Diamond (G Street Chronicles Presents The Love, Lies & Lust Series)

by Mz. Robinson

  “Someone broke in last night.”

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he walked over to the table and pulled a chair up next to mine.

  “Where were you last night, Randall?”

  “Like I told you,” he said with a frown, “I had to make a run to Nashville.”

  “Did you talk to anyone? Tell them anything?”

  “Diamond, what’s going on?”

  “You tell me,” I said flatly. “You suddenly showed up, out of nowhere, after all those years, in the same place I am. Then, a few days after I confided in you about Jonah, the raids happened. Last night, while you were gone, somebody broke in and—”

  “Hold up! You think I had something to do with all that?” He stared at me with wide eyes. “Really? You think I’m that damn grimy, Diamond?”

  I could hear the hurt in his voice see the pain of betrayal in his eyes, but none of those things mattered at the moment. I was dealing with the evidence and facts I had seen. “I’m asking you if you told anyone anything,” I repeated.

  “Hell no!”

  I pulled my eyes from his, not wanting him to see my expression. “Who can vouch for you?” I pressed.

  “Diamond, I’m telling you I had nothing to do with any of this shit!”

  “Prove it,” I said, craving the truth.

  “Diamond, this is me,” he attempted to reason. “I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

  “Prove it, Randall!”

  He removed his cell phone from the holster on the waistband of his pants and dialed a number. He shook his head, placed the phone on speaker, and set it on the table in front of me.

  “This is real fucked up, Diamond.”

  The line rang several times before someone finally answered, “Hello?”

  “Mama?” I whispered lowly.

  “Hey, Ma,” Randall said. He raised his finger to his lips, instructing me to be quiet.

  “Hey, baby. Did you make it back safely?”

  “I just got in,” he said. “How you feeling?”

  “I’m good, son,” Mama said. “I’m a little nervous about the treatment tomorrow, but God knows best.”

  Treatment? I thought, confused. I stared at Randall, wanting an explanation.

  “I coulda stayed with you,” he told her.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “The nurses are great here.”

  “They’d better be good to my mama,” Randall said.

  “I’m gonna get some rest now, honey. I’ll call you after chemo tomorrow.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  They exchanged “I love you’s” before Randall ended the call and slipped his phone back in its holster. He looked at me, then clasped his hands together in front of him on the table. “I was in Nashville with Mama,” he explained. “I took her to the Vanderbilt-Ingram Cancer Center to start treatment for her bladder cancer.”

  “I thought…but you said the two of you weren’t speaking,” I stuttered.

  “We weren’t when I told you that. I stopped by to see her about a month ago,” he explained. “I was there when the center called to confirm her admittance. You know me, Diamond. I’ll bug the hell outta somebody till they tell me what I wanna know. That’s the only reason she told me.”

  “I went to see her yesterday,” I said, swallowing, “and she didn’t say a word about it.”

  “I know. I pulled up a few minutes after you left, and she told me about your, uh…conversation.”

  I rose from the table and walked over to the kitchen island, trying to process my thoughts and attempting to sort through the mixture of feelings boiling inside of me. “How can she afford Vanderbilt?” I questioned, looking at Randall.

  He looked away, then looked at me again. “She can’t.” He blew out through his parted lips.

  “Gator?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  It never ceased to amaze me that the very ones we pissed on with our judgment were often the same ones who’d go above and beyond to show that they cared. Mama didn’t like my husband’s profession or the fact that I was married to him, but she sure as hell didn’t have an issue with spending his money. Regardless of who she’d thought had written those checks, all along, she’d known the source of the funding.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you,” I said sincerely.

  “No worries, sis,” he said with an understanding smile.

  * * * * *

  “Do you want out?” Gator asked as we talked on the phone.

  I had shared with him, detail for detail, what had taken place during the robbery. The pain in his voice as he apologized profusely for not being there to protect me brought me to tears, but the tears were bittersweet. Part of me hated that he felt guilty, but another part wanted him to. In a way, he’d left me, and I wanted him to feel defeated for failing to protect his wife.

  “There’s no way out for me,” I said softly. “I’m Mrs. Leon Douglass, and running or hiding won’t change that. That name will follow me no matter where I go, and I can either let it hold me down, or I can use it to pull myself up. I refuse to live my life in fear of being attacked, and I refuse to be disrespected ever again. I don’t want out, Gator. I want in.”

  “In?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I want them to know that nothing has changed but your location, that we are still a force and a family to be reckoned with, and I want the next motherfucker who even thinks of touching me to consider themselves dead.”

  “Do you know what this means, Diamond? The risk? I won’t be there to protect you, and—”

  “You don’t have to be,” I said, “I got this.”

  “Be at D’Alessandro’s tomorrow night at 8:00,” he said before giving me a brief description of who I’d be meeting.

  “Thank you.”

  “Also…Jonah was murdered last night.”

  “What!?”

  “Word is that there was some type of riot at Limestone,” he said, referring to the prison where Jonah’d been sent. “He was stabbed over thirty times.”

  “I can’t believe that,” I said sadly. “He was a good man, a loyal friend.”

  “I know,” Gator said, clearing his throat, “and he will be missed. Anyway, baby, I’ve gotta go. Remember that I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Loyalty?”

  “Always,” I said.

  “Never forget that,” he said firmly.

  Chapter 20

  Venetta parted sections of my hair as I sat in front of my bathroom vanity, staring at my face, content with the makeup that covered my skin. I applied concealer and powder to cover my bruise and a thin layer of gloss to my lips. Jumping, I shrugged my shoulder as she got too close to my ear with the flat-iron.

  “I’m not gonna burn you.” She laughed and shook her head.

  It felt odd not wearing bundles of weaves, but I actually liked the look and texture of my natural hair. After taking my weave out, I was ready to allow Venetta to cut it in a simple but classy layered bob that would frame my face. I’d once said I’d only stop wearing weaves if they stopped making them or if my husband went broke, so I was now owning up to what I’d said. I’d learned the hard way that life had a way of making me eat my own words and shit my own truths.

  “Done.” She smiled and laid the iron on the counter.

  I admired the style; it made me look slightly younger than I wanted to appear, but it was definitely a good look. “I love it,” I said honestly. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  I stood and ran my hands down the front of my jacket. I’d selected a black pantsuit for the meeting. The short-sleeved, one-button jacket and flared pants were sexy but professional. Under the jacket, I added a hint of color by wearing a slinky red camisole. To make everything really pop, I selected red pumps. My wedding rings and a pair of diamond stud earrings were the only subtle accessories I needed to complete my look.

  When I exited the bathroom, Venetta was right on my heels. “Are you
sure you don’t want me to go with you?” she asked, removing her handbag from my nightstand. “I learned a lot about real estate from Terrance.”

  I’d told Venetta I was attending a real estate investors’ seminar at The Embassy. I’d chosen not to tell her the truth because she was so emotional all the time, and I didn’t know how she would react. I was starting a new venture in life, and although Gator had entrusted his sister with some of his business secrets, I felt the less she knew, the better. “Thanks, but I need to go this one alone,” I said.

  “Well, make sure to let me know how it goes,” she said, walking to the door.

  “Will do.”

  She stopped, then turned around and looked at me with a huge smile on her face. “I almost forgot to tell you that I finally had lunch at that restaurant.”

  “What restaurant?”

  “The Ambiance.”

  “V., isn’t that the restaurant Octavia Whitmore owns?”

  “It is,” she said, “and the food is delicious.”

  There was no way in hell that Venetta had patronized the place out of just a desire for a good meal. I’d thought she’d let her obsession with the Whitmores go, but it was obvious I was wrong. “Do you think that was a good idea?”

  “What?”

  “Going there,” I said, “where she works.”

  “I didn’t bother her,” she said firmly. “In fact, I didn’t even see her there. I like good food, and I shouldn’t be punished for other people’s errors.”

  “We should talk about this later,” I suggested.

  “Sounds good, sweetie.” She kissed me on the cheek and walked out of the room.

  I grabbed my clutch off the bed, turned off the lights, and followed her downstairs.

  Randall was sitting in the living room, waiting for me. Although he was not part of Gator’s team, he was part of mine, the only man I trusted to stand beside me other than God. He was dressed in a black suit and a crisp white shirt with a red tie; he looked good in my husband’s clothes, and he knew it, smiling from ear to ear. “Ready to roll?” he asked, rising from the sofa.

  “Couldn’t be more ready. Let’s go.”

  * * * * *

  The last time I’d been at D’Alessandro’s was on one of my many date nights with my husband. I vividly remembered dining in the private, glass-enclosed room, sipping Rosé and toasting to life and love. On this night, I’d be in that same private dining room again, but it would be all business.

  “Diamond!” Pauli the owner greeted me as Randall and I entered the restaurant. “It’s been too long.” He gave me a friendly hug, then kissed my cheek.

  “It has, Pauli,” I said with a smile, “but you still look good.”

  A light red flush fell over his olive cheeks, and he ran his fingers over his bald head.

  “I try.” He laughed. “Not bad for an old man, huh?” He pulled at the cuffs of his suit jacket, then winked.

  I laughed lightly. “Not bad at all,” I said. “Pauli, this is my brother, Randall.”

  The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

  “Well, I have your room all set,” Pauli advised me. “Alissa will be your server for tonight.” He pointed to a pretty brunette standing by the bar, dressed in the traditional D’Alessandro’s uniform, crisp white blouse and black slacks. “Whatever you need is on the house.”

  “Thank you, Pauli.”

  “I haven’t had the opportunity to express my sympathy for your troubles,” Pauli stated, staring at me with tenderness in his blue eyes. “Gator has always been like family to us, and he is missed.”

  “Thank you,” I said graciously. “I appreciate your words of kindness, and I know Gator would as well.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he stated. “Enjoy your visit and let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Pauli then escorted us through the restaurant to the private dining area. I was surprised to see that all three men I was supposed to meet were already there. One was a brother with a pecan-colored complexion and low-cut hair; he’d attended our anniversary party, and I knew from Gator’s description that his name was Tyrese. The other familiar face in attendance was a Caucasian male with dark brown eyes and tattoos covering almost every inch of his visible skin, with the exception of his face. I remembered his name was Ryan, as he worked at the convenience store where I often stopped for gas. Sitting to his left was a husky man with dark chocolate skin and a bald head, a man who I assumed to be Kendrick.

  “Hello, gentlemen,” I said politely. “I’m Diamond, and this is Randall.”

  None of them said anything before Alissa knocked on the door, inquiring if she could get us anything. I was thankful for the interruption, because I had no clue what to say next.

  “Let me get a bottle of peach Cîroc.”

  I cut my eyes at Randall, none too happy with him for sounding so greedy and needy.

  He shrugged his shoulders at me and grinned slightly.

  “Anyone else?” Alissa asked.

  I could see the apprehension in the other men’s faces. “Please order whatever you like,” I said with a smile.

  “I’ll take a glass,” Kendrick said, “to help Randall out.”

  “Make that two,” Ryan said.

  “Anyone else?” Alissa asked politely.

  “Can you bring us two of your sampler platters?” I asked. “I’d also like a bottled water, Coke, and Sprite.”

  “Sure.” She smiled and exited the room.

  The tension returned in the room instantly, until I finally spoke up: “So…who’s ready to get back to work?” I asked, looking around the table.

  “I don’t think the question is who,” Tyrese said. “We’re here. We just need to know when.”

  In my heart, I knew there were other methods I could’ve and should’ve chosen to get myself out of my financial bind, but I chose to ignore the whispers of my heart and focused on the unsettlingly loud voice that constantly plagued my mind, encouraging me, Get money! Our team was few in numbers, but they were hungry; due to the drought in the city, some were damn near starved. They were ready and willing, and all I had to provide was the opportunity for them to do the work.

  Chapter 21

  The Saturday following my meeting at D’Alessandro’s, I made the four hour and forty-two minute drive to the Holman Correctional Facility, where Gator was incarcerated. I was thrilled that I was going to see my love but also anxious to discuss our next steps.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said as soon as he saw me.

  We embraced for several seconds before sitting down at one of the plastic tables in the corner of the visiting room.

  “So…this is all you?” he asked, stroking my hair with his fingers.

  “Yes. You like it?”

  “I love it. You’re actually wearing makeup,” he observed, studying my face closely.

  “Only to cover the bruise,” I said.

  “You’re beautiful no matter what.”

  I smiled. “How are you?” I asked.

  “I’m good,” he said. “Just taking it day by day. I spoke to Clint about my appeal.”

  The mention of Clint made me slightly uncomfortable. I hadn’t had contact with him since we’d slept together. “And what’s the game plan?” I questioned, trying not to sound nervous or guilty.

  “To find new representation.”

  “Why?” I asked, practically holding my breath, praying that I wasn’t the reason.

  “I don’t know.” Gator sighed. “It seems Clint no longer has an interest in representing me and that my appeal isn’t worth his time.”

  “Hmm. Did he actually say that?”

  “No. He didn’t elaborate,” he said. “I thought maybe he mentioned something to you.”

  “No,” I said, “but I’ll speak with him.”

  “Thanks, love. I’ve arranged for you to meet with Luis in a week,” he said lowly, changing the subject. “You’ll fly into St. Maarte
n, where he’ll have a car waiting for you.”

  I nodded.

  Luis had been Gator’s connect for several years, and from the way Gator talked about him, the two of them had a strong business relationship, so strong that Luis was willing to make a one-time exception and front us on our first run.

  “Is there anything I should know about him?”

  “Just make sure you look him directly in his eyes at all times,” he said. “He’ll like you because you’re beautiful, and that’s a plus. Be polite but firm if he makes any advances.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Stay calm. Remember, baby, this is only a meeting. You’ll fly out the next day. It’ll take him a day or two to arrange the actual delivery, which will more than likely take place in Miami. Also, I have someone sneaking me a phone in, so I’ll be able to maintain better contact.”

  “Great.”

  “Any other questions?”

  “No. I got this.”

  “I know you do. I told you that one of the many reasons I married you was because I knew what you were capable of, and you have yet to prove me wrong.”

  * * * * *

  I exited the prison with my head held high, stepping swiftly through the parking lot on the way to my vehicle. Once I was safely inside, I retrieved my phone from the dashboard. I had enough things on my mind without Clint attempting to slide out of representing Gator, and we certainly couldn’t afford to hire another attorney at the moment.

  “This is Clint,” he answered on the first ring.

  “Hi. It’s Diamond.”

  “How are you, Mrs. Douglass?”

  “I’m good, just leaving from visiting with Leon.”

  “And how was your visit?”

  “It went well.” I smiled. “However, he tells me you no longer want to represent him, that you don’t wanna handle his appeal.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Why is that, Clint?” I asked, starting the engine.

  “If I remember correctly, you fired me.”

  “If I remember correctly, you stated I couldn’t afford another attorney.”

  “Sorry about that. It was a little harsh.”

  “Sometimes the truth is,” I said.