A Test of Love: Interracial Erotic Romance (Chasing Love) (27 page)

“Hmm.” Vivian got on her right and I remained on her left. “So you went to Colorado after the shooting.”

“Well, I guess. I certainly didn’t hear any gunshots when I got in the car.”

“And you just drove straight to the airport and hopped on a plane?” Vivian asked.

“Yes.”

“With no luggage?” I asked.

“I’d already packed everything when I decided to leave Willow Park. Chase didn’t kick us out, but he sort of gave everyone a time limit to be out of there within a year.”

“What a coincidence,” Vivian muttered.

“I-I wouldn’t ever hurt Jasmine. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone.” Lucy came over as if she was trying to embrace me.

I shook my finger at her. “No way. I need some space. This is my bubble.” I made a big show of an imaginary one around me. “Respect the bubble, Lucy.”

“That’s right. Before we get Chuck Norris on that ass.” Vivian sliced the air and hit her pinky on the wall which she whined about for a few seconds.

Oh, goodness.

The door with the number two opened. Wendy strolled out in a silky pink robe that looked as if she may have had nothing underneath it. Her nipples poked at the material. I almost socked her in the chest, just for exuding so much freaking sex. A glass sat in her raised hand.

“Cheers, ladies. Is the party in the hallway?” she slurred.

We ignored her. For me, the only thing more annoying than Wendy was Dawn. I figured if I had to curse out anyone it would be with them both there at the same time to make it easier on my throat.

Regardless, I kept Wendy on my right and Lucy on my left. Who knew if they all worked together or not? Maybe they’d planned a moment very like this, when the guys sat downstairs and I had come up to them. Perhaps Lucy was the mastermind or maybe even Wendy.

No way. Dawn had to be the person in control. Nothing happens unless Dawn is consulted or at least told some of the story.

A question popped in my head. “Why did you all even come to the restaurant in the first place?”

“It’s kind of difficult to answer.” Lucy shifted her balance to her other foot. She exchanged glances with Wendy. I didn’t like that at all.

“Go ahead, Lucy,” I said.

“Maybe Wendy should answer that,” she suggested. “She was the one that got us all to go there.”

I backed away from her. Tension built in my shoulders. I flexed my fingers almost as a habit, something I did when preparing to punch someone. I didn’t hit people a lot, but the few times I had, I made my target. Half the time it wasn’t even necessary to fight. I got out of many scrapes by just flapping my gums or switching the whole situation around. This time I had no idea how the cards would play out.

Wendy asked them all to come? Why? Was that the plan all along? Get everyone there so she could cover her tracks when she shot me?

“I figured we could all talk to Chase and Jasmine.” Wendy chugged some of her drink. It was a murky brown liquid, not the type of clear fluid like a brandy or scotch on the rocks. This one had been mixed with something else that was darker, maybe a Coke.

“How did you know Chase and I were even in the restaurant?” I asked Wendy.

“Lucy told me.”

We all turned back to her. If I’d thought she couldn’t get any redder, I was wrong. She reminded me of the bad little kid in the Charles and the Chocolate Factory movie that ate the purple stuff and blew up like a berry.

“I only told you all that Chase and she would be at Lan as a guess, and Dawn made me tell you.” Lucy’s breathing increased. Her chest rose and fell in fast motions. “I mean it ended up being a good guess, but I didn’t know for sure. I just figured that he’d purchased Lan for a reason, and further inquiry revealed that Gabriel owned it; that’s Jasmine’s lover.”

“Friend,” I corrected. “Not lover.”

“Sorry.” Lucy grimaced. “Then Wendy said, ‘Let’s go down there and show that bitch how to share.’”

We all turned back to Wendy.

“Bitch, huh?” The expression that covered my face had to been one that I barely took out of my mental trunk unless one of these moments arrived. It was the mask of ignorance, the one I tried to hide and pretend it didn’t exist. Its message was ridiculous things of rage like:

I wish you would.

Come and get me.

Who you calling a bitch?

“I admit it.” Wendy put her glass to her lips and swallowed up the rest.

Drink your liquid courage, girl. You’re going to need it tonight.

“So you were mad at me?” I smiled.

“I could care less about you and him being together. My problem was that the arrangement was over, and I quite enjoyed being in it.” Wendy turned around and headed back into her bedroom. I captured her shoulder. She paused and stared at my hand on her. “Why are you touching me?”

“I’m not done talking.” I got closer to her as she turned around. “Did you get the gun and shoot me?”

“I don’t have a gun, and you need to back up.”

“Did you get there before everyone else?” I asked.

“I arrived when Lucy did.”

“Is that true?” Vivian’s voice sounded behind me.

“I think so,” Lucy said. “She was parking her car when I rode up.”

“Or at least she pretended to park it,” I muttered.

“Or. I. Did.” Wendy targeted me with an angry glare. “Are we done talking so that I can make another drink?”

I took a step her way. “No, bitch. We’re not.”

“Bitch?!” Wendy yelled. “You’re nothing compared to me. You got a trip to Rome and now you think you can walk around with the big dogs?”

“Girl, please. I read your binder. ’Your family makes mine look like the Huxtables.”

“I don’t even know who the Huxtables are.”

“Because you’re a ninny.” I flipped her off.

For some reason, Vivian sniffed the air and walked backwards. I didn’t care. It gave me more room to drop kick Wendy’s little skinny behind. “I hope you’ve put on something under that robe because everyone’s going to see your nastiness when I lay your stank-ass on the ground.”

“And why again are you getting violent with me?” Wendy was no dummy. She might’ve had a few drinks but she took some safety steps back into the room.

“I think you’re the one that shot me.”

“Then you’re just as stupid as Dawn and I figured.”

I dove for her, snatched those strands of hair, and yanked her butt to the floor. The only problem was as we both fell to the carpet. Loads of strands remained in my hand as she tumbled to the side.

Weave. Of course this fake bitch got a weave. Chase and his need to dress women.

“You’re insane!” Wendy’s robe opened. As I suspected, nothing lay underneath. I’d bet she’d been hoping for a special interrogation with Chase, one that required heavy moaning and moisture in the most intimate of places. Fire filled in my chest, so hot I was almost blinded with it as I jumped on her, scratching and slapping to my heart’s content. We tumbled up ahead.

“Guys! Stop!” Lucy or Vivian yelled. I had no idea who. Here I’d just been explaining to Troy and Chase that it was ridiculous to fight, and now I rumbled in my own bout with a half-naked drunk chick with a bad weave.

“You ghetto slut!” Wendy tried to snatch at my hair, but I’d been in too many fights to be that slow.

I smacked her hard on the face. The boom echoed in the hallway and had to reach everyone’s ears downstairs. The sound of people rushing up the stairs could be heard as I scratched at her forehead and tried to dig her fucking eyes out of the sockets.

“You want me, bitch! Here I am!” Her skin caked my nails. Red lines engraved her face. And still I pounded, never giving up. Now I could see what happened to Troy when he just lost it. That moment, when he’d just had enough of the bullshit and let it all go. I’d played it nice. I left Chase and his arrangement, with no judgments just the understanding that I couldn’t be involved.

“He chose me! Live with it!”

Huge arms lifted me up as I kicked my feet and wrenched off another layer of weave out of her head. Screeching, Wendy beat at my arms to let go. “Stop her! Make her stop!”

“Let go, baby. Please, let go.” Chase’s voice entered my head. It was the only thing that could get through the fog, the last thing on this earth that could get through to me just enough to show me the craziness of my actions. “
Tesoro
? Let go. This isn’t you.”

And so I did, but not after socking that ho in her left eye.

Laughter came from the end of the hall. I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know it was Vivian, especially after she yelled, “It must’ve been all those Chuck Norris jokes. He’ll do that to you sometimes.”

Chapter 24

TROY

It must’ve taken Chase ten minutes to get my screaming sister into his bedroom. Another five passed with her cursing and him remaining quiet. Ten minutes later, their ’headboard banged against the wall and Jazz was speaking in tongues.

Sex thickened the air, whether all the people in the hallway desired it or not. Although beaten and bruised, Wendy winked at me. Her robe stayed open enough to reveal the lovely body within. She was wack, but sensations flowed to my dick just the same.

I was a man after all.

Regardless, Viv didn’t appreciate Wendy’s giving view so I straightened up real quickly, told little man to chill out, and helped Wendy get off the floor. Once Wendy strolled into her bedroom and shut the door, only Lucy, Viv, and I remained. What an awkward group we were. Neither probably wanted to be there but no one had a reason to move out of the hallway.

Lucy intrigued me. It could’ve been her fucked-up story. If she’d been my sister, everyone involved in hurting her would’ve been dead. Every bastard who touched or watched would’ve been on that beach. And fuck a gun. It was too cowardly and clean. A female’s way out. Too much finesse. I loved a mess. When people took a life, it had to be dirty and soaking with blood. Too clean of a murder helped people forget the part they played. It let them forget and put the whole death out of their minds.

I don’t like to forget. Guilt keeps the darkness inside my chest and not out in the open.

“So your Jasmine’s twin, right?” Lucy put her hand out as if hoping to shake mine. In the background, Jazz groaned. Bile rose in my throat as the headboard’s banging picked up and smacking ensued.

I should’ve cut a line in that motherfucker’s nuts.

“Yeah, I’m Jazz’s brother.”

“Ooh, I love that name.” Lucy clapped like we were at a theater showing instead of in the hallway of a man that was accusing her and her friends of murder.

“Can I call her Jazz?” She beamed.

“Hell, no!” Viv shouted, even though no one asked her.

“You would have to ask Jazz,” I said.

Viv tossed me an evil eye. I ignored it. Lucy wasn’t the enemy. Too much conflict stormed within her eyes—gray clouds and darkness, fear and sacrifice, but no death. She’d seen it, but not wielded it herself.

Lucy isn’t a killer. If I’m wrong then I’ll stab myself.

I chuckled which attracted both of their attention. “Sorry.”

“So, I don’t trust you, Lucy.” Viv tucked a few blond strands behind her ear. “How can we change that?”

“Umm. . .What did I do to lose your trust?”

“Three girls died around you.”

“But. . .” She looked at me. I shook my head and couldn’t save her. Viv needed answers from her and she’d have to give them or continue to deal with Viv’s ignorant behind the rest of the day.
I can’t help you, Lucy.
If it were Jazz, maybe. Viv had me on an invisible leash. If she tugged, I moved in that direction.

“Did you kill those three women?” Viv asked.

“No. Never! I wouldn’t even. . .ever. . .just no. I couldn’t do that.”

“But there’s the elephant in the room,” Viv said. “You know. You’re a little weird.”

“Okay. Fine. I’m a bit odd in comparison to other women.” I loved how Lucy owned it. “I’m weird, but I’m no murderer. I’m the door matnot the foot that rubs the mud on. . .you know what I’m trying to say, right?”

Viv twisted her lips and tossed back a skeptical expression. “But—”

“Leave it, Viv. Lucy is innocent.”

Seething at me, Viv turned my way. “And why is that?”

“Because there’s no murder in her eyes.”

Lucy blushed. Viv snorted, and I just laughed.

Hey, you don’t have to believe me. I’m just saying the facts.

“Well, who do you think did it?” Viv asked me and possibly Lucy.

Before telling Viv my suspicions, I needed to see if Lucy was a true player or pawn in this situation.
I think two people killed those girls. Had to be.
Lucy may not have helped but she could’ve known certain actions would play out a certain way. I heard on the stairwell that she told everyone where Jazz and Chase were going to be the night Jazz got shot. If she knew Dawn or Wendy was the killer, then she was just as guilty to me as the actual murderer. Maybe she was the one who had the gun and gave it back to Wendy. I could see Wendy shooting someone. It was too hard to get a good look into her eyes. Even in the hallway she avoided me distracted me by doing things like winking and poking out her chest.

Shit like that made the person shadier in my book. They never let you too close, only enough to see who they wanted you to see. People like that could lie, steal, and eventually. . .kill.

But was Wendy smart enough to act on her own? Did Lucy or Dawn help? Or was it them? Maybe the shit I saw in people’s eyes was nothing more than that. Shit.

No. Hell, no. I won’t doubt myself now. Not when we’re so close to ending this.

There was a puppet master. Someone who seized opportunities and let things casually play themselves out. I stared at Lucy again. The masters were the only ones I could never see. Sure, I spotted the murder in someone’s gaze. When people took life with their bare hands, they lost a bit of humanity, a sparkle in their eyes that never returned. Lucy still had her spark. It was just dimmer than most. It could’ve been because she’d been raped as a kid by people who were supposed to love her. Or maybe that dimness proves that she didn’t murder those girls with her bare hands but she was close enough to do it.