A Commitment to Love, Book 3 (13 page)

“You’re a genius.”

“No, man. You don’t understand. I’ve been with Benny for the last week. He’s insane.”

“How is this news?”

“He’s even more insane. Viv and I left with him and figured we could watch him better and try to figure out something. Sherman has his eye on Lucy.”

“I hope not, because that would mean his eye is being buried at the end of the week.”

“What? Just wait a minute. Let me explain. We were with Benny the whole time besides four days ago, when he just jumped up out of nowhere and said he had to handle something. The motherfucker has been gone for four days, while Viv and I can’t leave.”

“You can’t leave?”

“He kidnapped us, man.”

I shot up in my seat. “Where are you?”

“If I could tell you, I would.”

“You don’t know?”

“I do, but the location doesn’t matter. If Benny thinks you’re on the way, and we’ll be moved somewhere else. We have to wait this out.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Naw, man. The fact that you’ve been unable to handle Benny or Jasmine, doesn’t give me much motivation to say shit to you. Let me see what happens in the next couple of days, and I might call you. We can come up with something.”

Rage boiled inside of me. “You say this, after letting Lucy die by that man’s hands?”

More silence hung on the line, and then after a minute, Troy spoke, “Lucy is dead?”

“You were in charge of her—”

“Lucy is dead?”

“Where are you?”

“Chase, I handed Lucy over to Sherman. He was the only man I knew on this earth that could protect her.”

“That wasn’t part of the plan. All three of you were supposed to be with her, until I dealt with Benny.”

“Shit changed. Vivian went off on her mission to discover the truth. She had me do a DNA test. This siblingship thing that checked our blood. Our DNA were compared to see if we had a common father—”

“Why do I care about any of this? Did you hear what I said? Lucy is dead. Jasmine is gone.”

“The result was negative.”

“Again, why do I care?”

“We’re not siblings.”

I rubbed my temple. “Where are you?”

“You had people investigate, and all they discovered was a birth certificate that my mom and Benny signed. That doesn’t mean shit. Someone’s got their information wrong about Benny being our father. The results say we’re not related to Vivian. Either Benny isn’t Jasmine and my dad, or he’s not Viv’s. You get me now?”

I gritted my teeth. “No, where are you?”

“Benny doesn’t know about the test or the results, but if he finds out, then he’s going to start asking questions. Right now, Jasmine, Viv, and I are safe. He thinks we’re all his kids. He sees family as important. For now, there’s safety.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“What happens if Jasmine isn’t his daughter? Why wouldn’t Benny kill you both, and me, too? You get me?”

“I got you.”

“Viv doesn’t get it. She’s too happy we may not be related.”

“May not? I thought the test was negative.”

Sophia tilted my way, giving up all pretense that she wasn’t trying to spy on my conversation.

Troy continued. “The doctor would’ve preferred getting samples from either both of our mothers or fathers. But yeah, he’s pretty damn sure we’re not related at all. Which means somebody has been lying to Benny. Viv’s mother is dead, so I hope it is her.”

“And your mom?” I checked Sophia again. She’d inched closer.

“Mom lies. I wouldn’t be shocked.”

“So you think
that person
is not to be trusted?”

“Who?”

“The one we were talking about?”

“My mom?”

“Yes.”

“Odds don’t look good in our favor.”

“Why not?”

Sophia tapped my leg hard and mouthed, “Who is that?”

I raised my hand to silence her.

“Why not?” I asked again.

Annoyance laced Troy’s voice. “I don’t have time to talk about my mother issues with you. We have to kill Benny.”

“How is that different from our plan earlier, when I asked you to protect Lucy?”

“That’s what I don’t like, Rich Boy. That shit right there. How the hell did Lucy get killed? Where’s Sherman? He’s texting me shit like he’s sorry, but never said why he was sorry. Now I know. He let Lucy die, but why? It makes me real uncomfortable. Sherman gave me his word. He takes that shit seriously, when it comes to his brothers. If he fucked me on this, then there’s only one person that could have gotten in his head.”

More static rushed through the line.

“Who?” I asked.

And then the call ended.

“Fuck.” I shut the phone off.

Sophia’s words came out harsh with no chaser. “Who was that?”

“Why?”

Her words sliced in the air and made my skin shiver. “I don’t like questions for my answers. Don’t do that again. Who was that?”

I’m starting to get tired of people treating me like I’m the one that doesn’t give out the orders.

“Who was it?” Sophia asked again.

Benny had somehow kidnapped Troy and Vivian. I don’t even understand what that meant. Kidnapped them how? Was he locking them up in a house or just keeping a close eye on them? Was he taking Jasmine to them? Would she be surrounded by their love and safety until I got there?

I’m going to kill you, Benny. I wasn’t born to be a murderer, but I’ll die one, just for you. I shot Wendy out of sorrow. I don’t count that. But for you … for you, I’ll take on the guilt of your death. I’ll dance in your blood.

“Who was on the phone?” Sophia snapped her fingers in front of me, a move that I did a lot. A move that I’d done with Jasmine several months ago, when she sat in my office in shock that I’d been asking her the most intrusive interview questions known to the job process. I’d thought I was in control that day, figured I could command Jasmine just because she trembled in her chair, in front of me.

In the end, she trapped me.

Caged my heart and wouldn’t let it go.

Had me bobbing around like a puppet with dangling legs.

How I miss my little puppet master. Damn you, tesoro.

“Chase, do you hear me?” Sophia asked again, and anger boiled inside of my chest.

Leave me alone. I’m thinking about her.

I swallowed some of the cognac I’d brought with me. “Don’t make me do this, Sophia. Let’s just pretend there wasn’t a phone call. I’m a bit on edge, and getting rather drunk. My manners left on the second glass. Don’t make me do this.”

“Do what?”

“Put you in your place.”

“Excuse me?” She raised her arched eyebrows.

“You don’t ask me questions. I ask you. I have several bills that I pay that prove that sad fact. I’m looking for Jasmine. You can help me. My phone calls are not something I’m going to discuss. So far, my childhood friend died while in the care of your family. I’m not sure who to trust outside of Jasmine.”

“Put me in my place?”

I finished the glass.

“I’m Jasmine’s mother. I’m just as nervous about her future.”

I didn’t buy it. I couldn’t point to the reason. Maybe, she lacked that thing that made mothers appear mournful. She’d lived a hard life. Most ghettos carved out hollow tunnels in people’s hearts. Perhaps, she just didn’t understand how to show a mother’s love, but it still could have lived inside of her, growing with each second that Jasmine remained with Benny.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Sorry isn’t important to me. You pay my bills. That’s fine. But you mentioned me on that phone call. Who was it?”

She’s even more determined to get her way than Jasmine.

“Not many people would understand the things I heard you say. Only a small list. It wasn’t Jasmine.” She twisted her lips in annoyance. “Must’ve been Troy. What did my sweet boy say about me?”

No wonder Jasmine said hell no to a big family Thanksgiving party this year.

I decided to change the subject. “Why are we going to Benny’s garden?”

“It’s where all of his notes and journals are. He writes everything down there. It’s not actually a garden. He just calls it that.”

“Why?”

“Because he grows things there.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

“I’m thinking it’s not flowers.”

“No, much worse.” She crossed her legs. “Did you get ownership of the building like I asked?”

“Yes. The whole project development is owned by me.”

“That was quick. It barely took us ten minutes to leave your house and get in the car.”

“Anything is possible with money. Sometimes it’s just a phone call.”

“Ain’t that the damn truth.” She snorted. “So we’ll be walking into your building, huh?”

“Pretty much. The manager will meet us there with the keys to his apartment.”

“It’s the penthouse. We all say that as a joke. Benny’s the only white man that would rent out a whole floor in the hood and then sit up in there like he’s living in luxury.”

“I didn’t know he lived there.”

“Just one of his many places. He’s got a bunch of safe spots. Apartments, condos, and homes all over the world. Something is in each of them. I’ve been to a few in the US. He’s got at least ten passports. Several ID cards. Those will be in the penthouse. If not the actual documents, then you’ll find a list with the names. That will help us get a hold of where he is going. We get the names he’s using with Jasmine, then we’ll have his movements through his credit cards.”

“Why would he keep stuff like that up there?”

“Because no one in South End messes with Benny. Anybody intending on robbing the penthouse, would have to be ready for war. Benny doesn’t play fair. Something is missing in his head. His penthouse is probably the safest place on earth. And who would think that a man with all of these resources would be hiding things deep in the hood of a small city?”

“That makes sense.”

“In fact, you’re the only person I know that would go up against him like this. He has ears everywhere. He may not know you bought the building now, but he’ll find out by this evening. Let’s just hope we’re on a plane somewhere and out of sight, when he figures it out.”

I laughed. “No. I’ve got a better idea.”

“What?”

I turned on my phone. “After we get what we need, I’ll hold a press conference. Chase Stone’s redevelopment of South End.”

“No, now you’re just poking the dragon.”

“He has Jasmine. Maybe the dragon needs to be stabbed.”

“You’re babysitting your emotions. Let them go.”

I searched for more cognac and realized I’d left the bottle at the condo. My words had become slurred, but I still needed more. “I’m not babysitting anything.”

“With Benny, you need to think smart. Getting mad and bold won’t do shit, but get you killed. Just follow me. Keep the buyout a secret. Let him find out on his own. Give us a head start.”

“Us?”

“This is my daughter. Where you go, I go. If you leave the country, then I’ll follow.”

“That wasn’t the plan.”

“I’m coming, whether you decide to put me in my place or not. Anywhere you go to find my daughter, I will.”

“Then I’m going to need more cognac.”

Grinning, she winked again. “Make that two bottles please.”

In no time, we entered South End.

Christ.

When I’d met Jasmine, she stayed with Vivian in a small town called Knightson, ten minutes outside of Oshane City. It was so small it only had two stop lights. Lots of hippies walked the streets, holding baskets of fresh fruit and radiating the scent of weed. The rest were middle class families who commuted to their jobs in the city.

Knightson provided an easy and relaxed living compared to the fast-paced life of Oshane City. No one bothered anyone, and if they did it was to help in some way.

One couldn’t get lost in a place like this. With one quick look, I was confident the driver would do an immediate U-turn.

Dark clouds hovered above. Cracks dotted the pavement. Ragged weeds grew between the gaps. Shattered glass covered the ground. Broken fences outlined homes that could only be compared to shacks—the wood appeared worn, windows barred, doors hung slanted on tattered hinges, and even ceilings sank at the edges.

Was it some illusion? There was no way people actually lived like this. Animals slept in better cages.

Where sharp things didn’t lay, trash did—crumbled cigarette packs and wrinkled foil with bones sticking out of them. Styrofoam containers rolled in the wind. Several yellow-stained diapers piled the beginning of an alley like the city designated the space for Pampers disposal. Where hope could’ve grown, drugs stifled the faith. Dirty, young kids hung on the corner. Some wore no shirts, even though a small chill hung in the morning air.