Collusion

by De'nesha Diamond

  “And don’t forget about the blood,” Abrianna said. “She’s covered in it.”

  “You’re going to get a lot of questions about the time discrepancy,” Kadir warned.

  “I was knocked out,” Abrianna defended.

  “You mean you were high,” Kadir corrected.

  Their gazes crashed.

  Ghost interrupted the brewing argument. “Still. If you are able to convince this reporter to run the story, a lot of heat is going to come her way. They’ll want her source—probably will throw her in jail in order to get to you. Do you think that she’ll be able to handle it, or are you ready to turn yourself in and trust the system?”

  Abrianna bore the weight of everyone’s stare. “I don’t have a choice,” she said. “This is the only card I have to play.”

  Ghost shifted his attention to Kadir. “What about you, bruh? Are you turning yourself in, too? None of this shit clears your names from that bombing.”

  Kadir pulled a breath and evaluated his situation. No way in hell did he trust the government. They were likely to toss his ass back into a cell, revoke his parole, and forget about him for a couple of decades.

  Abrianna placed a hand over his, and he would almost swear that he heard her plea inside of his head. Please. It’s time to stop running.

  Kadir looked at her and then back at the waiting group.

  Sighing, he dropped his head. “This shit gotta end some kind of way. May as well toss the dice now rather than later. Right?”

  11

  Zeke was smoking again. Damn it.

  He had given up the bad habit years ago—when Tanya told him that she hated the taste of cigarettes when she kissed him, hated the smell that clung to his clothes and hair.

  “Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes,” the preacher finished, closing the Bible.

  After the circle of mourners mumbled “Amen,” Zeke watched as the top-of-the-line chrome casket that Zeke had paid a knot of cash for was lowered into the ground. The turnout was good. Tanya’s working girls, recent and retirees, had traveled from far and wide to pay final respects to the woman who’d helped many of them to get through college, raise families, support aging parents, or simply become financially secure.

  Zeke was sure that Tanya was pleased by the turnout. She was likely smiling down on her family of outcasts right now.

  Fuck. Zeke rubbed at the tightness in his chest and wondered why the hell his throat kept closing off his air pipe.

  The crowd thinned as, one by one, the mourners tossed red roses down into the open plot atop Tanya’s casket and then marched in a single file line back toward their vehicles.

  Zeke lingered, pretending not to feel the sting at the back of his eyes. This shit hurt worse than he’d ever imagined. Hell. He’d lost muthafuckas before. Almost all of the homeboys he grew up with were either six feet under or shipped off to a concrete plantation. He had ex-girlfriends who’d overdosed, got sliced up while on hoe patrol, and one he’d put a bullet in the center of her head when he’d caught her stealing from him. However, none of them had him in his feelings the way he was right now.

  Only one thing could fix this shit—and that was getting his hands on Abrianna Parker.

  Sensing a set of eyes burning a hole into his head, Zeke looked over his shoulder and noticed one of Tanya’s top earners: Angel. He was fairly sure that was her name. She stood morose and alone by the open grave, eyeballing him up and down.

  He liked her look. She was a tall stunner with Coke-bottle curves and mesmerizing hazel eyes.

  He signaled Defoe, and when the large bodyguard leaned forward, Zeke gave him instructions.

  Defoe nodded and then strolled over to Angel and repeated Zeke’s words.

  Without lip or attitude, Angel fell in line behind Defoe and followed him over to Zeke.

  “Hello, Angel. Thank you for coming out today.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Tanya always spoke highly of you.”

  Angel’s eyes swam with tears as she shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s all my fault.”

  Zeke frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Angel glanced away, shaking her head.

  Zeke drew a breath but calculated that this situation was best handled with patience. He stood firm and handed her a handkerchief. He watched her cry for a full minute before he repeated the question. “What do you mean that you feel like this is all your fault?”

  Angel sniffed and lifted her chin. “I told Abrianna about her friend in the hospital. He’d sent a private investigator to talk to Madam Nevaeh the other day.”

  Zeke stiffened. “You saw Abrianna Parker recently?”

  Angel nodded. “She was camped out at Madam Nevaeh’s last place with that guy that’s all over the news.”

  Zeke’s face heated.

  Angel added, “They held me at gunpoint and then left me tied in a chair. It took nearly two days to free myself from that house.”

  “That’s it?”

  Angel nodded. “It’s enough, isn’t it? I know Abrianna had something to do with Madam’s death. I know it.”

  Zeke’s mind zoomed to Abrianna’s friend who Roach and Gunner had left bleeding in her apartment. “Do you remember this friend’s name?”

  “Shawn,” she said. “I met him when Abrianna came to the estate the first time.”

  Zeke nodded. “I appreciate you telling me this information. I’ll check into it. See what we see and then let the chips fall where they may.”

  * * *

  The Bunker

  “Hey, guys,” one of Ghost’s guys spoke up and broke their private huddle.

  “What’s up, Wendell?” Ghost asked.

  “Wasn’t your friend’s restaurant called La Plume?”

  Abrianna, Draya, and Julian looked at one another.

  “Why?” Kadir asked.

  “There has been a lot of traffic about the place recently. They found the stolen van the other day with a body in it. They haven’t released a name—and now there are reports about some guy at the restaurant being found by some ex-cop all beaten up.”

  “What?”

  Wendell continued, “Yeah. He is in the hospital and is listed in critical condition.”

  “No,” Abrianna gasped, rushing to Wendell’s cluttered space to see what was on the screen.

  “Tivonté,” Abrianna gasped. “It’s gotta be.”

  “A black SUV was seen speeding from the premises says one witness and caused a five car pile-up in front of the place.” Abrianna shook her head. This can’t be happening. All of her friends were getting hurt.

  “We need to go,” she said, bolting away from the computer.

  Kadir blocked her path. “Wait. What? What about the meeting with the reporter?”

  “I-it can wait. We can reschedule.” She attempted to move around him, but he refused to budge.

  “Move. Or I’ll move you,” she threatened.

  “I have no doubt that you can, but I have to stress that you’re not thinking clearly. We need to end this. Tonight. I’m sorry about your friend, but you can’t help him right now. But you can end this nightmare about Judge Sanders and that dead congressman tonight. Only then will you and your friends be out of danger.”

  Abrianna glared, but since she didn’t shove him into another wall, he went on, “A few minutes ago, you were saying you wanted your life back. Well, this is how you do it.”

  “He’s right,” Draya said. “You go and meet the reporter, and Julian and I will check on Tivonté and Shawn.”

  “You will?”

  Draya nodded. “Of course. It’s too much of a risk for you to sneak into a hospital again. You can’t flake out on that reporter. We got this. Don’t we, Julian?”

  “Absolutely. You go in.”

  After a long moment, Abrianna relented. “All right. But tell him . . . I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  Julian wrapped an arm around her. “Of course you didn’t.”

  Ghost spoke up
. “We’re going to need a change of plan.”

  Kadir pivoted. “What do you mean?”

  “Follow me.” Ghost and his crew marched into another hidden room inside the bunker and then made a beeline toward a robust armory.

  “The hell?” Abrianna marveled, entering behind him and Kadir. “Look at all of this. What are you preparing for—an alien invasion?”

  “Wow,” Draya said, pulling up the rear with Julian.

  “Yo, man. I think that I may need to stage an intervention,” Kadir bristled as he made a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn in the armed room. “You have crossed over to the dark side. Ghost, what the hell is all of this for?”

  Ghost ignored the question and unlocked the top drawer of a steel cabinet. Inside was a cache of handguns. He reached for his baby: a .45-mm Wilson Combat Tactical Supergrade. “Ah. Come to daddy.” He kissed the barrel and beamed.

  Abrianna and Kadir exchanged worried looks. The whole scene had the feeling of a bad vigilante film.

  “Uh, is all of this necessary?” Kadir asked, forcing humor into his voice. “We’re meeting a reporter in a park, not in Aleppo.”

  Ghost holstered the weapon and then put the metal box back into the steel drawer. “It could be a trap. You don’t think that I’m going to let my buddy walk into a potential ambush, do you?”

  Abrianna’s gaze boomeranged around the glass-and-metal cabinets that housed a variety of military-grade weapons that would give an invading army pause.

  “Your girl has already admitted that this reporter chick ain’t exactly trustworthy. We might find ourselves in another hostile situation. Best to be prepared than not.”

  “That’s not what I said,” Abrianna corrected.

  Ghost moved to an angry looking assault weapon hanging on a display wall. “It’s really kind of a yes or no question. Either you trust this chick or you don’t.” He sliced his gaze toward Abrianna. “Which is it?”

  Kadir did the same.

  Under pressure, Abrianna bore the weight of their stares before sticking to the truth. “I don’t trust her.”

  “There. You see? May as well go prepared this time. Or do you want to be in another situation where muthafuckas are shooting and the only thing that you can do is duck?”

  Abrianna and Kadir shot glances at each other again; neither knew what to say when the crazy person made sense.

  “I got the perfect li’l baby for you, Ms. Parker.” Ghost strapped the assault weapon around his shoulders and marched over to another cabinet.

  Abrianna eyed him wearily as he pulled out a Tiffany-blue handgun.

  Ghost informed her, “This is a Glock 21 .45 caliber. Now I’m not crazy about vanity weapons—after all, a gun is a tool and not an accessory. But come here and see if you like the fit and weight in your hand.”

  Abrianna moved next to Ghost and took the gun. She wasn’t a novice. She recognized the quality of the piece the second it was in her hand.

  “Yeah. You like that, don’t you?” Ghost gloated, watching her light up.

  “It’s all right.” She shrugged, downplaying her approval.

  “Uh-huh.” Ghost looked at Kadir. “Don’t worry. I got something for you, too.”

  “Nah. That’s all right, bruh. I’m good.”

  Ghost frowned. “So you’re cool with an ambush then?”

  “We don’t know it’s an ambush. Besides, I still got my piece.”

  “You mean that piece of shit you got from some junkie? How much did that put you back, ten dollars?”

  “Funny. It’s solid and it works when I pull the trigger. That’s all that matters. Besides, I’m not supposed to even have that. I’m still on parole, remember?”

  Everyone laughed.

  Ghost said, “It’s safe to say that you’ve fucked that shit up when you went viral playing Bonnie and Clyde on the Internet. You may as well go out blazing with a pair of gasoline drawers on now.”

  Kadir grinned, but shook his head.

  “C’mon. I know you’re tempted, a sharpshooter like yourself? The itch never leaves your system. It’ll take you back to our old military days.”

  “What?” Abrianna’s attention shifted to Kadir. “When were you in the military?”

  Kadir shrugged. “In another life.”

  Ghost laughed. “My man here has had nine lives. Don’t let him fool you.”

  Baffled, Abrianna stared. “I don’t remember you ever mentioning your being in the military.”

  “Surely you’re not on my case about my not sharing my whole life story?”

  “Ouch.” Ghost mumbled, dropping out of the conversation.

  Abrianna jutted up her chin, but conceded his point. She certainly knew a whole hell of a lot more about him than he knew about her.

  “My bad,” she said, dropping the subject.

  Ghost tagged back in. “Actually, me and your boy met in the army.”

  “He’s not my boy,” Abrianna corrected, but regretted how petty she sounded.

  “Well, whatever your complicated Facebook status is, Kadir and I met on our first tour in Afghanistan. We had more than our fair share of death-defying moments. Kadir saved more lives than I can count with his shooting. No wonder T4S ran to recruit him like an NFL draft pick.”

  “Oh, really?” Abrianna said, impressed. “T4S—where have I heard that name before?”

  Ghost laughed. “It’s the same company he went to prison for hacking.”

  “What the hell, man?” Kadir snapped. “Are you writing my autobiography?”

  Ghost cheesed, but tossed up his hands. “You’re right, man. My bad. Diarrhea of the mouth.”

  Abrianna said, “I enjoyed it. It was . . . illuminating.”

  “I bet you did,” Kadir countered. “Anything you care to illuminate to us about yourself?”

  Abrianna’s grin turned into a smirk.

  “Yeah,” Kadir laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

  Draya sighed. “Can we please get back to the matter at hand? What’s the plan?”

  “You’re right.” Ghost got serious. “Okay. This is the plan . . .”

  * * *

  At midnight, Abrianna and Kadir were hunched low in the backseat of Roger’s black Cherokee a block away from Stanton Park. Ghost and the rest of the crew kept radioing their positions in and around the park scanning for cops and federal agents. So far, the coast was clear when Tomi entered.

  “Is that her?” Kadir asked.

  Abrianna nodded and kept her gaze leveled on Tomi while she talked on a cell phone.

  “Still think that you can trust her?”

  Abrianna sighed. “There you go with that word trust again.”

  “You know what I mean. Do you think she’ll print our story?”

  “How could she not—sex, drugs, and murder on Capitol Hill? Hell, I’m practically handing her a Pulitzer Prize.”

  Roger informed Ghost, “We have a positive ID on the reporter entering the park. Does anyone spot a tail?”

  Ghost’s voice rumbled over the Roger’s walkie-talkie, “All clear.”

  Abrianna nodded, but didn’t move.

  “Are you ready?” Kadir asked.

  Abrianna bit her bottom lip. She had no idea why she was stalling.

  Kadir whispered. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  Closing her eyes against the nice sensations his warm breath caused on the back of her neck, she admitted, “A lot is at stake.”

  Kadir nodded and then waited with her in the dead silence. After a while, his gaze crept back toward her. “You know if you don’t want to do this—”

  “I do,” Abrianna said. “I have to clear my name. I don’t want to be on the run from the federal government for the rest of my life. You?”

  “It wasn’t in my latest life plans. No.”

  “But?”

  Kadir sighed. “But . . . I know how the government works. Once we come forward, we’re not likely going to be met with open arms. Too many careers depend on this c
ountry being tough on crime. Now that we’re labeled as a couple of terrorists, they’re not going to want to admit they got it wrong.”

  “I get that,” Abrianna said, her stomach twisted into one more knot. “But this is the only real chance we have. I’m hoping my . . . history with Tomi will afford us at least one ally.”

  “What is your history with this reporter? How do you two know each other?”

  Abrianna pulled another breath and suppressed the old memories. “It’s a long story,” she responded.

  Kadir frowned but didn’t push.

  “All right,” she said suddenly. “Let’s get this over with.”

  They scrambled out of the car and headed to the park.

  * * *

  Sitting on a bench in in the middle of the night, Tomi reevaluated her sanity. Why was she waiting alone to meet a woman who was wanted for murder? Was a story really worth this? Had she learned nothing about putting herself in vulnerable positions? Maybe I have a death wish.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Abrianna said.

  Tomi’s hands flew to the gun tucked at her hip.

  “Whoa. Whoa.” Abrianna pulled the Tiffany-blue .45. “It’s cool. It’s just me, Abrianna . . . and my friend Kadir.” She gestured to the man to her right who also held a weapon leveled at Tomi’s head.

  Tomi lifted a brow at the strikingly handsome guy with smoldering dark eyes. The images on the news didn’t do him justice. “You two have me at a disadvantage. I thought we were trusting each other, Abrianna?”

  There was a long silence before Abrianna lowered her weapon.

  Kadir followed her lead.

  Tomi’s hand drifted away from the weapon. The enormity of the situation struck her hard. “You’re the guy who blew up the airport,” she said.

  Kadir shook his head. “I’m the guy they’re claiming helped bomb the airport. I didn’t.”

  Tomi arched a brow. “So it’s a misunderstanding? What about the video they keep playing on a loop?”

  “I’m an Uber driver. I dropped off two customers at the airport, helped them unload their bags, and got a big tip. End of story. I had no idea that they were going to blow up the damn place.”

  “Then why didn’t you turn yourself in and explain?”