No Loyalty

by De'nesha Diamond

  “I told you. To the office. I got to check those numbers. I’ll be back.”

  “I’m on my fucking knees, and you’re walking out on me?”

  “Get some sleep. We’ll talk about your behavior tomorrow.”

  “Well, hell, I should go back to the party instead of wasting my night off from the kids.”

  “No! You stay the fuck right here. You’re fucking blitzed out of your mind and have done enough damage.”

  “I’m not a child.” She jumped to her feet.

  “Great. How about you stop acting like one?” He opened the door.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Good night, Klaudya.”

  He slammed the door so loud it rang Klaudya’s ears. By the time she heard the rattle, followed by a click, it was too late. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

  She raced to the door.

  Locked.

  “Javid! Come back here!” She heard his heavy footsteps, marching away. “Javid!” She hammered the door. “I’m not playing with you! Let me out of here!”

  Javid descended the second flight of stairs and spotted a wide-eyed Ruthie, holding a tray of cookies and what appeared to be cups of hot chocolate.

  “Is everything all right, Mr. Ramsey?”

  Javid kept marching. “Klaudya is under the weather. She is not to be disturbed until I return.”

  “Sir?”

  He stopped at the door. “Problem?”

  Ruthie blinked while Klaudya’s screams rang from the upstairs. “Um, no, sir.”

  “Good. It’s for her own good. She’s fucking crazy as shit lately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where are the children?”

  “They are still in my living quarters,” she said. “We’re still in the middle of a Disney marathon.”

  “Good. I’m headed to the office. I’ll be back later.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He jerked open the front door, hesitated like he wanted to add something else but stormed out of the house instead.

  CHAPTER 16

  2015

  “Evil,” Ruthie spat. “I told you before Ms. Mathis is an evil woman. Now I hear she spinning more lies trying to blame Javid’s death on Klaudya.”

  “So, I guess I have an answer to my next question on how you feel about Klaudya.”

  “Oh, I love her. And that’s because she loved Javid. She was good for him. Sure, they had their ups and downs. Every couple does. But those two loved each other. I remember them being over the moon when they found out they were having twins.” She smiled. “I used to be in love like that.”

  “Oh? Is there a Mr. Coates?”

  “There used to be. Well, I mean . . . we’re no longer together. We divorced a few years before I went to work for Javid’s family. In fact, it was the reason why I had to work.” Her voice softened. “One day we were in love, and the next day he loved another woman twenty years younger than me. Our vows meant nothing to him.”

  Armstrong wrangled the conversation back to the subject at hand. “Do you think Javid Ramsey fell out of love with his wife?”

  “No.” Ruthie’s head sprang back up. “The real trouble started the day you brought Nichelle to live there.”

  Armstrong squirmed in his seat.

  Ruthie continued, “She suffered with those massive migraines. She popped pills left and right and washed them down with alcohol. Those two women should have never been back under the same roof.”

  Schneider said, “It certainly sounds like it.”

  “You know last year, I read after Klaudya’s arrest with that crazy concoction in her bloodstream and I believe her mother was behind it.”

  “How so?”

  “It made no sense: lithium and whatnot. Those were the same medications Mykell takes.”

  “The kid?”

  Ruthie nodded. “He’s bipolar. He was put on those mood stabilizers two years ago. It makes no sense for Klaudya to be popping them for headaches. Now, I’m no detective, but I can put two and two together.”

  “Meaning?” Schneider asked.

  “Meaning Nichelle camouflaged and switched the pills. I can’t prove it. But she did it. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Those mood swings, especially the violent outbursts, sleeping half the damn day, and snapping at the children. Klaudya never did any of it until mother dearest moved in and made her a ticking time bomb. Only she hadn’t expected it to go off on her when it did. Serves her right. Humph.”

  2014

  “Javid! Come back here!” She could hear his heavy footsteps, walking away. “Javid!” Her fists were like hammers against the door. “Man, I’m not playing with you! Let me out of here!” She kicked the door. But there wasn’t a lock invented Klaudya couldn’t pick. When she’d calmed down, she picked the bedroom door lock and went looking for her husband.

  He was long gone.

  Pissed, she contemplated returning to the party, but she didn’t want to be at the muthafucka anyway. She texted Javid to bring his ass back home.

  He ignored the texted demand, the excessive calls, and voice messages. In a flash, she was back on ten and was pacing in their bedroom like a cornered tiger with a P238 in her hand.

  Who in the fuck did he think he was? Who the fuck did he think he was dealing with? Did this muthafucka not know she could still pull any nigga she wanted? His ass wasn’t fucking special. Her mental tirade became a souped-up carousel, spinning in her head. She went into the master bathroom, searching for more pain pills. All the bottles were empty.

  I just had this one refilled. Didn’t I? She paused but couldn’t remember. The days were hazy. It could have been last week—then again, it could’ve been last month. “Fuck.” She needed something for her head. Frantic, she searched through her medicine cabinets and her purses. In the end, she had to settle for some over-the-counter aspirin. By that point, her head was set to explode. She took a handful of aspirin instead of the recommended two pills.

  Twenty minutes later, while she was still pacing the bedroom floor, she dropped, passed out on the floor, her gun inches away from her body.

  Dawn was a couple of hours off when Javid returned home. Instead of heading straight to bed, he sought solace in his home office, where a fully stocked bar awaited him. He started a fire in the hearth before taking a whole whiskey bottle over to his favorite leather chair to watch the flames crackle.

  Twenty minutes later, he was a quarter of the way through the bottle. At least his thoughts had slowed down. He wasn’t sure it was a good thing. Images of Henry Goodson and his sons murdered in the middle of a big party blew his mind.

  Sure, the drug game was rough. Javid had paid attention to the news. He’d seen the wrath and destruction of the drug wars waged around the world. They were glorified in gangster movies, TV shows, books, and music. But to see the shit play out right in front of him was another thing entirely.

  Emilio Vargas was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Tonight Javid had seen the evil lurking behind his black gaze—and it scared him. How the fuck was he going to get out of this bullshit? Could he get out? Javid took another swig from the bottle.

  “You’re up late.” Nichelle’s husky voice floated into the room.

  Javid lolled his head toward the door and then smiled. Standing at the threshold in a red lace negligee, Nichelle flashed her sauciest smile. A man would have had to be among the walking dead not to have a physical reaction to the woman, especially to those pillowy breasts spilling out of the top of her negligee and those deep curves leading to her round hips. Then there were the long legs peeking out of the deep split on the right side. In an instant, he was hard as steel.

  “A man should never drink whiskey alone. Care if I join you?” She entered the room without waiting for a reply.

  Speechless, Javid watched the roll of her hips as she sashayed to the bar for a glass. When she crossed back before him to take the chair next to him, he was in trouble. Hell, he had a whole night’s worth of trouble. What was a littl
e more?

  Nichelle sat and took her time crossing her legs to allow the split in her negligee to expose her legs all the way to her inner thigh—where Javid’s gaze glued itself.

  “You and Klaudya left the party early tonight.”

  At the mention of his wife, Javid sighed.

  “Oh, don’t be too hard on her. It could’ve been worse. Back in my day, I had a wild streak, too. I can honestly say that she gets it from her momma.”

  “Humph.”

  “Maybe in a way I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

  “No apology needed. I knew what I was getting when I married your daughter.”

  “Did you?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. Klaudya’s striptease tonight is the least of my worries. I have way more important things on my mind right now.”

  “Oh? You two have already kissed and made up?” She grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured a double.

  “I didn’t say that.” He took the bottle and continued drinking straight from its mouth.

  Nichelle chuckled and shook her head. “I’m having a hard time figuring you two out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nichelle bunched her shoulders. “On the surface, you two look like the perfect couple with beautiful children. But . . . what do you two have in common? You’re a straitlaced pencil pusher. You’re intelligent and successful. And Klaudya . . . ?”

  “Yeah?”

  “She dances well.”

  He chuckled. “She sure does. And?”

  “Nothing. Forget it. It’s not my place to say.”

  “No, go ahead. You have me intrigued now.” With each chug of whiskey, Nichelle looked more like her daughter, and his dick went from steel to titanium.

  “All right. The best I can tell Klaudya is a trophy wife. She has a beautiful face, a terrific body, especially for someone who’s delivered twins, but what else does she bring to the table? I haven’t seen too much ambition. It surprises and disappoints me. If I had the time and resources she does, I’d be in the hall of fame for having acquired the most academic degrees—or I would have started my own business. Something.”

  Javid laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Honestly?” he asked. “This conversation is hilarious. Klaudya is a disappointment, but you’re the one with the criminal record. Don’t tell me you don’t see the irony.”

  “It was self-defense,” Nichelle snapped. “If I could have afforded a halfway decent lawyer, I wouldn’t have served a day in jail. But the system isn’t designed for people like me. Once we’re in the system, we’re there to stay. Prisons only get paid per body in a cot. Fuck justice. Give them their paper, Uncle Sam.”

  “Sorry. I know your record is a sore subject.”

  Nichelle clamped her mouth shut. She did sound defensive. During the next few sips of whiskey, the only sound between them was the crackling fire in the fireplace until she announced, “I am proud of my daughter. By hook or crook, she broke our family’s history of systematic poverty. That’s not nothing.”

  Javid was done talking about his wife.

  “If my daughter isn’t what’s keeping you up tonight, what is?”

  Javid sighed. “The same thing that always keeps me up. Business.”

  “Ah.” She sipped again. “The business of financial planning, right?”

  His smile sloped. “Yeah. Financial planning.”

  She chuckled. “Man. The world has changed since I got locked up. Back in the day, they called it plain old money laundering.”

  Javid’s smile melted.

  Nichelle laughed. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Klaudya told you?”

  Her chuckle turned into a full-on laugh. “Hell, no. She thinks my ass is dumb. Maybe you do, too? I can’t imagine a drug kingpin like Emilio Vargas needing anything close to financial planning, given the life expectancy in his line of work.”

  Javid shook his head. “You’re mistaken.”

  “Yeah, okay.” She grinned. “Like I said, your secret is safe with me. I’m no snitch. Klaudya can vouch for me that much.”

  It was time to end the conversation. The whiskey had saturated Javid’s bloodstream. Maybe it was best for him to sleep in the office. Even if Javid made it out of the chair, getting him upstairs to his bedroom would take a miracle.

  “Are you in any trouble?”

  “Trouble?” he slurred.

  “You did disappear with Vargas for a long time, and now you’re marinating your liver.”

  “Nah, no trouble. If anything, my partner and I will be expanding the business.” He held up his bottle.

  “I see.”

  “I don’t know about any illegal business my client may or may not be involved in. What I do for him is above board.”

  “Riiiight.” She winked. “Of course it is.”

  “I’m serious,” he persisted.

  Refusing to call him out on the lie, Nichelle grabbed the bottle and poured herself another double. “Then I guess we’re celebrating. Congratulations.” One spaghetti strap tumbled off her shoulder.

  Javid tracked it as if it happened in slow motion.

  The room’s temperature skyrocketed. It was hot enough to set the whole state of California ablaze.

  Javid tugged on his collar even though it was already open.

  “Cheers.” Nichelle held up her glass.

  Javid struggled to lift his gaze from her creamy breasts. He was unaware of his tongue gliding across his bottom lip, but he was conscious of his dick fleeing the seams of his briefs.

  “Are you going to leave me hanging?” Her red-lipped smile spread wide. Like her daughter, Nichelle had the perfect set of fuckable lips. When she raised a brow, he lifted the bottle for a toast.

  Nichelle smiled around the rim of her glass and Javid couldn’t get the idea of fucking her mouth out of his head.

  Klaudya woke up sick.

  Even before her brain processed anything, her stomach clenched and ejected everything she’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours. She stumbled and crawled back to the bathroom, leaving a trail of vomit in her wake. She begged God for her life and hugged the cold porcelain toilet. This had to be death. In a few hours, her babies would discover her body in a puddle of her own sick. She was sure of it.

  How long she cried and vomited into the toilet, she didn’t know. By the time it was all over, she lay exhausted and dehydrated.

  Miraculously, she stood from the floor and scooped running water from the sink into her mouth. Once satisfied, she shut off the water and wiped her mouth dry with the back of her hand. When she lifted her bloodshot eyes to her reflection in the mirror, she flinched. A hot mess stared back at her.

  Disgusted, Klaudya stripped and jumped into the shower. Submerged under a stream of hot water, snippets of the night’s disaster replayed in her head. It seemed more like an out-of-body experience. None of it made sense.

  Where was Javid?

  Exiting the shower, Klaudya wrapped herself in a towel and returned to the bedroom. She stopped cold at the sight of her gun lying on the floor. What the hell did I do this time?

  She searched her scattered memory for an answer but kept ramming into a brick wall. For the second time, she asked, “Where is Javid?”

  Klaudya raced to the closet and grabbed another robe. She slipped the gun into her pocket and went to check on her babies.

  Their rooms were empty. After the first shot of panic, she remembered, “Ruthie.”

  Relief washed over her like a tsunami, buckling her knees. “Thank God.”

  But where was Javid?

  Klaudya descended the two flights of stairs, hoping to find him working in his office. Her head pounded the entire way. How much did she have to drink? How many pills did she take? She couldn’t remember. Maybe I do have a problem.

  A sound caught her ear.

  A familiar sound: Javid’s sex groans.

  She froze while her belly looped into every
imaginable sailor’s knot, and Jell-O replaced the bones in her legs.

  “Ah, shit. That feels good,” Javid moaned. A steady pig-like slurping sound followed his praise.

  Klaudya unglued her gelatin legs and followed the sound to Javid’s office. At the open door of Javid’s home office, she went into shock at seeing Javid’s head tossed back in ecstasy over his favorite chair, and riding his white pony was her mother.

  Without thinking, Klaudya palmed the P238 and fired. The first bullet missed her mother’s head by inches, but it got Nichelle’s fucking attention.

  “Klaudya!”

  “You fucking bitch!” She fired again.

  Nichelle screamed and leaped off Javid’s dick. The next shot clipped her ear as she scrambled across the floor.

  Javid, reflexes slow, sprang out of his chair in time to catch a bullet in his arm. “Fuck!” He dropped to the floor.

  “You sick muthafucka,” Klaudya wailed, tears streaming. “My mother?!”

  “Wait, baby. Hold on.” He held his hands up. “Let me—let me explain!”

  The French doors were snatched open, stealing Klaudya’s attention.

  Nichelle bolted out, her long legs erasing yards like a natural Olympian.

  Klaudya fired and took out two of the door’s glass panels. “Where are you going, bitch?” She took off after her mother.

  Javid jumped back to his feet and caught Klaudya by the waist. “Let her go!”

  Furious, Klaudya clocked him upside his head with the butt of the gun.

  Javid released her and stumbled back a foot.

  That was all she needed to resume her chase after Nichelle.

  Frantic, Nichelle didn’t know where she was going or how the hell she was going to get away from her crazy daughter. But she managed to make a half circle around the house to the circular driveway in front.

  The car. She needed to get to the rented Mercedes and get the fuck out of there.

  Nichelle glanced over her shoulder and saw Klaudya gaining ground. Doubling her efforts, Nichelle made it to the Mercedes. The mercy of all mercies, the car door was unlocked. She hopped inside and locked the door.

  Klaudya tried the door.