Cameron 7: The Finale

by Jade Jones

  No more than two minutes later, Gambino’s information popped up. Everything from his social security number, to his eye color, to where he was born appeared on the screen—right along with the date of death.

  “Alright. I’m taking you down to the station and booking you. We’ll see how cooperative you are when you’re standing in front of a judge.”

  “Bite me,” Jag said.

  The police officer shook his head in frustration and started the car. He ran into assholes like Jag everyday, and knew just how to deal with his type.

  Jag continued to stare out his window as they hopped on the Interstate. He couldn’t believe he let Cameron slip away from his fingers. One minute he had her in his possession and the next she was gone.

  An evil grin spread across his face.

  It didn’t matter. She could run all she wanted, but there was nowhere on the planet to hide. Jag was a professional when it came to finding and killing people—he was virtually inescapable. And it’d only be a matter of time before he sank his claws into her again.

  Cameron may’ve been committed to her bullshit marriage with Jude, but she’d forever be his. With no friends or relatives left in his life he refused to forfeit her too. Jag was determined to be with Cameron—even if he had to force it. Nothing or no one could stand in his way, especially some underpaid prick with a badge.

  Jag looked over at the mesh steel cage separating them. There was a small square-shaped opening for them to communicate should he have more questions. Ever so discreetly, Jag slid his cuffed hands under his bottom and over his legs, so they’d be in front of him.

  As soon as the officer looked in the rearview, he played it off like he wasn’t doing anything. The minute his gaze shifted back to the road, Jag contemplated his next move. He had no intentions whatsoever of sleeping in a jail cell.

  “I see guys like you all the time,” the cop suddenly said. “You get in these spats with your old lady and then you pretend they’re your personal punching bag. You know, for fifteen years I watched my own father beat my mother senselessly—and for stupid reasons. Supper not ready once he gets off work—nonsensical shit like that. She knew there was an underlying problem, but she never realized the magnitude—never even sought help… And then one day, he snapped and killed her.” The officer shook his head at the painful memory. “It’s despicable…what you did to that girl—whether she was your wife, girlfriend, or some girl you just bumped into—you should never hit a lady. Every time you mistreat a woman, you give up the right to be treated like a man.”

  Jag’s jaw muscle tensed after his last statement. “Have you ever been in love?” he suddenly asked. “And I’m not talking that intense but relatively shallow bullshit—I’m talking about really in love.”

  “I’ve been married for ten years. And even before then I had my fair share of passionate attachments,” he admitted. “But what you did to that girl…I could never see myself doing that to any of them.”

  Jag snorted, and his frown darkened. “Well, if you ever been in love like I been in love you’d know that it can make us do crazy, unjust things sometimes.”

  Before the officer could respond, Jag reached through the partition and strangled him with the handcuffs. The cruiser swerved uncontrollably as he fought to reach for his service pistol.

  Suddenly, it veered off the road and down a grassy slope surrounded by trees. Jag bared his teeth like a sociopathic animal as he strangled the life out of the cop. His crazy really cropped up when he started laughing psychotically.

  “You could’ve died with the dignity of a hero,” Jag said. “Now look at your stupid ass!”

  The officer soiled himself in this midst of his struggle. The blood vessels in his eyes burst, and his face swelled up like a balloon. Jag didn’t stop until he saw the cop’s arms drop limply at his sides.

  Jag wasted no time un-cuffing himself. Before climbing out the car, he grabbed the cop’s gun.

  “Hey! Is everything okay?” A concerned civilian asked. He’d stopped to make sure they were safe after witnessing them veer off the road. He was a white guy with strawberry blonde hair, and looked to be in his mid-thirties. He should’ve been taking precaution when approaching Jag, but all he could think about was lending a helping hand. “Should I call for help?”

  Jag pointed the gun at him. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll take those car keys though.”

  When he saw the gun, all of the color rushed from the man’s pale face. “H—here. Take ‘em.” With shaky fingers he held out the keys to his Nissan Maxima. He mentally berated himself for not minding his own business like he should’ve. Everyone else on the interstate kept driving. He wished like hell that he had done the same. “Just please don’t kill m—”

  POP!

  Jag put a bullet right in between his eyes at close range. The innocent man dropped where he stood in a dead patch of brown grass. After carefully wiping his prints off the weapon and handcuffs, Jag strategically planted both on the man. Someone had to take the fall. Just not him.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes after getting off the phone with Magyc, Roxie arrived at a gated private estate in Buckhead. Magyc’s Roadster was the only car present on the property, so she couldn’t figure out why he’d called her there.

  They had looked at several homes but was undecided on purchasing a property. After everything Roxie learned today, she doubted she’d be taking that step with him anytime soon—or ever for that matter.

  When Magyc saw her pull in, he opened the tall double doors that led to the grand entrance. He was stylishly good-looking that day in a long sleeve olive green sweater, fitted black jeans that were torn at the knees, and black Doc Martens boots. A $3000 Raymond Weil watch was the only piece of jewelry he sported. A .45 was tucked in the holster on his waist. Roxie would never understand how a convicted felon like him got his CCW rights restored.

  After parking next to his sports car, she quickly climbed out with set intentions. A severe scolding was on the tip of her tongue, but Magyc cut her off before she could even speak.

  “How you likin’ the exterior, bay?” he asked, happily. “Driveway’s big enough to park 15 cars. Five for you and ten for me.” Magyc laughed at his own corny joke, and Roxie remained stone-faced. She didn’t see a damn thing funny.

  Her ill-natured attitude completely flew over his head. He was so excited for her to see the house that he didn’t even notice. Taking her by the hand, Magyc eagerly led her inside the luxurious seven-bedroom home.

  There were marble floors throughout, unrivaled amenities, a resort-style swimming pool, a fully equipped gym, theater, and tennis court out back.

  “I wanted you to see it before I closed the deal on it,” he said. “This is the one. I know it, Roxie. I can feel it. More than enough space for us, more than enough room for Rain to grow.”

  Roxie frowned at the mention of her daughter. After today, he would never spend another second with her.

  “And you haven’t even seen the best part yet,” he told her.

  Roxie begrudgingly allowed him to pull her inside the living room. All of the curtains were drawn and the lights were off, making the room unnecessarily too dark. She wasn’t at all amazed by what she saw when they walked in. Spelled with lit candles on the floor were the words Will You Marry Me?

  When Roxie turned around to look at Magyc he was holding a tiny velvet box with the lid lifted. Nestled inside the white slit cushion was an 18K diamond solitaire.

  “I love you so much. And I don’t wanna waste anymore time, Rox. I’m ready to be a family. I wanna wake up next to you everyday for the rest of my life.” he said. “Let’s make it official, baby… What do you say?”

  Roxie scoffed. “What do I say?” she repeated. “I say it’ll make a damn good congratulatory gift for Tara.”

  Magyc’s smile quickly faded. He didn’t expect her reaction at all—no man would after such a carefully thought out proposal. He assumed everything was fine between them, but clearly
he was wrong. Roxie had come from leftfield bringing up Tara.

  Magyc knew that he was going to ask Roxie to marry him, and he was confident that she’d accept. That was why he wanted to break things off with Tara, before he fully committed. It was the main reason behind him pressuring her to get the abortion. He thought he’d be able to sweep his dirt under the rug, however Tara had her own hidden agenda. One that didn’t involve being deserted so he could have his happy ending with Roxie.

  “What’chu mean by that?” he asked.

  “Oh, stop it, Magyc! For God’s sake, just stop it! Stop acting faultless! You know good and damn well that bitch was pregnant! How could you do that to me?” Tears rose to her eyes as she yelled at him. Her voice cracked with overwhelming sadness and emotion. She felt like she didn’t even know Magyc. “You saw how torn up I was about the miscarriage! And you went and got some other bitch pregnant?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You knew…” Her voice trailed off after she broke down crying hysterically.

  Magyc tried to console her, but she slapped the shit out of him.

  “DON’T TOUCH ME! Don’t ever fucking touch me!” she screamed. “I trusted you! I let you in my home, in my heart—and in my daughter’s life! How could you do that to me?! I would never do something so foul to you—or anyone I claim to love! And then you have the nuts to propose?! Fuck you and that mothafucking ring! You could choke on that shit for all I care!”

  She tried to leave but Magyc stopped her. “Roxie, wait. Why you doing this, baby? You gon’ let that irrelevant ass bitch tear us apart like this? She ain’t even pregnant,” he lied. At that point, he was willing to say anything to keep Roxie in his life. He was desperate. When it all came down to it, he really didn’t want to lose her. No amount of pussy in the world was worth that. He only wished he’d realized it sooner.

  “I saw the fucking paperwork, Magyc! Stop lying!”

  “Man, that bitch could’ve had that shit doctored up!”

  “And pigs fly, mothafucka!” she said, sarcastically. “Save that shit, Magyc. I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “It’s the truth!” he argued. “She just mad a nigga ain’t droppin’ attention on her ass. Don’t let her come in between us—”

  “Your cheating ass ways came in between us! And to make it worse, you’re still standing in my face, lying about getting her pregnant! Are you gon’ tell me you were never fucking her still, too?”

  “I swear on my niece I haven’t!”

  “I’m not fucking impressed that you’re swearing on her! Your niece is dead,” she said, cynically. “What more can happen to her?”

  Magyc grimaced but didn’t comment on her statement. He didn’t want to say anything else stupid. “Roxie, you gotta believe me. I ain’t been fuckin’ with that girl, man—”

  “Stop fucking lying!”

  “I’m not fuckin’ lyin’!”

  Suddenly, Roxie snatched the pistol out his holster, and unflinchingly pointed it at him. “For once, I want the gotdamn truth!” she yelled. Tears and mascara ran down her chocolate cheeks. “Is this what I have to do?! Huh? Point a fucking gun at your head to get the mothafucking facts?!”

  Magyc tried his best to remain undisturbed, but secretly he was shaking inside. No man wanted to stare down the barrel of a gun held by a brokenhearted woman. It was every cheater’s worst nightmare.

  “Man, put that shit down, Rox,” he said, calmly. “I ain’t playin’ wit’chu. You put a fuckin’ gun in my face you better be ready to pull the trigger.” His tone and icy stare was menacing, yet he held his composure well considering the circumstances.

  “Maybe, I am,” she said. “Maybe I am ready to pull the trigger for all the pain and heartache you’ve caused.”

  Oh, this bitch really done lost it, he thought. Magyc never doubted she was a little crazy, but he didn’t think she was capable of murder. Then again, everyone had their breaking point. Evidently, Roxie had finally reached hers.

  Just when he thought she might actually shoot him, Roxie slowly lowered the gun. “I want you out of my house and out of my life. You and me… we’re done.”

  27

  A loaded Taurus rested in Cameron’s lap as she sat in an upholstered rocking chair. She didn’t feel safe leaving her children unattended so she stayed in their nursery with them while they slept.

  Although one of Jude’s bodyguards was staying in the guest suite, she would rather be safe than sorry. It was a little after 3 a.m., but she refused to succumb to slumber. After the fiasco with Jag earlier that day she couldn’t. Now that she knew he was alive, she had a hard time letting her guards down—and that included sleeping.

  Cam tried her best to keep her eyes open, but every so often, she found herself dozing off. She would catch herself in mid-slumber, and jerk awake, looking around the room petrified.

  This ain’t no way to fucking live, she told herself.

  Cameron used to sleep with a pistol back when enemies were gunning for Jude. That was why he’d hired Jag to look after her in the first place. Never in a million years would she have thought she’d need protection from him one day.

  Cameron looked over at her children’s crib, where they slept peacefully. She would die before she let them end up with Jag again. Cam’s grip on her gun tightened. She was like those kids in A Nightmare on Elm Street—desperately fighting sleep to avoid something bad happening.

  Unfortunately, with all of her efforts, Cameron was still visited by the sandman. She slept four hours before she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder.

  “Cam…?”

  Her eyes shot open and she quickly reached for the gun—

  “No, no, don’t shoot! It’s me, bay.”

  Cameron relaxed when she saw her husband standing over her. She didn’t even realize she had dozed off. Jumping to her feet, she hugged him like she hadn’t seen him in years, even though it’d only been a few days.

  “I missed you, baby,” he said, holding her tight. “I’m sorry I was away—I should’ve b—”

  “He came back!” Cameron cried. “He’s alive!”

  “Who?” Jude asked, confused.

  “Jag!”

  Jude took a step back from Cam and lightly grabbed her shoulders. “Cam, we been over this shit so many times. That mothafucka’s dead—”

  “No, he’s not! He’s alive!” she argued. “He attacked me in the parking lot at the grocery store! I had to get the police involved! I swear, on everything I love, I’m not lying! I’m not going crazy! It wasn’t a hallucination or a figment of my imagination. He was real, Jude! He’s alive!”

  “Ssh, ssh. Okay. Calm down,” Jude said in a soothing voice. Truth be told, he didn’t believe her, but he wouldn’t tell her that for fear that it would hurt her. He simply figured the stress of them being arrested had gotten to her. “If he shows up here, I plan on handling that mothafucka personally. You can bet on that.”

  Cameron looked up at Jude with tearful eyes. He wasn’t as alarmed as he should’ve been, and she knew that he doubted her. Cam felt like the boy who’d cried wolf. If Jude fully knew what Jag’s crazy ass was capable of, he wouldn’t have been so lax. If nothing else, she at least hoped he’d watch his back. Jag was out for blood…and he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

  ***

  I know when that hotline bling…

  That can only mean one thing…

  Ever since I left the city you…

  Got a reputation for yourself now…

  Everybody knows and I feel left out…

  Girl you got me down, you got me stressed out…

  ‘Cuz ever since I left the city, you…

  Started wearing less and goin' out more…

  Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor…

  Hangin' with some girls I've never seen before…

  Drake’s latest club banger had the crowd in Blue Flame amped that night. Roxie couldn’t believe she was back in her old stomping grounds. But since she had b
roken up with Magyc, she had to take care of herself and her family. And stripping was all that she knew. Like Cameron, Roxie had started dancing at the tender age of eighteen. She’d tried the 9 to 5, but it just wasn’t for her. Dancing afforded her the fast cash she’d grown accustomed to.

  Roxie had fucked with nothing but niggas who had money. What did she look like going to work at a fast food restaurant full-time? She needed big bucks to pay her heaping amount of bills and expensive rent. Minimum wage just wouldn’t cut it. Magyc would’ve flipped if he knew she was right back where he strictly forbade her from returning.

  You and me we just don't get along…

  You make me feel like I did you wrong…

  Going places where you don't belong…

  Ever since I left the city, you…

  You got exactly what you asked for…

  Running out of pages in your passport…

  Hanging with some girls I've never seen before…

  Roxie looked delectable in a hot pink one-piece with gold body chains and a collage of cupcakes on the front.

  A passing guy stopped to admire what he saw. “Damn, I bet’chu taste as good as you look,” he said. “You so bad you should spank yo’ own ass twice a week.”

  Roxie gave a courtesy laugh. He wasn’t too attractive, and his breath smelled like he’d been nibbling on pieces of shit. But all money was good money in her line of work.

  “I’m about to go up soon. After I come down and freshen up, I’mma come find you and dance for you,” she said.

  He looked her up and down one last time like he wanted to devour her whole. “Yeah, you do that,” he said before walking off.

  All of a sudden, Spider ran up to Roxie and hugged her. “Oh my God! I thought that was you who walked in earlier! Bitch, it’s been forever! You finally outta retirement?”

  Spider was the Anastasia Sokolova of Blue Flame, hence her name. That girl could do every flexible, acrobatic trick there was on the pole. She was definitely one of the top money makers in the place, and a good friend of Roxie’s.