White Lines III (18 page)

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Authors: Tracy Brown

BOOK: White Lines III
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Marisol descended the stairs and stood face-to-face with her daughter. Sunny looked so defeated, and yet so determined. She hugged her for a long time, stroking her back reassuringly. “You're not going through this alone. We're all with you.” She held Sunny tightly, then pulled back and held her face in her hands, smiling at her. “I'm proud of you, Sunny.” Marisol turned and walked slowly upstairs to bed.

Mercedes looked at her mother. “I'm proud of you, too, Mommy. Don't be too hard on yourself. You're gonna turn things around in no time.”

Sunny looked into her daughter's eyes. She saw Dorian in there. She saw herself, her young and impressionable self. There were so many things she wanted to say to Mercedes. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

Sunny sighed, heavily. “Thank you, sweetie.” She hugged Mercedes and smothered her with kisses. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow is my big day.”

Mercedes squeezed her mother tight, and inhaled her warm, powdery scent. She wanted to cling to her forever, and keep her all for herself. No more paparazzi, fashion shows, and photographers. Mercedes just wanted her Mama back. “I love you,” she said. Then she went upstairs to say a prayer that God would make it all better.

Sunny stood in the solitude of her mother's kitchen, and toyed with the baggie of cocaine she had retrieved from her bureau at home that afternoon. Tucked in the corner of her panty drawer, the coke was exactly where she'd left it prior to her trip to Mexico. She had stuck it in her pocket hours ago, and had been waiting with bated breath for the chance to be alone. It had been the longest day of her life waiting for this moment. Now that everyone had gone to bed, Sunny willed her hands to stop shaking as she walked out of the kitchen. Mercedes voice lingered in her head.
“I love you.”
She whispered, “I love you, too.” Then she locked herself in the first-floor bathroom with the bag of white powder. Just one more high before she gave it all up for good.

*   *   *

Born lay awake in his hospital bed that night, unable to sleep. So much was going on at once, and his sixth sense was telling him that something big was about to go down. Dorian had always taught him to be aware of subtle changes, the ripples caused by even the smallest pebbles hitting the water. So much was changing in his life at that moment. Instead of ripples in the water, the explosion that had injured him was more like a great wave sweeping through and leaving catastrophe in its wake. He wondered who was out there.

He wasn't the only one wondering.

*   *   *

Jada stuck the mysterious note inside her desk drawer and continued her nightly routine. She fixed dinner for Sheldon, and picked at the food on her own plate. She wasn't hungry. Consumed instead by thoughts of who was taunting her, she was distracted all night. She wondered who it was and what they wanted from her after all this time. Sheldon was especially quiet tonight. After the things they'd all discussed during Sunny's intervention, it seemed that he was lost in his thoughts. Jada always worried when he spent too much time thinking. So she lay awake for most of the night, unable to get her mind or her body to rest.

*   *   *

Zion heard the shower go off and the curtain pull back as Ava finished freshening up after a long day. She had arrived about a half hour ago, looking corporate in a navy blue dress and nude heels. It turned him on to see her that way. Ava was a beautiful, buttoned-up lawyer by day and a wildcat in his bed at night. To Zion, she reminded him of a naughty librarian, ready and eager to be spanked for her dirty deeds.

She came into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, her makeup washed off. He thought she was beautiful.

“Come here,” he said. “Drop the towel on the floor and come here.”

Ava hesitated. Beautiful though she was, Ava had insecurities, the same as most women. Zion watched her think about it. She was different from Olivia in that regard. Olivia was a performer. She liked to be watched, seen, heard, adored. Olivia would have dropped that towel and sauntered over to him as seductively as a cat. But Ava was different. He liked it. She was shy, despite the fact that she was sexy as hell. Once she got warmed up, she was insatiable. But he liked the thrill of working her up to that.

“Come here,” he demanded again.

Ava took a deep breath and let the towel go. Beads of water dotted her naked skin, as she walked over to the bed where Zion lay. He watched her every move, and felt his manhood rise within his Hanes. She crawled into bed on top of him. The feeling of her skin against his own made Zion moan with pleasure as he kissed her. Ava sank her nails into the taut skin of his back, and held on for dear life.

*   *   *

Gillian extinguished the blunt she'd been smoking and sat up in bed, folding her legs Indian-style beneath her. Her Upper West Side townhouse was dead silent except for her breathing. The noise on the streets outside was the only other sound that filled her space. She sat there thinking about her father.

Doug Nobles had been quite a man. He was old school. An original gangster. As his daughter, Gillian had been pampered, protected, and taught from an early age how to make power moves. His death had drawn a wedge between her and her brother Baron, who she still blamed for it. She wondered if Doug would be proud of the way that she had carried the family torch in his absence. She prayed that he would be.

Doug had been particularly fond of Frankie. In fact, he had practically raised him and taught him everything he knew. In the days after his death, Frankie had guided Gillian into the game, teaching her the ins and outs of the family business. The two of them had been a team at first, and Gillian knew that her father would have approved. But Frankie had let his feelings get in the way of the business. He couldn't accept the fact that Gillian was not willing to be with him anymore. Unlike his ex-wife, Camille, Gillian didn't cry, beg, or even appear to lose sleep over her breakup with Frankie. Instead, she had forged ahead and taken the helm of the business with ease. Because he couldn't let go of his romantic hopes for the two of them, Gillian had ceased to rely on his advice. She trusted her gut instead, and the years of wisdom she had gained at her father's knee. She was loved by her crew, respected by her business associates, and feared because of the power she held.

Still, she wished her father was alive. Doug would tell her if she was missing something, if she was making any wrong decisions. Without him or Frankie to depend on, Gillian had to trust only her instincts. And something felt out of sync. She was uneasy for some reason. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but whatever it was, it was keeping her up at night.

*   *   *

Sunny turned on the faucet, in order to drown out the sound of her snorting. She held one nostril and sucked up the crystalized powder with the other. In one long sniff, she took a big hit. She wiggled her nose around, sniffled a bit, and then bent forward and did it again. Another long and exaggerated snort. She wanted her last time to be a memorable one. Standing upright, she felt it all hit her at once. She shook her head vigorously, taken over by the intense sensation. The whole room looked like a kaleidoscope. Colors swirled in and out, and she heard music. It sounded at once far away and in stereo surround sound. Pulsing, throbbing, uptempo music. She hadn't been this high in a long time.

Sunny found her own reflection in the mirror, and gripped the pedestal sink for support. Staring at her reflection, she was amazed by what she saw. All sorts of colors shot out of her face. Blues and greens, red, orange, sparkles and shimmering lights. It was a neon light show taking place across her face, and techno music audible only to her blared loudly. She began to sweat profusely, and beads of sweat dripped from her forehead. Her heartbeat quickened to a rapid pace. She hadn't gotten high for a long time, and she had been fiending. This was some good shit. She took another hit. She wanted to go out with a bang. Afterward, she looked at her reflection in the mirror once again.

The music slowly faded, and the colors became less vibrant. While staring at herself, she was aware of a figure standing behind her. She leaned in closer to the mirror to get a better look at the reflection. The vision shocked her, and she squeezed her eyes closed in order to refocus. She suddenly felt dizzy. When she opened her eyes again, the vision was clearer, closer, standing directly behind her. It was Dorian.

Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at his reflection in the mirror. She was afraid that he'd disappear, so she dared not turn around, dared not even to blink. She held his gaze for long and tender moments, sweat still falling from her face. Standing behind her, he watched her through despondent eyes. “Baby, why? Why didn't you listen to me?”

His voice caused the tears to spill forth. She shook her head in dismay.

“You messed up this time,” he said, sadly. “You got more chances than you were supposed to get.”

Sunny felt herself laughing despite the tears falling from her eyes. A tingling sensation began in her toes and her fingertips. It felt funny. “What, baby?” she asked, smiling at him through the mirror. “What are you saying?” She dared not turn around, afraid that she might discover that she was hallucinating. If this was an illusion, it was one that she wanted to hold onto desperately.

Dorian wasn't smiling. “No more chances, Sunny. This is it.”

Sunny's smile faded.

“This is it.” Dorian's image began to fade, and Sunny frantically reached out toward the mirror. As he faded altogether, she spun around to see if he was there, and found that his image had disappeared.

She tried to cry out to him, but her voice got caught in her throat. Her chest tightened, and her breathing became labored. Her heart was galloping in her chest, and pain racked her so violently that she braced herself against the wall. She willed herself to calm down, but the room felt suddenly smaller. Her lungs weren't filling with air. Sunny lunged for the locked door, but fell thrashing to the floor with her hands clutching her heart. It felt as if someone was sitting on her chest, and she wanted desperately to call for help, but could not find her voice. Dorian's voice called to her as everything faded to black. “Sunny!” he cried. “Why didn't you listen to me?”

 

13

FALLING

Zion lay sprawled out across his king-size bed. Ava was spread out across his chest, her long hair hanging loosely around her. He ran his fingers through it as they lay there, spent from their lovemaking. It was three o'clock in the morning, and they had been going at it for hours. Ava was smiling. Zion had taken his time. Slowly and passionately he had made love to her. Now, his fingers working her scalp, she closed her eyes and smiled contently as they lay together.

“I think you're beautiful, Ava.” His voice was throaty and sexy.

Ava stroked his stomach. “Thank you. I think you are, too.” She wished she could pause this moment. The time she spent with Zion was the sweetest thing. Her thoughts drifted to Olivia. She felt a pang of guilt as she lay with her friend's man. She reminded herself that she and Olivia were only friendly because of Jada. Thinking of Olivia as Jada's friend somehow made it easier for Ava to admit that she was falling for Zion.

“What are we doing?” She asked the question before she gave herself a chance to rethink it.

Zion shifted slightly. “What do you mean?”

“What are we doing?” she asked again. “What is this? Is it just sex? Are we together? Are we friends with benefits?”

Zion sighed. “Nah, it's more than that. For me, it's more.”

Ava turned to face him. “For me, too. But what about Olivia?”

Zion shook his head. “It's over with us. I saw her earlier and she's just … we're not meant to be together anymore.”

Ava was glad to hear that, but still skeptical. “You still love her?”

Zion looked at her. He decided not to lie. “I'll probably always love Olivia. But she's not the same anymore. The spark went out. So it's time for me to move on.”

Ava thought about it. “Is that what this is? Moving on?”

Zion smiled, his sexy white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “This is more than that,” he said. “This is—”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Open up!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

They looked at each other in stunned silence.

“Police! Open up!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Zion's shut his eyes in dismay. This was it. Ava jumped up out of bed and grabbed his T-shirt laying nearby. She hurriedly put on her panties, as he jumped into his sweatpants.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Police!”

Adiva came running into the room, and Zion held out his arm to her. Just then, the sound of the battering ram crashing into the door rattled them.

“Come here!” Zion yelled. Adiva ran to his side. Zion and Ava exchanged one last glance filled with terror and unspoken fear before the room was flooded with DEA agents and the sounds of walkie-talkies blaring.

“Get on the ground! Get on the ground!”

The police got them all on the floor with their arms spread above their heads, including Adiva. Ava tried not to cry as she was handcuffed. Zion was in a similar position on the other side of the room. A female agent came and took Adiva out of the room altogether. They could hear the apartment being ransacked while one of the agents explained that they had a search warrant.

“Can we see it?” Ava asked. As an attorney, she wanted to ensure that this was a legal search.

One agent roughly snatched her upright by her handcuffs and shoved the papers in her face. “See?”

“Do you have any illegal substances, guns, or anything of the sort in here?” another agent asked Zion. “It's better for you to tell us now before we find it.”

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