“A warrant’s been issued for Basil’s arrest. Thus far there’s nothing to connect Kareem to the real estate fraud.”
“I don’t even know where to begin to look for them,” Troy said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “The police have looked everywhere.”
“Not everywhere! She’s out there and she’ll be home,” Dwayne said.
“I hope so. I wouldn’t tell everyone this, but I’m scared,” Troy said. “I’m really scared.”
“I don’t know if this will help you or not, but I found something interesting when I was researching those titles,” Rachel said as she reached into her bag and passed him a sheet of yellow lined notepaper.
“What?”
“There were two residential properties on the list in Basil’s name. Both were foreclosures. One deed was transferred to another couple who were both arrested on trespassing charges last month. They allegedly removed a lockbox from the front door of the building and changed the locks, then forged sale documents and moved into the residence without permission. Apparently they’d been squatting there for some time.”
“And the other?”
Rachel shrugged.
“Call that detective and give him the address,” Harper chimed.
“Yeah,” Quentin added. “The police can get there faster than you can.”
Troy pushed the speed dial on his phone, the line connecting to the detective assigned to try to find Amina and her sister. The conversation was brief when Troy suddenly shot a look in Nasser’s direction as the color drained from his face. He moved toward the door and gestured for Nasser to follow him.
“What’s wrong?” Quentin exclaimed, the room growing quiet as they all turned toward him.
“Did they find her?” Harper asked.
“They don’t know. But the detective says there’s a fire burning at that address I just gave him.”
22
Amina was having the sweetest dream. She’d been dreaming about Troy. Troy had been by her side, telling her how much he loved her, how he would always be there for her, that he would never leave her. She imagined that his kisses were like butterflies flitting against her cheeks and eyelids. His warm touch was gentle and loving. Troy kept calling to her, begging her to open her eyes and come back to him but she was scared.
Amina was afraid that if she opened her eyes Troy would be gone and she would find herself back in that room, the smell of fuel and sulfur in her nostrils, smoke blinding her eyes. If she woke up Amina feared her beloved sister would be gone and she and Basil would be fighting back the flames that had been burning around them. Dreaming of Troy made her feel better and so she drifted back into a state of bliss, refusing to let him go.
Troy dropped his forehead against the back of Amina’s hand. For two days he’d been by her side, refusing to leave until she opened her eyes again and smiled. He took a deep breath, unable to comprehend how any of this could have happened to them. He drew his fingers against her arms, over her neck, along her profile, lightly grazing the side of her face with his fingertips. He reached to kiss her nose, her cheeks, her lips, then laid his head back against her.
There was a light knock on the room door and Quentin peeked his head inside. Sitting upright Troy gestured for his brother to come on in.
Moving to his side, Quentin dropped a palm against Troy’s back. “Hey, you need to take a break. Why don’t you go home and get a shower. Maybe take a nap. I’ll stay here with Amina until you get back.”
Troy swiped a large hand over his face. “No, I’m good. I’m not leaving until she wakes up. When she opens her eyes I plan to be right here.”
Quentin nodded. “Well, I thought you would want to know that Rasheeda just got out of surgery. They finally got that bleeding stopped. The doctor says she should make a full recovery.”
“That’s good. Too bad the poor girl had to go through three surgeries to get there though. How’s Basil?”
“Mr. Salman says he’s doing well. The burns are all minor and he responded well to the oxygen therapy for his smoke inhalation. They’ll probably release him tomorrow. Then he’ll be transferred to the county jail and arraigned.”
Troy nodded. “How is Mr. Salman holding up?”
“He actually asked me the same question about you,” Quentin said, smiling. “But he seems to be doing okay. Your father-in-law is one tough bird.”
Troy smiled. “That’s what Amina loves most about her father—his strength.”
“Well, you and Mr. Salman are a lot alike. I imagine that’s one of the qualities she loves about you, too.”
Troy nodded. “I really admire him. He’s been roaming from one room to the other, like clockwork. I’m sure having one child in the hospital is stressful. Having all three of them here is unfathomable. I can’t begin to imagine what he must be going through,” Troy said. He blew a deep sigh. “Worrying about one child is bad enough.” He pressed his palm against Amina’s abdomen, his head waving from side to side.
Quentin nodded his understanding. “It’s going to be okay. You and Amina will be able to celebrate any day now.”
Troy met his brother’s stare. He could only hope Quentin was right. The news had come as a complete surprise to them all. They had been pacing the linoleum floors in the hospital’s waiting room for news on the siblings’ condition. The trio had been pulled from the house fire and rushed to the Delta Medical Center hours earlier. They had already been told that Rasheeda had been rushed straight to surgery but there was no news at all on Amina, or Basil. Then the doctor had called for Amina’s family.
Troy had stood toe to toe with Dr. Bernard Strand as he explained that Amina was suffering from smoke inhalation and a concussion from a fall. The doctor advised that she was already undergoing therapy to help her lungs and that her head injury, although serious, was not permanent. He predicted that it might take up to two weeks for her to regain consciousness but that she was stable and well on her way to recovery. And then he’d congratulated him on the pregnancy, shock registering on Troy’s face.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Elliott. I thought you knew. Your wife is only a few weeks along. Thus far it doesn’t look like the trauma has had any negative effect on the pregnancy. But we’re going to keep an eye on her.”
Harper and Rachel had jumped with excitement. Miss Alice hadn’t been able to contain her squeals.
Mr. Salman had shaken Troy’s hand, congratulating him. “I’m going to be a grandfather!” he’d exclaimed.
The moment had been bittersweet. Troy had wanted to jump with joy but he had wanted Amina to jump with him. Since then, he’d not left her side. He nodded, tossing his brother a slight smile.
Quentin squeezed his shoulder one last time before he made his exit. “If you need me, Big Brother, I’ll be right here.”
As the door closed, Troy resumed his light caresses, gently massaging her limbs. His hand skated across her stomach. He slid a warm hand up the length of her arm. Then, resting his forehead back against her side, he whispered the mantra he’d been whispering religiously since she’d been admitted. “I love you, Amina. I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. Open your eyes, darling, and come back to me.”
Basil hung his head, unable to look his father in his eyes. A glass partition separated the two men. A prison guard stood behind Basil’s right shoulder, a crass reminder of where he was and why. Nasser reached for the telephone receiver on the wall beside him and waited for his son to do the same. There was a moment of pause before Basil did, slowly pulling the device to his ear.
“Hello, Father.”
“Hello, Son. How are you?”
Basil shrugged, finally lifting his gaze to meet Nasser’s. Contrition painted his expression as tears welled in his eyes. “How are the girls?”
“Rasheeda is good. She’ll come home tomorrow. Amina is still unconscious but the doctor says she and the baby are doing fine. They’re hopeful she’ll wake up soon.”
“Baby?”
Nasser
nodded. “Your sister and her husband are expecting a child.”
Basil closed his eyes, his head waving from side to side. The news of Amina’s pregnancy suddenly made him feel even worse. He was embarrassed by his own bad behavior and it showed, the weight of it heavy against his shoulders.
He had vivid memories of the last time he’d seen his sisters. He had run back into the house but the flames were already spreading too quickly. He’d barely been able to get past the fire to reach the door and steps that led down to the basement. When he had, the door handle had burned his hands, the heat having sealed it shut tight. Rushing back out he’d raced to the backyard and the metal door that gave him access to the lower level. The smoke had been thick and the space was dark.
He’d struggled to find his way to the room in the back. The key to the padlock had been in his pocket and as he pulled it into his hands, he’d dropped it to the floor. He’d fallen down on his knees, his hands palming the concrete surface until he found it, unlocking the entrance.
When he’d pulled the door open Amina had been on her knees in prayer, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes had lifted with hope when she saw him and she’d flung herself into his arms, hugging him tightly around his neck. “There’s something wrong with Rasheeda,” she’d cried.
Sweeping his baby sister into his arms he’d admonished Amina to stay close to him, to hold tight to the back of his shirt. Breathing was difficult and he was panting heavily, trying to suck in oxygen. His eyes burned and he couldn’t see through the thick gray cloud that fogged the space. It took every ounce of energy he had to make his way back to the basement door and when he finally pushed his way through, Amina was no longer behind him.
Someone, a fireman maybe, took Rasheeda from his arms. Someone else had tried to grab him but Basil had shaken off the arm and had thrown himself back down the basement stairs, screaming out his sister’s name. Crawling on his hands and knees he tried to find his way back to her. It was only when he had absolutely nothing left, not an ounce of energy to keep him moving forward, that he realized he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks.
He had tried to scream her name but he had no voice and so he prayed that he would find her. He’d prayed over and over again. And then he’d hit her leg.
Struggling, he’d pulled Amina into his arms, half-carrying, half-dragging her lifeless body back in the direction he’d come from and then everything had gone black. As he’d fallen forward, his weight crashing down against his sister, her head had slammed harshly into the concrete steps. When he eventually came to, he was handcuffed to a hospital bed and his father was sitting by his side.
When Basil opened his eyes his father was still staring at him intently. “I’m sorry, Father,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Nasser’s own tears pressed hot against his eyelids. “How could you, Basil? How could you do that to your sisters? To our family? Rasheeda trusted you to protect her. I trusted you. How could you betray us?”
Basil hung his head again, his gaze dropping back to the floor. He didn’t have an answer, unable to find the words to explain how his own greed had put him there.
Nasser continued to berate him, his own anger all consuming. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry with his son and his disappointment was telling. “You have broken my heart, Basil. I had faith in you. I believed you and you have done nothing but lie to me! You were supposed to protect your sisters and you put them in danger instead. That is not the man I raised you to be. You are not the man I’m proud to call my son!”
Tears rained over Basil’s cheeks as he apologized over and over again. His father had always been stern and demanding but his love had been unconditional, the man wanting only the very best for them all. Basil had failed him and for the first time ever he was being made to face that fact.
A pregnant pause swelled between them. Basil’s head hung low, unable to meet the intense stare his father was giving him. Before either man could say anything else the guard stepped forward, tapped him on the shoulder, and told him his time was up.
“I will come see you again as soon as they allow me,” Nasser said.
Basil stole one last glance at his father. “Why would you do that for me?”
Nasser barely hesitated before he answered. “Because you are still my son and I love you.”
Harper watched as Quentin put the final touches on one more wedding cake. This bride’s colors were brilliant shades of orange and yellow and Quentin had captured them in the delicate flowers he’d molded from fondant, gum paste, and royal icing. She loved to watch her husband when he was in his zone. Quentin loved everything about his job and his skills were impressive. When he was feverish with joy doing what he loved, she found him sexy as hell. As if he had read her mind he lifted his gaze to meet hers. The seductive look he gave her was intoxicating.
Harper smiled brightly. “So, how long are you going to be?” she asked as she slowly played with the top buttons on the nightshirt she was wearing.
“Not much longer.”
“Good. You wife could use a little attention.”
“Then I am done,” Quentin said as he raised his eyebrows.
Harper laughed as she moved to the counter, resting her elbows on top. She dropped her chin into her hands. Quentin winked an eye at her as he affixed the last flowers atop the cake.
“Did you talk to your brother tonight?”
Quentin nodded. “There’s still no change.”
“Did he tell you Rasheeda will be going home on Friday?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“She looks great and she said she’s feeling good. Rachel and I went to do her hair today. We gave her and Amina both manicures and pedicures, too.”
“He told me. Bright red? Really?”
“Rachel picked the color. It was called Red Hot Mama.”
“You can always leave it to Rachel to come up with some mess,” he said, laughing heartily.
Harper smiled. “Rachel was able to convince Troy to go down to the cafeteria to get something to eat.”
Quentin smiled. “I bet that didn’t last long.”
“No, he came back so fast I doubt he had time to chew.”
Quentin shifted the cake into the cooler and began to clean up his workspace. “He won’t admit it but he’s having a really hard time. He’s scared and I’ve never seen my big brother scared before.”
“I was thinking the same thing. But I’m also wondering if he’s just now mourning Pop’s death, too. He never really grieved last year. Not like you and I did. Maybe the fear of losing Amina and the baby triggered something?”
Quentin shrugged. “Maybe. I think he just needs some time.”
Harper tossed him a nervous look. She bit down against her bottom lip. “Can I ask you something, Quentin?”
He eyed her curiously. “Harper, you know you don’t have to ask to talk to me about anything.”
She took a deep breath. “Does it bother you that Troy and Amina got pregnant before we did?”
Quentin paused as he reflected on her question. He tossed dirty dishes into the dishwasher then moved around to his wife’s side. He leaned with his back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. “I really hadn’t given it any thought. I’m happy for them. But no, it doesn’t bother me that they’re having a baby before we are. I don’t think we’re ready to have a baby. How do you feel?”
“I was worried for you more than myself. If it was something that was important to you then I wanted us to consider it. But I agree. I don’t think we’re ready yet.”
Quentin leaned to kiss her cheek. “Let’s enjoy being godparents to Baby Joanna and an aunt and uncle to the new baby. When it’s time for us, honey, we’ll know.” He reached for the tub of sugar, moving toward the pantry.
Harper nodded. She shifted forward and the nightshirt she was wearing rose up over the curve of her buttocks. She was wearing nothing beneath her top and when Quentin caught sight of her bare bottom, hi
s hand stalled in midair, his focus suddenly lost. An erection hardened in his slacks.
“That is not fair,” he said as he took a deep breath, gesturing with his eyes.
Harper laughed. “I told you I needed some attention.” She reached for the empty bowl that had held the buttercream icing. Quentin watched as she ran her finger around the bowl’s interior to collect the last remnants of sugary confection. She drew it slowly to her mouth and sucked it past her lips. First one finger and then another, licking each slowly.
Quentin shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his mouth. “You’re a tease!”
She giggled as she moved toward the back stairs, her backside bumping from side to side. When she reached the door she unbuttoned her shirt completely, allowing it to drop to the floor.
Grinning, Quentin pulled off his apron and tossed it atop the counter as he raced behind her. “Can’t have my baby needing attention.”
23
The sun felt like gold across her face and it made her smile. Troy’s voice was echoing in her heart and the rays of sunshine added to the joy. Amina slowly opened her eyes, allowing them to focus on the bright light throughout the room. She took a deep breath and then a second, wanting to fill her lungs with the gilded air that warmed the space.
Beside her, Troy was sleeping soundly. He sat in a chair by her bedside, his head resting against her side. One arm was tossed across her abdomen. Seeing his face brought tears to her eyes. She eased her hand over his head and gently caressed him. Troy jumped at her touch, lifting his head to stare up at her.
Amina smiled sweetly. “Hey, there!”
Troy’s eyes widened, his own grin pulling at his mouth. “Hey yourself. Where’ve you been?”
“I was dreaming about you and it felt really good.” Her gaze swept slowly around the room, taking in the beeping monitors by the bed and the line of IV fluids that was running into her arm. “How long have I been here?”
“Just over one week.”
“No wonder I feel so well rested.”
Craving Temptation Page 22
