Love Redeemed, Book 4 (6 page)

“Indeed.”

As I
place the phone back on its cradle, I turn to my midday visitor. I watch as he takes his time examining my office. I feel no concerns or anxiety of having
One-Time
in my space. I need him to know this as well. I remain silent and amble over to the conference table near the panoramic window that I see him so fascinated with.

Within seconds, he turn
s to acknowledge me. I extend my hand for him to take a seat across from me. With a moment of hesitation, he complies. Here is a battle of authority at its best. This is my fucking court, there’s no way he’s leading this assembly. I’m sure to take my seat after his descent.  

“So,
Sergeant Lombardi, how can I be of service to you?” I initiate—and very politely as I pull my pocket watch from the breast pocket of my shirt.

Lombardi’s eyelids
rise. “Service? I’m not sure that’s the appropriate term for the purpose of this visit.” He lets a small snort slip.

Here we go with the bullshit. And so soon.
I extend my arms and rest my elbows on the table.

“
Sergeant, it is the middle of my workday. I have countless tasks to take on before I close my eyes this evening. I cleared a few minutes to extend an invitation to one of L.A.’s finest who’s been inquiring about me for months. I think the least you can do is grant me the courtesy of cutting the bullshit and getting straight to the point.” I issue him a tentative glare. I can quickly assess that he doesn’t appreciate my tone, but wisely decides his next move.

“Well, Mr. Jacobs,” Lombardi stretche
s his eyelids again and brings his intertwined fists to his mouth as he speaks, “Since May of this year, the Special Investigations Unit has been investigating a Detective Darryl Harrison and his alleged involvement in distributing and trafficking illegal substances. Your name has surfaced in the investigation as a partner in one of the largest drug rings in Southern California. I’ve been simply doing my due diligence of ruling you out as an accomplice or adding you as a target of possibly one of the most prevalent drug operations in recent years.” Lombardi pauses to read my reaction to his answer.

I t
ake a moment to retort. “Distributing and trafficking illegal substances…with Detective Harrison,” I repeat for clarification. “Sergeant, serious allegations such as this one couldn’t possibly have you sniffing around in some of the most undesirable neighborhoods, asking about my activities, or a lack thereof, for a possible co-conspirator conviction,” I inform with incredulity in my tone. It sounds so ridiculous.

“I think you
diminish the seriousness of it, Jacobs.”

“I’m simply regurgita
ting what my mind has processed.”

“Well, chew on this while you’re at it: if I learn that you do have any involvement with Darryl Harrison, which I’m certain you do, I will prosecute you along with that sorry as
s excuse of a man wearing the badge that I honor and protect every day of my life.” Lombardi gives me a warning glare.

I nod my head tentative
ly. “Sounds like you’ve marked me a suspect already.” I’m now confident that he has no case against me.

“I’m good at what I do, Mr. Jacobs. I’ve been in investigations for nearly twenty years. It’s only a matter of putting the pieces together. If you don’t believe me, you can ask your buddy
, Harrison, when he calls you collect to inform you of his recent arrest, happening…” Lombardi glances down at his watch. “…right now.” His gaze returns to me, sans a smile or cocky grin. He’s trying to play hardball.

Do they really have Big D?

“Sergeant Lombardi, I’ve invited you to my place of work—without my attorney. This seems like a witch-hunt that I will not engage in without my legal team.” I’m sure to give him a strong regard so that he can see how firm I am on his attempt to shake me like some street-level runner. If he’s out to get me on anything, he’ll have to come better than this. I know the game. My black ass would be down at the station in cuffs if Lombardi’s assumptions were solid. “Quite frankly, I don’t believe you have the shit you need to throw against the wall to watch and see if it sticks. Detective Harrison is a former friend of my father—”  

“The man he murdered,” Lombardi interrupt
s. I pause at his words. I quickly decide that I won’t crack underneath his allegation. If he can prove it, then that would be the doom of Darryl Harrison. Lombardi’s inquisitive stare hooks into me, awaiting my reaction.

With lifted brows
, I snort, “Shit just got more interesting. So, to be sure that I have this correct: you’re investigating a fellow decorated officer, who may possibly be trafficking and distributing illegal substances that I may be a party to. And said officer allegedly murdered my father?”

Lombardi d
oesn’t provide a response. He sits with his gaze keenly fixed on me.

I continue with, “Well, this has been a well-informed meeting,
Sergeant Lombardi.” I rise from the table. “I’ll leave you to continue to waste tax payers’ money. Me, on the other hand, I have far more valuable things to do with my extremely limited time.” I extend my hand to close this conversation.

Lombardi glances at my proffered hand for countless seconds before rising from his seat. I c
an tell he feels it. He knows I can see the frailty of his case. I mean, for fuck’s sake, he’s fishing for evidence in the hood. That’s bold…and desperate at best. Never again will he get penciled in my appointment book.

“Introduction,” he utter
s.

“
Pardon…”

“This has only been an introduction,” Lombardi states resolutely
, ignoring my hand. “See, you may not be a low-level management hustler, but you are a scum peddler, no less. You may have the benefit of hiding behind your millions in legal armor, but crack crumbs will always trail back to the pusher. You, Azmir Jacobs, are the pusher of dope to the masses.” Lombardi finally takes my hand in a firm shake, one that I am prepared for in power. “Mr. Jacobs, I don’t know how I’m going to get you, but you will fall…and crumble. Darryl Harrison is en route to his knees as we speak. You’ll meet him there. I’m sure of it.”

With a smug grin etched to my amused face I murmur, “Good luck with that,
Sergeant.”

Lombardi walks over to the door and inches away he turns to me. “Your fiancée
you mentioned earlier while on the phone?” His face wrinkles and head angles, “How much are you willing to lose the possibility of a future with her? How important is that happily-ever-after with her?” If he thinks I’ll flinch, Lombardi is more deluded than I thought.

“Just as much as I am willing to bet that your far
-reaching case against me is just as defective as your imagination. Good luck, Jimmy.”

I know I’m
pushing pretty hard with that reference. But I need him to know that I am a discerning man. I know my opponents, even before they realize.
Fucking respect me
.

Lombardi chuckle
s as he makes his way out of my office. After closing my door, I pay a few pensive moments to our exchange. I have to recount his offerings of information to contemplate how I will respond to them. I’m at the end of my reign in the drug world. I’ll be damned if I get hung on charges at this stage of the game. Fuck that. I have a real future now. I have Rayna. She’s my now and my forever. I get chills just acknowledging this. No matter what obstacles lay ahead, I swear they’ll be overcome because I am just that determined to make this woman as happy as she deserves to be. She’s given me reasons to look beyond money and power. She’s the reason I’m looking forward to living with no guards. No limits. Just Rayna.

I
’ve made it my mission to be a constant in her world. She needs that. Consistency. She’s spoken about that and security. She’s told me those two phenomena have come up in her counseling sessions. And secretly, I’ve jumped to the challenge. She’s going to be my wife soon, I have work to do and with great enthusiastic pleasure.

With great trepidation,
I pick up the phone to initiate the next demonstration of my attempts at restoring her world.

Rayna

It’s Friday night, a week after Azmir’s proposal. I’m still reeling at the idea of being someone’s fiancée. ‘
Azmir proposed. Azmir loves me.’
resounds repetitively in my mind from the moment I see the gorgeous ring on my left hand. Doubt, which is always accompanied by fear, appears in succession. I fight, each time, the dark clouds of pessimism.
I can do this.
And almost without fail, Michelle’s comforting voice echoes through my head—my heart, “
You alone are worthy
.”

It’s been a battle, but I
’m determined to win and to learn to love this man and trust him freely. Azmir deserves that. He’s been my rock in such a short period of time. He deserves my determination. In the moments I don’t want to fight for myself, I will fight for Azmir. Always. 

It
’s been a long day already. I’ve spent the entire morning and afternoon with Yazmine at a flower show in Pasadena. Even though I have
big brother
, also known as John, shadowing, I thought it would be nice to take her out there to get an idea of the type of garden she’s preparing to grow in the backyard. I don’t have a whole lot of space back there, but it would certainly be nice to see beautiful flowerbeds in the yard. She needs something to keep her occupied and collectively, we thought this would be nice. Sharon told me about the flower show a while back and I figured today was a great opportunity to experience it with Azmir’s mother. I even bought her a few things to help get her started. She was so anxious to begin when I left her to it.

I
then rushed to the marina to shower and change for this evening. Azmir is sponsoring a skate-a-thon for the youth in the Watts. He’s chartered buses and paid for drivers to escort those without transportation to the skating rink. He invited me down, though he knew we wouldn’t be able to travel together. He has a meeting, but insisted that I take Chanell and have Ray drive us in the Range Rover. Because of the element of people, Azmir insisted that I coordinate my arrival with Petey so that I’d have security. I don’t understand why muscle is necessary, but don’t challenge him. He knows these people better than I do. Also, from my experience with them down at the club in Compton, I think it’s best not to argue.

Chanell and I walk throug
h the rear entrance where Petey’s at the center of command. He assigns another guard to me.
Sheesh! Seriously?
I’m so happy to be out with Chanell that I don’t resist anything. Besides, I know these are Azmir’s orders. Chanell and I hit the small wet bar and order a couple of drinks. She, of course, knows everyone in the building and hit all of them with, “Yo, ‘dis Divine fiancée!” I don’t know if my buddy is that happy for me or if she scores points by being tight with Divine’s woman. I take it all in stride because of my affinity for Chanell.

After
twenty minutes or so of people watching—or should I say, having people watch me as if I were Michelle Obama—I nudge Chanell, “Let’s hit the rink.” 

Chanell
’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “You wanna hit the rink, Ray?”

I
wrinkle my face. “Why wouldn’t I? Let’s go, girl,” I issue with a hint of attitude.

She
informs her girls that are standing next to her. I pat John on the shoulder, telling him we’re going to rent skates. Before I know it, we’re on the floor gliding. I haven’t skated in about ten years or so and I’m a bit rusty. Chanell is far worse off. She’s trying to hold onto others for support. She knows full well that her amazon frame can bring the both of us down as she tries using me to stay afloat.

“
Chanell, you better let it go. I’m still trying to regain my memory, girl!” I playfully scold her. 

“Wait the fuck up, Ray! Im’
ma get it. I just need a minute!” she cries desperately. It’s hilarious to watch.

“Okay. I’ll slow it down
.” And I do. It takes her several rounds to get the right coordination, but she eventually gets it.

Skating
turns out to be a blast! I’m sure the alcohol helps. The music is off the chain. The D.J.’s on fire. He plays party records like Frankie Beverly & Maze’s
Before I Let Go
, CeeCee Peniston’s
Finally
, Beyonce’s
We Like to Party,
and Jeff Red’s
You Called and Told Me
. I’m in a nice groove on the rink. I take note of the many times the D.J. shouts out Azmir in his absence. He’s showing love to the man that made it all possible. My heart’s elated. Azmir is a man of many layers. Just a few weeks ago, I had accompanied him to a charity function at a mansion in Beverly Hills and tonight we’re with the folks of the Watts. To say my life has been whimsical since encountering Azmir is saying very little.

I
’m jamming to the New Jack Swing Era when someone skates up so close to me that they’re on my backside.
What the...!
I jerk my head around to see Azmir flashing his coochie-creaming smile. It’s warm and well received by my heart. He’s such a gorgeous man. He’s wearing a black fitted long-sleeve knitted shirt with dark indigo denim jeans. His hair is freshly cut into a Caesar and his fast growing goatee is such a turn on. I could get used to it. He gives me swift kiss on the temple. I guess he wants to keep it simple in public. Or is it that we’re skating and there isn’t much fondling we can do without falling? Either way, I’m smitten by his presence.

Wait. I
s he skating? And effortlessly?

“
I didn’t know you could skate,” I yell over the music.

“
Ms. Brimm, you have no idea the extent of my talents.”

I blush
. With his long arm, he grabs me by the waist and we glide together to the music. The D.J. blasts over the speakers, “Ayo, e’rbody! We got royalty in the building. Divine, the god, just hit the door and now he on the rink with his fiancée. Let’s show my man some love, y’all. He ‘bout to get hitched. Congrats to him and ‘da future Missus. One love, yo.” The crowd goes up in applause and whistles.

I
’m so embarrassed that I try to hide under Azmir’s long arms while keeping my stride. I’m not used to fanfare. I don’t think Azmir likes it either, but he’s been floating on cloud nine since I said yes. He gives the crowd a wave. They love it. And as we brisk past a young guy watching the rink from the floor, I hear him yell, “Yo, man! I always looked up to you like a father, man. Much respect, homie!” Azmir raises his hand to the kid in acknowledgement of the endearing statement as we skate past. That’s a rather warm response to the announcement opposed to the chicks that gives the nastiest gawks. I’ve grown accustomed to those and the other type of women who point and whisper. 

“What are you drinking?”
Azmir asks while taking my drink from my hand and sipping my cocktail before I can answer.

“
Ilk! This is disgusting. What is this shit?” 

I shrug
. “Some sort of martini.” I giggle.

“
All right. That’s it. Time to go,” he commands, pointing to an opening where we can exit. 

“
Already? You just got here,” I protest.
And so did I for that matter
.

He
nods his head in resolute stubbornness. “I have something I need to show you. We have to go.” He grabs me by the waist to guide me over to exit the rink. My stop is barely smooth. Azmir’s is more so. I see the guards making room for us so that we can get to the counter to return our skates. I had one of the security guards hold my
Tom Ford
pumps while I was on the rink. The last thing I needed is to have them five-fingered by the staff and have ruined a good night for Azmir. As I’m slipping on my shoes, my attention draws to Petey approaching us.

“
Y’all out, Duke?” 

“Yup.
Got some plans for shorty,” Azmir says, pulling me close to him. The onlookers seem so amazed by our presence. “You good, right?” 

“
Yeah, man. Ronnie holding shit down,” assures Petey.

“
Be sure to tell ‘em I said he did a good job on the planning this year. This is a neutral location.”

“
Yeah, so far no drama,” Petey informs. Azmir extends his hand to Petey in an upright position and leans into him to give him some dap. Petey follows suit and then turns to kiss me on the cheek. He’s been greeting me this way since Vegas. It shocked me at first because he doesn’t come off as an expressive man. Petey reserves his smiles. But he’s warmed up to me without effort on my part. I soak it all up. It’s nice and I know Azmir approves.

“
Soon ta’ be ‘da Missus! I like that!” Petey gushes. I’m once again embarrassed by the attention, but flattered to receive it from Petey. I give a bashful smile and ask him to give Chanell my regards. I lost her when Azmir whisked me off the rink.

The bodyguards navigate us through the crowds to the back door where we jump into the Range Rover.

“How did you get here?” I ask Azmir. I know he wouldn’t leave his car behind and seeing that Ray brought me leads me to wonder.

As he
plays around on his phone, he murmurs, “Oh, errr...Kid dropped me off. I had him pick me up from my meeting.”

“Oh, okay.” I s
it and wonder, ‘
Where are we going at this hour?’
 

Seconds later
, he maneuvers in his seat to face me and says, “Listen, where I’m taking you to...where we’re going is to meet with someone.” His face is preoccupied as he’s trying to process his thoughts and spoon-feed them to me at the same time. I know Azmir; he’s struggling with something.

“Jacobs
, you’re scaring me,” I say with a soft smile because the truth is he’s giving a disclaimer. And disclaimers are typically preceded by bad news. “It’s not befitting of a confident and powerful man such as yourself to appear so...anxious.” I continue to smile softly.

With distress and doub
t in his eyes he snorts, “Trying to walk the straight and narrow with you makes a man second guess himself quite often.”

In th
is moment, I want to straddle him and reassure my feelings for him, but I don’t want to overdo it. I
woman up
and use my words instead.

“
Azmir, I trust you. You have to know this,” I chuckle. “For crying out loud, I’ve agreed to be your wife. And after hearing Pastor Edmondson explain the role of a husband in a household how God sees it, I realize it’s a
huge
commitment.” I gleam up at his beautiful face. I was going for humor, but Azmir doesn’t follow suit. I pause and search his eyes, but can’t pick up the nature of his apprehension. 

As the truck comes to a stop
, he gives a sharp exhale and bows his head, embattled. It tears my heart, so I do the only thing I can think of doing. I pull him up by the chin and lay the warmest and most impassioned kiss on his lips. Once over the shock, he returns the sentiment and grabs me by the waist. Azmir’s strong arms pull me into him, but not trying to go beyond the kiss. He wants me to know he’s here in the moment with me.

I withdraw. “Better?”
I ask with a faux pout mixed with a smile. Azmir’s eyes dance around my face as if he wants to share so much, but relents.

“
Come on. We’re here,” he says before sliding out of the truck and grabbing my hand to take me with him.

We walk into a boutique hotel where Azmir asks the concierge
at the front desk to direct us to the conference room. The young man instructs us where to go. Azmir doesn’t let go of my hand and I grow anxious by the second. As we approach the conference room door, he abruptly turns to me and pauses. He doesn’t say anything, but as I give a soft reassuring smile, he plants a light kiss on my lips and then turns to open the door.

The room is
long and partially lit. In the center of it is a long conference table that could possibly seat over a dozen. As my gaze makes its way around the empty room, I take notice of the frame of a small woman at the other end. She seems similar to the size of Yazmine, but I know it can’t possibly be her. It makes no sense. I just left her contented with gardening tools to plant to her heart’s delight. She never mentioned seeing me again today.

I look up to question our whereabouts.
Azmir says nothing and eventually the shadow of the woman strolls towards us. My eyes are glued to her. As she walks into the light, her silhouette disappears and her image comes into color. Once my brain registers the encounter I lose my breath, something that has never happened to me. Air completely abandons my lungs. My body freezes instantaneously and chills.

Azmir
catches on right away because he tightens his grip on my hand and steps close so that he uses his body to hold me up. My mouth is suspended in the air and my eyes wide open. It’s as if I’m seeing a ghost...because I am. It’s Samantha, my mother. I’m reminded yet once again that she slightly resembles the woman I knew a little more than ten years ago, but has aged tremendously from her hard run with the streets. Oddly enough, she doesn’t seem as desolate and malnourished as she did back in the summer when I saw her last.