
Now I understood how she could get up each morning. Without Nash there to fill the void, what was the point? Comfort could only go so far before loneliness crept in to steal it away.
Tossing the covers off of me, I hit the floor running. I splashed some water on my face and threw on my clothes. Heading into the kitchen, I stopped at the colorful bouquet of flowers, taking the time to put my nose up to them.
Slowly, my eyes closed as my lips curled upward.
There was no better way to start a day alone than like this. When my eyes opened, I stole a chocolate for the road and headed to the door. Just before closing it, I turned to glance inside, thinking this luxurious apartment wasn’t as nice without someone to share it with. No wonder Alex didn’t mind me basically living here while Nash was out of town.
Heading to the elevator, I scheduled for a ride to pick me up. And by the time I made it to the location of my requested pick-up, he was already waiting. “You again,” I said, sliding into the back seat.
“My friend.” He gave me a warm smile in the rearview mirror.
I nodded, buckling myself in, thinking that he was becoming like a friend. It was the same Uber driver as I’d been getting these last couple of requests, and the familiarity was a good feeling.
“Hey. Can I ask you a question?” I asked as he set the car in motion.
He glanced in his mirror again, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment. “For my favorite customer, anything.”
“You remember that place you took me the other day?”
His browse squished as he took a moment to think back to that day. “I remember.”
I held his gaze and said, “Do you make drops to that club often?”
He flipped his blinker on and turned the wheel as we made a sharp turn onto a slightly busier street. Alex’s place wasn’t that far from mine, so I knew that I didn’t have much time to get as much information as possible from my driver before our time was up.
“People request to be dropped everywhere in this city,” he said, looking straight ahead.
“I understand, but I’m asking about that specific location.” He didn’t seem to want to discuss anything related to the club so I dug in my purse and slipped him a couple of twenties. “It’s okay. This conversation will remain between us. No one else will know.”
I was the first to break eye contact even though he was the one behind the wheel. But from the way he was looking at me, I knew he was wondering if I could be trusted with what he knew.
“What are the people you take there like?”
His eyes fell from the mirror and moved back to the road. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel and said, “It’s only women.”
“So you weren’t surprised to see me when you knew where I wanted to go?”
“No.”
He made a look like he wanted to tell me something else. “What is it?”
“And I never take the same route when heading there.”
My brows furrowed, wondering why that was. “Do you ever pick customers up from there?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know how they get home, but I assume they find men to do it.”
“I see,” I said as he slowed to a stop a couple blocks from my apartment.
When I opened the door he twisted around and said, “I’m not sure what goes on there but I’m paid good money to take customers there.”
“Who pays you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how they do it. It’s computers that make the scheduling … way over my head.”
“Thanks.” He nodded and I shut the door, watching him turn the wheel and roll back into motion.
I knew there was something weird going on with the route he took the other day. But I still didn’t understand it. Why him? And who was paying him to take women there? And why was it such a big secret?
Hurrying back to my building, I was lost inside my own thoughts. Once inside the lobby, I was greeted by my doorman, Mr. Anderson. “Ms. Williams,” he smiled, “a gift was left for you.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as I wondered who knew enough about me to be leaving a gift here.
Mr. Anderson dug behind his counter and pulled out a solid white box, perfectly tied up in a glowing red bow. The Madam, I thought.
“Any idea who it’s from?” I asked.
“I’m sorry.” He raised his bushy eyebrows. “The packaging is lovely, though.”
“It certainly is,” I said taking it into my hands. “Thank you.”
“You have a wonderful day, Ms. Williams.”
“You too, Mr. Anderson.”
The Madam was always up to something new, I thought as I rode the elevator to my floor. This had her name written all over it. The packaging. The surprise. And she was the only one, besides Alex, who knew exactly where I lived.
Digging through my purse I pulled my keys and unlocked the door to my apartment. It felt good to be home, and with a day with nothing planned, there was nothing more I wanted than to draw myself a bath and let my body soak. But first I needed to calm my burning desire to open the gift and see just exactly what lay inside.
Pinching the bow between my fingers I tugged it open, pulling the top off next.
A flash of adrenaline tingled across my body the moment I saw the note laying on top. My hand flew over my mouth as I gasped in surprise. This wasn’t from Madam, no, the gift had been given to me by Kelly.
I fell into my wooden chair, feeling my thrashing heart beat fast and wild in my neck. The temperature in the room exploded as the thought of Kelly knowing where I lived was both terrifying and exciting. I could only guess as to how he found out, but I was sure it had something to do with his connection to the Madam.
There was a reason I preferred to keep my life a secret. A million different reasons, actually. And I was fully aware of my paranoia. It was what kept me cautious and alive. My natural distrust for others was real, but I also wasn’t going to deny that it felt at least a little bit good to know Kelly was thinking of me, especially considering I kept running out on him.
I leaned back in my chair, reading Kelly’s note.
Bella, you can run but you can’t hide. Consider this a peace offering. Wear it tonight. I’m taking you out. Yours truly ~ K. Black
A warm feeling spread up my chest as a smile filled my face.
I knew I’d promised Alex I’d tell her everything about my night with Kelly, but she was out the door much earlier than I expected and now I wasn’t sure that it would even be relevant after tonight.
After setting the note down on top of the table, I reached into the box with both hands and pulled out a gorgeous deep purple chiffon sleeveless mermaid dress with heels to match.
I couldn’t stop running my fingers over the material, thinking that his actions weren’t like the ones I would expect from a man who had issues with commitment. Angel didn’t know what she was talking about. Kelly fought for me, kept fighting for me, and it spoke volumes to the character of the man he was.
A heavy sigh left my chest as my eyebrows gathered in.
It was selfish of me to always be leaving him without saying goodbye, and I didn’t know why I kept doing it, other than I was afraid of getting attached too quickly. I guess I always figured that if I left him first each time we fucked, then I couldn’t get hurt. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t hurting him. And for that, I felt like a bitch.
“If this is what
you want—” I mumbled to myself, digging out the contract Kelly wanted me to sign, “—then I’ll do it. If only to calm your worried mind.”
I clicked the pen and dropped the ball to paper. Just as I was about to scribble my signature, there was a knock on my door.
My head turned over my shoulder and I debated whether or not to just ignore it, but the knocking never stopped. I dropped the pen and headed to peek through the door to find Jerome standing tall with his hands at his sides. “What did I do this time?” I said, opening the door.
“The Madam would like to see you.” His voice was gruff and straight to the point.
“Now?”
“Now.”
“I just got home and was going to take a shower—”
Jerome reached out and clamped his big sausage fingers around my skinny arms, tugging me into the hallway. “That can wait.”
“But my purse. I need my purse!” I tripped and stumbled down the hallway as I heard my front door slam shut.
Jerome didn’t let up and by the time we were inside the elevator, I gave up trying to fight him into letting me stay and get ready before I showed my face to the Madam.
Madam was waiting in the back of the limo, hiding behind a wide brimmed sun hat, tear drop diamond earrings framing her angled face. “Kendra, doll. You were home.” She clapped her hands.
Jerome slammed the door, sending my insides jumping, and immediately after that the wheels began to roll.
The Madam and I stared at each other for a minute without saying a word. I didn’t want to be the first to talk. She needed to tell me what was on her mind and why the sudden, early morning meeting that just couldn’t wait. “Kendra baby, tell me. Did you fuck him like I instructed?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, wondering how much of my night she already knew about. “I did,” I said, not bothering to specify who exactly I’d fucked.
Her eyes narrowed as she set her jaw. “Huh.” She wet her lips. “Mr. Parker didn’t mention that part of his night to me.” She tapped her chin with her long, painted nail.