A Dangerous Love 5: No Love Lost

by J Peach

  “What you want me to do?”

  The question was causing a nervous ache to form in my stomach. “I want you to leave—”

  “You want me to leave?” He asked, staring at me, the confusion clear on his face.

  “Blaze, I want you to stop the shit you’re doing. I mean, I want you legit. I want you to leave that extra shit alone. It’s not like you need the money, bae, you can walk away from it.

  “If we’re going to be together I need to know without a doubt that you gon’ come back to me every time you leave from my sight. If you can do that then everything that has happened I’ll forget it and we’ll start fresh, but you have to let yo side business go.” Walking up to him, my hands took hold of his. “Can you do that for me, B?”

  Did I mean what I said about him quitting? No, I didn’t. But I wanted to know how much I really meant to him. I wanted to know if he was willing to throw everything away to keep me like he claimed.

  Blaze didn’t say anything as his eyes went from one of mine to the other before he pulled away.

  “No, but you knew that already. I told you before this is what I do—”

  “No, it’s what you do by choice. You don’t have to make hustling your life’s work. Blaze, one day I want to get married and have kids with you, but I’m not raising no babies by myself. And as long as you’re hustling, the idea of you one day not coming back will forever hold all of that back for me, for us.

  “You done told me on more than one occasion that I’m gon’ be your wife and mother of your kids. B, we can have that, we can start fresh, new, right now. What happened before this moment will be our past, all you have to do is let that part of you go.” I moved closer to him again, but stopped, as he moved back.

  His hand rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced at me but looked away just as fast, shaking his head.

  “I can’t— Why the fuck you gon’ ask me to do that shit, man?” Blaze shook his head again, not even giving me time to reply to his question. “N’all, I can’t do that. This me, all I got.”

  I smacked my lips at his lame excuse and I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s all you want and wanna be. Some high class old ass hustla who scares folks. A hood is all you gon’ ever be for the simple fact that it’s what you want, but that’s you. It’s crazy because even though you just practically told me where I stand in yo life, I’ll still drop everything to help you no matter what it is. Fuck’d up you can’t do the same.”

  I was hoping to hear him say he’d quit, that hustling didn’t mean that much to him. That he’d rather be with me instead. But I knew that was a big hope, one I might never get which is why not a tear left my eyes.

  “I seriously hope you find that one person who makes you see there’s more to life than the one you’re living, who makes you wanna change and actually become a man, the man I know you can be.” I meant what I said about leaving.

  It was apparent that what I wanted Blaze didn’t care enough to give me. Like always I put myself out there for him, but never got the same thing in return.

  “I don’t need no bitch that wanna change me. I’m who I am, you gon’ either accept that or you can go, I’m not stopping you, man. Ain’t nobody gon’ give me no mothafuckin’ ultimatum, I’mma grown ass man and do what the fuck I wanna. But I ain’t fuck’d up, tho. It’s obvious I misjudged yo ass thinking you can handle what I do. If you gon’ leave because of that then gon’ head, I ain’t stopping you,” Blaze said nonchalantly, but that was straight bullshit.

  I hoped so anyways.

  “Baby, I can handle it without a doubt and I’ve proven that. I’m just not gon’ make proving something a lifestyle when it’s not what I want to do. So don’t stand here tryna downplay me because you can’t accept change,” I told him.

  “You might keep everything real with me, but you’re not doing it with yourself. You’re too selfish to put your pride to the side so you can actually have a normal and happy life. You so scared of feeling like a bitch that you’re about to let the only person you’ve actually fallen for walk away.

  “B, when I do, when I walk out that door, it’s for good. I’m going with no regret because I’m putting myself out here for you, as always. Nobody is even around, just us, and you can’t let yo pride go for a second for me but yet I’m still standing right here. I want this, I want us to work, but I’m not gon’ keep giving you a hundred only to receive twenty in the end. Just quit, that’s all I want is for you to stop hustlin’.”

  My ass was standing there practically pleading with him. Truth be told, I wanted to be with him and someday become Mrs. Carter. I wanted to have his badass kids in the future, but I wasn’t gon’ do neither if he was still hustlin’.

  I stared, waiting on a reply. He didn’t say anything, he wasn’t even looking at me.

  “Blaze, do you love me?” That had his eyes quickly coming to mine, but still he didn’t say anything. Again, nerves set in the pit of my stomach as what I was about to say next ran constantly in my mind. “Blaze, tell me you love me and we can work past everything else. Just tell me you love me.” I moved closer to him, but as expected he stepped away from me.

  His head went back while his right hand smoothed down his waves before coming down his face.

  My hands grasped the nape of his neck, I lowered his head to mine.

  Caressing the back of his neck, my hands slowly moved up to his head, my thumbs rubbing the side of his face as our eyes locked. I stood on my tiptoes, brushing my lips against his then pressing our lips together, lightly grabbing at his top lip.

  “I wanna hear you say you love me.” Still he said nothing. “Blaze, nobody is here but us.” Looking away from me, he said nothing. Sighing with a shake of my head, I let him go. Slowly, I walked backwards, away from him and towards the door.

  “Peaches, I don’t wanna hurt you.” He finally spoke and it was to say that.

  “I’m not hurt, just disappointed because you can have so much if you just let yourself.” My head shook. “Bye, Blaze.” After getting my purse I left the doctor’s office and went to my car.

  I stood outside of my car for a bit, waiting on Blaze to come out. But after a few minutes of not showing, I started to get in my car until a black Charger pulled into the lot. The car came to a stop in front of me before a man got out.

  “Peaches Johnson?” It came out as a question. I didn’t know who he was, he didn’t look familiar at all.

  “Yeah, who are you?” I asked slowly as I stood halfway in my car.

  “I’m Detective Poke.” Immediately my mind went to King thinking something happened if a police was coming to my job looking for me.

  “Did something happen—” He shook his head and I stopped what I was saying. “What’s this about?”

  “I’m investigating the death of Ronald Hicks. I’m talking to everyone who’s came in contact with him around the time and on the day of his death. You saw Hicks earlier that day—”

  “I’m sorry, who is Ronald Hicks?” It wasn’t until after I asked the question that it dawned on me who he was.

  Detective Poke stared at me for a second before talking. “Would you mind coming down to the precinct and answering a few questions.”

  I just told this man I didn’t know who the hell Hicks was but he still want me to go down to the station?

  But I wanted to find out what they knew. Plus, if I did decline, that might make it seem like I had something to hide, which I didn’t. Looking at my watch, it was just now turning three, forty-five.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll follow you down," I told him. I got in my car and started it up. I glanced at the doctor’s office once more, still not seeing Blaze. I was tempted to go back in there, but I meant what I said. Once I walked out the door, there was no looking back.

  I was going forward.

  ***

  “Oh, yeah, he did my hair,” I said, looking at the picture of Ronald. I knew he wasn’t right the moment he asked about Blaze. No one asked questions for no reason. And with
him saying what Blaze only did when he came there told me that Ronald had been watching him every time he went in that shop.

  “So you do know Ronald?” He stated and I shook my head.

  “No, I didn’t know him personally. He just did my hair once. It wasn’t like we had a conversation, he told me his name as he was doing my hair, that’s as far as me knowing him goes,” I explained before remembering something. “Oh, he gave me his number and told me he made house calls just in case I needed a touch up.” Nodding, he wrote something down.

  “And your boyfriend had no problem with him giving you his number?” Detective Poke questioned.

  “No, why would he? It’s not like he was trying to talk to me. Well, I didn’t get the impression he was trying to. It was just friendly,” I explained nonchalantly as my phone started ringing. “Do you mind?” I asked him as I took my phone out of my pocket.

  “No, go ahead,” he said, standing up. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No thanks,” I replied with a head shake and he returned the gesture with a nod before leaving. “Hey you?” I answered with a small smile.

  “What’s up? Where you at?” Ron asked.

  “I’m at the police station.”

  “What happened? Are you okay— Did he do something to you?” Hearing the hostility in voice, I laughed.

  “Jerron, calm down, I’m fine. I’ll tell you what’s going on later. We should be finishing up here in a bit. Okay.” His concern had me smiling into the phone.

  “You sure you’re okay? Should I come up there?”

  That damn man was going to worry himself into a heart attack, it seemed like all he did is worry about me. I wasn’t complaining though, it was actually cute.

  “Bae, I’m fine. I promise you don’t have to come up here, I’m not hurt or anything. I’ll call you back when I’m done here.”

  Ron sighed into the phone. “I’ight, call me once you’re in your car.”

  Laughing, I nodded my head. “Okay, bye.” Hanging up, I shook my head. “That man,” I said out loud, half way sure someone was on the other side of the two way mirror watching me. Just as that thought entered my head, Detective Poke walked back in with a folder.

  Mentally I rolled my eyes knowing the real reason I was approached was about to be revealed.

  Chapter 37

  Peaches

  “Miss Johnson—”

  “Peaches, you can call me Peaches.”

  “What’s your relationship with Blaze Carter?” Poke asked, ignoring my request.

  Why did I have a feeling his name was going to come up when he asked Blaze’s reaction about me getting Ronald’s number?

  “Nothing now. We dated then broke up, that’s it. Why?” I questioned as he sat a can of Sprite in front of me.

  “Thought you might be thirsty,”

  I’m wasn’t dumb enough to touch or drink from anything they gave me. I knew that he was only tryna soften me up. He opened the folder file and took out three photos, sitting them in front of me.

  “Your boyfriend did that. I have a witness who saw him go into the house. He shot and killed this man when he opened the door then proceeded to kill this one before going up the stairs, kicking in this man’s door and shooting him at least twenty times. Twice in the head, but you already knew that, right?”

  This man is out his gotdamn mind.

  “No, I didn’t—”

  “I’m going to keep it straight with you, Miss. Johnson, your boyfriend’s in a lot of trouble—”

  “I’m sorry, Detective Poke, but I have nothing to do with what my ex may or may not have done. Now if you’re charging me with something then let me know so I can call my lawyer and we can discuss whatever it is you’re charging me with. If not, then I think I answered all the questions you wanted to know regarding Ronald Hicks.” I said calmly.

  His ass didn’t have shit, it was all assumptions because if they did they’d have Blaze’s black ass, not me. I wasn’t going to be bullied into admitting anything. Hell, I didn’t know shit.

  “Only guilty people call for a lawyer—”

  “Only desperate detectives call in a man’s ex’s in hopes of getting her to say some off the wall type stuff about the man she’s no longer with. And only desperate detectives try bullying her into thinking she’s accessory of some sort. I’m neither. Sorry, Detective Poke, but I can’t and won’t do your job for you. Now, are you charging me with something or not?” I asked, holding my phone out, my finger hovering over the number two, ready to speed dial my brother if I needed too.

  “You’re not being charged with anything. I’m just asking you a few questions. Do you recognize any one of these people?” He asked, adding more pictures of dead people on the table. Some of the folks in the pictures weren’t even recognizable. Half of the photos were just nasty and I found myself wanting gag. Hell, I think I did maybe twice before looking away from the pictures.

  He laid about fifteen photos down and out of all fifteen maybe five of the dead people had faces, but a hole was in the middle of their foreheads. Some looked like they had acid poured over their bodies with several gaping holes in either to their face or chest. The others were burnt, but no telling what they went through before their bodies were set on fire.

  “No, I don’t recognize any of them. Are we done here?” I asked, standing up until he dropped another picture down of a woman.

  “Her name is Leslie. She was a witness that testified against Mr. Carter back in 2010. About ten months ago she was found in her car, a hole in her head. Just like every other picture on this table the victim was shot in the head. That’s his M.O. Her two year old is now an orphan, we don’t have proof, but I’m sure Blaze killed her once he got out.

  “It was a week after he was released that we found her. I’m not trying to psych you out or use the accessory technic. I’m just trying to make you see who you’re with. From what I was told, Leslie was a sweet girl in school doing everything right until she met Blaze. Now look at her.” Leslie was a beautiful brown skinned girl with big, pretty dark brown eyes and long brown hair to match her youthful face.

  Her dying was tragic, no doubt, but that was not the reason that had me stopping to catch my breath. No, it was the little boy she was holding.

  His familiar light brown eyes, round face, slightly crooked nose and his neutral smile. The similarities… I couldn’t see the mother anywhere in that child…

  “She used to date Blaze?” It came out a mumble as I stared at the photo a few seconds longer before flipping it over, not able to look at that baby no more.

  “Yeah she did. But she left him and came to see me. She saw him leaving a house that was on fire, Blaze was the only one who walked out alive. Once the fire was put out six bodies were found in that house. Her testimony helped in the case. I promised we’d keep her safe and we did for two years. Then came April 18th.

  “I called to let her know he was out, but didn’t get a response. A week later she was found in her car. Two months ago her mother died, now that baby belongs to the state, stuck in some orphanage downtown because of your boyfriend.” Detective Poke stepped closer to me while reaching for the photo. He grabbed it and pressed it to my chest.

  “Prison serves no justice for someone like him. I’m going to bury his ass this time. When we get him it’s the death penalty or life. He killed a cop and with his body count no jury would argue otherwise,” he stated, his hot breath blowing across my face, that’s how close he was to me. “You’ve noticed the similarities—”

  “Are we done now?” Pushing my purse up my shoulder, I stepped around him. “We’re not together so his problems aren’t mine and I’d gladly like it if you kept me out of it. Next time you have a question for me, here’s my lawyer’s number. Anita Walker, call her first then she’ll call me.” I wrote down the number King gave me so many years ago, the number he practically drilled into my head.

  “We’re done. You can take the picture, I know you see the resembla
nce,” Detective Poke picked, making me roll my eyes at him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it was nice meeting you, Detective Coke—”

  “It’s Poke—”

  “I don’t care, bye.” Pushing the door open to the interrogation room, I left. I could literally feel him on my heels as I walked down the hall.

  “Blake Rashad Carter,” he called from behind me.

  I turned to face him. “What?” I asked dumbly.

  “That’s the baby’s name if you were wondering,” he informed me.

  If I didn’t get my ass out of that police station fast my cool demeanor was going to crumble. The burning in my throat had already started and I could feel the tears coming.

  “I wasn’t. As I said, that has nothing to do with me.” It should’ve been true, but I couldn’t shake the hurt feeling.

  “But it does. You think you’re done now. Who’s to say that you won't end up with the same fate as Leslie? Think about it.” Pushing the photo to me, he turned and walked away. Turning around, I couldn’t have gotten my ass out of there fast enough.

  Once my car started, I threw it in drive and peeled out of the lot with screeching tires, By the time I made it to the third stop light my eyes were so blurry. I could barely see as tears continuously run down my face.

  Finally, I managed to pull over into a strip mall, I parked and just cried. Give or take, Blaze really killed that chick which I wouldn’t put pass him. But that baby? That baby was a replica of him and seeing that hurt so much.

  Blaze had never even mentioned having a kid or a girl that he actually liked so much that he had a fuckin’ baby with. Then again it’s probably not even his.

  Who the fuck am I trying to convince when that fuckin’ baby looks just like him?

  Blaze had a baby. Did he even know?

  How could he kill that baby’s mother knowing she had a kid? Was he really that heartless that he’d leave his child abandoned?