The Madison Jennings Series Box Set

by Kiara Ashanti

  There was nothing Maddie could say—not to the coach nor to her mother, whom she would have to deal with later. The universe kept throwing her situations that she could not sit by and watch. A pattern had evolved: Something happened, she acted, it made her life more difficult, and it was not anything she could apologize for.

  “I could ask,” Coach Samson finally began, “why you thought it smart to get in the middle of a football scuffle—you a cheerleader, not a football team member, a cheerleader—but that would be too obvious. You have a definite problem with impulse control. You did not think before acting. You haven’t since the day you got into a fight with the very fella you just defended.” Coach Samson paused and gave Maddie a knowing look. “Interesting turn of situation there. Anything you want to fess up to?”

  “No.”

  “OK, if you say so.”

  For reasons she could not identify, the implication grated on Maddie’s nerves. She decided to not address it, saying instead, “Maybe I just like him.”

  Coach Samson guffawed. “Honeydew, you’ll have to do better than that.”

  “Not really. I don’t feel like explaining myself, and since my mother is probably going to end my life tonight anyway, there really is no need.” Maddie adjusted the ice pack from the side of her lip to her right eye. She turned her head and stared off into space, signaling she had nothing more to say.

  Coach Samson stared a moment longer, then stood. “Fair enough. I’ll let you know next week if you’re suspended from the cheer squad or not. The sports committee has never had a cheerleader get into a fight at a game. Not sure what the protocol will be on that.” She opened the office door and waved Maddie out. “Get with your team while I go find out what’s what in this game.”

  Maddie walked out of the office with the coach following. The moment Coach Samson left the locker room, half the cheer squad squealed. They mobbed Maddie, grabbing her arms as they hopped up and down excitedly. Even the Dorete drones joined in.

  “Oh my God, that was so badass!” said Lilac.

  “It was nuts,” said one of the boys on the team. “When you took off, I thought you were going to actually freakin’ tackle someone. You sure you’re on the right team?”

  Maddie could not help but laugh at the question. She followed with a sheepish grin.

  “Where’d you learn that?” asked a girl Maddie thought was named Mary. She was not sure. She always thought of her as the “short Dorete drone.”

  “I took a couple of karate classes when I was younger.”

  “Whatever, dude. That was way more than some karate moves.”

  “Yeah, she’s a regular Ronda Rousey.”

  As one, the group turned to Dorete, who stood apart from the team. Her eyes bored into Maddie.

  “I thought you hated Aden. Now you’re walking around school with him, getting into fights for him. Guess you’re pals now.”

  “Actually, yes, I think we are,” said Maddie plainly.

  Dorete nodded then turned toward the door as Coach Samson walked back in.

  “Alright, pack up. They’re keeping it a tie.”

  Everyone groaned but gathered their bags from the lockers and headed to the school bus. Maddie hung back, pretending to need to use the bathroom. When she was sure she was the only one left, she pulled out her black phone and called Rhee.

  “Did you win the lottery?” he asked immediately.

  “What? No. What are you talking about?”

  “Did. You. Win. The. Lottery? Because you’re going to need to pay me for all this damn Internet crap I have to clean up with your name and face. Jesus, can’t you go a week without being a social media star?”

  “Are you cyberstalking me?”

  The question threw Rhee off his verbal high horse. “What . . . no—”

  “But you’re tracking me? That sounds like stalking to me.”

  “Shut up, you ungrateful girl.”

  Maddie smiled and sighed in relief. She had one last thing to worry about, at least for now. “Thanks, George,” she said, using Rhee’s other nickname. “Really, I mean it. I think we’d be moving by now if not for you.”

  “You’re welcome, but you’re not making my life easier. Even I can only do but so much. Tamp it down.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me.”

  “That’s usually a good signal to listen to us. I gotta go. I’ve still got the country to, you know, protect.”

  Maddie hung up and hurried out to the bus. She almost knocked over Lilly when she exited the locker room. Seeing Maddie, she quickly stepped away from a well-muscled boy who looked Spanish. Lilly’s expression raised Maddie’s alarm bells.

  “Lilly, is there a problem?” Maddie ended the question with a sharp look at the teenage boy.

  “No problem at all,” said the boy with a lilting accent. “I was just telling songbird here that the only thing prettier than her voice is her face.”

  Maddie placed herself between Lilly and the speaker. “Go away. Now.”

  The teen regarded Maddie, nodded, then walked away from the two girls and over to a group of boys walking down the breezeway. When Maddie saw them wearing Edgewater jerseys, she rolled her eyes. “No wonder.” She turned to Lilly. “Are you OK?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. He just didn’t understand the word no. Anyway, I came to see if you were OK. I saw your mom out front pacing back and forth like a caged lion.”

  “Yeah, you should probably take a picture of me. You might not see me for a while. Or ever again. Hey! That song was awesome.”

  “Thanks. Me and the girls do it for fun. It’s no big deal.”

  “Modesty never got anyone a record deal, but if you say so. Come on, maybe you can save me from mommy dearest.”

  “I think Coach Samson did already. I saw her talking to your parents. She probably let them know you have to return on the school bus. I’m heading back with some band members. I just wanted to tell you, if you can there is going to be a party, even if we didn’t win. Tommy probably already texted you the 4-1-1 on it. Hopefully, I’ll see you there.”

  “I’m grounded for sure, but I’ll just sneak out. I’ve done it before.”

  Lilly laughed then hugged Maddie. Each hurried toward their chosen mode of transportation, Lilly a little faster when she had to walk past the boy who had harassed her. Maddie gave him a long look, then got on the bus. She noticed Dorete looking out the bus window in his direction as well.

  “Glad you could join us for the ride back, Miss Jennings,” said Coach Samson. Maddie stuck her tongue out at her and sat down.

  “Coach, hold up,” said Dorete. “My contact just fell out, and I need to run to the bathroom. Does anyone have any solution?”

  One of the girls dug into her duffle bag and handed Dorete a small bottle.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Without another word, she hurried off the bus. On the way out, she snatched a sports drink from the hands of a teammate.

  “What the hell, Dorry!”

  If Dorete heard or cared, she did not show it. She headed across the sidewalk, slowing down a moment to send a welcoming smile to the group of Edgewater players who were lingering. Maddie was shocked to see a quick wave of a hand toward the guy who had been talking to Lilly. The surprise turned to outrage when Dorete exited a couple of minutes later with her sweater off and her shirt adjusted to pump up her chest like a Colorado mountain.

  The boys noticed. How could they not, especially when Dorete walked over to them? Maddie could not believe her eyes. Dorete was flirting like a college pro—smiling, laughing, playfully tapping the boys on their arms. When the one who had eyes for Lilly ten minutes ago pulled her away from the group, she just smiled. Moments later, she took his phone and typed something on the screen. He looked back at his friends like a conquering hero before turning back to Dorete. He smiled then sipped the sports drink she had snatched before going into the bathroom. She handed him back his phone, whispered in his ear, then walked away. She let him k
eep the drink.

  No one said a word as she walked onto the bus. It was not something Maddie could let stand. “What the hell was that? He’s like the damn enemy! He was just harassing Lilly.”

  “I know. I saw him,” Dorete answered flatly. She sauntered past Maddie and handed a nearly empty contact-solution bottle back to the girl who had given it to her.

  “What the hell? Did you pour the whole thing into your goddamn eye?”

  Dorete sat down. She smiled smugly as the bus pulled away. “No, I poured it in there.” She waved at the Edgewater player who was chugging down the sports drink. “No one messes with anyone on my team. No one.”

  Maddie looked from Dorete to the boy, who was receding in her sight as the bus drove away. Her mouth was open, but no words were making their way out of it.

  Eyebrows arched imperiously, Dorete regarded Maddie and her open, speechless mouth. “See, Madison, you don’t have to hit someone to get back at them.”

  Lilith leaned into Maddie’s ear. “That’s gonna be one messy ride home for him.” She moved her voice to a whisper. “She’s a bitch, but she’s our bitch.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  The world before Rashad was a sea of pea green as he drove slowly down the seldom-used government road in Rio Grande National Forest. His vehicle bounced suddenly to the right, launching him off his seat and connecting his head, yet again, to the roof of the van. A sharp pain followed. The top buckle of his night-vision goggles dug into his skull each time he drove over a divot in the dirt road.

  The goggles were necessary to navigate the road without his vehicle lights on, but fine details like rocks, dents, and potholes were less visible. He had been on the road thirty minutes and felt as if he had been bounced around as many times as he had spent minutes navigating on the dirt track.

  He cursed the name and presence of Ihtisham. Despite killing the girl, and putting the timeline in jeopardy, Maleek had not killed the embarrassing blight to Allah. Instead, he had chastised Rashad for not taking care of the captives as instructed.

  Rashad snorted.

  He had trained in the camps. He had carried out attacks without failure. He was more than a solider for Islam. He was a wolf among soldiers but was being sent off like an errand boy.

  As he drove around another twisting turn, he saw a splash of white near the ground. His group had all hiked and camped in many of the parks, forests, and campgrounds in the areas near their base of operations. They had each chosen spots where a vehicle would be hidden from sight on all the seldom-used roads in the forest, designating them with small, clear paint markers only visible while wearing night-vision goggles.

  He pulled into the spot and tucked the van deep into it. He got out of the van and moved to the back, where the girl’s body was concealed. Slowly, he dragged the bag out, careful to not make any unnecessary sounds. The girl was in a large game backpack, similar to the ones hunters all over the state used for hiking out with elk meat on their backs. He took a moment to illuminate the van’s back space with a flashlight set in UV mode to show any blood traces.

  Maleek had partially dismembered the body so that it would fit in the pack. Even in the age of terror, it was unlikely anyone would have been suspicious of a large duffle bag, but a loaded-down hiking backpack was an even more common sight. It was the best type of concealment for transporting the body. Nonetheless, he would make sure no blood had seeped through the plastic.

  Seeing nothing outside, Rashad hefted the large burden onto his back. The dead weight of any body was heavy, but his pack also contained weights. The plan was simple: Get to a body of water and let gravity do the concealing. A mile from his location, an abandoned quarry that had filled with water beckoned. It was a perfect disposal site.

  Fifteen minutes later, Rashad crawled up to a large tree near the edge of the manmade hole in the ground that Mother Nature had reclaimed. His pack lay twenty feet behind him. He peered around the concealment of a tree and saw what had caused him to slither across the ground like a snake. A quarter of the way around the quarry shot beams of light from a car. Music and singing floated through the night air.

  He could see four individuals. Three of them were seated on the hood of the car. Fine details were not the strong suit of night vision, but seeing hair as long as the locks that Ihtisham obsessed over being tousled in the night air led Rashad to assume the people were female. The fourth was facing away from him, with no clues about his or her sex or age. All he could see was that this person was playing a guitar.

  Rashad grunted a silent curse. Their presence complicated things. He knew there were other routes to reach the waterhole, but he had counted on the late hour and day of the week as bulwarks against anyone being here but him.

  He could not wait for them to leave. The longer he stayed, the greater the chance someone might run into him. If it was a park official, he might be able to convince them he was lost, but the chance of further questions, or worse, a ride to a campsite, would arise. Plus, if these four had shown up, casually sitting there entertaining themselves, it could mean they were waiting on others to join them.

  Rashad continued to watch the group and saw one person reach into the car and pull out something they raised to their mouth. Knowing the American obsession with the evils of alcohol, he assumed it was beer. They are going to be here awhile.

  He weighed his options. He could just wait, or he could wander over and scare them off by acting like a deranged hiker. But that would lead someone back here with witnesses to find a strange man in the area. That choice was a no-go.

  He could dump the backpack and body some place in the woods. If he did, it was likely that wildlife or a hiker would find the gross package, but the backpack was a generic brand purchased over a year ago in another state with cash. Considering that last detail, he decided that dumping it in the woods would be his best alternative.

  Rashad’s mind was settled when another option occurred to him. It was bold and risky. When he thought about the schedule the cell needed to meet, he decided that the risk was worth it. He crawled back from the tree, then began making his way silently toward the group.

  Minutes later, Rashad was behind a bush looking at the back of the car. No one else had joined the group. He shook his head at the cluelessness of what he now could see were teenagers by themselves in the wild. The pampered youth of America thought themselves invincible, untouchable from harm, ensconced in the middle of their so-called heartland. They would soon come to realize no place was safe for them.

  These young infidels would discover that sooner than the rest of America.

  Rashad reached behind his back to grab the gun secured there. His other hand reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a matte-black cylinder. Silently, Rashad screwed the silencer into the barrel of his gun.

  When the guitar-strumming teen turned toward the water, Rashad moved from behind the bush and strode toward him like a dark angel of death. The four were too busy singing to hear the crunch of a stick or the scuffle of feet on hard packed dirt. Three feet from his target, Rashad took aim and squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet punched through the base of the teen’s neck and dropped him to the ground like a sack. Gasps of surprise choked out the singing voices as misty blood flew onto the girls. Their gasps were followed by two muffled sounds as Rashad rounded the front of the car and shot the two closest girls in the chest.

  “Scream, and I will kill you,” he said to the remaining teenage girl.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  As Maddie walked into the house, she handed over her phone. “What else?” she asked without preamble as she looked at her mother.

  Tina looked at her youngest child, rubbed her forehead, then walked into the kitchen without responding. The telltale pop of a bottle of wine being opened soon followed.

  “I bet it’s the red,” said Maddie, addressing her father.

  “If she ends up an alcoholic and you in foster care, it’s your fault.”

 
Maddie waved the comment away. “I’ve still got you.”

  Her father snorted. “I plan on downing at least two beers. Maybe a third,” he said. Then his countenance and tone turned serious. “I wouldn’t be so smug or nonchalant if I were you, Madelynne Sofia Collins.”

  The age-old parental trap of using all your names to convey how serious a situation is usually worked. This time, it grated on Maddie’s nerves. “Madelynne Collins is an eight-year-old child who died six years ago. I’m Madison Jennings now. We’re all Jennings now.”

  The remark left her father speechless. The lack of response allowed her to continue.

  “Madison Jennings did what her mom wanted her to do. She wanted me to make friends. I made friends. She wanted me to join a team. I joined a team. My friends and the team got into a fight, so I fought with my teammates.”

  “You’re on the cheer squad, not the football team,” said Tina. She stood behind Maddie with her wineglass filled to the brim.

  “Aden’s on the football—”

  “And you’re friends now?”

  “Yes,” Maddie answered through clenched teeth. “Unless there’s anything else, I’m going to my room, taking a long bath, and going to bed.”

  Maddie headed upstairs. Once she reached her room, she closed and locked the door. She pulled out the phone Tommy had given her and read the time and location for the party Lilly had mentioned. Then she gathered her clothes, stuffed them into a bag, and walked down the hall to hide them in the bathroom before returning to her room.

  Back on her bed lying down, Maddie wondered what Uncle Z would say to her right now. She turned to her side and stared at the collection of photos displayed on her desk and bookshelf. Each represented a precious memory. One of her favorites was a selfie of herself, Zavier, and Auntie Vonda on one of their first buddy trips. Vonda, a longtime friend of Uncle Z’s and Maddie’s parents, had come along because her mother was not quite ready to allow Zavier to cart her around by himself. Vonda was a chaperone, except she fell asleep on the fishing boat. The picture showed a smiling and goofy Maddie and Zavier pointing at a slack-jawed Vonda. Zavier had captioned the photo “On high alert.”