by Kenya Wright
“And where are you going again?” I asked.
“Dubai.”
“What’s in Dubai?”
He glanced over his shoulder and displayed a sad smile. “What isn’t in Dubai?”
Memories flashed in my head. We’d had some good times out there. Many women played our games there. A few slapped us. Others rushed off in tears. It was funny how none of those women had gotten through to us like Dawn. I still couldn’t put my finger on the reason why she made us both so crazy.
I looked at Max. “Are you okay?”
“I am.”
“You’re just being so serious with the card and everything.”
“I don’t want you to miss me,” Max said. “But when you do miss me, look at the Joker card, remember that you’re a dick head, and visit me in Dubai.”
“Sounds good.”
Max winked at me. “Perhaps, we’ll play another game.”
“I doubt it.”
He frowned. “Yes. The Joker is the card for you.”
That card sat in my back pocket. I’d kept it with me the whole time, since seeing Max off at the airport a week ago.
“So, your brother liked your chick too?” Smoke took out something that looked like a cigar but had a stronger herbal scent. “Do you mind if I get a few draws on my zoot.”
“Don’t smoke that in here.”
He frowned and stuffed it back in his jacket. “Granted, if I light it up, your love won’t smell any icky cigar smoke. It’ll be the good stuff. Weed and sage. I like a good blend to keep the positive energy around me.”
“Can you smoke sage and not get sick?” I asked.
“Nothing has happened to me yet.”
“Doesn’t sound healthy.”
“Has anyone told you that this obsession with your love might be unhealthy?”
My expression went to stone.
“Don’t get offended. I was only having a laugh, man.” He tapped his big chest. “Personally, I don’t have these love problems. You focus on one woman. I like to love them all.”
“Don’t worry about my obsession. Worry about my lady.”
“Yeah, bruv.” Smoke took out his sunglasses and put them on his face. “So, we’re going to find your love and make sure she’s fine. I just wanted to keep you up-to-date with the fact that she was missing.”
“Yeah, but three days?” I held his stare. He might’ve been a big man with more strength than me, but I wouldn’t back down. I was a crazy motherfucker in my own right. I’d participated in many brawls, half of the time they were bar fights that Max had gotten us into, but still, I knew how to crush skulls with the best of them.
“Three days is too long.” I didn’t even blink. It was that CEO stare. That unwavering look that told the viewer that there was no other alternatives or options. Things went my way or nothing moved. “From now on, I want daily reports.”
I glanced at the empty drawers. “No, make it hourly reports. You can text me them. I’ll have my men check flights, trains, etc. I need you to put some more guys on her friends. Make sure it’s not some girls’ getaway that we didn’t know about.”
Nodding, Smoke extended his hand my way.
I gave mine to shake. “Okay?”
He smacked it. “All day.”
“All day?”
He nodded and walked off. “Straight up.”
What just happened? I know I don’t have street cred, but I have absolutely no idea what’s going on.
I headed off with him. We’d went into Dawn’s place by the back door. She had two nosy neighbors, but after my giving them a few hundred dollars each week, they now kept their noses out of my business.
But had they seen anything?
“Smoke?” I called after him as he headed to his motorcycle.
He stopped and turned my way. “Yeah?”
“What did her neighbors say?”
“They said that three days ago, she was with some black guy around the apartment and then they left with bags.”
“What? That’s the fucking clue right there.”
Or her boyfriend.
“I’m on it, bruv. The guy she was with, he sounded like a bad man. Big guy. Thug. The old woman over there said it.” Smoke gestured to the right. “She almost called the police when she saw him, but then he’d gotten out of a limo so she left it alone. Figured that he was her driver or something.”
Limo? An African American guy? Is that Caden?
I gripped the book harder. “I don’t like this.”
“No worries.” Smoke nodded. “All day.”
I gave him an awkward nod. “All day.”
All day better mean I’m going to make sure Dawn isn’t with some other guy. If not, Smoke will need to find other employment as well as a dictionary.
Sighing, I headed off to my car with the book in my hand. Supposedly, Dawn had taken all her clothes but left her diary.
Had she left it for a reason? Was it for me? No.
That didn’t make any sense. Why did she leave? Maybe he made her go with him. If so, I’d end that real quick. Dawn didn’t get forced to go anywhere she didn’t want to.
What if she wanted to go? Then fuck it. I’m forcing her to come back with me.
Love had done this to me, carving contradictions into my heart and making me go crazy. Earlier, I hadn’t been worried that something was wrong with Dawn. Why would I be? She maintained a chill life—studying for law school in the fall, volunteering at the Miami Poverty Law Clinic, and hanging out with a few friends. She didn’t date or talk to any other men. A very simple life. She worked out, protested, and read books.
And now, all of a sudden, she’s gone for three days and her neighbors say she left with a scary African American guy. Something is up. I just need to find out where Dawn is?
I climbed in my car, closed the door, and studied her diary.
Maybe the answers are in here.
Instead of putting the diary down and driving off, I leaned back in the seat and opened the book. The more I knew about him, the more I could get this fuck-face out of her life.
Who is this Caden?
Chapter 19
Dawn’s Diary
On the day I met Caden, everything changed.
He was a man of games. Twisted mind fucks. And mental mazes that wound and turned into dead ends.
That summer, the Madder Hatter’s museum hosted an elaborate masquerade ball, inviting all of DC’s top socialites. Off for the summer from college, my best friend Sylvia invited me to stay with her for a month and come to the ball. Two serious book nerds, we’d challenged each other to take a break from the books and have flings this summer.
The moon glowed over us as hundreds of masked men and woman elegantly strolled toward the Madder Hatter. There’d been a long line of cars waiting to unload guests. We’d spent that car-wait downing some lovely glasses of champagne.
After a good half an hour, Sylvia and I had finally stumbled out of the limo and slurred wicked things to each other as we navigated the crowd and headed to the entrance. For the ball, we’d worn these huge gowns. White draped me. While Sylvia boasted a lovely pink getup. Gone with the Wind’s, Scarlet O’Hara, would’ve asked us for our costume person had she been there. Gems covered most of our masks. Ostrich feathers bordered the tops.
Cool wind blew against my skin. Too tipsy, I’d left my shawl in Sylvia’s father’s limo.
“Haunting eyes,” I declared as I held up some of my hoop skirt so I wouldn’t trip over it. “My lucky fling-man must have haunting eyes.”
“I’m taking that.” Sylvia hooked her arm around mine. “Haunting eyes are so sexy.”
“He must have a brain too,” I added
“Yes, big brain!” She let go of my arm and twirled around in her gown like a mad woman, knocking into a couple that strolled by. Thankfully, they were in a good mood and laughed along with her before continuing down the long path to the museum’s entrance.
“You’re crazy,” I said.
“A brain. Sure?” She batted her eyes. “Our lucky men will have big, huge, bulging brains!”
“Okay. That’s enough.” I laughed and pointed at her. “You’re getting water when we get inside.”
“No.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “I’m getting our dream men and trapping them both in my closet.”
“Shh,” I giggled. “Okay. What else should they have?”
We strolled forward and passed a group of women all wearing silver. Their costumes had been even more elaborate than Sylvia’s or mine. Lots of draping silk that glowed around them. And their masks glittered with crystals shaped like crescent moons.
“Sexy voices,” Sylvia said.
“Yes, and big dreams,” I added.
Sylvia’s voice rose above the crowd. “And a big cock!”
A laugh caught in my throat. “Shh.”
She’s going to get us kicked out of here.
I was in between choking and chuckling when I ran straight into Caden.
He wore a mask formed from silver and black puzzle pieces. I’d been heading toward the Madder Hatter’s entrance and he was leaving. I’d been too busy yapping with Sylvia to look in front of me. I slammed into his chest, knocking my beautiful mask to the side. And with my gown so voluminous, I stumbled back.
Caden caught me and pulled me up with those huge hands. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I steadied myself as he towered over me. My mask hung halfway off my face.
He reached his free hand up, pulled my mask off completely, and drank my face in. “Here you go, but you don’t need this.”
“Thank you.” I put the mask back on. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been looking in front. . .”
My words fell away from my tongue when our gazes met. A hypnotic vision of hazel assaulted me through the eyeholes of his mask.
Suspended, we remained there in that odd grip. Two strangers staring at each other with parted mouths. His breath—warm and scented of wine—drifted across my lips. From our position, he could bend over and kiss me. Deep inside, I wished he would. His lips looked soft and tasty.
“Would it be okay if I held you like this the rest of the night?”
“Umm.” Nervousness fluttered in my chest. “I…I should. . .”
“I understand.” His voice drummed through me. My knees weakened. He tightened his arm around my waist, bringing our bodies closer together. My heartbeat quickened.
I left his arms. “Thank you. . .again and sorry I bumped into you.”
“You’re fine.” He curved those lips into a seductive smile. “And you’re also beautiful.”
Hot, sexual energy radiated from him.
“Thank you,” I whispered back, not sure if he heard me.
“Dawn?” Sylvia walked around us, eyeing him and then me. “Well, that was quick.”
Caden leaned his head to the side. “What was quick?”
“Nothing,” I blurted out.
Giggling, Sylvia checked out Caden’s hold on me. Standing in front of each other and locked with his arm around my waist, we still hadn’t separated.
Sylvia cleared her throat. “I’ll just catch up with you in there.”
“Oh no.” I moved away from Caden, left his arms, and tried to rush after her.
“Wait.” He caught my hand.
Our skin met. Fire blazed against my flesh. It was hard for me to turn back around and face him. If those eyes had done me in seconds earlier, his touch had finished the job.
Damn his skin is soft.
“My name is Caden.”
Thank God he’s wearing a mask. I’m so horny, it just takes some pretty eyes and a hand to get me wet these days.
His words held a sensual tone. “What’s your name?”
“Dawn.”
“I was going to leave, but now I want to stay and spend the evening with you. Can I?”
“No,” I blurted out.
He was nowhere near the typical level of guy I dated. I liked astronomy nerds and comic book heads. He was the unattainable kind. He looked and smelled expensive. And appeared pampered and too confident for his own good. I avoided men like that, figuring they only liked girls that spent their days in the mirror making sure they were everything their men needed.
I was not a beauty queen type of girl. I wore yoga pants as if they were jeans. I had three favorite shirts that I alternated throughout the week, at times not washing any of them until the end of the month. My panties didn’t match any of my bras and my money didn’t match any of my confidence.
I was a regular woman who dated regular men.
“Do you have a date this evening?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then you’re free?”
I shook my head.
He had this rich brown skin and short wavy hair. A suit draped him. I could tell that it was expensive. The material appeared too soft and perfectly tailored. His clothes had been made for him. Cloth measured, cut, sewn, and altered to meet his muscular form. Although the mask hid half of his face, what I could see was gorgeous. I wanted to slip my finger along his jaw and then kiss that mouth of his. It was such an odd reaction when looking at a stranger.
And as if having money, taste in clothes, and a gorgeous face wasn’t enough, he had the nerve to be tall—well over six feet.
Had I been smarter, I would’ve rushed away right then.
“Thanks so much for catching me. Have a good night.” Sighing, I took my hand from those manicured fingers and rushed off.
Sylvia had disappeared within the sea of people. Where the hell are you? Weed and champagne fogged my head. The whole moment felt surreal. In a trance, I walked through the new contemporary art museum called the Madder’s Hatter.
I can’t believe this place. It’s so big and I haven’t even gotten inside yet. And where the hell is Sylvia?
The Madder Hatter—or MH—was nothing like I’d ever seen. The articles called it an up and coming, contemporary art museum—housing five floors and over a thousand international works. Sylvia boasted that it was the new artistic hub for the city. To me, it looked like a massive sculpture. The building was a conversational piece. Shaped into a massive glass hat, it took up two blocks of Independence Avenue. So many colors glimmered over the surface. I wondered if people crashed their cars while driving by it during the day.
Two huge fountains flanked the entrance—skeletal hearts covered in ruby red gems. Dark liquid poured out of them. Of course, the fluid was red.
“Insane and beautiful.” I paused in the doorway for a few seconds and stared at these two bone-fractured hearts of ruby pouring out blood.
That’s so romantically morbid. What was the sculptor thinking about? In fact, what was he smoking?
Giggling to myself, I entered the building and glanced over my shoulder.
Caden was right behind me, silent and keeping three feet between us.
What is he doing?
I wasn’t sure how long he’d been moving behind me. I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he wasn’t following me. Perhaps, he left something inside and walked back to get it.
Yeah, right. Get some balls. He’s following you.
I turned back around and approached the doors. Caden hurried around me and opened them.
“Thank you.” I walked through them and right before I was going to say something to him, the whole surrounding space stole my heart. It trapped my attention. I could barely breathe.
Holy fuck.
A massive garden surrounded me. On the outside, the incessant hum of the city filled the ears of people walking by. Inside, the sounds of nature flowed, even with all the masked people inside.
I looked around me and Caden had disappeared among the crowd.
See. He wasn’t following me. He just opened the door.
I strolled behind a giggling couple in front of me.
Where are you, Sylvia?
There was an earthy fragrance to the space, reminding me of Indian sandalwood. Water t
rickled. Mechanical songbirds serenaded from the canopies of chestnut trees with purple leaves.
The garden had to be artificial. Someone had painted blue skies on the ceiling. Scarlet-hued hibiscus jutted high from the ground and dangled above my head. Blushing pink roses swarmed around bonsai trees and sea green orchids. Black and white ivory crept up the stone walls. Wow. The artist had translated the poetic beauty of life into a huge installation piece.
Cool air brushed against my skin and then something else. The sensation that I was being watched.
In front of me, a tiny wooden bridge arched across a pond of rippling lavender water. Near the trickling pond, red mushrooms sprouted over white and black branches. Oh shit. On the bridge, Caden gazed at me with a hot intensity. That look tiptoed along my skin, leaving a blaze in its trail.
A couple in front of me headed toward the bridge. Nervously, I followed their path.
Maybe he’s not looking at me. Oh, stop it. He is. Okay. So what? He’s looking at me? Do I say something? I mean are you just going to look or. . . What do I want him to do? And where the hell is Sylvia!?
Slowing my breaths, I focused on anything but Caden.
There was so much color. The artist had used wildlife as their canvas and organized the flowers in perfect harmony. Pale yellow tulips dotted bright violets. Silver foliage lifted the drama. With each step, fields of pastels darkened into bolder colors.
My heart skipping, I continued over the bridge and slowly walked by him. But not before heat swelled inside of me with each step. And in the few seconds, when I was right in front of him, he pierced me with his gaze. Those hazel eyes glittered from the shadows of his mask and a low groan left his lips.
No. He didn’t moan. He. Did. Not. Moan. That would be just crazy. Stop imagining things, Dawn. I need water. That’s all it is.
I forced myself not to look over my shoulder as I continued to walk over the bridge. Sylvia was still nowhere in sight. I searched the sea of people, yet her bright pink mask and gown didn’t stand out.
Two glass figures stood on the other side of the bridge—a man and a woman. They towered over me. There was great care with each detail of color. The man had brown skin. The woman’s skin was tanned but lighter than his. They both wore robes—his was blue and hers white. But the boldest statement were the massive wings on their backs.
