Beware 2: The Comeback (21 page)

Tye.

Wes.

Even Krane, my betrayer.

Dead.

I avoid showing any emotion, dropping the pictures and staring intently at a trembling Baker. “Your first minute starts now.”

Her eyes pop open, bloodstained, and full of horror. “He came to me,” she whispers. “He came to me personally and told me that he needed me for something. I owed him for getting me my job, so I accepted.” Her throat works hard to swallow. “He wanted me to run into you, talk you into letting me become your lawyer. That’s what I did. You remember.” Yeah I fucking remember, but I don’t say anything. I fold my arms, and she continues.

“At first, I thought it was stupid. Why did he want me to get close to you? Why would he want me to find things out about you that no one else did? I didn’t get it. And the more I got to know you, I knew I couldn’t be his spy. I… loved you Ace. I cared about you, so I purposely told people the things you were involved in so you would find out and hate me. Drop me. I knew you might have even killed me, but I risked that for you. When you finally broke it off with me, I was set free. I knew if I would’ve broken it off, he would’ve been pissed, and he would’ve taken everything away from me. My job. My life. Everything.” She hiccups, sobbing hard, bubbling over.

“I wanted to warn you about him. I wanted to tell so you could watch your back, but I knew if I did, he would’ve found out and killed me. I was the only one that knew he wanted to kill Crow at that time. So many years ago.” She shakes her head, as if wishing she could go back to the time before.

I watch her, and with a furious adrenaline rush, I step forward, place the pliers around her pointing finger, and squeeze the handle until that precious little finger falls right off. She hollers out in pain, body rocking back and forth but unable to go anywhere as blood spills on the glossy tabletop.

“That love shit you’re trying to pull isn’t going to work on me. Get to the fucking point!”

“Please,” she begs, voice hoarse. “Please, Ace. I’m telling you the truth! I swear!”

“I know. Continue.”

With a voice full of thick tears, she goes on. “He wants what you have. Everything. Call it envy, jealousy—whatever!” She blinks up at me.

“Who is he?” Her head turns back and forth, and when she doesn’t respond, I clip another finger off, causing her to scream at the top of her lungs. Trent cups her mouth, gripping it tight. “Answer me, Stella!”

Trent uncovers her mouth. “I thought you loved me, too.” Her voice cracks. “I thought what we had was actually real. H-how can you do this to me?” she hiccups, stuttering.

“You know I never fucking loved you. Nosey, prying bitch. How could I love that? That didn’t work well with what I had going on.”

“But I loved you,” she says, tears gushing.

“You didn’t love me,” I spit. “You loved the idea of me. The idea of danger. Someone that you shouldn’t have been with because of your career. You liked the idea of a taboo love.”

“No.” She slams her other hand on the table, glaring up at me. I cock a brow, as she shouts, “No!” And then, I don’t fucking believe it, but this bitch laughs. Hysterically. It’s unexpected.

I expected her to beg for her life, beg for freedom. I thought wrong. Trent pulls away completely, watching with me as she holds herself with her free hand, the other still dripping blood, laughing until her face turns a light shade of red. A hard laugh considering she’s a light-skinned African-American woman. “You aren’t going to kill me,” she says. “Look at you.” Her eyes roam my body. “You don’t have anything. Nothing! Are you still with that girl? The one who left you behind and started completely over?”

My upper lips twitches, pulse accelerating.

Laughing dryly, she whispers, “Ace Crow no longer runs this city. Whether you’re here or not, Crow is dead. The way
he
wanted it to be.”

Pissed, I reach for her throat, squeezing tight. Her eyes widen, face turning red beneath her tan skin. “Who. Is. He?” I seethe.

She tries to laugh again. “I’d rather be dead than see an amateur like
you
run this city again,” she spits.

Fury overcomes me.

I go blind with rage. All I see is red.

A sea of red. Everywhere.

No bitch is going to laugh in my face and get away with it.

Growling, I pick up my knife, step behind her, crane her head back, and slit her throat, all in less than three seconds. Way too fast to even seem real. Blood spills down her chest, and her body goes limp, crumpling back as I snatch away, panting, seething.

Her blood pools to the floor, and I stare down at the mess I’ve just created. A beautiful mess. A red waterfall. It’s been a while since I’ve killed someone. Adjusting my tie, I look up at Trent who is completely unbothered by what happened. “Look through her phone. See if there’s anyone familiar she may be talking to. Anyone we may know.”

“You think it’s someone we know?” he asks, pulling the phone out of his pocket.

“Has to be. She says he’s wanted me gone for years.”

Trent nods, and I walk around the table, pulling out one of the chairs and staring ahead at Baker’s dead body. The blood drips from her neck, staining her white blouse.

I don’t blink as I look at her.

My mind feels clear, but I can’t think straight.

All this time she’s been working against me. For a moment, while I was torturing her, I thought she was forced into this, but no. She was in, and she was in deep. How long had she been planning to take me down? Who the fuck is she working with? My temper got the best of me. Maybe I should’ve waited for her to tell me who “he” was, but fuck it. She’s dead just like whoever “he” is will be once I find out.

Several minutes pass before Trent speaks up. “Busy phone. Too much shit. I noticed she doesn’t call anyone twice in the same day, though. Most people call her. But there’s one number in here that she called eight times last night. No name to it. She also has an anonymous email from someone who sent her this same number a few days ago via email. Email says, ‘Call only when I text you.’ She got out of hand. Why would she call so many times?”

I stand, taking the phone away from him. I press the “Call” button, place the phone to my ear, and as it rings, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. It rings five times before there’s a response.

“Stella?” he answers.

I don’t speak. That voice. Familiar. Too fucking familiar.

“Stella, baby. I’m busy right now. I told you I would call when I have this settled. What is it?”

My entire body becomes alert when I realize exactly who this person is. Lowering the phone, I end the call, way too quiet for my own good.

“Who was it?” Trent asks, stepping towards me.

How do I respond? I mean, I know how to respond, but how do I react? This person… I trusted him. Trusted him like a fucking brother!

“Boss?”

Finally, I blink, realizing I fell right into his trap. He knew I would come back eventually, that I would want to figure something out. London was right. This was a trap. He’s most likely halfway across his globe by now. He doesn’t do his own dirty work. He knew I’d come, and there’s probably someone watching me right now, waiting for the right moment to attack and kill me. When I look at Trent, his eyes are wide, face inquisitive. “You know who it is?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, tucking the phone in my back pocket. I pick up my knife and the pliers, toss them in my bag, and march for the front door. When we make it back down to the car, I snatch off my gloves and crush my fists into the dashboard, conjuring roars, bruising my hands, and shouting harsh obscenities.

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE
FUCKING
KIDDING ME!”

Trent’s door slams behind him, focusing on me. “Boss,” he calls, “…who was it? Don’t keep me in the dark here.”

I look towards him, breathing hard and fast. I’m fucking furious. I can’t believe the name I’m about to say. “Maurice,” I rasp, dropping my head in defeat. “Maurice fucking Grimes.”

Bad Religion – Frank Ocean

Why am I here? Why am I not on my way to Belgium, ready to hunt him down?

I’m here.

My hometown.

My city.

The memories of Pearl River, New York invade me. It hasn’t changed a bit—old wooden houses, streets full of potholes, and flipped over trashcans.

From across the desolate street, I stare ahead at the holy temple. Built brick on top of careful brick, a large brown cross outlined with silver and stained cathedral glass reflects onto me. Apart from being in a neighborhood that is considered the slums, this church is a powerful place. It embraces elegance.

Memories.

Serenity.

Peace.

Things I used to long for but can no longer obtain.

I swallow hard, giving it one final stare down before making my way across the street. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Going into such a godly place with all I’ve done wrong. I know the error of my ways. I’m a bad person, plain and simple. Although my Lord is a powerful and forgiving God, I don’t deserve to be forgiven. I don’t deserve his mercy. I should’ve died in that alley. I shouldn’t even be walking up these steps, making my way into a temple of such majesty.

I pause, clutching the door handle. I have so many questions. I have so much on my mind that I can’t even think straight. This has never happened to me before. Having a woman I love and knowing a man I cared about betrayed me many years ago and is still trying to take me down. No one is following us which means he has no clue I’m here or he has other plans for me.

My fingers go numb, but I pull open the door. I take a few steps inside, familiar with the scent of rich lavender oils and calming incenses. The door shuts behind me, but I don’t move. I’m too afraid to face the man on the cross. The man who died for my numerous sins. I don’t deserve to be in his presence. His cross looms above the altar, watching me.

I remain bold, fulfilling the internal yearning to clear my head. I walk forward as quietly as possible. The church is empty. A few fresh candles are lit up front, meaning someone was here not too long ago.

I take a seat that’s not too far or too close to the altar. I haven’t had much time to think with all that’s going on. With London, my son, her difficult decision with leaving Greg, and Maurice… it’s all so confusing.

But what fucks with my emotions the most is the friend that has betrayed me. I trusted him more than I ever trusted anyone in the business. I grew up with him, watched as he handled transactions with his own father. When I was in middle school, I would go to his house, and we’d play video games all day. We were tight. Close.

And then, there’s London. She has to make a decision. He may be a good guy, but I am
her
guy. I’m the one she fell for first. I’m the one she promised to wait for. She wants me. She’s just too sensitive and too afraid to lose someone that’s entered her life. She’s lost so many, and I should understand why the situation is hard for her, but I don’t. When it comes to what I want—what I need—I’m not sympathetic. I will get rid of anyone in my way, and she knows that. Hopefully, the act we committed the night I left gets her to finally go through with it. Until then, I know she’ll be safe around Greg. He won’t let anything happen to her.

I bring my hand up, pinching the bridge of my nose. I’m overwhelmed. Placing my elbows on my knees, I lean forward and lock my fingers. For the first time in my life, I’m stuck. I’ve never been stuck. I always make a way. Always.

“Donovan Crow.” A voice rises from beside me. I sit up, but I don’t look because I know exactly who it is.

I smile. “Pastor Wyatt,” I murmur. I finally look his way. His eyes are wide, his face contorted in total disbelief.

“Now, wait a minute…” He walks my way, holding up a patient finger. “I could’ve sworn I read your obituary. My eyes… tell me they aren’t deceiving me.”

I chuckle. “They aren’t deceiving you, Pastor. It’s me. I’m here.”

He inhales sharply, his blue irises flashing from the candlelight. “I cannot believe it.”

“Many couldn’t.” I fold my fingers in my lap.

“What did you do, fake your own death?” he questions.

“Hmm… something along the lines of that, only I didn’t plan it.”

Confusion fills his eyes, but surprisingly, he drops the subject, leaning forward. “Well, what brings you in? You know I haven’t seen you since you were just a boy. Your mother, father, and that crazy little cousin of yours. How is she anyway?”

“Bianca’s good. Fashion designer. She goes by Bianca
Love
now. Crazy, right?”

He laughs. “She was always the wild child. I still remember the day she drank all the communion juice. Our guests were not pleased.”

I nod, laughing a little. “She claimed she was
extremely parched
.”

Laughter fills the temple. Pastor swipes his eyes, ridding himself of the joyful tears. “Good times.” He folds his arms. “But you didn’t answer me… about being here. You aren’t the type that just drops by. The last time you were here, you were asking for advice about taking over your father’s business. That was many, many years ago. You were just a boy. Now look at you. A man with eyes so hard and cold they could cut through diamonds.”

I smash my lips together, watching as his face grows serious. “This is a much harder decision than taking over Crow… something I need real wisdom for.

“I’m here to listen.” He adjusts himself, giving me his undivided attention. I meet his gaze, uncertain about sharing something like this with him. I know he’s heard some wild stories, but this—this is unacceptable by all means of the Bible and our religion.

His eyes soften and small wrinkles form around them. His balding, peppery hair is pushed aside. The comforting smile he wears makes me want to spill it all, but I know to start light.

“You told me not to take over Crow,” I start, lowering my gaze and turning forward. “You told me it would lead me to nothing but a path of evil. I remember everything you said. How I would become bitter. How I would submit to the darkness, let it take over me. You were right. It did.”

He nods but doesn’t speak.

“Pastor, I’ve done many horrible things in my life,” I whisper. “Unspeakable things.”

“God forgives all, Donovan.”

“Yes but… I think the sin I’m about to commit will be unforgiveable.” Silence rises. I continue. “I have only have one weakness, and that’s my family and the people I care about. Recently, I found out someone I care about betrayed me. Three years ago, when everyone thought I was dead, he planned it all very well and covered his tracks in the process. He’s wanted to take me down for years, and I was foolish enough not to think so. In my business, everyone outside of it is an enemy no matter how close.

“But the crazy thing is, I’ve known him for years. He’s like a brother to me. I care about him. I have love for him. But he did me dirty. He stabbed me in the back. He did something that I never would’ve thought about doing to him, no matter the circumstances.” I look up, meeting the pastor’s eyes. His face is still the same—even, unreadable, but genuinely understanding. “I’m here because I don’t know what to do. I have no guidance here. I can’t hurt the people I care about. I may say it, but I can’t. I’ve had many opportunities to hurt people I care about in the past, but I never saw them through. That is my only weakness because, once I let someone in, there is no going back for them. They’re in my heart for life, and he knows this. And I feel like he knew once I returned, I would find out it was him. He’s prepared. He has some kind of plan.”

“What are your plans for him?” he asks.

I keep my lips sealed for a brief moment. “I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.”

“Okay… let’s take another route. What will you accomplish by committing your sin?”

“I hope to feel peace. He’s the only thing holding me back from a carefree life. I can’t have the weight of his betrayal on my shoulders because the longer I hold my anger in, the more I will lose the peace I already have.”

“Hmm.” He turns forward, staring ahead at the burning candles. “Donovan, there are things that we have no control of. You are here for a reason. You were guided here. You were seeking an answer to a question you had no response for. You were at a dead end, but this place is an open door. It’s a gateway. Why do you think you’re here?” He looked at me, matching my gaze.

“Not sure. I’ve been wondering why myself. Probably because it was only an hour away. Wanted to see it again.”

He smiles wholeheartedly. “It is because of the guilt you feel, son. You think you’re here for advice on your friend, but it has nothing to do with that. You’re here because of how much you’ve done wrong, and now that you’re at a dead end, you’re remembering that you didn’t have to accept this life. I will be blunt about this. You were wrong. You knew better, yet you took the terrible opportunity of running your father’s bloody business, and now you’re paying the price for it.”

Silence consumes me, and I lower my head in what I know is shame.

“There is a woman?” he asks.

I whip my head up, narrowing my eyes. I don’t say anything though.

“Ahh, yes. There is a woman. A woman you love. That is why you’re seeking peace. For her. For a better future.”

“Perhaps.”

He laughs, sitting back and placing his arm on top of the wooden bench. “I will tell you what I’m being told from Him.” He sighs, placing one leg on top of the other. “I am being told that what you went through was fate. People thinking you were long gone. Your friend betraying you… all fate.”

My eyebrows stitch, confusion masking my face. “Fate?”

“Yes, fate. You were knocked down because He had to knock you down. He had to bring you to your knees. He had to make you defenseless again. Open. The only way He could do that was by taking everything you love away from you. By
He
I mean God. Our God is a very smart one. He knows what he’s doing.” He points up with a waving finger, half-smiling. “You won’t gain peace from committing a sin, and you really won’t gain it by holding onto unnecessary anger. Jesus was betrayed by Judah, yet he forgave him. He became stronger. He moved forward.

“You do what you have to do, Donovan, but remember… peace is what you make it. Peace means bliss, no hauntings of your sins. Peace means happiness. For once in your life, for that woman you love so dearly, do the right thing. Follow your heart, not your mind. The heart remains true and loyal, but the mind can be unreliable. Your mind will trick you into thinking you’re doing the right thing, but all it’s doing is deceiving you.” He forms a smile. I lower my head, absorbing the wisdom. He then caps my shoulder and stands. I pick my head up again. “You know I’m right, son. Move forward. Not backwards. Run away with that woman and never look back. Accept the good in life. Get away from all the evil while you can. That is all I can tell you.” He smiles. “I must get going now. It was great seeing you, Donovan. Be careful.”

He squeezes my shoulder, and with that, he walks away, leaving me with an even more confused mind and an extremely heavy heart.