We both reclined in the water, listening to the music, our eyes closed. Marcus’s arms stroked my arms lazily in the water as he planted soft kisses on the top of my head.
“Thank you, Vanessa,” Marcus said.
“For what?” I asked, relaxing deeper into his embrace, seduced by the smell of the lavender, Jill’s voice, and the warm water.
“For this. For us. For everything.” His hands suddenly lifted me up and turned me around to face him. He pulled my mouth down to his as his other arm encircled my waist, keeping our bodies pressed together in the warm water. My tongue hungrily danced around his as I tasted crisp peppermint and a hint of coffee in his warm wet mouth.
I could feel him swelling beneath me as he pressed my body into his and began to kiss me again. One of his hands tangled in my hair as he held my mouth firmly on his. He kissed me deeply as if he wanted to taste every corner. I kissed him back just as passionately and ground my hips into his.
Suddenly, a voice we both loved could be heard outside the door.
“Mommy, are you in there? I’m hungry.” Marcus and I both laughed at the sound of our son’s voice interrupting our lovemaking.
“We’ll continue this later,” I said as I took one last nibble on Marcus’s lower lip before stepping out of the tub and wrapping my wet body in the large peach bath sheet hanging on the wall.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Marcus said with a frustrated chuckle as he sank deeper into the water.
“You better,” I tossed over my shoulder as I turned the knob to let our son into the bathroom.
CHAPTER 30
Laila
The small chrome gun felt light in my hands as I raised it and aimed the muzzle at the man seated in my living room.
“What are you doing, Laila?” Darryl exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. “Are you crazy? You don’t point a loaded gun unless you plan to use it.”
“Maybe I am planning to use it,” I retorted as I lowered the weapon and turned the gun over, inspecting it closely. Darryl walked over to me and took the gun away, ejecting the magazine.
“I’ll put that back in when you’re ready to leave,” he said sarcastically as he sat back down in the chair.
“What are you so scared of? You know I’d never hurt you.” I walked over to Darryl and, sitting on his lap, hugged him.
“Yeah, but there are lots of people who have gotten their heads blown off because someone was playing around. I don’t play with guns. Now, what time are you meeting Kareem?”
“He told me to meet him at six o’clock,” I said as I hopped off his lap and went over to the bar to mix myself a drink.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Darryl asked.
“I’ll be fine. Besides, we can’t hide you in the closet again if he’s already there. I’ll have your little friend with me. You can put the gun over there with my purse and my trench coat.”
I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use the gun tonight but was prepared if I did. I had been glad to finally hear from him. We had a lot to talk about, and from the tone in his messages, it seemed like he wanted to pick up where we had left off. He was going to have to agree to do things my way or suffer the unfortunate consequences. That had been the order that had come down. But I was hoping there was still a way for me to get what I wanted, and I was determined that Kareem was going to help me.
CHAPTER 31
Vanessa
As the three of us left the small Italian restaurant, we saw that a large crowd had gathered outside. Fans cheered for Marcus and snapped photos with their cell phones and clamored for autographs. Going out for an early dinner before Marcus headed to practice had been a last-minute decision, so we hadn’t brought Tyson and Bruce. After signing a few autographs for fans counting on Marcus to take the Gladiators to the championship, he ducked into the waiting SUV and slid in next to Damon and me. Alex pulled slowly away from the curb of cheering fans.
Damon chatted excitedly with his dad on the way home as the car made its way back downtown.
“Can I wait up for you tonight, Daddy?” Damon asked, hoping his father would let him skip his strict seven thirty bedtime to play some more video games. Marcus and I looked at each other and smiled over our son’s head, both thinking about the promise we had made to each other to pick up where we left off in the bathroom earlier this afternoon.
“Not tonight, little man,” Marcus said. “You’ve got a big day at school tomorrow, so you’ve got to go to sleep.”
“Can’t I just stay up this one time, please?” he begged, looking up at his father. I knew it was my turn to be bad cop, and I was more than happy to do so since I had plans for his father later on. I told him that his father had said no and that he could stay up late another night or I would even take him to practice one night. He seemed to like that idea and settled back into his seat for the rest of the short ride home.
Once we were home, Marcus changed his clothes quickly so that he could head out the door for the special late-night practice. It was unusual for the team to practice in the evenings, but with the championship within reach, Marcus said the coach wanted them to run some new plays and sharpen their defense.
“Promise you’ll wait up for me,” Marcus said as he leaned over and kissed me while I stood in the kitchen making Damon’s lunch for school.
“Promise me you won’t sap all your energy on the court tonight and that you’ll have enough for me later,” I said, popping one of the strawberries into his mouth that I was cutting up to put in a sandwich bag.
“You know I will,” he said as he smiled. The door closed behind him. I finished preparing Damon’s lunch and then walked to his bedroom to ask Nicole to get him ready for his bath.
“You can leave as soon as you’re done, Nicole,” I said, eager to have the apartment to myself so that I could set the mood for Marcus’s return.
A few minutes later the intercom buzzed, announcing that we had a visitor. The doorman said Alex, our driver, needed to drop something off. I told him to send him up and opened the door to await his arrival.
“Hi, Mrs. King,” Alex said as he came off the elevator and approached the door. “Sorry, to disturb you, but I think Mr. King left his phone in the car when I dropped him off at practice, so I wanted to leave it here in case he needed it tonight.”
“Yep, that’s his phone. Thank you, Alex,” I said, taking the BlackBerry from him and closing the door behind him. As I walked down the hallway, the phone vibrated with an incoming text. Before I could stop myself, I looked down at the phone to see who the message was from. As the initials LJ popped up on the screen, I felt my legs give out, and I crumpled onto the floor in the hallway. Laila James.
Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach. My face flushed hot with blinding rage, and my hands were shaking as I tried to push the buttons to pull up the message.
See you soon, baby. Wet and ready . . .
As I pulled up the screen to show their entire exchange, I banged my head against the wall. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have believed him? I could see it had all been a lie as I read their entire exchange, which had started while we were all together at dinner:
LJ: Me so horny. See U soon?
Marcus: Yes. Can’t wait. Trying to get away.
LJ: Where?
Marcus: Four Seasons. Our suite. 6:00. Be ready for me.
LJ: Always ready for U. Luv U! Been tooooo long.
Marcus: Too long for me 2. I luv U 2. I’m ready now!!!!!
LJ: What did U tell V?
Marcus: At practice . . .
LJ: She believed that????
Marcus: She believes whatever I tell her. Don’t worry about her. Worry about what I’m about to do to U!
LJ: OOOOOh. Can’t wait 2 CU!
Marcus: Be naked!
LJ: See U soon, baby. Wet and ready!!!!<
br />
As I sat in a heap on the floor with my back up against the wall and reread the text exchange between Marcus and Laila, the red-hot fury continued to build. I felt like someone had reached inside my body and ripped my heart out of my chest. It had all been a lie. Everything he said in Phoenix about never seeing her again. Everything he said in the hospital about making it up to me. Everything he said in Dr. Gordon’s office week after week about changing his life. It had all been a fucking lie.
I stumbled to my feet and threw the phone hard against the wall, watching it shatter, and then turned and ran into our bedroom. I pulled open the door to Marcus’s closet, my eyes scanning the racks of neatly hung clothes, the shelves of gleaming shoes and fresh sneakers. I walked to the back of the closet and dropped down on my knees. Feeling back into the deep recesses of the closet underneath the hanging shirts, I felt the cold metal box. I pulled the safe out into the middle of the floor. My hands still shaking, I tried the combination, which was Damon’s birthday. The first time it didn’t work. Wiping my hands on my pants, I told myself to calm down. I slowly turned the dial and tried the combination again. The lights flashed on the display, and the door swung open. Pushing aside our passports, some insurance papers, and a stack of cash, I reached into the box for the gun.
Pulling out the nine-millimeter gun that Kareem had gotten for us in Phoenix after we started to receive the threatening e-mails, I held it in one hand and reached back into the safe for the clip. I pushed it into the bottom of the gun until I heard it click into place.
CHAPTER 32
Nia
After reviewing the mock-up of the Keri Hilson cover for the latest issue of the magazine, I turned back to my computer and pulled up Kalinda’s Facebook page again. It had been hard to stay focused on work today. I looked intently at the photo of the once-vibrant cheerleader, wishing her image would start talking to me so that I could figure out why Diablo Negro had Carlo kill her.
“You still staring at the dead girl?” MJ said, strolling into my office and placing some layouts in my overflowing in-box. I filled him in on what Terrence had shared about Kareem’s possible connection to Diablo Negro.
“Diablo Negro? If he’s mixed up with those guys, he’s in some serious shit.”
“What do you mean? And how do you even know?”
“Girl, please. Those guys are bad news. I watch Lester Holt on Dateline. I know.”
“Oh, really,” I said, only half listening to my crazy assistant as I picked up the layout of next week’s cover story on Rihanna and began to mark the pages up with my pen. “And what exactly did Lester Holt say about Diablo Negro?”
“I know you’re not really listening, but I’m going to tell you anyway. So about a month ago, me and Ricardo were watching a story on Dateline about this guy—”
“So this is what you and your boyfriend do on Friday nights?” I said, cutting him off and laughing. “You guys sit up in bed watching Dateline?”
“Look, I know now that you and Terrence are all lovey-dovey again and he’s giving it to you on the regular, but I know you aren’t trying to mock me. Whatever. Just listen to my story, dang. So, anyway, they had this story on about the Diablo cartel, but what was fascinating was the family of this guy they profiled had gone into hiding because their son had gotten mixed up with Diablo over some sports betting the kid had set up at some college down south. Anyway, the boy owed them like a ton of money, and the family had scraped it together somehow to pay Diablo, but then the cartel said they had to keep paying regardless. The family didn’t have any more money, so the kid took off running, and the Diablos came to the family and said they had to keep paying. When they refused, a couple of days later they found the boy’s sister in the trunk of a car all carved up. The reporter said that was one of the things that made this gang so vicious was that once you were tied to them, that was it. You, your family, whoever—you were bound for life.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, looking up from my layout. “So if that’s true, then maybe with all the talk about Marcus’s possible one-hundred-fifty-million-dollar contract with the Gladiators, Kareem tried to pull away, and Diablo sent him a message by killing Kalinda.”
“That sounds like their style,” MJ said.
“That still doesn’t explain why they would go after Vanessa. And now what happens to someone like Kareem who no longer has access to the money he was paying Diablo?” As soon as I asked the question, a cold chill ran down my spine. I didn’t want to hear MJ’s answer.
“Well, my guess would be that Diablo is going to find a way to get their money regardless. Those Diablo guys never back off. Kareem will have to find a way to get their money, or Marcus will.”
I grabbed my phone off the desk, dialed Vanessa’s cell number, and put the call on speaker while I threw my things into my handbag. After the call went straight to voice mail, I tried the house phone.
“Hello, King residence,” a woman’s voice answered.
“Hello, Nicole?” I asked. “This is Nia. Is Vanessa there?” Please God let her be there.
“No, I’m sorry. She just rushed out.”
“Is Marcus there?”
“No, I think Mr. King is at practice.”
“Did Vanessa say where she was going?”
“No, not really but . . .” The nanny’s voice trailed off. I could tell she wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure if she should.
“What is it, Nicole? What were you about to say?”
“Well, it’s just that she looked really upset when she left. Like she had been crying. She asked me to stay with Damon until she returned.”
“Are you sure she didn’t say anything about where she was going? Please, Nicole, try to remember. It’s important.”
“I thought I heard her mumble something about catching somebody at the Four Seasons as she headed out the door.”
I thanked Nicole and told her to tell Vanessa to call me right away if she came back to the apartment.
“What do you need me to do?” MJ asked as he got my coat from the closet and handed it to me.
“Call Terrence and tell him to meet me at the Four Seasons right now,” I said as I threw my khaki trench coat on over my dress and grabbed my handbag. “I’m not exactly sure what’s going on, but you don’t have to be Lester Holt to figure out it’s not good.”
CHAPTER 33
Vanessa
Promises were made.
Tears began to stream down my cheeks behind my sunglasses. Slipping the steel-plated gun out of my pocket, I stepped out of the shadows and raised the gun level with his broad muscled back like they taught me at the gun range in Phoenix. I could barely see his dark head as he moved up and down while thrusting into her, so I knew it would be easier to hit him in the back. I was glad I couldn’t see his face, because that might have stopped me.
I pulled the trigger twice.
After all, promises were made.
One bullet hit him in his shoulder and the other in his lower back. Laila screamed as his body slumped down on top of her. As she screamed and tried to push Marcus off her, I moved to get a better shot at her.
“No, please! No, please don’t shoot!” Laila begged, her voice quivering as she saw me step out from the shadows.
“No, Vanessa! Please, no!” She struggled to pull the bedsheet stained with his dark red blood up around her naked body. I wanted to tell her it was much too late for modesty.
I raised the gun again and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Laila right above her left eyebrow, and her head slammed back against the large leather quilted headboard with the force of the bullet. A single trail of blood began to stream down her face.
It was done.
As the enormity of what I had done started to creep into my consciousness, my body shook and I dropped the gun on the floor. A low guttural animal scream sounded as I fell onto the floor. It was me.
I had killed my husband and his mistress.
Suddenly the bedroom doors burst open. When I whirled around to see if it was the police, I saw Tyson and Bruce walking toward me. One scooped up the gun off the floor and then began to make his way over to the bed.
“No! Don’t touch him,” I screamed as he went over to the side of the bed and felt Marcus’s neck for a pulse. I tried to run over to the bed, but Tyson held me firmly around the waist and lifted me off the ground. As he carried me out of the room, I screamed for Marcus. When we reached the elevator, Tyson put me down on the ground, and, keeping his viselike arm around my waist, he shoved a hard piece of metal in my side and looked at me. His hard black eyes glinted with menace, and his lips were twisted in a snarl.
“Shut your fucking mouth. We’re walking out of this hotel. If you make one fucking sound, I’ll put a bullet in your head just like you did to Laila in there, and then I’ll go to your home and do the same to Damon. Do you understand?” Hearing my son’s name, a fresh stream of tears fell down my face, and my legs suddenly felt weak. I shook my head vigorously, my eyes wide with fear. Where was he going to take me?
The elevator arrived, and we rode down to the lobby in silence. As the doors opened, he shoved the gun hard into my side again and secured his arm around my waist.
“Now, walk through this lobby and out the front door like everything is just fine,” Tyson snarled as we began to walk across the marble floor. No one seemed to notice us, and as we passed the front desk again, Christian’s head was down, so even he didn’t see me leave the building.
We stepped outside, and he walked me over to the waiting black limousine where Alex was holding the door open. When Tyson shoved me into the backseat, I fell onto the floor of the car as he climbed in next to me. Alex quickly closed the door and then walked around to the driver’s side and got in. The car began to pull away from the hotel. I regained my balance and climbed back onto the seat when I heard another voice in the car.
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