by Nia Arthurs
The breath leaves my body in a whoosh when we collide. I stumble back a few steps until I catch my balance, but I don’t touch her.
Apart from recognition and slight annoyance, there’s no spark. Aunt Katrina was definitely wrong. There’s no way I was messing with Violet.
With Amaya… even when I don’t remember her, just the sight of her—no, the sound of her name—causes my heart to thunder in my chest.
Holding Violet I feel… nothing. Except the fondness one would feel for a friend or a pet. And maybe nostalgia for the days when the world didn’t seem so complicated.
Violet lets me go and leans back. There’s maturity in her pretty blue eyes that wasn’t there before. A few wrinkles span her lips, a feature she tried and failed to hide beneath her makeup. She’s still a beauty though, even if she’s aged.
“It’s so great to see you.” Violet grabs my biceps and squeezes tight. “When I found out why you’d really come to Belize…” She shakes her head and then punches me. “Why did you keep that big of a secret?”
I rub my arm where she hit me. “Who told you?”
“I met Wilson at the hospital. He was visiting your neurologist.”
“What? Did he tell you why?”
“No.” She pauses and studies my face. “Is that a bad thing? You look upset.”
“I’m fine.” I force a smile.
“Are you sure? Should we sit down?”
“What exactly did Wilson say to you?”
“I asked when you were coming home and he said you weren’t. I asked him what he meant by that and, when he didn’t answer, I gave him the look.” She glowers into the distance so I know what she’s talking about. “Then he caved.”
“I can’t believe he still falls for that. Some things never change.”
Her lips curve up. “Guess so.”
I grab her suitcase and turn away so she can’t see how unsettled I am. Violet chatters in the background, but she’s basically talking to herself. My mind is on Wilson.
Why did he seek out my doctor? I thought he was in a meeting. Or was that the ‘meeting’ he’d been referring to?
“Kent?” Violet finally notices I haven’t been listening to her and links arms with me.
“Huh?”
“From now on, I’m going to be by your side twenty-four-seven.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
I grimace. I don’t care one way or the other, but Amaya might have a problem with that.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amaya
When I leave the Cultural Institute, I spot Tyron walking down the street. I’d recognize my brother anywhere and from any angle, but that black backpack strung over his shoulder and that even gait confirms his identity.
I pull the car over and lower the passenger side window. “Need a ride?”
“Hey, sis.” Tyron says. He’s so tall, I can only see his lips moving from where I’m sitting. “Thanks.”
A wistful smile grows on my face. I remember when Tyron was a kid. I got my first car and it blew his mind. Every time Tyron saw me outside his school gates, he’d race to the vehicle and shout my name.
Now that he’s a moody teenager, being excited for a lift would probably mess with his cred.
I watch Tyron pull the door and slip in, fitting his long frame into my cramped front seat. He lets the chair out so he has more leg room and glances at me. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Nah. I was at work.” I reach over and wipe the sweat from his forehead with my hand. I should have driven by earlier so he didn’t have to walk in the sun at all.
“You’re back at the Institute?” He arches his thick eyebrows. “Are you finished with your song already?”
I start the car and focus on the road. “Uh, not exactly.”
“You don’t usually take this long,” he muses.
“A lot’s been going on. Once I settle in, I’ll finish the melody and get it produced in no time.”
“That Kent guy… is he the reason you’ve been distracted.”
“What?” I cough. “Of course not.”
“You sure?”
I nod.
“Then why did he stay over that night after Julius…?” Tyron’s words falter. He lowers his head, suddenly finding the callouses on his dark thumb fascinating.
“That wasn’t your fault,” I say softly. “You did the right thing by returning the money. And Julius got caught because of it. I’m not complaining.”
“You could have died. If you had, I would never forgive myself.”
“Well, I didn’t die. And look, it worked out.”
Tyron stares at me. “What about Kent? Are you two dating now?”
“He’s…” I think of how we left things this morning. “We’re figuring things out. It’s nothing you have to worry about. You just focus on school.”
“I am.”
“What about the rest of Julius’s crew? They haven’t bothered you since then, right?”
He shakes his head. “There’s too much heat on them. If anything happens to me, they’ll go down like Julius did.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yeah.”
We remain quiet as I swerve through traffic. A few minutes later, I drop Tyron off at Mom’s and wait patiently for him to get out.
He clutches the handle and swings his legs on the sidewalk, but when he sees that I’m not joining him, he falls back. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“Not today.”
He purses his plump lips. “Did you and Mom fight or something?”
“No.” I smile when I think of Mom giving her stamp of approval after she found out who Kent was. For the first time in a while, we agree on something. “I just have an errand I want to run before it gets dark.”
My choice of words must have tipped him off because Tyron suddenly shuts the door. “I’ll come with you.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I can handle on my own.”
“Tell me what you’re doing first and then maybe I’ll believe you.” He folds his arms over his chest and settles into his seat, giving me the impression I’d need a crowbar to pry him out of it.
I sigh. “I want to check around that alley where you robbed—I mean, where we found Kent. See if anyone recognizes him.”
Kent vehemently rejected this idea when I proposed it earlier, but it’s a good one. I’m not letting Wilson run in and take advantage of him because we’re unprepared. The fastest way to take Kent’s cousin down is to gather evidence of his misdeeds.
All we need is a witness. Someone to link Wilson to the crime.
Tyron frowns. “Why would you waste your time? No one’s gonna snitch.”
“I know it’s a long shot, but Kent’s in trouble. I need to know why he was out there that night. Who he was meeting. That sort of thing.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
I freeze. “What?”
“I saw him too.”
“I lunge for my brother and grab his shoulder. “What did you see?”
“Uh…” He squints at the windshield. “It was a while ago. Give me a second.” He starts mumbling like he’s talking to himself. “We were heading to the court to play some ball when we saw a white guy stumbling around.”
“Stumbling? Like he was drunk?”
“I thought so at first. We all did. That’s why Julius came after him. He thought it’d be easy to take him down and grab his stuff. But Kent wasn’t drunk. I didn’t smell any liquor on him and as soon as he realized what we were doing, he fought. Like a wild animal.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“No. At first, I thought he’d been looking for a dealer and got lost, but when I met him again at the hotel a few days ago, he didn’t seem like a user.”
“Kent doesn’t do drugs.” I shake my head. “Is that it?”
“Sorry. I wish I was more help.” He sheepishly glances away.
“That was great, Ty, but I still
want to post these around and see if anyone bites.” I hold up the flyers I printed at work. Kent’s picture is on prominent display along with my contact information and the details I’m looking for.
“You sure this is safe? What if Kent got mixed up with some bad people that night? They could come after you.”
“Bad people? You mean like a bunch of teenagers who beat and rob him?”
Tyron frowns. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t have any other options. The police told me they were ‘still investigating’ when I called them yesterday. This is the only thing I can think of.”
“Fine.” Tyron looks away. “I’ll help you put them up.”
I hide my smile. It’s clear Tyron doesn’t approve of what I’m doing, but he’s helping anyway. My brother’s given me a ton of stress since the day he was born, but I wouldn’t trade one day with him.
We work together for an hour, handing out flyers and speaking to the store-owners, vendors, and homeless people stationed on the street.
The homeless people all claim to have seen Kent, but the stories they offer don’t make a lot of sense. I give them a few dollars for their time anyway since I’m pretty sure the money was what they were after in the first place.
When the flyers run out, I take Tyron back to Mom’s and then return home.
The moment I step inside my living room, I head straight for the couch and dive in. My back muscles loosen as I sink into the fabric.
It’s been a long day.
With my face still planted in the pillows, I dig through my pocket for my phone. My fingers grip the metal surface and I yank it out.
When I check, I see that there are no new messages.
Disappointment slams into me. I expected Kent to have called by now. Or at least texted. I wasn’t very subtle when I stormed out of the hotel room this morning.
I don’t consider myself an unreasonable woman. I understand where Kent is coming from. He has every right to be frustrated—his cousin broke into his personal files and probably stabbed him or at least hired someone to. His memories disappear every morning and life’s given him an early death sentence.
I get it. I’d be pissed at the world too. But, this morning, Kent took that frustration out on me. Which was not cool. At all.
I might have been oversensitive though, and I’m willing to apologize if he does first, but if Kent decides to play hard to get and goes to sleep without writing about our argument, there’s no way he’ll remember it tomorrow.
What am I supposed to do then? Just roll over and pretend it didn’t happen because Kent’s wiped it from his mind? And what if it happens again? What if this is Kent’s way of dealing with conflict?
“Amaya, calm down.” I moan into my pillow. “The night’s still young. Kent can still call.”
I wait another hour.
He doesn’t.
Two hours pass.
Still no contact.
I give up and start to get ready for bed when I hear a knock at the door. My heart picks up. Instinctively, I know it’s Kent. When I open the door, I fall straight into his light eyes.
“Hey,” he says, his broad shoulders filling up the doorway. “Can I come in?”
I step back and let him pass. Kent’s hand brushes against mine as he steps into the room. Electricity skitters over my skin and shoots straight to my heart.
I have to remember that I’m angry. There’s no room for distractions right now. Even if Kent looks adorable in that blue shirt with his hair brushed back like a man on a mission.
I fold my arms over my chest to keep them from disobeying me and reaching out to him. My voice is cold, unwelcoming. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to apologize.”
That… pretty much kills all the anxiety and anger I’ve been harboring all day. “You did?”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, and I’ll do my best to never let it happen again. Please forgive me.”
My lip trembles. “Of course. I’m sorry too. I overreacted.”
“You had every right to be mad at me.”
“It’s not just that you yelled. When… when I was younger, there wasn’t a lot of shouting in our house. My mom didn’t raise her voice at us, and Tyron and I were taught to never do it either. When there was yelling, it was usually because my step-dad was home and drunk.”
Kent flinches. “And I reminded you of him?”
“No. I mean, kind of. He never hit me, but every time he got loud someone else was getting it. That stayed with me. I feel uneasy whenever a man starts shouting. My mind goes back to that time. It’s like I’m still waiting to get beaten.”
Kent strides over to me. “Come here.” He envelops me in his arms. I lean against him, soaking in his strength. His chest rumbles. “I will never hurt you, Amaya. The only thing I want to do is honor, respect and love you.”
My eyes fall shut, and I wrap my arms around his waist. “Those are pretty words.”
“Are you insinuating I can’t back them up?”
“Maybe.” I look up, noticing his mischievous gaze. “I missed you.”
“So did I.” He leans down, his eyes focused on my lips.
I pull back before he can kiss me. “Then why didn’t you call me earlier?”
“I…” His gaze darts to the side. “I was busy.”
My instincts perk up. Since I’ve known him, Kent’s been an open book. Sort of. Tonight, he looks extremely shady. “Doing what?”
“I’ll tell you if you give me a kiss.”
I laugh. “Oh, so now you’re bargaining?”
He just arches an eyebrow.
I do a little hop, intending to give him a quick kiss. Kent drags me closer until I’m flush against him and what was supposed to be a peck becomes a full on, crushing embrace that turns my knees to jelly.
Kent is trying to back me up against the wall when there’s a knock at the door and a woman’s voice that I don’t recognize yells, “Kent? You in there?”
Kent’s lips leave mine so swiftly if I blinked I would have missed it. He backs away from me. “You wanted to know why I was busy?” He lets out a shuddering breath. “There it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kent
I told Violet not to leave the car.
I also told her I’d be quick, but when I put my hands on Amaya, the world ceased to exist and all I could focus on was caressing her soft, brown skin and making her moan the way she does when she’s particularly lost in the moment.
To be fair… I can understand why Violet got worried and came to check on me, but I’m still unhappy about it.
“Kent?” Violet stands in the doorway, her pale skin bathed in the golden glow from Amaya’s porch light. Her blue eyes fasten on a point behind my shoulder. “What’s going on? You said you weren’t going to take long.”
“I…”
Before I can answer, Amaya shuffles forward. “Who’s this?”
The two women stare at each other.
At that moment, regret crashes into me. It was a stupid decision to bring Violet here tonight.
Not that she gave me a choice.
Since she landed in Belize this morning, my old friend’s been keeping her promise of sticking next to me. Or, more accurately, she’s forced me to stick to her.
Violet dragged me around town. We visited the museum. Spent hours at the zoo. Toured the Marie Sharp Pepper Sauce outlet. And took a horse-and-buggy ride through the streets.
It’s like Violet came armed with a list of fun, touristy things to do in Belize City and was determined to tackle every one in a single day.
I couldn’t shake her.
But I should have found a way. Given the tension in the air, there’s no chance I’ll walk away from this house in Amaya’s good graces.
“I’m Violet.” She shoots straight past me and dangles her hand in front of Amaya. “And you?”
Amaya doesn’t bother reaching out. “Amaya Mai. Were you outsi
de this entire time?”
“Unfortunately.”
I can feel myself shriveling beneath Amaya’s hard stare. My throat tightens when she purses her beautiful lips. Lips I was enjoying very much before Violet decided to pull this stunt.
I’d rather sneak out of here and leave the conflict behind but, since I can’t, I have to smooth things over. “Violet’s an old friend. She lived in my neighborhood growing up. She’s like a sister.”
“Oh.” Amaya’s expression lightens though the guardedness in her eyes remains. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. This is a nice place.” Violet glances around Amaya’s living room. “Cozy.”
“Thanks.”
“We should go. It’s been a long day.” I place a hand on Violet’s arm and urge her toward the porch.
“What’s the rush?” Amaya asks, her eyebrows arched in challenge.
“No rush,” I croak.
Violet shakes my arm off. “You can leave if you want. I’m staying.”
The women turn away from me and sit on opposite ends of the couch. I wince and plod toward them.
When I move to sit in the armchair, Violet stops me. She pats the space between them. “Why are you so far away, Kent?”
“Yeah, Kent.” Amaya narrows her eyes. “Come closer.”
I drag myself over to them and sit in the middle. The couch is small and both women are pressed up against my shoulders. I inch away from Violet and scoot closer to Amaya who notes the movement with a smirk.
I smile back. Good. She should never feel insecure. Amaya is the only woman I want.
In spite of how awkward things are right now, I’m glad I came over tonight instead of calling to apologize when I got back to the hotel. Amaya’s confession about her stepfather shed light on who she is and what makes her tick. When I promised I would never hurt her, I meant it.
Amaya leans over me to slant a confident look at Violet. “So, how was Kent growing up?”
“He was handsome. Smart. Funny. A total catch.” Violet preens. “But he was painfully oblivious. I was the only girl he kept around so everyone thought we were dating.”
