by Ashley
“So arrogant,” she said, smiling as she pulled on his chin, gripping it between her fingers and pulling his face to hers again.
The ringing of her cell phone was like a reality check. She pulled back and he finessed his lips. He could still taste her there. She was a flavor he didn’t know he had an addiction to. A craving. He had developed a craving for Sutton LaCroix.
Sutton pulled her phone out of her purse and read the notification on her screen.
Ashton
911
“I’ve got to go,” she said, almost panicking. “I won’t be able to make the afternoon meeting. I have to take care of something.”
West nodded, his fingers still on his lips, where the taste of her lived. “Let’s get back.”
Sutton was preoccupied on the boat ride back. When they reached the buildings, she paused. “I’ll miss your meeting, but I’ll have my office send over—”
West snatched her by the waist, interrupting her, his lips covering hers. Sutton melted into him.
“Take my company car. My driver will pull around to take you wherever you need to go,” he said. “I don’t want to hear from you secondhand. I want to hear your plan from your mouth, in person. I’ll have my assistant call your office to check your calendar.”
He didn’t even give her time to respond before he headed back toward the office. He didn’t know what it was about Sutton, but ever since he had met her, she had become a welcome distraction. Today, he appreciated the energy they’d exchanged because it had given him a few hours of reprieve, putting a little life back into his world where nothing but death surrounded him.
* * *
Sutton pulled up to the location that her sisters had sent a pin to. It was a seedy motel. Sutton frowned as she peered out the window.
“Should I wait, Ms. LaCroix? I was instructed to be available to you as needed,” the driver said.
Sutton glanced at the driver in surprise. “Just for today?” she asked.
“Indefinitely,” the man replied.
Sutton’s brows lifted. She didn’t know how to react to that. “What’s your name?”
“Leslie,” he answered.
“Thank you for the ride, Leslie. You don’t have to stay. I can find my way back to my car,” she insisted.
Leslie pulled out a card and handed it to her. “In case you need to call for the car,” he said.
She tucked it in her handbag and then gave a friendly smile as he climbed out to open her door. She approached room B, looking around, frowning.
The closer she got to the door, the more commotion she heard. She was glad she was the only person around. The screams from the other side of the door were audible from the outside.
Sutton knocked urgently. “It’s me!” she called out.
The door swung open and Gadget stood before her covered in blood.
“Gadget, what the fuck happened?” she asked, rushing into the room. “How the fuck did this go wrong?”
“Aghhh!” Ris shouted at the top of his lungs as Ashton pressed a saturated towel to his bloody stomach.
“I can’t stop this bleeding!” Ashton hissed.
“He needs a hospital!” Honor shouted.
“No hospitals,” Ris groaned. “I dropped a body at the scene. You take me to a hospital and that’s my ass. You got to fix me up here.” Ris lifted his neck slightly and then let his head fall weakly against the bed. “I’ma die in this bitch if you don’t plug that hole.”
“I’m trying!” Ashton panicked. “This is bad, Ris!”
“Shut the hell up! Let me think!” Sutton shouted. “Put something in his mouth for when he screams. They can hear you all outside! We have to bring a doctor here. Honor, did you drive?”
“Yeah,” she said, eyes pooled with tears of fear. She had never seen so much blood before.
“Let’s go. Y’all keep him up and alert and keep putting pressure on that wound,” she ordered. Sutton was terrified but someone had to be in control. She and Honor rushed out of the room.
“You know someone?” Honor asked.
“No, but we’re going to find someone. Everyone has a price. Go to Memorial City,” Sutton instructed.
Honor hit the freeway. She gripped the steering wheel. “What if he dies?”
“He won’t,” Sutton said, voice shaking.
“What if he does!” Honor was shouting.
“Just drive!”
Honor was making her panic. She had gone from a fairy tale to fear. If Ris died, she would have more blood on her hands. That couldn’t happen. She didn’t know if she’d be able to bear the weight of more sin. She wasn’t a killer. She was a businesswoman, but lately her hands seemed to get dirtier and dirtier. It was like once she’d started down that path, it got more slippery. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t turn back now. The divers had to be taken care of to erase any chance the explosion could come back on her. She was too far in. She told herself Ris would be the last crooked thing she indulged in, but she had no idea that she was a queen pin in the making.
They pulled into Memorial City Hospital’s parking lot and Honor turned off the ignition.
“I can’t go in there like this. I have blood all over me,” Honor said.
“Okay,” Sutton said, eyeing the entrance to the emergency room. “Okay, okay. Turn on this car and keep it running. Be ready to drive when I get back.”
“What are you going to do?” Honor asked, eyes wide.
“Whatever I have to do,” Sutton replied.
Sutton slammed the car door and hurried across the parking lot and through the sliding doors of the ER. Her eyes scanned the room. There were nurses and doctors everywhere. Sutton’s eyes danced around. She didn’t have time to waste. If Ris bled out, things would take a turn for the worst. She couldn’t leave this building without a solution.
She didn’t know which of these people were skilled enough to help. She just had to roll the dice. Women and men in scrubs and Crocs were all over. Mostly white, some Asian, one black. A woman in gray scrubs. When Sutton saw the red-bottom soles beneath the shoes of the Hispanic girl who emerged through the double doors, she knew she had found her girl.
Sutton rushed up to the woman. “Please, help me? Are you a doctor? My sister is in the car and needs help. She’s about to have a baby.” Sutton pleaded with the woman like it was a true story.
“Calm down. I’m going to help you. Show me where she is,” the woman said.
Sutton rushed the woman out of the hospital. “Please hurry. There’s a lot of blood,” Sutton exclaimed. She opened the driver’s door and the woman got down on her knees.
“Are you okay? Where is the blood coming from?” she asked.
Sutton pulled a hairbrush out of her bag and stuck the handle into the woman’s back.
“Don’t move,” Sutton said, praying the woman didn’t test her because she wasn’t armed with a damn thing. Nevertheless, the handle of the brush held the threat of a gun when paired with her menacing tone.
“Oh my God, please, please. What do you want?” the woman asked as she stood slowly.
“Don’t turn around,” Sutton said. “We just need your help. I have a friend who’s hurt, and we need a doctor.”
“I’m not a doctor. I’m just a resident! Please, I have a new baby. I don’t want to die,” she said.
“She’s not even a doctor!” Honor exclaimed. “Fuck are we supposed to do with a nurse?”
“Walk around the car and get in the passenger seat,” Sutton instructed. She sounded calm. She seemed in control, but inside she was freaking out. “You turn around and I’ll blow your head off. Are we clear?”
“Yes!” The woman’s terror was measurable, and Sutton felt like shit. She got in the rear seat behind the resident and put the brush to the back of the woman’s head. “You move and I’m going to put a bullet through your head. Put your hands on the dashboard.”
“Please, please,” the woman begged.
“Drive,” Sutton ordered. Hon
or’s hands shook violently as she sped out of the parking lot. “Do the speed limit!”
Honor slowed down and kept her eyes on the road.
“What’s your name?” Sutton asked.
“M-m-maria Ramos,” she stammered. “Please don’t do this.”
“Nobody’s doing anything. We just need you to help our friend. If you do what we ask, you’ll be back at work tomorrow.”
The woman whimpered the entire way to the hotel and Sutton kept her apprehended with the threat of a pretend gun.
“I’m going to put my gun away because I need you to be able to do your job. If you scream or if you do anything to get attention, I’ll kill you.”
Honor turned to her, looking at her like she was crazy. Sutton shrugged. She was improvising as she went.
They climbed from the car and Honor led the way to the hotel room. She used a key to enter.
“About time! He won’t wake up!” Gadget said.
“He just passed out,” Ashton said. “What are you just standing there for? Get over here and help!”
Maria looked back at Sutton. “We need your help,” Sutton said. “Please just do what you can.”
The malice in her voice was gone.
Sutton and her sisters watched anxiously as Maria went to work, assessing the damage.
She had no surgical tools. Sutton had to make a second trip out to meet Maria’s colleague who snuck a medical bag from the hospital. Through it all, Ris never woke up, but Maria assured them he was still alive. She pulled out the bullet, wrapped him up, and ran a makeshift IV, setting him up in the motel bed as if he were in a hospital room.
“Why isn’t he waking up?” Gadget asked.
“The body can only tolerate so much pain,” Maria explained. “The next twenty-four hours are most critical. If he makes it through that, he should wake up. Until he does, please keep these bandages changed. I’m authorized to write prescriptions. If you take me back to the hospital, I can give you something for his pain because when he wakes up, there will be a lot of it.”
“Then you need to stay at least through the night,” Ashton demanded.
“Please let me go,” Maria pleaded. “I swear I won’t say a word. I promise.”
Sutton pulled out the hairbrush she had used to trick Maria. “There’s no gun,” she said. “We just really needed your help. I’m sorry that I scared you but I’m grateful that you helped him. If you check your bank account, fifty thousand dollars has been wired into your account. It isn’t dirty money, so you don’t have to worry about not spending it. It’s a gift. From me to you. Honor, take her back to the hospital,” Sutton instructed.
Maria wore a look of relief and shock as she stared at Sutton. She bypassed Sutton and headed toward the door. Before exiting she stopped to face Sutton once more. “If you need help again…” Maria paused and glanced around the room. She was full of uncertainty, Sutton could tell, but the money was attractive, it made her fear ease. “I’d be willing to help,” she finished. “You can’t come to my job, though. If you take my number, you can call me whenever you need something like this again.”
Sutton sat there in shock, but she took down the number just in case. Maybe West had been right. Every woman has a price.
CHAPTER 13
West looked around the Fifth Ward of Houston as his driver navigated the streets of his old block. He remembered everything about this neighborhood. It had been home for a long time. As grateful as he was to be adopted by the Sinclairs, this still felt organic. He hadn’t been back in years and he hated that the circumstances of death had become his motivation to do so.
His Escalade stopped in front of a one-story bungalow. Green paint and brown shutters decorated the small house. It was the ugliest combination on the block but one of the most beautiful women he knew lived inside.
Leslie idled the car and got out to open West’s door. There was a porch full of young wolves eyeing them.
“I won’t be long,” West stated. He reached for the leather bag that sat on the seat and then approached the house.
The men on the porch moved inward, closing the pathway so West couldn’t pass.
West scratched his temple, wincing, because he hated when he had to pull out a piece of his past.
“This is entertaining. I guess you’re the keeper of the steps or something,” West said as he rubbed his thumb across his jawline.
“Who you here for? You don’t just pull up in your fancy car ’round this bitch. Niggas need permission, you feel me?” the man said, pulling up his shirt to expose the handgun on his waist.
Without thinking, West grabbed the man up by his neck, squeezing so hard the goon couldn’t breathe. “You on the block I own, nigga. You never know who you addressing, so you speak with respect always.” West removed the gun from the man’s waistline and delivered a vicious blow across his face before tossing the man to the ground. He discharged the gun, blowing a hole through the man’s foot before removing the clip from the gun and tossing it aside. He was calm. He wasn’t flexing. He didn’t tolerate disrespect. The bullet to the foot was a fair warning. “Next time, I’ma blow your fucking head off.”
The other men fled at the sound of the shot and the front door was pushed open.
“Man, get yo’ ass off my mama lawn bleeding and shit!” Sire said as he emerged from the house. “Aye, Zo! Get his ass to Doc so he can patch him up. You teaching expensive lessons today, ain’t you?”
Sire slapped hands with West.
“Nigga think cuz you wear a suit you won’t put in work. Fuck is wrong with these new mu’fuckas around here, man?” West asked.
“You don’t come around. You mainstream now. Corporate thugging. These lil’ niggas don’t know you ’round here, bro,” Sire said.
West adjusted his lapel and followed Sire into the house. “Where’s Ma Dukes?” West asked.
“She’s in her room. It’s bad. She won’t even go down to the funeral home to make the arrangements,” Sire said.
West paused at the bedroom door. Sire delivered a knock and West waited for permission to enter.
“Ma, West is here,” Sire announced.
“Come in,” a soft voice called through the wooden door.
West entered the room and the smell of incense permeated the air.
West’s heart ached when he laid eyes on Ms. Sheryl. He had spent so much time at her house as a kid. She had mothered him, fed him, wiped his tears when he was afraid. She was the strongest woman he had ever met but looking at her now broke his heart. She was a shell of her normal self.
West hugged her, wrapping her in a strong embrace.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” he said, kissing the top of her head. Wasan had always been her pride and joy. A mother should never have favorites, but the entire neighborhood knew Wasan was her baby. Losing him had extinguished a light.
“We ain’t seen you around here in a while,” she said.
“I’m gonna change that. I’ve been real busy at work,” West stated.
“I know. You work hard. You’ve done good for yourself. You made it out of here. You don’t apologize for that. If Wasan had made it out I wouldn’t have to bury him,” she whispered. She squeezed his shoulders in support. “Let me fix you something to eat. You hungry?”
He knew it was a way to pull her out of her bedroom so despite the meal he had just eaten before arriving, he agreed.
Everything about the house was nostalgic, including the white gas stove that she had to ignite with a lighter.
He took a seat at the kitchen table with Sire and set the bag down on the floor beside his chair.
“I want to give you something, Ma,” he said. He reached down and unzipped the bag. He knew he had to come with cash. Ms. Sheryl didn’t believe in banks.
“Oh baby, bless your heart,” she said, pausing to sit at the table. West could see she was overwhelmed.
“It’s five hundred thousand dollars. It’s enough to cover funeral expenses and enough to get you out of h
ere,” he said. “Buy you a house, live anywhere you want. If that’s not enough, let me know.”
Sheryl reached out for West’s hand and gave it a squeeze as tears came to her eyes. “You’ve always been a good boy,” she said.
He placed a hand over hers and squeezed back. “I don’t mean to run, but you think you can put my plate up for me?” West asked.
Ms. Sheryl nodded. “Yeah.” She swiped her runaway tears. “You go. I know you’re busy. Thank you for thinking of us, baby. I’ll see you at the memorial.”
“I may not be able to make it,” West said.
Ms. Sheryl sat back in her chair, stunned. “Oh. Okay.” West could hear the disappointment in her tone, but she nodded reassuringly. “You were always smart enough to keep your hands clean. Good for you, West.” She stood and they hugged once more.
“Aye, Ma, go get dressed. We need to go see Was,” Sire said.
Sheryl left the room and Sire stood to his feet.
“You just walk in here and put your money on the floor like we need charity? I’m taking care of this whole block. We ain’t short on paper. Nigga, my brother died putting down a move for you and you too good to come to the funeral?” Sire asked.
“You know it ain’t like that. Every move I make is being scrutinized right now. I just took over the company. The rig explosion has all eyes on me. What you think going to happen if the press catches me in a photo with you? I got to move smart. It’s not personal,” West said. “What about the diver? Did he say who hired him? I need a name, Sire. I put two people I love in the ground. I need to know who to see about that.”
“Nigga, my blood brother got his head blown off on behalf of you and you back to business already? Don’t come around here talking business, throwing around paper, talking about it ain’t personal. It don’t get more personal than that, businessman,” Sire said. He couldn’t believe how far life had separated them. West had helped Sire make his first million dollars. He had fronted him the money to cop bricks back in the day and Sire had flipped it effortlessly. They were silent partners, fifty-fifty. Sire even had a stake in the sports agency. But the more West submerged himself with the Sinclair family, the more he seemed to forget where they started. “Better get out of here before somebody see you with one of us.”
