A Commitment to Love, Book 3 (15 page)

I held my hand up to my nose to hide from the stench.

The man closed the umbrella. “I find it easier to breathe from my mouth when I’m in this area.”

“It only smells this bad here?”

“Yes. Where we all live, it’s rather nice.”

“The east wing?”

“That’s correct.”

“The guards stay there with us?”

“Yes.”

Footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder.

Benny barreled in with two duffle bags over both arms. “What do you think?”

“So far, London is rain and old things.”

“Some would agree.” He signaled for me to follow. “Walk behind me. Don’t take a step off the path I travel on.”

“Excuse me?”

“There might be a hole or something.” He headed up the stairs. With each step, creaking boomed.

I stayed right where I was.

Benny paused and looked down at me. “Are you coming?”

“Those stairs aren’t safe.”

“Come on, before I carry you up.”

“This place is a housing violation.”

“This place is worth over 65 million pounds. I’m sure the owner will manage.”

“How can it be worth so much?”

“The address is one of the most expensive places to live in the world, ranking right next to places like Rodeo Drive, Fifth Avenue, and Wall Street. Even places like Hong Kong’s Pollack’s Path or Geneva’s Rue Bellot.”

“Besides the American cities, I’ve never heard of the others.”

“Regardless, you should be impressed. Come on.”

I stepped over a small, dead carcass. It was either a bird or something else. There was no fur, just bones. “I am not impressed.”

“You’ll like the east wing.”

I doubt it.

It took us twenty minutes to get to it. We passed more grotesque neglect—a big bathroom with brown gunk in the tub, toilet, and bidet, a tree in the middle of a study and giant pile of wet books, and bedroom after bedroom of spider webs and ghostly presence.

“Can you no longer afford a hotel?” I asked.

“This is one of many places where Chase couldn’t find us.”

“I believe you. I doubt he would guess that we were hiding in an abandoned mansion on Billionaire’s Row.”

And then suddenly, decay transformed into posh living. Boarded windows shifted to shiny glass openings.

“Here’s the east wing.”

“Figures.”

“The windows are bulletproof,” Benny said.

“Thanks, that was a major concern for me, bulletproof windows.”

“Are you going to be a smart ass the whole trip?”

“By trip do you mean the threatening kidnapping venture that you’ve dragged me on, after bullying the man that I love?”

“Yes, I like to say trip to keep it short.”

“Trip does roll off the tongue easier.”

Everything was different on the east wing. Dented floors with holes and mud changed to rich, black carpet that led to double mahogany doors. A spicy aroma rushed by as Benny pushed through the doors. Open space greeted my eyes—high ceilings and milky white walls that had to be freshly painted.

Before I could walk any farther, I paused and stared at the floor. It was carefully fitted pieces of thin wood that formed into images of little flowers. The craftsperson had used a variety of colors and grains, from maple to walnut, ash to mahogany.

Benny pointed to where I gazed. “Those are art mosaic panels.”

“That’s probably the best thing I’ve seen in the entire place.”

“Keep looking.”

I scanned the rest of the wing. Surprisingly, a modern vibe flowed through the space. A kitchen opened up where a tiny woman stirred something luscious in the pot. Steam rose. The red liquid bubbled, and that same spicy aroma filled the air. Bookshelves and a space with couches and chairs sat on my right. On my left, a closed door.

“That’s my bedroom.” Benny pointed. “Yours is the fourth one at the end of the hallway. And those two are—”

Both doors opened. A streak of blonde hair surged out and attacked me.

Vivian.

I almost fell back. “Hey!”

“How the hell did you get here?” She hugged me so tight I thought I’d be unable to use my lungs.

Troy’s voice boomed from behind her. “Hey Jazz.”

“Ehen Triy,” I mumbled.

“Let her go, Viv,” Troy laughed. “She can’t talk.”

Vivian did, but not before planting a kiss on my cheek.

All right. Somebody really missed me.

Troy turned to Benny. “How did Jazz end up on Billionaire’s Row?”

“I thought this would be a good trip for all of us,” Benny replied.

Troy rolled his eyes. “So you threatened her, like you did us?”

“What threats?” I asked.

Troy leaned against the wall, his huge frame taking up most of the space.

We both had the same hazel eyes and pointed nose, but that was where our resemblance ended. When we were kids I’d joked that he not only took up the whole womb with his huge frame, but he’d sucked up the entire gorgeous gene. When he smiled his cheeks lifted with perfection, full lips bloomed, and every woman within a ten foot radius drooled.

Troy flashed flawless teeth and crossed tattooed arms over his chest. “Well, more like he drugged us, and we woke up here, and then when we tried to leave—”

Benny held up his hands. “Let’s give Jasmine some space so she can get used to her new surroundings. Later, we can play the game you all so love, Blame It on Benny.”

Troy got up from the wall. “When can we leave?”

“In a week.” Benny headed back to the door he’d pointed out as his room. “Just give me a week, and I’ll give you three all a plane ticket to wherever you want to go.”

“You said that last week,” Vivian countered.

“Now, Jasmine is here. The countdown starts over.” Benny shrugged.

“You can’t do that,” Vivian said.

Benny raised his eyebrows. “I can’t?”

Troy and I didn’t respond, while Vivian continued to go back and forth with him.

It almost reminded me of old times. She’d always had the balls to yell back at him. Granted, he’d only been her dad, while Troy and I had just been grateful to be in their lives. Now things were different. We sort of had the right to argue with him, too. However, we understood the monster inside of him. Vivian had only learned about it months ago. Perhaps, she’d forgotten, or maybe hadn’t truly come to grips with it all, because she wagged her hands around and yelled out several insults, before he escaped into his room and slammed the door.

She turned to me. “He can’t do this to us. He can’t just make us stay here. You know that, right?”

Tired of the long journey and still down about Chase, I blurted, “Then why are you here? If he can’t do that, then leave.”

She parted her lips, but no words came out.

Troy opened his door and waved for me to come in. “Jazz, let me speak to you for a minute.”

“I’m coming,” Vivian offered.

“No.” Troy shook his head. “This will be quick.”

Viv’s angry expression faltered. “What the fuck? We’re all in this together.”

“Just give us a minute, Viv.”

“Why?” she asked.

I yawned. “How about when you both figure it out, you all come to my room.”

“Really, Jazz?” Troy grabbed my arm and escorted me into his bedroom. “I know you’re pissed over Rich Boy, but don’t take it out on us.”

I reluctantly walked in, not caring what Troy had to say. Whatever plan he had, I wouldn’t try it until I was sure Chase was safe. Once some time had passed, and Benny had taken the target off of him, then I’d be ready to do whatever it took to get rid of Benny.

Can I even hurt that man? God, is there another way?

“What about Chase?” Shock passed over Vivian’s face. “What the hell is going on?”

“The less you know the better.” Troy shut the door behind him. “Come in my room, Jazz.”

I checked out his room. The walls were white, the ceiling black and full of silver stars done in various constellations. I couldn’t guess them all like Troy could, but I spotted Orion, the hunter. The long rectangle of four bright stars represented his shoulders and knees. A diagonal line of stars belted him in the middle. Three stars hung from his belt and served as the sword. A triangle of stars formed his head while his right arm raised a club and the other pointed a shield toward Taurus the Bull. Although Troy claimed it wasn’t a shield, but lion’s skin.

“Who painted the ceiling?” I faced Troy. “Benny?”

“Naw, Viv. It gives her an excuse to be in my room.” He tried to display annoyance, but the lie radiated from his eyes. He loved her attention. “We need to talk about her.”

I walked over to his huge king-sized bed, covered in a blanket of green and yellow triangles. “What’s up with the décor?”

“Who cares, Jazz? This isn’t our home. Why are you here, anyway?”

I sat down on the bed. “Benny killed Lucy.”

He flinched, but it wasn’t in surprise. Troy could lie with a straight face, but when guilt flowed inside of him, it radiate from his face—his eyes blinked several times like something was in them.

“That’s not an answer,” he said.

“Did you know Lucy was dead?”

“Chase told me.”

My body tensed at the name. Pain bloomed in my heart and I just wanted that damn response to stop. “When did you talk to him?”

“Yesterday morning.”

I bit my lip. “How … how did he sound?”

“Like a drunk lunatic.”

I blew out a long breath. “Was he—”

“Get off of Rich Boy for a minute. I need you to focus. Why did you leave?”

“Benny threatened to kill more of the people around us, if Chase and I continued to be together.”

He snorted. “So you sacrificed yourself for the greater good?”

Ignoring him, I laid back in the bed.

Troy plopped down next to me. The bed shook under his big body. “Benny will probably still kill him.”

I didn’t even want to think of that. “Benny promised he wouldn’t.”

“That doesn’t mean shit.”

“He promised.”

“I’ve lived with murderers in jail. One thing I know for sure, none of them can be trusted. The ones that make death their living, their income, those guys have their own belief system, and when things get shady, they bend those beliefs.”

“You’re always so optimistic.” I opened my eyes and rose from the bed, just ready to hide in my room until a week had gone by.

Grabbing my arm, Troy lowered his voice. “We’re going to have to take care of this.”

I didn’t ask what he was saying. Troy probably had a clear plan. The fact that he didn’t reveal it in his strained whisper, confirmed what I already figured about Benny’s vacation home. My sick father had probably embedded microphones and video equipment in all the ceilings. I’d been around Chase enough to understand how rich men loved to invade others’ privacy.

“Regardless,” I frowned, “I just need some time.”

He lowered his voice even more and his hands shivered against my arm. “We don’t have it.”

“Why not?”

“Remember that language we made up when we were kids?”

“What?”

“You know? Remember that big tree out by the dumpsters that you would point at and say that fairies lived in the trunk and that you could speak to them? And then you made up this whole alphabet and a bunch of phrases.”

“The Igboo language. We’re stuck in a rotting mansion, and you’re asking me about a made-up fairy language.”

“Do you remember any of it?”

“No, I was eight.” I eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me this language was a part of your big plan. Are you smoking weed?”

He frowned. “Yes, but that’s not the point.”

“It definitely is the point. Why the hell would I even remember that? How do you remember that?”

“Sometimes in juvie or even … you know? Sometimes I had nothing but time to think about shit. I remember the language.”

“Good for you. Be sure to put it on your résumé.”

“Do you remember the term for sister?”

“We were kids, Troy. Why the hell would I remember how to speak that made-up craziness?”

“Fine. You’re in a bad mood. I’ll leave you alone.” He let go of my arm and nodded toward the lamps and ceilings. “Yeah. Well, we need a way to talk to each other, without so many eyes and ears.”

“Speaking of eyes and ears.” I forced myself to deal with the one thing I just had no energy to work on. “Those late-nights visits by our sister should stop.”

He turned away. “We should talk about that, too.”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“It’s all connected.”

“Your sex life is not my—”

“We’re not having sex, Jazz.”