“I brought her in here though, didn’t I? I messed that part up. God only knows what she went back and told that little cop boyfriend of hers!” Anger slowly grabs hold of my chest making it hard to breathe. I hate this. I hate what happened and how this is playing out. I should have known better, but I was too busy looking for a piece of ass to realize she was playing me the whole time.
“Get the fuck over yourself!” I raise my eyebrows at her and smirk. I know Dez has a mouthlike mine, but it’s been awhile since she’s actually called me out like this.
“Get over what exactly?” I ask watching the fire in her eyes at it burns.
“This bullshit! You care about her. We can all see it but you! How do you know she even said anything? Maybe she didn’t.”
“She was talkin’ to the cops, Dez! It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what that shit is about,” I remind her.
“Need I remind you that you are friends with cops, Dad?”
Her use of the word dad stills my heart. She doesn’t use it as often as I would like her to. I know we’ve had a rocky past but I’m slowly fixing that. I’m making things right with Dez.
“I don’t know her play, Dez, and that’s what bothers me. I don’t know what’s runnin’ through her head.”
“That’s why you need to talk to her. Maybe this is a misunderstanding.”
“Maybe it’s not. I can’t risk lettin’ her out of there and she turn this club in for somethin’ that I can’t fix, Dezzy. Don’t you get that?” I ask while trying to keep my tone calm. She has to be able to understand that much.
“I get it but even still, go talk to her.”
“Since when are you on her side?” I ask with a slight smile.
Dez rolls her eyes and stands from her chair, coming around the desk. She leans down and hugs my neck before she says, “I’ve always been on your side.”
I turn my head and press a kiss to her cheek before watching her leave the room. I grab the next bottle I can find in my desk drawer, which happens to be Vodka, and take a long pull. Wincing at the burn, I shake my head. Could she be right? Maybe Fab didn’t say anything to him. Maybe he was just bullshitting me into thinking she did, but why? What was his gain? What would he get out of doing that? He ended up dead for what he said. Maybe that was the goal he wanted for her too. Reaching for the phone once more, I dial up another old friend.
“Yeah?”
“Mystic, how you doin’, brother?”
“Good, man. I’m good. What’s goin’ on?”
“I have a situation.”
“You motherfuckers always have a situation,” he laughs.
“That ain’t even a lie, brother. Got a girl here that I can’t dig up shit on. No birth certificate, no parkin’ tickets. Not a goddamn thing.”
“What’s her name?”
“Fabiola Watson.”
“Gimme awhile. I’m workin’ on somehin’ for Miami right quick but then I’ll get on her. If she’s out there, I will find her.” I chuckle because I know he will. He’s the best at what he does.
“Heard that. I’ll owe you one.”
“Tell me one member of the Soulless Bastards that don’t owe me one,” he laughs before the line goes dead. Mystic is the man we all go to when we need something found. If he can’t get it, no one can. I’ve always wondered about that man, but he is who he is and that’s something most of us don’t know about. He’s secretive and with good reason.
I’m about to take another pull from my bottle when Gauge walks into the room.
“You need to go down there and talk to her,” he says his voice too low for my liking.
“Not right now.”
“Yeah, right now. You need to hear what she has to say,” he adds.
“You talked to her?” He looks me in the eye and nods his head, a sick look crossing his face. “What’d she say?” He shakes his head while scratching at the back of his neck.
“Not shit I’m willin’ to repeat.”
“Are you fuckin’ with me here?”
“No. I’m not repeatin’ that shit, Prez! You need to talk to her.”
“Not with the mood I’m in I don’t. Give her a few days to make sure her story adds up with what she told you. I’m gettin’ outta here.” Shoving out of my chair, I head out of my office and past Gauge when he grabs my arm.
“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Sly. You want to hear what she has to say.”
Fuck! Why is it always my luck?
Chapter Fifteen
I think I’ve been down here a few days. I don’t really know. I try to sleep through most of it, but Dez brings food and water down more than three times a day. I’m not sure why she stays when she does either. Like now.
“They didn’t have cells down here when I was a kid. I used to hate it down here,” she says looking around the basement. There’s only four cells like the one I’m in and I don’t need to wonder what they use them for.
“Why?”
“It was creepy. You know when you’re little and you would watch scary movies? You think the killer clown or some shit is out to get you? That’s what I thought of this basement,” she giggles.
“It’s not so bad.”
“You’re in a cell,” she reminds me with her eyes narrowed.
“I suppose that’s my own fault.”
“Gauge told me what you told him.”
“I figured he would,” I admit. Not that I care or expected anyone to believe me, but I offered that man the truth and let it go. Gauge hasn’t come back down here and neither has Sly. I guess my word doesn’t mean much to them in the long run. I can’t say that I blame them looking back on all of it.
“Is it true?” I nod my head slowly and take a drink of my water.
“All of it. I never wanted it to go down like this.”
“Is that what you told Gauge?” I hear his voice as Dez turns to look over her shoulder. Sly comes down the rest of the stairs and finally into view. He looks tired, worn out, and I can’t say that I blame him. Gauge said this was hitting him hard and I believed him to a point.
“I told him a lot more than that.”
He nods his head and looks to Dez. She looks back at me, giving me a small smile before standing and jogging up the steps. Sly walks over, taking Dezzy’s seat in the chair.
“They keep tellin’ me I need to hear what you have to say, but I don’t know that I want to.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t get it, Fab. I brought you here, I trusted you. I haven’t trusted a woman in a long fuckin’ time. Hell, I haven’t had feelin’s for a woman in years. Then you fall into my lap, and goddamn it I wanted it to be real.” His voice is as pained as the look on his face. It sends an ache through my chest, but I can’t fix that part of him.
“I was almost asleep when they called me to tell me my brother had been killed. I remember sitting on the edge of the bed in a daze. I thought maybe, just maybe, I was dreaming it. You know when you’re not fully asleep but not fully awake either? I thought that’s where I was. It wasn’t until Deb came into the room that I realized it was all real,” I admit to him. It killed me to tell Gauge but telling Sly? The man I’ve grown to care so much about? That’s like ripping a stake out of my bleeding heart.