Looking For Trouble (17 page)

“I guess there's something to be said for being patient.”

“And fate.”

She smiled. “And wishing upon a star.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes?”

John held her tighter in his embrace, slowly moving his hand up and down the middle of her back. “I want to kiss you,” he said, his lips skimming the edge of hers as he spoke. “May I?”

She nodded.

John slowly covered her mouth with his. When their lips met, their bodies hugged even tighter. His arms enveloped her small waist, while hers rested easily on his broad shoulders. Their kiss was long and passionate, and it made him hungry to devour her on the spot. His erection rubbed harder against her inner thigh; this time, when she looked down, she smiled.

“See what you do to me?” John whispered into her ear.

“This feels like a dream, but I know it's not. This is real, right?”

John smiled, nudging her gently so she could feel the full effect of the large bulge resting in his pants.

“Oh, my,” Elizabeth purred. “This is definitely real.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, then let it out. John could feel her heart pounding against his chest. He knew she was either super excited, super nervous, or both. He remembered what she'd said about not having a boyfriend and he wondered how much experience she'd had with men. “I hope I'm not moving too fast.”

“Fast?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I've been waiting to kiss you all my life, John Small.”

They kissed again, this time allowing their mouths to search with more urgency as their tongues mingled and danced. Their hands found new territory to touch above the lightweight fabric of their clothes, causing them to release low moans.

But as good as she felt against his body and in his arms, John knew they needed to stop, because he was on the verge of ripping Elizabeth's clothes off, right there on the back steps of the club. He wanted to make love to her, but he also respected her. And, added to that, he respected his brotherhood with Maxx. He wanted to make sure his best friend was okay with him pursuing Elizabeth before things went any further. So as much as he wanted to check into a new hotel room and bring Elizabeth with him, he eased off, using his iron-tough willpower to tame himself.

They stood in peaceful silence, holding each other. Their bodies swayed back and forth amid the heated night air. “You made me forget all about Maxx's birthday cake,” Elizabeth said.

“This is much sweeter than Miss Cora's cake.”

“Yes, it is,” she whispered into his ear. “John?”

“Yes, baby?”

Elizabeth smiled widely. “What do we do now?”

He kissed her one last time and said, “Let's go inside and have some cake, shall we?”

Elizabeth grinned, looking down at John's pants bulge again. “Okay, but, um . . . let's wait a minute or two.”

Chapter 22

A
fter the entire club sang “Happy Birthday” to Maxx, he made a wish, blew out the candles, and then cut the gigantic sheet cake his mother had arranged for his celebration.

John and Elizabeth toasted with another bottle of Coca-Cola, while Maxx settled on water, thanks to Josie. “There's no need in you gettin' so tore down that you won't be able to remember a thing in the mornin',” she had told him.

“This is the best birthday I've ever had,” Maxx said with a smile.

Josie fed him cake and they frolicked openly, like love-crazed teenagers. Everyone was having a good time, but in a split second everything changed.

“Oh no!”
someone yelled out.
“She's got a gun!”

It was as if the scene was unfolding in slow motion, only it was real time in live action. The loud pop of a bullet sizzled from the gun and sent hot screams careening through the air. Everyone on the dance floor scattered like field mice running for cover.

John's first instinct was to protect Elizabeth. He quickly pulled her behind him, shielding her with his broad body as they ducked to the ground. When he raised his head, he saw a deranged-looking Thelma standing across the room, holding a silver-plated pistol pointed in the direction of the bar.

“You ain't shit, Maxx Sanders! To hell with you!” Thelma screamed. “I'ma kill you, but I'ma get your bitch first.” Her face was the definition of rage, and her body was a testament to what unrelenting revenge looked like.

She aimed her gun directly at Josie. Just as she pulled the trigger, letting the deadly bullet fly into the air, Maxx leapt on top of Josie, who was crouched down in fear.

“Agggghhhh!”
Maxx screamed out in pain as the bullet caught him from behind.

Two men standing by the door rushed Thelma, taking her down to the hard cement floor. “Somebody call the police!” one of the men yelled.

“And an ambulance!” John roared, standing to his feet as he and Elizabeth rushed over to Maxx.

Tears streamed from Elizabeth's eyes and her voice was frantic with fear. “Oh, God! Maxx! Maxx!” she screamed.

Josie lay beneath her longtime love, crying hysterically and screaming just as loudly as Elizabeth. That's when John stepped in and took control. He gently moved Elizabeth to the side and then helped Josie slide from under Maxx's limp body. He knelt over Maxx, who was taking short, labored breaths.

“Just hold on,” John told his best friend. “You're gonna be all right. An ambulance is on the way.” He looked on as Maxx grimaced in pain. “Damn, where're you hit?”

Maxx grunted and winced in agony. “In the ass.”

John blinked twice. “Huh?”

“That crazy bitch shot me in the ass!”

Chapter 23

M
adeline was so fed up she wanted to scream, but she knew that measure would only serve to thwart her plans before she could put them into action. So she painted on a fake smile as Slim tinkered with the engine under the hood of his truck. It was bad enough that the radio didn't work, but now the raggedy heap had stalled along the side of the road. It was pitch-black and they were in the middle of nowhere. If it wasn't for the fact that she didn't feel like walking the rest of the ten miles back to the hotel, she would have set out on foot a few minutes ago.

“Can you reach over and give it some juice?” Slim yelled to her from outside.

“What?” Madeline was incredulous.

“Turn the key. Can you turn the key in the ignition?”

Madeline huffed and puffed as she leaned over and turned the key in the ignition. A sputtering sound slowly rolled into a low hum and the engine was purring again.

“Old Betsy's back in business,” Slim said as he hopped back into the driver's seat. “Pardon me.” He reached over Madeline and opened the glove compartment, removing a tattered old rag, with which he began to wipe his hands.

Madeline looked on in disgust. She was so frustrated that she nearly cursed. At this point, she could feel her anger building again and she knew she needed to get to the hotel quickly, before she lost control with him, like she had with Roger. She silently laughed with satisfaction when the thought of her ex-boyfriend crossed her mind. It had been three full years and his body still hadn't been found.

“You ready?” Slim asked, breaking Madeline from her wicked thoughts.

“I was ready ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, well, here we go.”

Once they were on their way back down the road, Madeline's temper calmed a bit. She'd never been this long without her medication; but now, the more she thought about it, the better she felt.

For the first time in years, she recognized her old self again, and she liked the old Madeline. No longer did she have to abide by other people's rules or worry about what anyone thought of her actions. She was the one who decided how she was going to act. She was in control. And she could do whatever she damn well pleased.

Yes, she had complete control over the situation at hand, and soon she was going to show John Small that she was not to be trifled with. His money and power were a waste in his hands. Opening a bank in Nedine—of all places—was the most ridiculous, harebrained idea she'd ever heard. But once she convinced him to marry her—and she was able to get her hands on his fortune—she would do away with him, put a halt to the bank before it ever had a chance to open, and live the life of luxury she knew she'd always been meant to enjoy.

 

“Thank you, Slim,” Madeline said with a smile as he helped her out of his truck. “I thought chivalry was dead, but I'm glad to see that you're a true gentleman, and a handsome one at that.”

Slim's eyes grew wide. “You think I'm handsome?”

“Of course, I do,” Madeline cooed, wiping her sweaty brow. The night was thick with heat, and she knew it was about to get hotter. “In my opinion, you're much better-looking than John.”

Slim pushed his thick eyeglasses up the small bridge of his wide nose and looked at Madeline sideways. “You do?”

“Of course, I do. John is okay, but, honestly, he can't hold a candle to you.”

Slim gave her a funny look. “I think you about the only person who has that opinion.”

“Then I guess you're in luck, because right now I'm the only one who counts.” She could tell that Slim was nervous and excited at the same time. She wanted to laugh, but she knew she couldn't blow her cover just yet.

“Come on, I'll walk you to your room,” Slim told her with a smile.

When they reached the door, Slim stood at a safe distance as Madeline inserted her key into the tiny hole in the knob.

“Now that I got you here safe, I'ma be on my way.” Slim gave Madeline a polite nod and turned to leave.

“Don't go just yet. I was hoping you'd walk me inside.”

“Uh, I don't think that's a good idea.”

“C'mon, Slim. We're practically friends. Plus, I'll make it worth your while.”

“Now I really don't think that's a good idea.”

“Of course, it is.”

“I told John I'd drop you off and head on back.” Slim looked around as if someone was watching him, and Madeline could read in his eyes that he didn't feel comfortable standing in her hotel room's door.

She knew she had to do something before Slim walked out of her clutches and ruined her plan. She quickly feigned dizziness and leaned against the door as she pushed it open. She wiped heavy perspiration from her forehead and breathed in and out, as though taking in air was a laborious task. “I think this Southern heat has gotten the best of me. If you could just help me inside, over to the bed, I'd really appreciate it.” She reached out and wrapped her slender arm around Slim's narrow shoulder, giving him no other choice but to help her.

“All right, just hold on to me, real steady-like,” Slim said as he helped Madeline into the room.

Once they entered, Madeline quickly closed the door behind them and turned the dead bolt. When Slim heard the heavy lock click into place, he stood in front of her, looking flummoxed. “Hey, what're you doin'?”

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Madeline smiled widely. She could see that a deep part of Slim knew he'd just made a huge mistake.

Chapter 24

I
saiah and Henrietta had just finished watching the Saturday-night movie and were now settling into bed.

“I wonder how Maxx's party is going?” Henrietta said as she turned out the light on her nightstand.

Isaiah lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “I'm sure them youngin's is partyin' and carryin' on like young folks do.”

“I guess you're right, dear.” Henrietta nodded, letting out a deep sigh.

“What's wrong, Henny?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I'm still a little worried about John. I know what you said about that girl, but I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that I can't explain. I know that she's the cause of it. Every mother knows when her child is in danger. I have a very uneasy feeling that something bad is about to happen.”

Isaiah tilted his head, looking at Henrietta through the small beam of moonlight that shone brightly through their bedroom window. “Henny, you worry too much. I told you that John knows what he's doin'. We raised a smart young man. He can handle himself.”

“I don't doubt that, Isaiah. I'm talking about Madeline.”

“Oh, shoot. She ain't gon' be around much longer. I already told you that.”

“I pray you're right.”

Isaiah turned on his side, faced his wife, and smiled. “Have I ever once led you astray since you've known me?”

“No, not even when we used to play in the school yard when we were kids.” She smiled and touched the side of her husband's face.

“Henny, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family, and I'll never sit idly by if I think any of my blood is in danger. So hear me when I say that I know everything's gonna be all right.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“ 'Cause I have faith in our son. Plus, Mama told me it would be.”

Henrietta looked at Isaiah, suddenly filled with a mixture of curiosity and high anxiety. She loved her mother-in-law dearly, and she doted on her more than Isaiah did. Over the years, she and Allene had become very close. When Henrietta's own mother passed away from cancer, nearly thirty years ago, it was Allene who had stepped in and helped with everything from babysitting duties to giving practical, womanly advice. Allene loved Henrietta, and Henrietta loved her right back. But she wasn't blind about her mother-in-law or who the old woman was. In the nearly forty years that she'd been married to Isaiah, it had become impossible for Henrietta to ignore that Allene possessed a special gift—a gift that, at times, frightened her.

Henrietta's mind went back to that fateful night so many years ago when the KKK—Knight Riders, as they were called back then—had burned down the tiny house that she and Isaiah had once shared. She remembered, with an eerie chill, how Allene had predicted the horrific event.

 

“You and Isaiah need to be careful,” Allene said those many years ago. “I been smellin' smoke all day.”

“Smoke? Where's it coming from, Mama Allene?”

“A fire.”

Henrietta chuckled at her mother-in-law's dry wit. “I figured that much, Mama Allene. But where's the fire coming from?”

“I don't know, chile. But I been smellin' smoke all day long. A fire's on its way, and it's gonna be real bad. You and Isaiah be careful, you hear?”

Later that night, as Henrietta and Isaiah stood in front of the small shack they called home, watching it burn to the ground, Henrietta thought about her mother-in-law's words.

As time went on, there were other instances when Allene had warned them of things that would eventually come to pass, both good and bad. It was her “intuition” that had led the entire family to relocate to Nedine.

“I got a good feelin' 'bout this town, son,” Allene had told Isaiah. “Plus, you got some land nearby, so it won't be hard to rebuild. I think Nedine is where you gonna really make it big. Mark my word.”

 

Henrietta marveled at Allene's amazing gift to foretell the future; but unlike her husband, she had never been completely comfortable with it. And now, knowing that Allene had talked to Isaiah about John's safety, she was certain that some sort of trouble was waiting in the wind.

“What did your mother say, and when did she tell you?” Henrietta asked.

Isaiah stared into his wife's worried eyes. “I stopped by to check on her on my way home yesterday afternoon. We talked for a little while and she said she was glad that John was comin' to town 'cause she needed to talk to him. Said there was gonna be some kind of trouble in his path—”

“See, I knew it!” Henrietta cut in. “I told you that Madeline was nothing but trouble. I got a bad vibe from that girl the minute I laid eyes on her.”

“Me too. But like I said, she ain't even a issue, Henny. Mama said trouble was comin', but she also said he's gon' be all right. John's got good sense, and he's probably already thinking about how he can get rid of that gal.”

“I hope so. Tell me more about what Mama Allene said?”

“Well, you know how Mama is. She don't say a whole lot when she's prophesyin', but you can kinda figure out what she means. She told me she's got to help protect John for the future of this family . . . to secure things for the next generation to come. She's got to be talkin' 'bout the legacy he's fixin' to build with the bank, and that ain't got nothin' to do wit' that gal he's 'bout to be through wit'. Our boy's gon' create a dynasty,” Isaiah said, a mixture of pride and sadness hovering in his voice.

Isaiah let out a deep breath as he thought about the cancer that was slowly moving through his body, and the fact that he wouldn't live long enough to see his son fulfill most of his dreams. He had yet to share his condition with Henrietta or anyone else. He'd been praying that the specialist he was scheduled to see in Charleston next week would give him a glimmer of hope for fighting the deadly disease. But after visiting his mother yesterday and hugging her close to him while he swallowed the death sentence she quietly delivered, he knew there was no need to keep his appointment. What was done was done, and he'd have to tell his beloved wife soon. But even though his prognosis was fatal, he was glad he could report that his son was in no danger.

Isaiah reached over and took hold of Henrietta's hand, gently squeezing her soft fingers inside his callused ones. “Henny, Mama made sure to make special mention that John's gon' come through whatever storm is in front of him. We just need to stay prayed up.”

Henrietta nestled in close beside her husband's strong body, settling into the comfort of the only man whose bed she'd ever shared. “I have faith in you. And even though it scares me sometimes, I have faith in Mama Allene's words, too. And most of all, I have faith in the mighty God we serve.”

Isaiah and Henrietta lay silent and still, syncing their hearts and minds into one unified beat.