White Lines III (27 page)

“I'm sorry,” he said, sincerely. “It wasn't planned. It just happened.”

“Bullshit.”

“It's not bullshit!” Zion licked his lips and frowned slightly. “Olivia, I moved out last year during the holidays. It's been more than six months that me and you have been living apart. We don't live together. We don't sleep together. Okay, so we never officially broke up. But don't make it sound like I've been cheating on you. Cuz that's not the truth.”

He was right, but Olivia ignored him. “You had her around my daughter.”

Zion had no defense. Olivia stared at him hard and unrelenting. At the risk of getting her mad again, he kept it real. “It's not like she never met Ava before. Adiva and Mercedes are friends. Sunny, Jada, Ava—they were all in the same little circle.”

“With me.” Olivia wanted to punch him in his face.

Zion looked away.

“How would you feel if I went and fucked one of your boys? Maybe somebody you're not
that
close with. Somebody like … I don't know, Frankie?”

Zion felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The very thought of that caused bile to rise up in his throat. He glared at her. “Where did that name come from?”

Olivia fanned her hand at him, dismissively. “Don't try to twist this around. The point is, how would you
feel
, Zion?”

He had to admit that she was right. He understood how she must feel. “If that happened, there's no telling what I would do.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean,
why
?”

“Why would there be no telling what you would do?”

He took a deep breath. “Because I care about you, Olivia. We've been together for years. Through all kinds of ups and downs. You know I'm always gonna love you.”

Olivia's heart broke. It sounded like this was leading up to good-bye. Even though she had known for months, maybe even years, that their relationship had run its course, she couldn't believe that this was really it. That they were going their separate ways for good, and that Zion might actually find happiness in the arms of someone else. That is, if he didn't go to jail for the rest of his life instead.

“I hate imagining you with some other dude,” he said, honestly. “For real. I guess that's a double standard or whatever, but it's how I feel.” He wiped his face with his hand. “The problem has never been about me not loving you or nothing like that. You're still sexy, still got that hustler's spirit that I love. I guess I just stopped liking you over the years.”

“Fuck you, Zion.”

He shrugged. “Okay. Fuck me, then. But that's how I feel. You got too much mouth.” He opened and shut his hand rapidly in a quacking motion, demonstratively. “You stopped having my back, and I can understand that you grew up and didn't want me hustling no more. Fine. I can handle that. But sometimes it's not about what you say, it's how you say it. And instead of hearing you say, ‘I love you. I'm scared. Maybe it's time to step out the game,' you came at me crazy. Snapping at me like I'm your son instead of your man. Starting fights with me in front of your family. And it turned me off.” Again, he shrugged. “I probably shouldn't have got caught up with Ava. I understand why that pisses you off. But it wasn't planned. She just came around at the right time.”

“Okay,” Olivia said. She had heard enough. “Fine. So you go your way, and I'll go mine.” She wished it was as easy as she made it sound. “You think Ava's gonna go the distance with you? Miss Corporate Attorney? You believe she's cut out for this life you got her thrown into? She's not built like us. She's from Brooklyn. She got Jada as her sister. But, she's not Jada. So I hope you know that you're stuck with that.” Olivia wiped her hands together. “It's a wrap for us. Even if she lets you down. Don't come running back to me, Zion.”

He knew her well enough to tell that she wanted to cry, but was fighting it with all she had. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he was sorry. But he knew she wasn't that type of chick. Olivia was too tough for her own good sometimes. “I deserve that,” he said honestly. “I let you down. Not just with Ava. But this, too.” He spread his arms and looked around at his abysmal surroundings. “You tried to tell me that it was time to move on. I just was too stubborn to listen.”

Zion looked down at the table, toyed with this hands. He had gotten too comfortable in a life that wasn't meant to be long term.

Olivia felt her heart break a little more, seeing him sitting there beaten, bruised, and sad. She knew that she would never love another man the way that she had loved Zion for so long. Even though he had hurt her deeply, she wanted him to be happy. She wanted to see him anywhere but here in this cage.

Zion looked into her eyes. “I'm sorry to hear about Sunny,” he said.

Olivia nodded. She was, too. She hung her head at the thought of her friend. “I can't believe she's gone.”

Zion shook his head. “Old habits die hard,” he said. “Sunny's old habits killed her. Mine may cost me my freedom.”

“Where's Gillian?” Olivia asked.

Zion raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, why is she the only one not named in the indictment?”

Zion had wondered the same thing. “She's not the only one.”

“True. But, she's the only
major
player who's not in the same position as you,” Olivia reminded him.

“I don't know,” he said. “I can't talk to her from in here.”

Olivia shook her head. “So, suddenly
you're
the kingpin of the whole operation and she just walks away? You're okay with that?”

Everyone within the family knew that Gillian called the shots. Sure, Zion had her ear these days. But he was not the head of the crew as the indictment suggested. Tongues had started wagging about who had been swept up by the feds, and who had not. And, like Olivia, there were many people questioning Gillian's good fortune.

Zion didn't answer right away. He trusted Gillian. In the years since she had taken the helm, she had always shown herself to be worthy of her crew's loyalty. There were others within the family who Zion wasn't so confident about. But his instinct told him that Gillian was not the reason he was sitting behind bars.

“When Maury gets me out of here, I'll handle everything,” he said simply.

Olivia felt angry then. Had Ava not been in the picture, Olivia would have gone to visit Gillian. She would have asked all of the questions that Zion couldn't ask himself, given his present circumstances. She would have harassed Maury relentlessly until he argued effectively enough on Zion's behalf that bail was granted for him. She would have ensured that his commissary was maxed out, and that a lawsuit was filed against the officers who had beaten him this way. But she pictured the terror in Adiva's eyes when she had picked her up from the precinct after Zion's arrest. She remembered the pain of seeing Ava stand before the courtroom, fresh out of Zion's bed and wearing his clothes. And she reminded herself that his problems were no longer her own.

“I wish you well,” she said. “I really do. I have to focus on taking care of Adiva. 'Cause whether you come home tomorrow or ten years from now, I have to make sure that she's alright. I have my company to grow, and my life to live. So…” She felt like she was giving a speech, and that wasn't her intention. “I just wish you well, Zion. I hope it all works out and that you can be free.”

He felt himself getting emotional. “I love you, Olivia. I want you to be happy, too.”

She let a tear fall, but quickly erased any trace of it. She picked up her visitor's pass, pushed back her chair, and stood up. Zion stood also. Olivia walked around the table and embraced him. Their hug was strong and meaningful. They were aware of the COs yelling for them to separate, aware that everyone in the visiting room was looking at them. But they didn't care. Olivia kissed Zion on his cheek, as one officer neared them. She touched his face. “I love you, too,” she said. “Take care of yourself.”

The guards belligerently carried on about how their visit was being terminated and ordered Zion to walk over to the inmate exit. But it didn't matter. Olivia was already on her way out the door, their visit terminated the moment that tear had fallen from her eye. He had never meant to break her heart. But they both knew that this breakup was for the best. Still, as she exited the visiting room, the prison, and their relationship, Zion knew that Olivia would always be special to him for as long as he lived.

 

16

CROSSROADS

Camille squirmed. Eli was staring at her, his eyes probing her for the truth. She felt like a bug, trapped in a jar and being stared at by her captor. Only she wasn't trapped. She and Eli were sitting together in Central Park, discussing Frankie's case.

“I'm the only one who can help him, Eli.”

He toyed with his key ring. “You're telling me this man has no family, no friends, nobody else that can step up and help him out? I don't think that's true.”

“Honestly, all he has is his mom. But she's old and basically a recluse. She can barely keep herself going.” Camille hadn't seen Frankie's mom since Bria was born two years ago. Sometimes it felt like she hadn't seen Frankie since then either. “I just feel bad, Eli. It has nothing to do with me and him. That's
been
over.”

It was true. After Gillian rebuffed Frankie's attempts at reconciliation, he tried to come crawling back to Camille. But in the end it proved too complicated for them to dust themselves off and try again. Far too much had happened between them, not the least of which was the fact that Camille's sister had murdered Frankie's brother for molesting her child. Camille found herself falling in love with Eli, and she told Frankie so. That seemed to be the deal breaker. Soon after that conversation, Frankie's visits to see his daughter became less frequent. Since then, Eli had been more involved in Camille's and Bria's lives than Frankie.

Eli didn't say anything for a while as he mulled it over. “Why can't his cohorts help him out?” Eli stared into Camille's eyes. They both knew what Frankie's real line of business was. Sure, he owned a barbershop, a pool hall, and had his name on a couple of other legitimate companies. But those closest to him knew the truth. Ei had been with Camille long enough to be in on the not-so-well-kept secret that Frankie was a drug dealer.

Camille didn't answer. How could she? She had no idea what was going on in Frankie's life, let alone in his business. “Fine,” she said. “I won't bail him out, or visit him, or nothing.”

Eli looked visibly relieved. “I know you think I'm being harsh.”

Camille didn't respond.

“Do you still love him?” It was a question he hadn't asked Camille since the early days of their relationship.

Camille looked down at her hands and shook her head. “Not in the way you might think. I know the old Frankie. The guy who was ambitious, and fun. But since his brother died…” Camille couldn't bring herself to utter Steven's name. It disgusted her to think of what he had done to her nephew. Shane was progressing normally, but the scars remained on their family forever. “Since he died, Frankie's been going downhill. He needs help.” She found Eli's eyes again. “The Frankie I love is gone for good, I think. But I just feel kinda sorry for the shell that's left behind.”

Eli looked away, watching a horse-drawn carriage go by.

“I don't know why his so-called friends left him high and dry. But I do know that he's Bria's father. I just wanted to extend an olive branch.” A thought occurred to her. “What if I write him a letter?” Camille took Eli's hand in hers.

“He's barely been around,” Eli reminded her, sympathetically. “You can't make him have a relationship with her if he doesn't want it.” He shrugged. “Write him the letter.”

Camille's eyes brightened. “You can read it before I mail it,” she offered.

“I trust you.” Eli loved Camille. He loved her enough to understand her need to reach out to Frankie. Camille had a kind heart and an innocence about her. Perhaps, at times, she was a bit naïve. But family was important to her. And love was, too. “I don't need to read it. Just write it and see what happens. Hope for the best.”

Camille smiled and kissed him on his cheek.

The next morning, as Eli left to begin his shift, he noticed a note on the coffee table. He stopped and picked it up, thinking it might be some mail. And it was. A letter from Camille to Frankie. She had left it there for him to read.

Frankie,

I know that things are crazy for you right now. I wish there was something I could do to help you out. I haven't heard from you in a while. And that's the reason that I'm writing to you.

I don't know much about what you're going through right now. But whatever happens, whether you come home or go away for a long time, Bria is growing every day. When she smiles, the corners of her eyes crease exactly like yours. She is a beautiful little girl. She's your daughter. We didn't succeed at marriage, but we did succeed in bringing forth a wonderful addition to this world. I want you to see her, Frankie. I can bring her to see you along with your mom, if you want.

Write me back and let me know if it's okay. I'm praying for you.

Love,

Camille

Eli folded the letter and placed it back on the table. He placed his watch on top of it, so that Camille would know that he'd seen it. Then he walked out the door, hoping that Frankie wouldn't let her down again.

*   *   *

Ava was in her office packing up boxes of her personal belongings. This was a sad day in her career. She had been called into the office of the managing partner, and summarily fired. The publicity from her recent arrest was hurting the firm. Plus, it didn't help that she had been associated with the raving lunatic Sunny Cruz, who had disrupted business at the firm weeks ago. The firm of Bradwell, Foster, and Knight decided that it was best that they sever ties with Ava. Sadly, she had returned to her office and began packing. She felt like such a failure.