White Lines III (35 page)

Cheo returned with the car keys and tossed them to Elliot. Born watched them closely, waiting for an opportunity to make a move.

“I specifically told you to bring Jada with you,” Elliot said. He picked up the duffel bag that Born had brought in and threw it to his nephew. It landed with a thud right in front of where Cheo stood. “Count every dollar,” he ordered. “I don't care how long it takes.”

Cheo took the heavy bag to the far corner of the room, and that's when Born saw him. Ethan was strapped to a chair, facing the wall. His back was facing Born, but Ethan knew that his father was there. Ethan's cries were muffled, but he was certain that he was yelling, “Dad!” Born sat up, but stayed on the floor under Elliot's deadly stare.

Cheo cast a sidelong glance at Ethan, as he stood nearby counting the money. His heart went out to the kid. Elliot had slapped him around for kicks while they awaited Born's arrival. Cheo had kept his mouth shut, but he was secretly seething. His uncle was truly a ruthless bastard.

Elliot glared at Born. “I really wanted to see Jada again. I got a good punch in when I found her at the hospital that night. But I had bigger plans for her. I was gonna fuck her while you watched. Then I was gonna put a bullet in her head for that shit she pulled with my cocaine back in the day.”

Born stared Elliot down, coaxing himself not to be swayed by his words. Jada was at home, safe. Now all he had to do was get Ethan out of here, and it would all be fine.

“So now, I have to deal with Jada another time.” Elliot pulled out a cigarette and lit it, keeping his eyes on Born the whole time. “She will get what's coming to her.”

Born frowned. “What happened to keeping your word? You said to bring the money and everything would be done.” Born had known all along that Elliot had no intention of going away. It was for that very reason that he had insisted that Jada stay behind. He shook his head at Elliot. “You're taking this shit too far. She owed you money. Okay, fine. You got your money. Now let me take my son home.”

Elliot's rage bubbled over then. He pulled out his gun, cocked it, and pointed it in Born's face. Ethan started crying, though his cries were muffled by the duct tape. Elliot's eyes flashed with anger. “Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?” he demanded. Elliot was sick of people acting like they couldn't remember how powerful he was. He put the gun to Born's head, and stared him down. He spoke to him through clenched teeth. “You don't tell me what to do. I'm the one in charge. Not you. I told you to bring Jada
here
!”

Born could see that this man was unstable. The frenzy he had worked himself into was completely unwarranted. His spit landed on Born as he spoke.

“Not only did you not listen to me, but now you want to sit here and tell me what to do?” Elliot shook his head. “Let me tell you what's gonna happen now. We're gonna call Jada and let her listen to you die!”

“All the money is here,” Cheo called out. He hadn't really finished counting it so quickly. But it was clear that if he didn't say something when he did that Elliot was going to escalate the situation very quickly.

Born kept staring Elliot down. He was outnumbered, but he couldn't mask his hatred for the man who stood before him.

Elliot held Born's gaze, and waited for him to acquiesce. He took Born's refusal to back down as a sign of immense disrespect. He smirked and shook his head. “What a fool you are. You come in here asking questions, making demands. You don't bring Jada to me like I told you to.” He sucked his teeth. “And now you want to stare me down like you got balls of iron. Let me humble you, Mr. Born.”

Without taking his eyes off of Born, Elliot walked over to where Ethan sat strapped to the chair. With the gun in Elliot's hand, Born had a clear idea of what was about to happen. He jumped to his feet, and rushed Elliot at full speed. Elliot pointed his gun at Born, with a sinister smile on his face. The sound of the gunshot blast reverberated throughout the warehouse.

Born stopped dead in his tracks. He was certain he had been shot, but couldn't feel any pain. Momentarily dazed and confused, he watched Elliot's face twist in agony. Elliot fell to the floor with a chest wound bleeding heavily beneath him. Behind him, Cheo reached for his gun, but wasn't fast enough. Another shot rang out, the bullet slamming into his shoulder with such intensity that it visibly tore away chunks of flesh as it made contact. Born scrambled to his feet and was shocked to see Jada barreling toward him with a smoking gun in her hand.

Ethan whimpered softly. Unable to see what had transpired, he was certain that his father was dead. Cheo whimpered in pain not far from his uncle lying on the concrete floor

Jada ran toward Elliot, and kicked his gun in Born's direction. Still bewildered, Born scooped up the gun, and trained it on Cheo, as Jada stood over Elliot laying on the ground. He was gurgling on his own blood, and still trying his best to talk shit. Jada stood over him wordlessly and watched him suffer for several moments. Then she shot him through the forehead and watched him die. Urine seeped from his lifeless body as she stepped slowly away.

Cheo writhed in pain on the floor just feet away. “My uncle is crazy,” he said, breathlessly. “I did not condone what he did to your son. This shit went too far.” The desperation and pain in his voice were evident, but Born and Jada were unmoved.

“You can take your son and lea—”

Born shot a slug through Cheo's throat in midsentence. The young man's eyes flew open in shock, and he clutched his neck futilely before falling in a bloody thud onto the floor.

Born rushed over and untied Ethan, while Jada carefully peeled away the duct tape from his eyes and mouth. Ethan smelled like urine, and he was visibly shaken. But he was alive. Born and Jada's tears of joy mixed with Ethan's as they embraced.

“You're safe now. It's okay.” Jada was trembling, even as she spoke the words of reassurance to young Ethan.

Born noticed her shaking. “I told you to stay home,” he said, his voice low and steady.

Jada had made up her mind to follow Born the moment he said that he was going to meet Elliot alone. Jada knew that she couldn't let him go alone to clean up her mess. If anything happened to Born or Ethan because of her, she would have died.

“I knew you might need some backup,” she said. She forced a smile.

Born shook his head, grateful beyond measure, and upset that she had put herself in danger at the same time. Truthfully, he was shaken, too. But he knew that they had to get out of there in case there was anyone else in that warehouse. He rifled through Elliot's pockets until he found his car keys. Once he had them, Born grabbed the heavy duffel bag, and together the three of them ran for their lives.

*   *   *

Over the next several days, Gillian maneuvered funds through various vendors at
Conga
, calling in debts and favors alike. One by one, she brought the guys home, starting with her brother.

“What did they ask you?” She got straight to the point in the privacy of her all black Range Rover tucked discreetly behind the tinted-out windows of the backseat. Baron sat up front, with Celia driving. The feuding ladies had ridden together in silence to bail out Baron and, courteously, Gillian had climbed into the backseat afterward to allow mother and son to have their reunion.

“Gillian,” Celia said, catching her eye in the rearview. “He just got in the car. Give him a minute to breathe. He just got out of jail. Now I appreciate you putting up some of the money. But I'm his mother, and your father did not leave me penniless. So I will give you back your money if you think it entitles you to grill him like a damn interrogator. I don't need your help to look after my son.”

Gillian smirked at her. Celia's words were so telling. What Gillian heard was that Celia suspected that her son was guilty, too.

“I was talking to Baron,” Gillian said. “Last I checked, he's a grown man.” She leaned forward slightly, peering at Baron's handsome profile. “Right?” she asked. “You want to tell me what happened in there, Baron?”

“Not right now,” he said. “We'll talk later on.”

Gillian sat back in her seat and watched her brother hide behind his mother's skirts. She sat back for the rest of the ride and said nothing. They watched the traffic and the pedestrians through their windows while Celia made idle chat about the weather and whether anyone was hungry. Gillian waited until they arrived at Celia's home, and she moved closer to her brother in the foyer.

“Baron, let's talk.”

He looked at her oddly. Gillian couldn't tell what he was thinking. He said nothing, but walked past her and toward the kitchen.

“I'm hungry.”

Celia moved after him. “Let me make you a sandwich.” She followed him into the kitchen, while Gillian stood pissed in the foyer.

She took a deep breath and followed them. Baron sat at the counter, sulking. Gillian wanted to slap the shit out of him.

“Baron, what's up?”

Celia's eyes flashed as her head snapped in Gillian's direction.

“What don't you understand? He's not going to talk to you about this today, Gillian!”

“With all due respect, Miss Celia, this is none of your business.”

“You're in
my
house.”

“Baron.” Gillian's voice was firm and commanding.

“You never even bothered to ask if he's alright, if he needs anything,” Celia continued. All you give a damn about is yourself. Fall back, young lady. Like I said, this is my house. Baron has just gotten home. He's hungry, he's tired, and this is not the time to talk business. Not today. Now, thank you for your help today. Thank you for accompanying us home, even though I offered to drop you off along the way.”

Gillian scowled at her. “I wanted to come here and speak to Baron in private.” She was trying so hard to remain respectful.

“And that's not gonna happen today.” Celia said it matter-of-factly, and smiled victoriously. She turned and walked to the refrigerator to prepare a sandwich for her son.

“Gillian,” Baron spoke at last, “I'll call you tomorrow.”

She looked at her brother with venom in her gaze. “Don't bother.”

She turned on her Brian Atwood heels, and sauntered out of Celia's house for the last time.

*   *   *

Frankie bounced Bria on his lap, trying to get her to stop squirming. She wasn't comfortable with him, and it showed. He was embarrassed by his daughter's unfamiliarity with him. It was no one's fault but his own.

Camille kept her distance, busying herself in the kitchen, watching in silence. Frankie had stopped by soon after his release from jail. She was glad to see him, and happy that someone else—probably Gillian—had stepped up to post his bail. Although she cared for Frankie, she was in love with Eli. She didn't want anything to jeopardize their relationship. Still, part of her was relieved to see that Frankie was okay, and that apparently the letter she had written to him while he was in jail had made him eager to reconnect with their daughter.

Camille's mother, Lily, wasn't as coy. At first she watched while her granddaughter squirmed in Frankie's arms. Then she sucked her teeth and walked into the living room. “Bria, be nice to Daddy,” she said softly. “Sit nice.”

Bria's lower lip quivered, teetering on the brink of tears, but she stopped squirming.

Frankie looked at his former mother-in-law gratefully. “She listens to you.”

“That's because she sees me every day.” Lily looked him dead in the eye as she said it. There was no mistake about the meaning behind her words.

Frankie turned his attention back to the baby, ignoring Lily at first. He baby talked and played with Bria, the whole time thinking about what Lily had said.

“You're right,” he admitted at last. “I'm ashamed that my own daughter doesn't know me. It's my fault, 'cuz I haven't been around. But I'm gonna change that now.”

Lily nodded. “I'm happy to hear that. Bria's getting bigger now. It's important that she knows her father.”

Frankie looked around for Camille and, as if on cue, she appeared. She handed Bria a sippy cup full of apple juice, and placed bottled waters on the table for Frankie and Lily.

“Frankie, what happens now with your court case?”

He shook his head. “It's hard to say. I have a hearing on Thursday. I'll have to wait and see what happens.”

Lily frowned. “Well, maybe it's time for you to leave those old friends of yours alone,” Lily said, speaking in code since five-year-old Shane was within earshot. He sat in the middle of the living room floor, coloring, oblivious to the conversation that the adults were having.

“You have a lot of legitimate businesses, Frankie. It's time to leave the rest of that mess alone.”

Frankie nodded, but said nothing. Camille shot her mother an icy look, beseeching her with her gaze to be quiet.

Lily didn't take the hint. “I know it's none of my business,” she acknowledged. “You're a grown man, and you can do what you want. But I've known you for so many years. And this family has been through a lot of things with you over the years. So you can take this as some mama wisdom. Motherly advice. If you dodge the bullet this time, you should take it as a sign from The Most High. Get out of any business that you can't run out in the open.” Lily shrugged. “That's my advice. You can take it, or leave it.” She got up and made her exit, rubbing Shane's head affectionately as she left the room.

Camille watched her go. Bria was wriggling to get free again. Mercifully, Frankie set her down on the floor, then watched as she ran to her mother and raised her arms for Camille to pick her up. Camille gathered her daughter onto her lap, and looked at Frankie. He looked so despondent.

“She'll get used to you, Frankie. The more you come around, the more relaxed she'll feel around you.”