Love Redeemed, Book 4 (42 page)

“I didn’t
know
about you,” he emphasizes the word and I comprehend that he’d only known me as a legendary character, not as a well-documented criminal who’s file you could easily pull for reference, because
that
I’ve never been. I’ve always laid low, always avoided arrests and serious investigations, until now. “I’d heard through microscopic whispers that you were a very resourceful “conduit” for
unconventional
matters.”

I
want to clarify that I’m no snitch. I’ve never cooperated with law enforcement for legal matters. I’d always brought them over to my side when they needed extra bread and I needed to “enforce” my hustling agenda. I’ve also only worked directly with less than a handful of those fuckers, never wanting to get too acquainted with them. Theirs was a necessary association.  It was a mutually beneficial exchange of powers.

“David is my only child
.” Dave’s eyes shoot over to me, breaking my reverie. “I knew that my time on the force pushed my parenting to the back burner and I neglected him, but I’d be damned if I lost him to the fucking streets that I spent a career protecting.” Dave’s face turns a shade of burgundy. I sit back, placid, giving him my undivided attention.

“I was so damn desperate when I made the call for your help. Damn it, it was e
ither my career or my son’s life! For once, I chose him. It seemed fair.” Dave’s glazed eyes meet mine. “Without question or an in-kind request, you agreed to get my child out of there, even if by an inch of his life. I will be indebted to you far beyond my pension’s depletion.”

I continue
with my silence. Quite honestly, I have nothing to say. I helped him without even informing Big D as a reference for Munick, something I did occasionally, not always wanting to merge or match associations with him. Right now, it’s clear to me that Dave is beleaguered. Whatever he’s attempting to get off his chest is heavy. His eyes pace the table below.

“All of the suicide attempts, monies stolen, jewelry disappearing into
midair. Christ…the kitchen window being broken after we’d taken his house keys—none of that compares to having your child missing for months, fearing him dead. I had to step up and do something most unconventional.” Snapping out of it, he squares his shoulders and moves his gaze to me with newfound determination to get through this conversation.

“You’re being investigated by one on my team
.” Dave eyes me cautiously for a reaction. I give none. This isn’t news to me. My people informed me months ago that Lombardi reported to a Dave Munick. I could’ve reached out to him to gauge his position, but I didn’t jump to play that hand; I kept it in my pile of cards to pick when needed. Even since Big D’s arrest. I’ve doled my cards methodically. “And I’m sure it comes at an inconvenience to a man of your…repertoire.”

Still, I g
ive him nothing. He isn’t speaking with the right type of clarity. I’ll just wait. We play the eye game for what feels like hours. I will not fold until he shows his fucking hand.

Then there’
s a spark in his eyes, a sudden revelation. “You invited David to meet someone. Am I correct in assuming it’s a
special
lady? Men of your stature don’t go around introducing Betty from the Blackbook. I know you’re a private man, so I’ll have to take a guess. Is she your leading lady…wife perhaps?” The flicker in his eyes tells me he’s done some research, but I don’t confirm it.

I go for my brandy.
“I’ll tell you like a friend of mine has so eloquently coined it.” I take a sip. “I got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain’t one, Captain.”

He gives a snort, apparently picking up my connotation. “Not only is the case, leads, and evidence futile—consequential inspiration at best, but Lombardi has blown his self-initiated case by sleeping with an associate of the suspect,” Dave says, conspicuously as he sips his drink, not removing his eyes from mine.

“An employee?”

He nods.
“…of
Cobalt
. A Tracy Edwards?”

Tracy, my
assistant manager, is fucking Lombardi?
Get the fuck outta here…
  

“You don’t seem very surprised, Azmir…” Dave is eyeing me
questioningly again.

“Surprised is an understatement,” is all I give him.

He expects me to be shitting bricks right now about the threat of my former empire being infiltrated. However, what he doesn’t know is that I don’t double dip on employees. My legal associates remain legal and my illicit acquaintances stay on their side of the tracks. Ain’t shit Tracy could give
One-Time
unless she manufactured it.

“Well, be that as it may, Lombardi
has been reprimanded. Not sure of his sanctions, but he will be of no consequent to you moving forward.” Dave exhales long, indicating the wrapping of this extremely informative confab. He empties his glass with his body inclined, “I may never be able to utter a formal
thanks
, but I can get that pisser off your back before I retire, and hope that this Sabrina that David has mentioned will give me grandbabies.” Dave takes from the table.

“Goodnight, Azmir,” he mutters as he
takes to the door. I make note of his obedience to the name reference immediately. I’m not too far behind him, on my way to the marina.

I feel weightless with this news. Although Lombardi wasn’t pushing with much, it’s never a good look to have
One-Time
on your ass. The last few months of my reign in the drug game had been risky with him on my heels. Nobody wants to fuck with a marked man. Although I’ve been retired for months, I’m a very lucky man to have dodged several bullets stemming from Lombardi’s investigation. I race home to my wife. My life.

When I get in, Rayna’s sleeping on top of the beddings. Her laptop is open and I see she was working on staff reports when she fell into slumber.
I remove the laptop from the bed, then the decorative pillows before pulling down the beddings to plant Rayna inside. I carry her delicately because that’s exactly what she is to me. I’ve gotten my piece of joy and now I can enjoy her without the threat of losing her to my dark past.

As I strip down to just my boxers, anxiously ready to join my wife in bed, I
deliberate on how I’ve just gotten news worthy of celebrating. The irony in it is the only person I want to celebrate with is the precisely the one I don’t want to know a damn thing about it. I study her while she sleeps and realize that Rayna has brought me the motivation I needed to finally leave the game. It was certainly in the plans, but her abrupt presence propelled me to walk away from it all.

If you told me I’d lose my fortune in the near future, I would still decide to leave my organization, if it meant I could keep Rayna by my side. I’ll be a hustler until they bury me, I can always make a dollar. But I could never get another woman who makes me believe in possibilities beyond me.
The possibility of love.

I close my eyes and
contemplate the phrase from Rayna’s vows—
love’s improbable possibility
.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rayna

As I walk to my car, all the way in the rear of the recreation center’s parking lot, the sun’s illumination is dim, but there are still hours left before it will retreat and I’m glad to still have the energy to make it to my counseling session. First, I plan to stop at the mall to pick up Erin a
Hello Kitty
cover for her iPad. I called ahead and was told there are only three left.

Unexpectedly
, I hear footsteps behind me. Usually, I wouldn’t be so alarmed, but since John was called away on an emergency this morning, I’m somewhat alert. His presence has given me a security blanket effect. I turn to chance a glance over my shoulder, but I’m unable to catch an image so quickly. I hate having security, but in this moment, I wish with everything I have that I had someone with me.

Calm down, Rayna! Don’t be ridiculous, you’re in a huge parking lot.
But no one I know is around, at least anywhere that I could see. Azmir said he’d have someone observe me to my car, but I was too impatient to wait for that arrangement, I have things to do. I hear the footsteps speed up, gaining on me. I then increase my sprint towards my car…as does the stride behind me. My heart begins to race. Similar to the incident with Azmir in Puerto Vallarta, it’s fight or flight.
What to do?
Once I make it to the car, I’ll need time to get in and lock the doors. I could be attacked trying to do that. I can’t help it. I have to confront this.

I
jolt around to meet whatever is behind me, and when I do, I yell, “For what…why are you on my ass?”

Out of nowhere,
Marcus calls out, “You gotta problem here, homes?” as he races toward my perpetrator.

The man
is tall, with dark hair and olive skin. He wears a blue jacket, a black shirt, blue jeans, and thick black shoes that could be confused for boots. He’s scowling at Marcus whose presence has apparently surprised him, too.

Marcus
is close up on him at this point and is preparing to grab the guy before he screeches, “I’m law enforcement!” He flips out his badge and goes for his gun at the same time. Marcus attempts his gun as well, but clearly quickly registers that he’s an officer and doesn’t expose it. The cop must notices and warns, “I’m gonna assume that you were about to scratch an itch that’s instantly disappeared rather than preparing to pull a gun on an officer,” in a quirky tone.

Marcus wears
an expression of,
Your badge is the only reason I’m not kicking your ass
.

“What
are you doing following me around then? And don’t say you weren’t because Marcus wouldn’t be here if he, too, didn’t consider you a threat!” I demand.

“Consider it an act of kindness from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I’m sorry if I’ve alarmed yo
u,” he ends apologetically.

“Well then, what
is going on? Do I need to file a complaint?” I grate.

“M
rs. Jacobs, I need to talk to you about Divine. There are some—” he attempts.

“Who?” I belt.

“I’m sorry. Azmir Jacobs…your husband. There are some things you need to know about him…for your safety,” he continues.

Now,
I know my husband’s full name, but it doesn’t register with me right away. Maybe because of the way he enunciated it, or that was the last thing I thought I’d hear, but initially I have no clue of who this man is referring to.

“Rayna, man, just go ‘head home. You ain’t gotta listen to
this pig!” Marcus pleads before turning to him and saying, “Unless you’re gonna arrest somebody, you need to get the fuck outta here. This private property, fam,” in his rich Compton cadence.

The detective chuckle
s while giving Marcus a sly smile. He then turns to me while fumbling in his back pocket. “My name is Agent Lombardi. Mrs. Jacobs, I think you should know that Jacobs is a very dangerous man who’s being investigated for being at the helm of a major drug trafficking and distribution operation. I just thought you should know seeing that you’re married into something you likely had no idea existed.” He then tries to hand me a manila envelope.

“Yo, man!”
Marcus yells as he extends his arm. I can tell he wants to prevent me from hearing what the detective is saying.

What i
s he saying?
This can’t be. I’d know if my soul mate, the man that I’ve committed my life to was a lowlife drug dealer—or kingpin no less. This was out of this world ridiculous!

“Be easy…
” this detective guy, Lombardi, warns. “…before my perception of your hand going towards your waist area changes and we drive out of here with you in cuffs for illegal possession of a fire arm and attempted murder of law enforcement,” It’s all happening too fast.

“Why the hell do you assume I don’t have a gun permit or that my weapon isn’t legally registered to me? You wanna try me?” Marcus
counters. I can tell he’s up for the challenge.

His eyes
are locked on the agent. All I can wonder was
what in the hell is going on?
If the agent is awaiting on a response from me, he’ll surely be disappointed because I’m at a loss for words. And I’m certainly not about to accept an envelope from someone who has clearly marked Azmir as an enemy. This is insane!

Lombardi slowly turn
s on his heels to leave. There’s something smug about him; his claim to be looking out for me aside.
Is that why he’s stalked me to my car?
Is that what a good Samaritan does?
He quietly walks off as I stand, looking dumfounded, staring at the back of him until he disappears from my line of sight.

“You a’ight, Rayna?”
Marcus asks.

This
is all so eerie to me. It’s perplexing that Azmir has insisted I have security with me at all times. It’s more unnerving to think I could be attacked at any time. So, I complied, but limitedly. I was insistent on not having anyone replacing John just for a few hours, in tow like I’m Kate Middleton or someone of social status. And almost immediately this happens. I’ve also been followed randomly by paparazzi.
Talk about a lifestyle change
.