Ace of Spades (3 page)

Chapter 4

Four
horsemen

         
Melody
watched Jackson shuffle toward the window, his ankles and wrists in shackles.
The orange jumpsuit made his complexion look sallow and sickly. His eyes never left
the floor as he took the seat across from her.

         
With his cuffed hands out of sight in his lap and his dark head bowed, Jackson
chewed his lower lip in silence.

         
“Hey, J,” Melody said quietly, her heart aching at the sight of him.

         
“What are you doing here, Mel?” He
asked,
his voice
low and emotionless.

         
“I came to see you,” she said with a weak smile, silently willing him to look
up. “How are things?”

         
“Just peachy,” he snapped. “What do you think, Mel? This isn’t exactly the
Grand Hotel.”

         
“Then why don’t you post bail?” Melody demanded, anger rising like a tidal wave
within her. “I know you have the money.”

         
Jackson frowned. “Why would I do that?”

         
“I don’t know, J. Why would you?
Maybe to get out of jail?
To spend time with your family?
To
come home?”

         
“I don’t have a home and I don’t have a family,” he
countered,
a sharp edge to his low voice. “My mother made that abundantly clear when she
found out I stabbed her husband seventeen times.”

         
Even though the words came straight from his mouth, Melody still couldn’t quite
believe them. She knew him better than anyone and he was
not
a
cold-blooded killer.

         
“I’ll always be your family, J,” Melody promised quietly.
“No
matter what.”

         
“Don’t, Mel,” Jackson looked up for the first time, tears shining in his bright
blue eyes. “Don’t waste your time on me. I’m broken.”

         
Tears stinging her eyes, Melody shook her head. “No you’re not.”

         
“Yes, I am.”

         
Mel closed her eyes and let the tears stream down her cheeks. “I don’t care.”

         
“You should care. You should forget you ever met me. Put as much space between
us as possible.”

         
Mel opened her eyes to study his face, to plead with him to stop this madness. “Why?
Why should I turn my back on my best friend when he needs me most?”

         
“I’m going to plead guilty,” Jackson said quietly, dropping his gaze back to
his hands in his lap.

         
“What? Why?” Melody shrieked, drawing a warning look from the guard. She
lowered her voice to a low hiss.
“For murder, J?
You
could get life in prison… or… or the death penalty.”

         
Jackson shook his head. “No. They offered me a plea bargain. If I plead guilty
to the charge of voluntary manslaughter, then I get three years and a
ten-thousand dollar fine. If I plead not guilty, the District Attorney intends
to have me tried as an adult for capital murder.”

         
“But you’re sixteen!” she cried, her voice shrill with horror.

The
guard pointed at her, then put his finger to his lips in a ‘quiet’ motion. “Last
warning,” he muttered.

“The
case is air tight. My stepfather was stabbed in the chest and abdomen seventeen
times. My fingerprints are on the blade. My clothes were soaked in his blood.
He’s a respected black minister and I’m a privileged white teen with daddy
issues.
A hate crime in the making.
The media will eat
it up.”

“Jackson,
I know you better than that,” Melody protested. “You don’t have a hateful bone
in your body. If you did it, and I’m still not convinced you did, there had to
be a whole lot more to the story.
Self defense or… something.
Whatever happened, just tell them the truth. The truth will set you free… or
something like that.”

Jackson
lifted his chin to meet her gaze, his brilliant eyes full of sadness.
“No, not this time.
The truth could destroy me.”

“J,
whatever it is, it can’t be worth throwing three years of your life away.
Please,” she begged, “just tell them the truth.”

         
He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m taking the plea bargain.”

         
“You can’t do this,” she pled.

         
Jackson studied his cuffed wrists in silence.

         
“Damn it, J, I love you,” Melody cried, her voice choked with pain and sorrow. “Can’t
you see that? If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”

         
“No,” he answered flatly. “It’s time for you to leave, Mel. Go home. Forget
about me. Grow up. Go to college. Marry a nice man who deserves your love.”

         
“Jackson, please!”

         
He nodded at the guard. “I’m ready.”

         
The guard rose and escorted him through the locked door to their right.

         
“Bye, Mel,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Remember what I said.”

         
Melody watched his retreating back disappear down the hallway beyond the glass
of the door.

         
“Goodbye, Jackson,” she whispered, pressing her palm to the glass. Tears
streamed down her cheeks as she rose from the beat up plastic chair and turned
her back on the only real friend she’d ever had.

A

         
Jackson made it back to his cell before he fell apart. Crumbling into the thin
mattress of his cot, he buried his head in his hands. It was over. He’d let her
go. Prison would be a cake walk compared to what he’d just done. He’d serve his
time, get out, and move on. The hurt and betrayal in Mel’s eyes, however, would
stay with him for as long as he lived. But he’d had no choice.

         
In an alternate reality, one where his life hadn’t been torn to
shit
in a single night, he would’ve told Mel that he loved
her too. He would’ve told her that he always had. She was the only person who
knew the real him and loved him anyway. But even she couldn’t know the truth
this time.

         
He’d been dying to share it all with her, to explain why the world couldn’t
know what happened. But he couldn’t do it. The pain was his alone to bear.
        True, she was his best friend. She
wouldn’t judge him. She would love him no matter what. But it would change the
way she looked at him. He couldn’t bear the thought of disgust filling those
big, aquamarine eyes.

         
Jackson had always liked the person Melody saw in him. She only saw the good,
even when it was an illusion. He didn’t want that to change. This was the only
way. It hurt like hell, but it was for the best.

         
If you love someone, let them go
, right? Supposedly they’d come back and
be yours forever. Yet, Jackson knew there was no coming back from this. He’d
pushed Mel away and she was as good as gone. She would never forgive him for
this. But what choice did he have?

         
The truth will set you free.
That’s what Mel had said. She couldn’t be
more wrong. The truth would ruin him. The truth was the real prison from which
he could not escape, no matter how hard he tried.

Chapter 5

Bachelor’s
dream

Eight years later

         
“Hey, Mel,” a nervous male voice squawked in Melody’s ear piece. “You might want
to get up here.”

         
Melody sighed, “What now Mike?” She’d only been in charge of the hotel for two
nights and everything was going to hell in a hand basket. Carlos was going to
kill her when he returned from his ‘leadership’ conference in the Bahamas.

         
“We’ve got a disturbance in the penthouse,” Mike reported. “Security is headed
up there, but it’s a delicate situation. There are some major VIP’s up there
tonight.”

         
“Oh yeah?
Who we got?”

         
“Well, Claire Evans and her entourage are there.” Okay, the A-list movie
starlet and highest grossing actress of the year
was
known for her diva moments. “And Drew Chambers is here with his wife and
children.” The pro-tennis star and classic family man was not likely to be the
cause of trouble. “And Black Jack rented the remaining suites.”

         
“Shit,” Melody muttered under her breath.

         
Mike’s
chuckle crackled in her hear
. “You can say that
again. It’s hit the fan and moved right on into tornado territory.”

         
Melody massaged her temples and reminded herself that the temporary supervisor
differential pay was worth the aggravation.
Not.
Some other idiot could
collect the extra dollar an hour to run this madhouse. Carlos couldn’t come back
soon enough.

         
“I’m on my way,” she said, making her way toward the private elevators for
penthouse access. “Fill me in.”

         
“Black Jack’s throwing a party.”

         
“Shit.”

         
Another dry laugh.
“You keep saying that.”

         
“That’s because I’m sinking deeper and deeper into it,” Melody answered dryly. “What’s
the damage?”

         
“Ms. Evans called her butler line to complain about the noise.
Said she would no longer stay with The Grand Hotel if we allow just
any riffraff on the penthouse level.”

         
“Okay, so I’ll bang on the door and tell Black Jack and his lemmings to keep it
down.”

         
“That I would pay to watch, boss,” Mike chuckled.

         
“I’m sure you would,” Melody said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Though she
had the cool, collected composure of a business professional, she still had a
little trouble keeping her red-headed temper in check.
Sometimes.
Okay, a lot of times.

         
“Good luck, Mel. Security should be up there by the time you arrive.”

         
“
Thanks,
Mike.”

         
The elevator pinged and the doors opened to the luxurious foyer of the Grand
Hotel Elite floor. Though the rest of the hotel was beautifully decorated and
well-appointed, no expense had been spared on the penthouse level. It was like
stepping into another world. The floors were made of precious stone, mined from
the rarest quarries in the world. They shone like black
diamonds
beneath her feet as her heels clicked across their gleaming surface. Original
paintings from the world’s most renowned artists decorated the walls. The
elaborate molding was made of priceless wood, hand carved with stunning detail.

         
The floor vibrated beneath her, pulsing to the rhythm of music blaring way too
loud for two o’clock in the morning. Her heels clicked faster as she picked up
speed, heading in the direction of the noise. A rock anthem shook the walls,
its screaming guitars and heavy percussion enough to wake the dead.

         
Over the ear-drum rattling music, a woman shouted at the top of her lungs,
words best not repeated in polite society. As Melody approached the cluster of
suites, she saw a half dozen of her security officers standing around outside
the door of one of them, exchanging grim looks with their hands in their pockets.

         
“You boys
gonna
stand out here all night, looking
pretty?” Melody asked, narrowing her eyes at them. “Or are you going to get in
there and stop them before they trash my penthouse?”

         
Jose, one of her favorite guards, grinned at her, knowing she was all bark and
very little bite. “We were just waiting on you, ‘boss.’ Now that you’re here,
this party can really start.”

         
Melody gave him a reluctant grin. “Alright then, let’s crash Black Jack’s
party.”

         
With a solid knock on the door, Melody waited for a response she knew wouldn’t
come. She pounded again and shouted through the gorgeous hardwood, “Mr.
Blackner
, it’s the hotel staff. Please open up.”

         
No response, just more floor-shaking music, shouting, crashing, and glass
shattering.

         
Pound, pound, pound.
“Mr.
Blackner
,
there have been complaints from the other guests and we need to ask you to
quiet things down.”

         
Nothing.

         
“Alright, let’s do this,” Melody said, removing the master keycard from the
jacket of her cropped blazer. Sliding the card in, then out, she pushed the
door open slowly.

         
“Mr.
Blackner
, we’re entering the premises. We need
to make sure everything is alright,” she called over the music as she stepped
into the room. Gyrating bodies packed the room, bumping and grinding to the
rhythm of the music. The stench of sweat, alcohol, marijuana, and vomit
permeated the air. Melody had to cover her nose to keep from retching.

         
Followed by her security team, Melody elbowed her way through the crush of
bodies, following the sound of screaming coming from the direction of the
Master bedroom. Melody sucked in a deep calming breath, then regretted it for
the smell. She tried to ignore the damage to the priceless décor of the suite.
Black Jack had sold enough albums and concert tickets to buy the whole damn
hotel if he wanted to. He’d pay for the damages, of that she had no doubt.

         
They arrived at the double doors of the master bedroom and Melody paused to
knock again. “Mr.
Blackner
?” No answer, just more
shouting.

         
“Boss, we better go in ahead of you, just to be safe,” Jose said, signaling to
his men. Melody stepped back as they entered the bedroom.

         
Melody didn’t know why what they found was so shocking to her. She knew Black
Jack’s reputation. Hell, the man had spent more of his grown life in rehab or
correctional facilities than clean and sober out on the streets. Yet she still
gaped in horror at the scene.

The
screamer was a blonde Porn-star Barbie doll, all tan limbs, plastic curves, and
big blonde hair. Barbie stood there, naked except for the tiniest excuse of a
g-string, her fake breasts barely bouncing as she hit her target.
Her target being Jack.
Her weapon being the fluffiest
leopard-print purse Melody had ever seen.

Jack
laid there in bed, muttering half-hearted protests as he shielded his head from
her assaults. It would’ve been comical, had the woman not been screaming
profanities at the top of her lungs and trying to purse-bludgeon a man to death
in the middle of
her
hotel.

         
“You son of a bitch, how could you fuck me and my sister at
the same time?”
Barbie shrieked, giving him another good swing. 
Smack.

         
A lazy grin spread across Black Jack’s face. “You let me.”

         
“That’s not the point,” Barbie railed. “I was too high to know better.”
Smack,
smack.

         
“So was I.”

         
“Alright,” Melody said, clearing her throat at her security detail. All of the
men were standing there, gaping at the slut’s flotation-device-like breasts.
“Enough of the Jerry Springer show, people.
Please escort
this woman from the premises. If she tries to return, call the police.”

         
With lecherous grins and some quip about ‘the perks of the job’ muttered under
someone’s breath, two of the guards escorted Barbie the rock star-slayer out of
the suite. The other four remained behind with Melody. Turning to the remaining
guards, she instructed two of them to go and break up the party. She shifted
her attention to the man on the bed, his lanky, lean-muscled form sprawled out
and barely covered beneath the white Egyptian cotton sheet.

         
Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped closer. He was such a beautiful
disaster. Elaborate tattoos covered most of his exposed skin and probably quite
a bit of what wasn’t exposed as well. Melody wasn’t usually a fan of tattoos,
but Jack’s accentuated the lines of his muscles and told his story with
pictures and words.

         
Failing to resist the urge, she reached out and swept the dark hair from his
brow. His eyes were blood-shot and glassy, his pupils dilated constricted into
tiny black dots. Melody didn’t know much about drugs, but clearly, he was high
as a kite. Her heart clenched with sadness and regret.

         
“You want us to leave you two alone?” One of the guards teased. Melody tossed a
sharp glance over her shoulder, shutting him up without words.

         
Black Jack’s glazed eyes shifted to her, bouncing as they struggled to focus. “Hello,
beautiful,” he mumbled, struggling to prop himself up on his elbow.

         
Melody studied him through narrowed eyes, watching for some sign of
recognition.

         
“You ever fucked a rock star before?” He slurred.

         
Flinching from the crude question, Melody drew back as though slapped. No, he
definitely didn’t remember her. Jackson would never speak to her that way. Then
again, the Jackson she
knew,
would never speak to any
woman that way.

         
“No,” she said softly. “But I have kissed a teenage boy-
bander
,
before he threw his life away with drugs and God knows what else.”

         
Jackson’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his boyish features. Melody watched
his emotions flicker across his face like a silent film. Realization hit. 
“Mel?”

         
“Yeah, it’s me, J,” Melody said with a sad smile. “What did you do to yourself?
You’re a mess.”

         
“What did you do to yourself?” He slurred back. “You got hot.”

         
Before Melody could formulate a witty retort, Jackson’s eyes lulled into the
back of his head and his breath gurgled in his throat. Mel held her breath
until he at last let loose a ragged one. Thank God he was still breathing. The
last thing she needed on her watch was a body count, especially if that body
belonged to her estranged best friend.

         
“What am I going to do with you?” Melody whispered, gently brushing an errant
lock of hair from Jackson’s forehead. Melody wasn’t sure whether she asked the
question of him or herself. Either way, it went unanswered.

A

         
Jackson floated on a sea of euphoria, lost in a land where everything gave him
pleasure. There was no pain. No nightmares. He was safe and loved.

Mel was
there, but not the sixteen-year old Mel he’d let go. This Mel had a more
angular face, womanly curves, a curtain of luscious auburn tresses, and a pouty
pink mouth he’d give anything to kiss. And she had the same big, aquamarine
eyes, watching him with love and concern.

         
Melody reached forward to sweep the hair from his eyes, as she’d always done
when they were younger. His heart filled with joy.
With
pleasure.

         
He wanted to bury his face in that gorgeous auburn hair. He wanted to bury his
tongue in that sweet mouth. He wanted bury himself so deep inside her tempting
body that he touched her soul.

         
The hair on his arms prickled, standing on end as every nerve in his body
responded to the pleasure her slight touch induced. He wanted to reach out and
return her touch with his own, but his limbs were heavy, his body weighted down
in the bed. He floated in and out of awareness, but the vision of Mel stayed
with him.
His Mel.

         
Drifting in and out of consciousness, bobbing along the surface like a balloon
on a string, Jackson soaked in the warmth and comfort of his escape.
Eventually, the feelings began to fade. Whether it was minutes or hours, he
wasn’t sure, but it was time to pay the piper. He’d stolen a few moments of
comfort and would now pay dearly for them.

         
The darkness of the past encroached on his momentary sanity, blanketing him in
misery. The pain of his reality clawed to the surface. There was no escape from
what he’d done, from who he really was.