by Meghan March
He loves me.
I love him.
We have a future together—as soon as I’m safe from Antonio Reyes.
Moses is hunkered down with Trey and Jules, chasing another lead, when my phone rings. I check the display and am shocked to see Celeste’s name on it. The old woman has never called me before. I even forgot we traded numbers.
Then again, I usually see her at least a few times a week, so she’s never needed to call me.
I tap the screen to answer. “Hey, Celeste. Everything okay?”
“So you are alive. Mercy me. I was starting to wonder if my gut was steering me wrong.”
“I’m alive. I’m . . . dealing with some heavy shit right now. That’s why I haven’t been around.”
“I can sense it. Even though I haven’t seen you, I’ve felt it every day. Been waiting for you to come by so I could see for myself that you were okay, but I got tired of wondering and waiting. That’s why I’m calling.”
A wave of warmth passes through me from the concern in Celeste’s voice. She truly cares. I’ve always thought she did, but now there’s no question in my mind.
“It’s good to hear your voice, Celeste. I really appreciate you calling. I’m fine. Safe. Just . . . flying under the radar for a bit until we sort some things out.”
“That explains the card then.” Her rough voice carries a note of something that puts me on edge.
I freeze in my tracks, having been wandering around the suite while we spoke. “What card?”
“I got a powerful urge that I had to draw a card for you, to make sure you were safe, so I did.”
A prickle of concern raises the fine hairs along my arms. “What was it?”
“The Hanged Man,” Celeste answers quietly.
A beat of silence thrums between us as I attempt to call up the exact meaning of the card from memory, but I don’t get that card often and I’m coming up blank. I can only picture the guy hanging upside down from a branch, but not what that symbolizes.
“What does it mean exactly?”
Celeste releases a wheezy breath. “Traditionally, it refers to surrender, sacrifice, or being stuck. He’s not going anywhere while he’s hanging upside down. Then again, some interpretations say he has the ability to get himself out of it too.”
“What does it mean for me, though?” I ask quietly as my mind goes crazy, wondering about the possibilities.
“You said you’re lying low for a while to sort some things out. It could mean exactly that. You’re suspended in time because you haven’t yet chosen which direction you’re going.”
“Could?” I need Celeste to clarify, because I’ve got all sorts of uneasy feelings rushing through me now.
“Yes. Could. You know the cards aren’t always clear.”
I swallow and realize my mouth has gone totally dry. “What about the surrender and sacrifice part?”
“Ultimate surrender or self-sacrifice,” she murmurs, like she’s talking to herself and not to me. “What did you get yourself into, Magnolia, that would require you to sacrifice yourself?”
Instantly, the image of the blood-encrusted knife Cavender slid across the table at the police station pops into my head.
“I . . . I told you what I did in the elevator. But what I didn’t tell you is that someone else wants revenge for that now. He wants me to pay. He . . .”
“Oh, child,” Celeste says, her voice calm but radiating concern. “How someone else reacts is not your doing. You didn’t have bad intent. You just protected yourself. Isn’t that right?”
I think of the night in the elevator when Ricardo Ortiz lunged at me, determined to end my life. I didn’t kill him with bad intent. It was him or me. Celeste is right. All I did was protect myself.
I didn’t ask for him to attack me. I didn’t make that choice. I just reacted to it.
Kill or be killed.
“No,” I tell Celeste. “There was no bad intent on my part. I only did what I had to in order to survive.”
“Then take a deep breath and forgive yourself for it. Even if you didn’t realize it, you’re carrying around something that’s drawing more bad things to you, child. You gotta let it go. Forgive and move on.”
“I didn’t realize I was.” Admittedly, the guilt over Desiree floods my mind, but I haven’t given much thought to how I feel about killing Ortiz. It’s not exactly something I want to spend a lot of time thinking about.
“That’s why I felt the need to call you so strongly. You don’t need my permission, Magnolia. You just need to be reminded there are steps you haven’t taken that you need to address. That explains the card too. You’re hanging there, not sure what to do next. Free yourself by forgiving yourself.”
“I can do that,” I say, even though the words get caught in my throat and I have to force them out. I’ll unpack the rest of my emotional baggage when this nightmare is over.
“You can. You’re a strong woman. Only something big and powerful would tie you up in knots. But you’re stronger than that. You can do this. Just be true to yourself, chère.”
I swallow again, but the lump in my throat won’t go away. “Thank you, Celeste. I needed to hear that.”
She cackles. “Celeste knows. I’ll leave you be now. Do what you need, get unstuck, and move on.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as the call ends.
I’m left holding my phone in nerveless fingers, wondering how in the hell Celeste knows me so well. I take a few steps toward the bed and drop onto it, saying a silent prayer for forgiveness over taking another’s life.
It never occurred to me to forgive myself for that night, but as soon as I will it so, it feels like a weight has lifted.
Thankful, I say another prayer for Celeste, to keep her safe and healthy.
When I stand, it’s like new purpose flows in my veins. I need forward movement. No more stagnation. Things need to happen now, because I’m tired of waiting for the answers to come to us. We have to go out and get them.
With that knowledge driving me, I search the compound for Moses. Maybe there’s something I can do to help find this asshole so we can all move on with our lives.
It’s time.
Thirty
Moses
When Magnolia opens the door to what Trey and Jules have dubbed their war room, my lips tug with a smile—until I meet her steely gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m just . . . I’m ready for this shit to be finished. What do we need to do to draw this guy out? We can’t hide out and wait forever. I’m no coward.”
Magnolia has no idea Trey dug up some new information on our guy, so I’m not sure what’s fueling her words.
“We’re not just hiding out and waiting. We’re finding solid leads so we can end this shit safely,” Trey says. “You’re probably not real impressed with my skills right about now, but I’m fucking good. It’s just that this guy did everything right and stayed off the grid. Whoever he hired to wipe him out didn’t come cheap. At least, now we know why he was so fucking paranoid.”
Magnolia’s attention cuts from me to Trey. “What do you mean? What do we know now?”
I hold out an arm, and without question or hesitation, Magnolia comes to me. “He’s never been in the US legally, and we’re pretty fucking sure he did a stint as a sicario.”
She blinks up at me. “What the fuck is a sicario?”
“A hit man for a cartel,” Trey says, his tone grim. “But this dude was smart as fuck. He came up with a plan to get out, which doesn’t usually work, but he made it happen when he faked his own death. It was real enough that the cartel he worked for bought it. Not that it was hard for him to do the wet work himself, considering all the bodies he’d have access to.”
My gaze darts to Trey, hoping he understands he’s shared enough. Magnolia is no shrinking violet—if anything, she’s iron strong—but she still doesn’t need Trey to paint a picture of the violence this guy was involved in.
“How will this help us find him?” Magnolia says, asking the million-dollar question.
“Now that we know he’s got a connection to the cartel—and which one—there’s a possibility they’d like him back. We can pull Mount’s connections in and see if they’ll offer assistance.”
Magnolia gapes at me like I’m crazy. “I thought that was too dangerous. Do we really want to go down that road?”
“We’re all ready for this to be over. Aren’t you?” The question comes from Jules, and carries more attitude than it should. If I could reach him, I’d smack him upside the head.
“Hey. Everyone. Chill the fuck out. We’re getting stir crazy and we all want this over, but we gotta work with what we have.” I look into Magnolia’s eyes. “I’ll talk it all over with Mount. If we can find a different way, we will. But I’m not letting our lives sit on hold much longer. We’re going to finish this, one way or another, so we can all move on.”
Her lips press together, and she nods. “Okay. Whatever we have to do to make that happen.” She starts to pull away from me as the phone in her hand vibrates.
Magnolia’s attention drops to the screen, and I read the name at the same time she does. Norma.
“It’s been one interesting morning so far. Let’s hope this is uneventful.”
As soon as she says that, something twists in the pit of my stomach, but I have absolutely no idea why. As much as I want to keep my arm wrapped around Magnolia, I let her go so she can step away and answer the call.
Trey’s fingers fly over his keyboard as Magnolia greets her great-aunt’s caretaker with a smile in her voice.
It doesn’t last long, though.
Five seconds after she says hello, Magnolia spins around to stare at me, her expression stricken. “She’s . . . she’s dead?”
Fresh tears spill from her eyes and streak down her face as I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against my chest. The phone tumbles from her grip, but I squat down to grab it and put it on speakerphone.
Norma’s voice comes over the line. “I’m so sorry, Magnolia. You two had your issues, but she loved you.”
A sob escapes from my woman, and her fingers dig into my shirt. “How?” she asks in a broken whisper.
“We’re not sure yet, but knowing your aunt Bernie like I did, she passed in her sleep just like she planned.”
I clear my throat and speak up. “Hello, Norma. It’s Moses. You’re sure it was natural causes? No sign that anyone else has been there or broken in? Nothing disturbed?”
“Oh . . . hello there, Moses. Um . . . no, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The house was all locked up tight when I got here. It doesn’t look like anyone could’ve gotten in. Why would you ask that, anyway?”
Magnolia drags a hand over her face to wipe away the tears. “No reason, Norma. He’s just thinking of all the possibilities. She was in her bed when you found her?”
“She sure was. She looked just as peaceful as could be. Angelic, almost, if you’d believe that.” Norma lets out a gusty laugh. “Not that you probably will. But don’t be sad. Bernie was ready. She’d been waiting for her time to be called up. She was tired. I think she really was having strokes, and she knew it. Something was affecting her, even though she said she was fine. It was her time.”
Magnolia shakes against me, and I wish I could absorb her grief. Jesus Christ, this woman has been through too fucking much.
“Th-thank you for saying that. I know she was ready. She said it all the time.”
“Yeah, she did. She was a stubborn soul, so I’m not surprised she got to go out on her own terms before her quality of life suffered too much,” Norma adds.
“Did you . . . did you call someone?” Magnolia asks. “Are they on their way?”
“Yes. I called 9-1-1 first, just like they say to, and then my nephew, he’s with the fire department. Everyone should be here shortly. If you want to see her, though, before they . . .”
Magnolia shakes her head. “I . . . I don’t know if I want to see her like that. I need to remember her spitting fire and telling me everything I’ve done wrong in my life. If it’s all the same to you.”
I squeeze Magnolia tighter as Norma replies.
“Oh, honey. You keep your memories just where they are. Old Norma will handle everything. And just so you know, Bernie sensed it was coming. Just yesterday, she had me find the book with all her requests on the funeral. She changed a hymn and told me to keep it out because I’d be needing it myself soon.”
A tremor ripples through Magnolia’s body, and it takes a second before the quiet chuckle follows. “Of course she did. Controlling it all, to the very end.”
Norma’s voice seems to lighten. “That was old Bernie. Bless her. I’m to give the book to the funeral home and tell them to make a copy for the pastor. She was adamant that she did not want a jazz funeral, no matter what you say.”
Magnolia’s shoulders shake. “Like I would force that on her.”
“You know, honey, I think she secretly hopes you’ll do it anyway. She always said it was too much revelry on a somber occasion, but I think it’s exactly what an occasion like this calls for. Even if it’s just a few of us in attendance.”
Magnolia glances up at me. “We’ll talk about it. When does she want the funeral?”
“On a Saturday, of all days. So we’ve got a bit of time being it’s only Tuesday. I’ll get everything sorted out. You best not worry about a thing because Bernie left everything real clear.”
“God love you, Norma. She was so lucky to have you. And so am I.”
“God love you too, child. It’s been a privilege. Now, I see that nephew of mine coming down the street. He’s going to make sure everything goes smoothly for us here. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Thank you, Norma.”
The call ends, and Magnolia’s phone falls to the carpet again as she wraps her arms around me. Her bones seem to go liquid as she loses her grip.
“I got you, mama. Come on, let’s go back to our room.”
She doesn’t say anything as Jules jumps up and rushes for the door, opening it for us.
When we step into the hallway, Magnolia finds her footing and walks in a straight line, but I’d bet everything I have she’s not seeing what’s in front of her. She’s just going through the motions.
When we turn the corner, I catch sight of Keira’s red hair bouncing along her shoulders ahead of us. She turns around, presumably at the sound of footsteps. Her eyes go wide when she spots Magnolia walking rigidly beside me.
“Something wrong?” she asks, immediately locking in on us both.
Magnolia shakes her head. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
That’s when I realize her go-to is always fine. This woman, who is stronger than any other human I’ve ever met, hates showing weakness, even to her closest friends.
But Keira sees right through her. “What happened?” She glances at me, her expression sharp, like she’s ready to go to battle for her friend, and she’s relying on me for answers or to determine if I’m responsible for Magnolia’s current state.
Three beats of silence pass as I let Magnolia find the words. With each moment, Keira stiffens further.
“Bernie passed in her sleep. I just got the call,” Magnolia says, her voice steady and unemotional despite the chaos undoubtably raging inside her.
“Oh, Mags. I’m so freaking sorry.” Keira rushes forward to embrace her, whether Magnolia wants it or not.
“Bernie knew it was coming,” she says, her voice wavering. “She always knew everything. And of course she wouldn’t want a jazz funeral. She wouldn’t want anyone to have a reason to be happy on the day she was buried.” The pain in Magnolia’s voice completely changes the tone and meaning of the words coming out of her mouth.
“Of course she wouldn’t,” Keira says quietly, rubbing Magnolia on the back. After a few moments, she lifts her head to look at me. “Is there any
thing I can do to help? The restaurant can cater a lunch. We’ll make everything easy for you. Whatever you need.”
Magnolia pulls back from the hug. “Norma says Bernie has it all planned. Probably right down to the last detail. She even got her book out yesterday and gave it to poor Norma. How the hell could she have known it was the end?”
Keira’s head slides back and forth slowly, and Magnolia faces me.
“How could she have known?”
“I don’t know, mama. I’ve never been that age before. But I gotta believe sometimes people just know. Or maybe it really was her trying to control things to the very end. Either way, she was ready. Bernie made that clear.”
Magnolia nods twice, and tears well in her beautiful eyes. “I think I want to lie down.”
“Of course,” Keira says with another quick hug. “If you need anything at all, just let me know. We’re all here for you.” She kisses Magnolia on the cheek and pats me on the shoulder. “Take care of her.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. We’ll holler if we need anything.”
I lead Magnolia into the bedroom, and as soon as the door closes behind us, she releases her hold on me and stumbles toward the bed.
“Mama—”
She waves me off, but instead of sitting on the mattress, she drops to her knees beside it, burying her face in the blanket on top. The sound of her weeping all but rips the heart from my chest.
Thirty-One
Magnolia
Moses kneels beside me on the carpet and wraps his heavy arm around my shoulders, but I can’t look up. Not when I’m falling apart.
Grief, the likes of which I’ve never felt before, tears through me with its angry claws, shredding my insides to pieces. I’m afraid to open my eyes, because I’ve never experienced this kind of pain before without being broken and bleeding.
I don’t want him to see how shattered I am right now.
Goddamn you, Bernie. Goddamn you. You knew it was the end, and you didn’t hold me close and tell me you loved me. You didn’t tell me you were sorry for throwing me out of your house when I was sixteen. Goddamn you for leaving me. You were the only family I had left. Damn it, I mattered to you, but you never gave me the words, and I didn’t know, until this moment, how badly I needed them.
