On the living room couch, they made love for the first time since they’d arrived in Los Angeles; their kisses, and touches, and moans let the other know how much they’d been missed.
And then they took their love salsa into the bedroom, where they united again and again for more hours, until there was no more room for their pleasure.
Exhausted, they lay in each other’s arms. In just minutes, Jasmine heard the rhythm of Hosea’s sleep breathing. But though she was satisfied and wanted nothing more than to rest inside her husband’s arms, she could not.
What was this disconcerting feeling that boiled inside her? Was it all because of what she’d done to Rachel? It couldn’t be that. Rachel was out, and wasn’t even going to be charged. So why was she so concerned about her?
Jasmine closed her eyes, but still she couldn’t sleep. So she just lay in Hosea’s arms and waited. Waited for morning to come.
Chapter
TWENTY-TWO
Morning came, though it hadn’t come fast enough. Jasmine was out of the shower before the alarm rang at six.
Hosea rolled over and slapped the clock. His eyes were still filled with sleep when he peered at Jasmine pinning up her hair in front of the mirror.
“Where are you going? Running?” he asked, eyeing her jogging suit.
“I’m going to get Jacquie.”
He glanced at the clock as if he’d forgotten that he just turned the alarm off. “Darlin’, they are not even awake yet.”
“That’s okay. I was thinking about bringing the children up here for breakfast. We haven’t spent enough time with them.”
Hosea plopped back down onto the bed. “Can’t we do that in an hour or two? We don’t have to be in the hall until noon.”
Pushing the last hairpin in place, Jasmine turned to her husband. “Of course. I’ll just hang out with the kids in their suite, and then we’ll come up here about seven thirty or eight.”
When she leaned over to kiss him, he grabbed her. “The point of waiting a couple of hours for the kids is so that I can have more time with my beautiful wife. What do I have to do to talk you into coming back into bed with me?”
She pressed her lips against his as her fingers tickled his naked torso. “Tonight. We’ll celebrate after the nomination.” Another kiss, and then she was gone.
It had felt like a week had passed since she’d last seen Jacqueline. Jasmine knew it was way too early for her not-a-morning-child daughter, but it didn’t matter. She needed to lay her eyes on Jacqueline, and then after that, they’d spend some quality time as a family.
She didn’t even bother to wait for the elevator; it was just a few flights down. It took several rounds of knocking before she even heard the first sounds of someone stirring on the other side of the door.
“Who is it?” a woman mumbled through the closed door.
“Jasmine Bush.”
Jasmine heard the lock click, then the door opened slowly to reveal a short, thick, young woman wearing an oversize American Baptist Convention T-shirt and leggings. “I’m here to pick up Jacqueline Bush.”
With her fist, the girl wiped her eye. “None of the kids are up yet.” She yawned.
Jasmine folded her arms; her expression and her stance asked her question—what does that have to do with anything? Aloud, she said, “That’s okay, I’ll wake up my daughter.”
When the girl sighed as if Jasmine was intruding, Jasmine wanted to ask where her mother was, but she stepped inside, and saw bodies everywhere … on the couch, on the floor, in the chairs.
“These are all the boys.” The girl yawned again as she led Jasmine through the maze of kids. “Some of the chaperones are in there.” She pointed to one side of the suite. “And the girls are in this room.”
She opened the door and Jasmine was once again faced with bodies. Tall ones, short ones, under covers, in sleeping bags—about twenty altogether.
It was Jasmine’s turn to sigh. Wasn’t a mother supposed to know her children anywhere, anytime? It would have been easier to just call out her name, but it really was early, and these kids had probably been up until just a few hours ago.
So, she stepped over the bodies, stopping at each one, absolutely sure that the next one would be her darling daughter.
And then Jasmine got to the end of the room.
She felt her heart begin to race, but she took a deep breath and calmed herself. She turned to the girl. “Where’s Jacquie?”
The girl shrugged. “I didn’t really get to know all their names.”
“What do you mean?” Jasmine asked, her voice rising as she stepped through the sleeping bags once again.
“We just let the kids play and hang out. We didn’t ask their names.”
The panic attacked like a lion. “Jacquie!” Jasmine yelled out. Now she ripped the sleeping bags from the girls, waking each one up in the process. “Oh, my God! Jacquie! Jacquie!”
It was exactly the way it was before. Searching, calling for her daughter … and no answer.
“Jacquie,” she screamed, waking up everyone in the suite.
The chaperones dashed into the room.
“What’s going on?” a gray-haired woman asked.
“Where’s my daughter?” Jasmine cried. “My husband, Pastor Bush, brought her here last night and now she’s gone.” She tore through the girls again; most were standing up now. Then she raced into the bathroom before she rushed into the living room, waking all the boys.
“Jacquie!” she screamed. “Jacquie!” she cried.
“Mrs. Bush, Mrs. Bush, calm down,” the older woman said to her.
Jasmine whipped around and had to fight hard to keep her hands from closing around the woman’s neck. “Calm down? Someone has taken my daughter!”
Two of the chaperones were on cell phones, and as Jasmine rushed to the other side of the suite, she yelled out to no one in particular, “Call my husband!”
Not many minutes passed before Hosea burst into the room, and Jasmine was still searching—under the beds, behind the sofas, in the closets.
“Jasmine!”
She wanted to rush to him for comfort, but it was his fault that they were back in this place. “She’s gone!” Jasmine cried. “You left her here and now she’s gone!” Her intent was to beat his chest until he hurt as much as she already did. But when he pulled her close, she fell into his arms.
“We’ll find her,” he said. “I’ll find her.”
“My baby’s gone again.” She trembled in his arms. “My baby’s gone again.”
Three men from hotel security entered the room and Hosea told them how he’d dropped off their daughter last night for the slumber party.
“Would anyone else have picked her up?”
“No!” Jasmine cried. “Her nanny is in their suite with her grandmother, and her grandfather is probably still asleep.” She crumbled in Hosea’s arms. “Oh, my God. It can’t happen again. Please, God! It can’t be happening again.”
Hosea helped Jasmine to her feet, then settled her onto the couch. But though he wanted to rush through the suite himself, he couldn’t leave Jasmine—she would never survive without him by her side.
As he held Jasmine, he asked one of the security guards to call his father and Mae Frances. And while the other guards questioned the children, before they were escorted back to their parents, Hosea held Jasmine in his arms and fought his own tears.
This could not possibly be happening again.
Within minutes, they were joined by more security and hotel personnel. Then Reverend Bush, Pastor Griffith, and Reverend Penn and his wife rushed in.
“Lady Jasmine,” Coco Penn called. “Is there anything I can do?”
Jasmine didn’t respond. She didn’t move at all; she couldn’t.
And then Mae Frances came in. Without saying a word, she took Hosea’s place, and now Jasmine rested in her arms.
“The police have been called,” the visibly shaken hotel manager told them. “They’ll be here in a few
minutes.”
“And I’ve informed Reverend King,” Pastor Griffith said. “Mrs. King said that she’ll be right down.”
Jasmine closed her eyes, now wanting the sleep that had eluded her last night. She would only survive through unconsciousness … because she was never going to live a day without her daughter. If Jacqueline was missing again, she would go, too. She’d much prefer to die than to live with the pain of another day without her child.
As the hotel suite came alive around her, Jasmine wondered what the end of this day would bring. Would Jacquie be back or would Hosea have to shoot someone else?
“Jasmine!”
Not even the voice of the woman whose attention she’d craved yesterday could make her open her eyes. She had no intention of coming back. She would stay in that dark place behind her eyes, because there she could pretend that Jacqueline was coming home soon.
She felt Cecelia sit beside her, though Jasmine kept her head on Mae Frances’s chest, still not moving, only thinking.
Her thoughts were random and peculiar. Was there a Guinness Book of World Records entry for kidnapping? Would Buster, the security guard from Bling, be the one to find Jacqueline this time?
Her head was spinning with questions and with the clipped, efficient commands of the security officers taking charge, making calls, doing all that they could to find the missing child.
And then.
“Mommy!”
Jasmine’s eyes popped open as Jacqueline ran into the room past the security guards, past Reverend King, past her grandfather and father, and into her mother’s arms.
“Jacquie! Oh, my God. Jacquie!”
Everyone in the room exhaled together as Jasmine held her daughter so tight she squirmed.
“Mom,” the seven-year-old coughed. “I can’t breathe.”
That didn’t matter to Jasmine. Her plan was to find a way to live her life without ever letting Jacqueline go.
Around them, there were cheers and pats on backs as Hosea knelt next to his wife and daughter.
Cecelia stood and shouted, “And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive!”
Jasmine didn’t hear Cecelia. All she could do was say, “You’re all right,” over and over again.
“Mommy, why are you crying?”
It was only then that she relaxed her arms and sat back a bit. Her eyes took in her daughter—her beautiful daughter, who was wearing the same jeans and sweater that she’d had on yesterday.
“Where … where were you?” Jasmine asked.
Jacqueline grinned. “With Auntie Rachel. We had our own slumber party … me, Nia, and Auntie Rachel.” She pointed toward the door.
For the first time, Jasmine noticed her. Rachel. She was standing at the door, wearing a sleeveless summer dress and a sweet smile on her face.
Rachel said, “My son just came back to the room and said they were all let go early, without breakfast, because a little girl was missing. I came down here because I thought we could help in the search. I had no idea the missing girl was Jacquie.” Rachel placed her hand across her chest as if she was shocked.
“Jacquie’s been with you?” Hosea asked.
“Yes, we told one of the chaperones,” Rachel lied. “Jacquie begged to come with me and Nia and I thought since she was spending the night out anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Every eye in the room was on Rachel, though she didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m so sorry, Jasmine, Pastor Bush.”
Jasmine pushed herself from the couch. Slowly, she stepped unsteadily toward the door where Rachel stood and everyone anticipated this beautiful moment. It was no secret that the two women had been feuding: their back-and-forth duels had provided much of the excitement for the week. It had been enough to push their husbands and the Coalition’s council to the edge.
But as all watched, peace had finally come—these two women would now be able to lay aside their differences and bond over their common ground—motherhood.
Standing right in front of Rachel, Jasmine stared into the eyes of the woman she’d sent to jail. And she thought about how bad she’d felt about taking Rachel away from her children. She thought about how she’d repented for that.
But that woman had come back and taken this battle to a low that had nothing to do with the election. This had not been about making sure her husband won the presidency. This had only been about torturing her. This had only been about payback.
Rachel kept her smile sweet, innocent. But in her eyes, she taunted Jasmine.
And Jasmine took her dare.
It was quick.
It was efficient.
She cocked her right hand, and with the torque movement she’d learned in boxing class, she connected with Rachel’s jaw; the cracking of Rachel’s bones echoed through the silent room. The impact made Rachel stumble back, one step, two steps, three steps, until she fell flat on her back.
Knocked unconscious. At least for the moment.
Chapter
TWENTY-THREE
Rachel! Rachel!”
Rachel heard the voices, but they sounded like they were coming from far away. She squinted. Tried to get her bearings back. Slowly, she opened her eyes as the words grew louder. Why were these people screaming her name? Why was everyone standing around staring at her? She glanced around as she blinked back into focus. And what in the world was she doing on the floor?
“Are you okay?” Cecelia King knelt over her, lightly slapping her face.
“I … I’m fine,” Rachel said, her hand immediately going to her jaw, which screamed with pain when she spoke. “What happened?” she asked as she tried to sit up.
Before anyone could answer, she looked over to see Hosea holding Jasmine back. The old lady that was always with them was also glaring at Rachel. Suddenly, everything came rushing to light.
She’d been coldcocked by this crazy trick.
“You hit me?” she yelled at Jasmine.
“I sure did,” Jasmine spat. “And you’re lucky that’s all I did!” She was clutching her daughter. “How dare you take my child?”
“Mommy, I asked to go,” Jacquie whimpered. “I’m sorry.”
Rachel’s first instinct was to get up and charge Jasmine like a raging bull. Rachel had changed, but not so much that she’d allow someone to knock her out and not retaliate.
“Oh, you have lost your mind,” Rachel said, struggling to get up off the floor. She was just about to race over and rip that high-dollar weave out of Jasmine’s hair when she noticed Cecelia helping her up. She looked around the suite. Every eye in the room was on her, including the police officers standing in the corner.
No, a catfight would only make them both look bad. Taking the high road would speak so much louder. Well, taking the high road and showing Jasmine what jail felt like.
“Officers,” Rachel said, motioning toward the police, “I want this lady arrested for assault.” She rubbed her sore jaw for dramatic effect. “You witnessed it. Everyone witnessed it and I want to press charges.”
Hosea immediately turned to Rachel. “Rachel, that’s not necessary.”
“The hell it isn’t! She hit me for no reason! I’m probably going to have to have surgery to repair my jaw. Come to think of it, not only do I want to press charges, but I’m going to sue you for damages as well!” she shot at Jasmine.
“Well, let me give you some more injuries to add to your lawsuit!” Jasmine said, charging toward her.
Hosea grabbed Jasmine and pulled her back. “Jasmine, calm down.”
“Calm down! This woman deserves to have her throat slit for what she did! And I’m just the person for the job.”
“Do you see this!” Rachel shouted to the officers as she stepped behind Cecelia. “Add terroristic threats to the charges!”
“Jasmine”—Hosea shook his wife—“Jacquie is safe and sound. There is no need to get out of control.”
“Are you freakin’ kidding me? This woman st
ole my child.” Jasmine turned to the officers. “If anyone needs to be arrested, it should be her for kidnapping!”
“Kidnapping? I didn’t kidnap anyone!”
By this point, tears were streaming down Jacquie’s face. “Mommy, this wasn’t like when the bad man had me. Auntie Rachel didn’t kidnap me. I asked to go.” Jacquie trembled as she spoke.
“She ain’t your damn aunt!” Jasmine bellowed.
“Jasmine, you’re scaring her.” Hosea hugged his daughter tightly. “Sweetheart, it’s fine. Mommy was just worried when she couldn’t find you.”
“I was playing with Nia.” Jacquie sniffed. “She’s my friend now.”
“I would never hurt Jacqueline,” Rachel protested. That much was true. Jacqueline had had a wonderful time. They’d popped popcorn and watched The Princess and the Frog until all three of them fell asleep. Of course, Lester had questioned why Jacquie was there, but Rachel had assured him that she’d wanted to come with Nia. “I told the chaperone that I was taking both girls because they were ready to go. I even left a note at the front desk,” Rachel said innocently. She’d known Jasmine was going to blow a gasket, so she’d covered her bases last night and left a note to be delivered to the Bushes that Jacqueline was with her. She just didn’t bother telling anyone that she’d asked that the note be given to the Bushes upon checkout.
Jasmine’s nostrils flared as she glared at Rachel. Hosea gently patted his wife’s arm. “See, honey, this was all a misunderstanding.”
Jasmine snatched her arm away.
“Do you really think I would do anything to Jacqueline?” Rachel asked, feigning shock.
“I don’t know what your crazy behind is capable of!” Jasmine said.
“Oh, we already know which one of us plays dirty,” Rachel replied, her tone stiffening.
“Stop it!” Cecelia finally interjected. “The two of you just stop it! This is ridiculous.” She glanced around the room at the twenty or so people enjoying the show. And with the commanding presence that seemed to accompany her every move, she stood tall, her voice firm. “The Coalition will not be reduced to these types of catfights.” She focused her attention on Rachel. “I am sorry about your ordeal at the mall yesterday. But I was there and it was all a big misunderstanding.” She turned to Jasmine. “Just like Jacquie’s disappearance was a misunderstanding. The girl has told you it was her idea to go.”
Sinners & Saints Page 18
