by Stacy-Deanne
“Fuck you.” A female protestor shot him the bird.
“You’re going to jail if you don’t leave,” the manager shouted. “This is your final warning.”
“Get the mayor out here and we’ll leave,” Khadija said. “We ain’t going a damn where until we see him.”
Anderson nudged Klein. “Go get his ass, man.”
“I ain’t doing shit,” Klein said. “Let the cops handle it. Let’s go, Sonny.”
“Dude.” Anderson grabbed him. “You can’t just leave.”
“The hell I can’t. Fuck this mess.” Klein snatched Sonjay’s hand. “We’re out.”
“Wait, a minute.” Channing did a double-take as a white Tahoe drove up and parked on the street.
“Uh-uh,” Sonjay said. “Is that Daddy?”
Boyd got out his car with a sign. “Justice for Presley!” He ran to join the protestors. “Justice for Presley!”
“Oh my god,” Sonjay said. “What the hell is he doing?”
Klein shook his head.
“Daddy?” Channing shoved her way through the crowd. “Daddy!”
“Hey, Tulip.” He kissed her cheek not missing a beat with that sign. “Justice for Presley!”
“Daddy, what the hell are you doing?” Channing asked.
“Daddy, stop it,” Sonjay said. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“You and Channing should be embarrassed.” Khadija smacked gum. “We’re trying to get the man who put your niece in a hospital behind bars. What’s with your family? Someone runs over your relative and Boyd’s the only one who gives a damn?”
“Don’t bring it here, Khadija.” Sonjay got in her face. “I dress like Rodeo Drive but I throw down like Compton.”
“Stop it, Sonny.” Boyd lowered his sign. “Khadija is right. You need to be with us. Goodness, I raised you two to stand up for what’s right not be passive.”
“She’s using this to get famous.” Channing pointed to Khadija. “Why do you think she pops up whenever there’s a high-profile case but you can’t find her when she feels the news isn’t important?”
“You got nerve,” Khadija said. “It’s more important for you to cozy up in this rich ass hotel with that white man than to fight for your kid.”
Anderson groaned.
“Don’t talk to my sister like that.” Sonjay shoved Khadija. “With your SpongeBob looking ass.”
Anderson covered his grin.
“Sonjay,” Boyd snapped.
“She’s not worth it, Sonny,” Klein said. “Don’t sink to her level.”
“Yeah, you better get your woman before I throw her skinny behind across that street.”
Sonjay lunged at Khadija while Klein held her. “I wish you’d try it.”
“You better watch it, Sonjay,” Khadija said. “I’m from the D and we don’t take that.”
“I wish you’d take your lumpy ass back to the D,” Sonjay barked.
“Daddy, you can fight for Presley in other ways,” Channing said.
“You fight your way and I’ll fight mine.” He raised his head. “Until Lancaster is in jail, I’ll be on these streets marching until my feet bleed. Justice for Presley! Justice for Presley!”
“Fine. Come on, Anderson.” Channing pushed through the crowd. “I’ve had more than enough of this.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dex walked up the concrete steps of Nate’s trailer.
Nate sat behind the screen with the door open watching Days of Thunder on a floor TV from the 80s.
“Nate.” Dex opened the screen door. “What’s your problem? Your momma’s worried sick.”
He kept his attention on the movie while eating corn chips.
Dex walked in, his feet sinking into the rotted wood under the flimsy rug. “I took time out of my night to come here. Now what’s wrong?”
Nate dropped a chip, scrunched his face and tears poured.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Dex moved fast food wrappers and paper plates out of his way and sat on the coffee table. “Big guy like you, used to be the star linebacker at Mississippi State and you’re sitting here crying?” Dex clasped his hand, the diamonds sparkling on his Cartier watch. “Grow a pair, okay?”
“I got fired from the repair shop today.” Gold specks floated through his shamrock eyes. “The shop was the only thing since football that gave me purpose.” Air expanded in his cheeks, making them even larger. “I was so close to playing for the NFL.”
Dex nodded, rubbing his hands.
“Everyone loved me. This town, the mayor, the girls. NFL scouts fighting to suck my dick. One day I’m declaring going into the draft and what happens? I blow out my knee and within minutes my dream was dead. Exploded right in front of me.” He exhaled. “All I wanted was to make something of myself and show this town I was more than some bastard kid my mother got knocked up with. That even though my daddy didn’t care about me, I was still somebody.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“The point is I don’t know why I’m here.” Nate threw the chips on the floor, jerking forward in the rickety recliner. “Everyone hates me. Every day I regret what I did. She haunts me.” His eyes became glassy. “I can’t eat or sleep. Imagine that, right? Me, not eating. I close my eyes and all I see is me driving into Presley and her flying in the air. Fuck!” He jumped to his feet. “I can’t take it.”
“All right, all right.” Dex waved for him to move back. “Calm down.”
“She was on the ground.” Nate eased into the chair, staring at the floor. “Breathing so slow.”
“Wait.” Dex sat straight. “You got out and checked on her? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Would it have mattered? The people who want to hate me will hate me, anyway.”
“But, you let them believe you hit her and just left her there to die.”
“I’m not a saint but I ain’t no monster.” Nate rocked. “I didn’t wish nothing bad on that little girl.”
“People think you did this because she was black and you didn’t care.”
“I’m not racist.” He threw up his arm. “I don’t hate people.”
“But you hang around Zayden Voight and we all know how he is.”
“I can’t control him.”
“Why the hell do you wanna hang around someone like that?”
“It’s not like I got millions of friends. I can’t afford to turn away the few people on my side.”
“You don’t get it. It’s me who has to paint you as sympathetic and hope the jury buys it. You want to throw away your freedom to hang around Zayden and those losers?”
“People think what they want. Half the town hates me and want to execute me while the other half is begging me to fight.”
“Presley is the one who’s fighting because you didn’t have the balls to stay there with her.”
“I wanted to help her.” Nate closed his eyes. “I was so scared. I couldn’t be caught drinking and driving again or I’d go to jail. Besides, I knew if she died, I’d get capital murder.”
“This is bigger than Thompsonville now. It’s nationwide and you can’t hide from what you’ve done, Nate. You put a little girl in the hospital.” Dex pointed at him. “You didn’t get her any help. You left a little girl on the pavement near death. This isn’t about you, Nate. It’s about Presley. It’s about race, politics, law and order and years of systematic hardship. It’s about more than just you.”
Nate squinted.
“You think my life’s been rosy since taking this case?” Dex raised an eyebrow. “I got folks calling and emailing me all kinds of crazy shit but I ignore it because I got a job to do. I’m working my tail off for you
and my rep is getting screwed because of it. I might not get another case after this. If I can face the music, then you can.” Dex went to the door. “We’re in this together, Nate. You and me are all we got.”
“I’ll never get a fair trial here.”
“You might not get one anywhere.” Dex
opened the screen. “Welcome to the new world, Nate. Where it’s the public who decides if you win or lose.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Channing greeted Anderson with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek when he made it to her front door the next day. “I like your shirt.”
“Thanks.” He turned in the light-blue, denim garment. “Damn, you wake up looking that good?”
“Maybe.” She wiggled her hips underneath the peach, off-the-shoulder summer dress, her curves screaming through the airy material. She sat on the porch with him in the twin rocking chairs. “I’m glad you came.”
Anderson straightened the cushion in the seat, his heart racing just looking at her legs. “Guess that means you don’t hate me anymore?”
“I never hated you.” She crossed her legs at the ankles, shaking her feet in silver, rhinestone flip-flops. “I didn’t trust you at first. Everywhere I looked people wanted a piece of Presley and I wasn’t sure you were different. I know you care about her.”
He touched her hand, a tingle biting his neck. “She’s not the only one I care about.”
She exhaled, the lace of her bra showing through the material. “I wanted you to come home with me last night but after the Khadija thing, I lost the mood. I’m sorry about that.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
She loosened her hand from his. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”
“Hm.” He twisted his mouth. “You didn’t act like it at the party.”
“I want to explore this but I’m not convinced it’s the right time. I can’t let go of this guilt about Presley. How can I date you when she’s fighting for her life?”
“I’m not letting you push me aside.” He titled toward her. “We can be something special, Channing. Do you like being with me?”
She nodded, closing her eyes. “Too much.”
“You want to go somewhere with me? I’m interviewing Zayden Voight’s dad for my story.”
“Avon agreed to be interviewed?”
“Yep.” His mouth twitched. “Wanna come?”
“You want me to go to Zayden Voight’s place after he threw a rock in my window?”
“Avon promised he wouldn’t be there. Besides, I’ll protect you.”
“All right.” Channing stood, fixing her dress in the back. “Let’s go.”
****
Jackson, Mississippi
Sonjay hadn’t intended to ride out of town with Dex. He claimed he had business to take care of and she couldn’t say no to him, especially after he’d booked the renowned Saffron Hotel for the weekend.
“Here you are, Mr. Reinhardt.” The male attendant opened the door to the penthouse suite. “I hope it’s to your liking.”
“Wow,” Sonjay whispered.
Dex assured the young man they didn’t need a tour, handed the attendant a huge tip and dismissed him.
“I can’t believe I’m in the Saffron Hotel.” Sonjay took in the extravagant décor. “It’s more breathtaking in person.”
“Come here.” Dex scooped her up and carried into the double doors of the master bedroom.
Sonjay kicked, laughing. “Dex, put me down.”
“Ah!” He dumped her on the queen-sized bed and leapt beside her.
“Dex!”
He bathed her in kisses.
“Mm.” She poked his chest. “Stop.”
“Sh.” His eyes narrowed into devilish slits. “I’m gonna spend every minute inside you.”
“I told you I can’t stay the weekend.” She admired the marmalade walls sprinkled with abstract portraits. “I have a fiancé who’s expecting me back, remember?”
“I don’t give a damn.” He kissed her neck, smacking. “Make up an excuse. He trusts you.” He gave her a wet smack. “He wouldn’t think twice.”
“Down boy.” She pushed him away and walked into the magenta bathroom outlined in gold fixtures and crystal. “Dex, come see this tub.” She rushed across the copper tile and jumped into it. “You could fit twelve people in it.”
Dex grinned, leaning on the doorframe.
Sonjay hopped inside the shower and closed the glass doors. “There’s enough room in here for a football team.”
“Good. Means enough room to do it in as many positions we want.”
Sonjay touched the seashell-colored tile as she stepped out the shower. “You ever think of anything besides sex?”
“How’s Presley doing?”
“The same.”
“You still upset about me defending Nate?”
“I don’t like it.” She got the butterscotch lotion off the sink and sniffed it. “I understand why you want to do it though. You character is what I like about you the most. Want to smell it?” She held the lotion out to him. “You love butterscotch.”
A playful smile filled his lips. “I’d rather smell your pussy.”
“Ugh.” She went back to the bedroom.
“What?” He laughed, following her. “We came here to fuck. Why pretend?” He pulled her to him. “I love you, Sonny. I want to spend every moment with you.”
She put her arms on his shoulders, pushed her nose to his neck and sniffed his spicy cologne. “Sometimes I just want you to hold me.”
He hugged her, wrapping her inside his warmth. “I have a confession. I don’t have any business in Jackson. We’re here because of you.”
She played with his collar. “Me?”
He nodded, kissing her nose. “Tonight, I’ll show you how much I love you.”
“What are you talking about?”
A light grin swept away the seriousness in his face. “You’ll see.” He smacked her ass on the way to the hall. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“What?” She ran after him, grabbing his hand. “Where are you going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You begged me to come and now you’re running off?”
“Yes.” He pinched her chin. “Take a nap or something until I get back. Keep the bed warm for me.”
“Dex?”
He left.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“That’s all I have to say.” Avon limped across his living room on his cane. “I hope that everything gets back to normal around here.” He sat in the lopsided recliner. “How can a little girl could be the catalyst to so much?”
Anderson turned off the recorder of his cellphone. “I appreciate you taking part in this, Mr. Voight.”
The elderly Avon’s stare landed on Channing who sat closest to him on the couch. “I’m sorry for your pain.”
She smiled. “I appreciate that.”
“I pray for Presley every day.” His cloudy-blue eyes sunk into his wrinkled, oval face. “I’m sorry for Zayden throwing that rock in your window. I told him if he ever set foot on your property again I’d throw him out the house.”
“You’ve always been a good person, Avon. You didn’t raise Zayden to be like he’s turned out so it’s not your fault.”
“I don’t understand it. Ever since his mother passed eight years ago, he don’t care about nothing but causing trouble.” He tapped his cane on the plank floor. “Then he started hanging around Eastern Heights. The worst part of the city if you ask me.”
“Eastern Heights.” Anderson jotted the name in his pad. “That’s the area by the train station, right?”
“Not the friendliest section for black folks.” Channing nodded. “Thompsonville used to be a Sundown town and all the hate in the city hailed from Eastern Heights.”
“Thompsonville ain’t perfect but it’s home.” Avon slipped chewing tobacco in his jaw. “Only time I ever left was when I went into the navy. Served for fifteen years.”
Anderson bowed. “Thanks for your service.”
“What killed me was I risked my life for people in other nations to have freedom and rights. Then I come back here and they trying to take away black folks’ rights. Man.” Avon shook his head. “When I first come back here, I was sick to my stomach. Now to see my son spewing hate a
nd has damn near killed me.”
“I don’t understand why people stay in a place they don’t like,” Anderson said.
“We love Thompsonville,” Channing said. “It’s got a lot of warts but it’s our home.”
Anderson smiled.
“Things have gotten better through the years.” Avon spit tobacco juice in a plastic cup. “But, when Nate hit Presley, all that rot bubbled back up from the surface. The folks on Presley’s side riled up because they’re sick of what’s been going on. Then, the damn bigots in Eastern Heights, well, this has emboldened them to feel strong again.”
“I won’t stop fighting for Presley.” Channing sat erect. “I don’t care if they try to intimidate me. Nate Lancaster has hurt me in a way no one could. They can harass me, throw bricks through all my windows, everything.” She looked at Anderson’s sympathetic face. “As someone special told me, this is bigger than me.”
Anderson took her hand.
“Pop?”
The backdoor slammed.
“Ah, hell it’s Zayden.” Avon spit again and grabbed his cane.
“Come on.” Channing yanked on Anderson’s hand for him to get up but he remained on the couch.
“We’re not going anywhere. This is Mr. Voight’s home, and he invited us.”
“Fine.” Channing hurried to the door. “I don’t wanna be in the same room with—”
“What the hell is this?” Zayden trudged into the room, his floppy T-shirt and jeans covered with dirt and grass stains. “Wow.” He chuckled, throwing his keys on the glass table. “If it isn’t Channing Mills.”
“Boy.” Avon rose, scowling. “Before you even start, you watch yourself.”
Zayden stood wide-legged, scrutinizing Channing. “I can do what I want.”
“You’re in my home.” Avon pointed his cane at him. “Treat this young lady with anything less than respect and you’ll be out of it for good.”
The rim of Zayden’s baseball cap lowered over his piercing, almond-brown eyes.
“Hello,” Anderson said in a stern voice that didn’t hide his dislike. “I’m Anderson Abraham.”