by Kenya Wright
The worst part about love is the possibility it could end. But a family would stay together forever. Right?
York, Mrs. Ellen, and even Zola had promised to always be there. Promised to love me. Promised to care for me. Promised and promised. Nothing could ever change the dynamic of us.
Even though I didn’t call or come around, I loved them fiercely. When I’d been in the military, I made sure Mrs. Ellen got a portion of my monthly wages even though she would never deposit the damn checks. A large amount of money still sat in my bank account waiting for her to one day ask me for something.
“Hunter?” Zola disrupted my thoughts. “Is that okay?”
I looked down at those soft fingers. I’d been gripping a pen hard and digging it in my skin. I stopped and looked at her. “Is what okay?”
“Is…” She had the goodness to not ask about the pen. “Uh…I was saying that I have to go to the party tonight because it’s in my contract. Personally, I would rather not be there either, but I signed up for it.”
“Why?”
“We’re selling cigarettes.”
I raised my eyebrows. “York’s schedule said the event was a rapper’s album release party.”
“Yeah, but it’s all about Natural Health cigarettes.”
“Did you say natural health and cigarettes in the same sentence?”
“Yes. It’s a new tobacco company that claims they have healthy cigarettes infused with vitamin and minerals that the body needs as well as—”
“This is real?”
“Yes.” She covered her face in shame. “They’re full of it. But Natural Health cigarettes are backing the rapper. And he is smoking Natural Health cigarettes in all his videos. He’s also on the movie soundtrack with Prayer for Dawn. Have you heard of it?”
“No.”
“It’s a high budgeted action flick, all about this community being destroyed by a corrupt sheriff and this new guy comes in and kicks butt. He saves the community and falls in love. The hero is Big Buck.”
“Zuzu, why would I care about the movie or Big Buck?”
“Because Big Buck also smokes Natural Health cigarettes the whole time in the movie because Big Buck is cool, and Trigger is cool.” She winked and did a mocking impression. “So, why not have Natural Health today?”
“That’s stupid.”
“It is.”
“And how are you a part of this?”
“I’m the model in Trigger’s upcoming video where he, everyone else, and I will be smoking Natural Health cigarettes to his music…in some mansion…with other half-naked women.”
“A mansion? Naked women? And all in a rap video?” I frowned. “Sounds like a fresh and unique idea that’s never been done in hip hop.”
“I’m noting your sarcasm.” She sighed. “Either way, the video is linked to the album release which is linked to the movie and the designer pocket books.”
I blinked. “Wait a minute. How did we get to pocket books? I thought we were talking about vitamin cigarettes and rappers?”
“It’s all connected.”
“I really wish it wasn’t.” I rubbed my head. “But go ahead and explain, please.”
“Natural Health cigarettes teamed up with purse designer, Siguoni. She does high brand pocket books. Most cost over five thousand dollars. Siguoni and Natural Health united to do a new addition to their line this winter. Can you guess what it will deal with?”
“Cigarettes.”
“Yes. Siguoni designed a little gold-plated holder on the inside that keeps your iPhone safe and your pack of Natural Health cigarettes even safer.”
“The pocket books will be in the movie and the video?” I asked.
“Yes, along with the smoking.”
“And you have to be there because you’re what to Natural Health?”
“Their spokesperson.”
“Are you kidding me? You don’t even smoke.”
“I know. I’m a fraud. York agreed to the contract. We argued about it for several months. I even fired him for a little bit, but…I’m just going to finish this contract and…try to figure out my next steps in my career.”
“You fired York?”
“I was pissed at this job. He was fired for three months. And then, I felt bad and hired him back. We both needed a break. With these deals and all the money they were offering, I felt like we were going on a path to losing our souls. This is the last deal like this that we’ll do.”
“How much was the Natural Health deal?” I asked.
“Three million.”
“That’s a hard number to say no to.”
“Of course. I’ll also be walking in Siguoni’s show during Paris fashion week.”
“Now I see. It is all connected.”
She leaned back in the seat. “I’m glad you understand.”
“Oh no. You’re still not going to this event, but I’m glad you were able to give me a better view. This stalker could be related to this.”
“Hunter, you’re guarding me, not telling me where and when I go somewhere.”
“I don’t care about cigarettes. I care about your safety.”
“It will be a breach of contract—”
“I’ll talk to them.”
“That might not be enough.”
“Trust me.” I turned to her. “Natural Health cigarettes doesn’t want any part of me.”
“You’re going to strong arm an entire corporation?”
“It’s not hard to do.”
“You can’t be serious.” Frowning, she squeezed my hand, and I wished she would let go. It made me want to touch her. It made me want to fucking pull her into me and never let her escape.
I gritted my teeth.
“I’m happy you’re here.” Her scent surrounded me. “I feel safer because of it.”
My cock started to get hard. I breathed in and out and focused on calming it down.
“But…I have to go to this party tonight. I could go in and out really quick. Just in and out.”
In and out? Real quick? Damn. That’s what I would love right now. In and fucking out and fucking in and fucking out again.
She raised her eyebrows. “Hunter?”
“What?”
“You licked your lips.”
I moved my hand away from hers. “I’ll think about the party tonight. Let’s get you home and fed.”
“Because I’m a cow that needs to be herded,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She placed her hands back on her legs. The jean material hugged her thighs just right. Men had watched her the whole time as I’d guided her to the car. If anything, I was starting to realize she would have a whole lot of suspects.
Who wouldn’t want to stalk Zola?
Silence filled the rest of the car ride. Baptiste would be flying in this evening.
My other friend, Stark would arrive soon after.
Stark had just been released from jail two weeks ago for attempting to hack into the electoral system and change the election results. Currently, he wasn’t a fan of our new president. The FBI had grabbed him before he could truly do any damage. He’d spent a little over a year in jail. I had two good lawyers get him released, although Stark would be on probation for five more years.
Knowing Stark, he’ll disappear after he helps. I can’t see him being good for five years of probation.
Regardless, I was happy that Baptiste and Stark were on their way. Both men I trusted with my life and would be extra support, once I found the stalker. Zola had to be guarded while I handled the psycho, and it had to only be me. No one could trigger fear in her heart. No man could make her rethink her safety in this cruel world.
I’ll take care of this.
We made it to her apartment in no time. The building was decent, but she could’ve been doing better. There was no door man or security, although one had to use a code to get in.
Anybody could figure out the code or hack it. This won’t work.
> We walked into an empty lobby stacked with mail boxes. I scanned the space, studying the few people grabbing their mail and turning to her. They all looked Zola’s way without trying to be obvious. The few women appeared star struck. The men looked horny. Zola seemed uncomfortable under their gazes, hurrying to the elevator and punching the button before I could reach out to do it.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“For a year.”
“It’s time to upgrade,” I said.
“I’m in a lease.”
“I could help you break it.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll move when it’s up in a few months.”
“I don’t think it’s safe here.”
She gestured behind her. “But there’s a code to—”
“That code doesn’t secure shit. It’s just a way for the landlord to add a couple hundred to your rent. He needs security here.”
The elevator arrived. The doors opened. We jumped on. She seethed by my side, probably annoyed with me. For some reason, she always hated my raw truth. There was no reason for her to care about what I said.
My opinion shouldn’t have mattered to her. She was everything. Perfect. Smart. Stunning. Courageous. If anything, every word I muttered was just to keep her safe.
But I can get off her back a little. I just want her more protected.
The elevator rose. I stared at the closed doors in front of me. “Sorry.”
She turned and widened her eyes. “What?”
“The building is nice.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re still moving.”
She chuckled to herself but said nothing else.
We stepped off. For some reason, darkness filled the hallway.
I held her behind me. “Is it always this dark in here?”
“No. Maybe the lights are off.”
“I’m not a fan of maybes.” I pulled my gun out of its holster. “Turn on your phone’s light. Shine it in front but stay behind me. I’m sure everything is fine.”
She looked at my gun for a few seconds in shock but did exactly what I said.
Silence filled the place.
I pointed my gun in the direction of the light. Nothing stood at the end, but a door.
“You’re the only one on this floor?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s the penthouse.”
I reached my free hand behind me. “Give me your keys.”
Zola shook a little as she pulled them out of her purse. “Here.”
I grabbed them and walked forward. Everything was probably fine. Zola had me on edge as usual, and I was probably a little off my game, but in the end, better safe than sorry.
The door opened with a creak. A strange smell hit me. Something rotten. Urine maybe.
I whispered, “Does your place always smell like this?”
“No.”
I wished Baptiste and Stark had already arrived. They could’ve waited outside with Zola. I really didn’t want to bring her in, but I damn sure wouldn’t leave her in a dark hallway by herself. Who knew where this sick bastard was?
Are you here, motherfucker, or is my mind playing tricks on me?
Dread hit Zola’s voice. “My lights are on.”
“They’re usually off?”
“Yes.”
We walked further inside. Apparently, it wasn’t just the hallway light that someone had turned on, but also the living room. It was there that we found several dozens of cut pink roses spilled all over the floor.
Zola gripped my arm. “Oh my God.”
“Stay close to me.”
6
Semen-splattered Wishes
Hunter
We walked into an attractive sitting-room decorated in Zora’s style of earth colors—pale green couch, comfortable leather chocolate chairs, and a light-yellow rug. There were grey walls and a white ceiling. A small bar section stood in the corner appearing elegant and sleek. It was a bow-fronted French sideboard with plenty bottles of alcohol and different glasses, and a plated ice-bucket. A wide window stood on the right.
Zola’s place might’ve been nice when she left it this morning, but it was a shit pile now. Someone had ripped up the couch cushions and yanked out the stuffing. Paintings hung backwards. He’d taken them off, turned them around, and nailed through the canvas. The art was ruined. Furniture too. Spilled wine covered the carpet wherever torn roses didn’t rest.
“How many bedrooms?” I asked.
“One.”
I gripped my gun hard. “Let me make sure it’s clear.”
She followed. Her hands shook as she held her phone.
In the hallway to her bedroom, floor-to-ceiling windows outlined the length, showing off a breathtaking view of Brooklyn. Yet, on the glass, someone had drawn in black permanent marker, “MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE.”
Zola whispered, “What the fuck? Why me?”
“He’s a sicko. Don’t try to make sense of it.”
The stalker had also left a signature, under the lines of the repeated word.
Brokenhearted.
Is that what you are? Brokenhearted?
I opened the bedroom and entered, leading with my gun and wishing the bastard was still there. I wouldn’t hurt him in front of Zola, but I would damage every cell in his body. Every nerve would feel pain by the time I finished.
Fortunately, the space was empty. I checked her adjoining bathroom, all of the closets, and even the balcony. He’d left.
Unfortunately, he’d also put a message all over the bed. There were more roses, outlining big letters to spell out mine. Wet liquid had been spilled all over the petals and sheets. I studied the mess.
“Mine. Why is it always mine?” Zola hugged herself and gazed at her bed. “Someone should get this guy a thesaurus.”
“Why? He won’t be able to read it, when I’m done with him.”
She widened her eyes.
I sniffed. The area reeked of urine and something else.
Probably semen and other bodily fluids. We’re dealing with an A-class stalker.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go back to the living room.” I counted the two empty wine bottles by the bed. Zola had defiantly been self-medicating to go to sleep. In this moment, I didn’t blame her.
“We’re going to my hotel.”
She nodded. What else could she do? She was out of her element, tired from work, and probably scared out of her mind.
I texted Stark and Baptiste. They would have to take an earlier flight. The whole situation had gone beyond emergency.
Zola’s voice went low. “Hunter?”
“Yes.”
“Should I be scared?”
“Very much.”
She continued to hug herself. “This isn’t an ordinary stalker? Not that…stalking is ordinary…”
“You’re correct.” I typed my men her address and asked them to be prepared to process the scene—fingerprints, DNA, anything they could find. I finished the message and looked at her. “How much do you want to know?”
“What?”
“There’s two ways I do this with my clients. The first is keeping everything from them, while they avoid injury and danger with ease. They have no idea what the size of the threat is. They’re basically oblivious to everything while I do my job.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “What’s the second option?”
I figured you wouldn’t want to be in the dark.
“The second option is that I give you everything straight with no chaser. I don’t sugarcoat. I don’t hide information because I think you will cry or piss your pants. With this option, you’ll need to manage your emotions.”
“I will.”
“I know you will.”
“So, do you have to tell me anything?” she asked.
“Yes, but first you should grab some stuff to take with you.”
She gazed back at the bedroom and then shook her head. “I
don’t want to pack or take anything from my place right now. I’ll just buy clothes or something for tomorrow.”
“Good idea. I’m sure he’s rubbed his genitals all over everything. I bet a blacklight would show color all over the place. He’s definitely urinated on your bed, but there could be semen and—”
“Jesus, Hunter. Is it too late to go with option one of not knowing shit?”
“Pretty much.”
We made it back down to the car. The journey was uneventful. No one was in the lobby, which put me on guard, but everything appeared to be fine.
When the car pulled off to take us to the hotel, I turned to Zola and gave her my honest opinion. “This is bigger than I thought. Because of that, I handle this my way.”
“I thought that was always your plan.”
“Now it’s confirmed.”
“What are your thoughts?”
“Stalking cases look similar on the surface and involve the same kinds of behaviors, but the reasons people do it can be complex and varied. However, the reason is what lights the fire, and that’s how I’m able to catch them.”
“Why do you think he’s stalking me?”
“Perhaps jealousy. In his mind, you’re his.”
I’ll fix that misunderstanding for him real soon.
I frowned. “I’m sure he knows you.”
“No.”
“He used pink roses. How many people know that you love pink roses? Most would’ve used red.”
She considered that for a minute.
I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Any recent upset lovers?”
It’s been a long time since I knocked one of your boyfriends around. This will be fun.
She shook her head. “No pissed-off lovers. At least, I don’t think so. I’m reasonably cool with all of them.”
I clenched my jaw at the last three words.
All of them? How many?
I cleared my throat. “I need a list of all your past lovers.”
“Everyone?”
“Yes. Stalking is often derived from prior relationships. But then, he may not have been an ex-lover at all. He could’ve just been a guy riding on the bus next to you every day, but in his mind, you both were together. Either way, I need a list of your exes to filter possible suspects out. Later, we’ll talk more about these relationships.”
