Cursed (14 page)

Adrienne giggled.

“Here. Don’t call the police,” his aunt said, holding out a warm, fragrant roll on a paper plate with a fork and napkin tucked beneath. “You got that, girl?”

Adrienne nodded and accepted it. She took a huge bite and almost sighed. The rolls were fresh and homemade, the slightly sweet bread and thick icing melting in her mouth.

“Where’s mine?” Rene complained.

“With your mama. Get your ass home, Rene.”

“I’m twenty-two. A grown man. I don’t listen to my mama.”

“You’re too skinny. You want me to send the tray with you?” his aunt asked, her eyes going over Adrienne.

She shook her head and wolfed down the roll.

“I never seen a girl eat so fast,” Rene’s aunt said. “You get your ass home, too. I got a line of people to see. Take your bag.”

Adrienne swallowed the last of what was probably her dinner and hopped off the table. Grabbing her backpack, she followed Rene into the crowded waiting room of the free clinic and outside into the balmy night.

“I’ll show you how to get home,” he said unhappily.

“I have to find your brother,” she objected.

“Shut up and walk.”

Adrienne stopped, glaring at the back of his head. As if sensing she wasn’t following, he faced her. She crossed her arms.

“You are crazy, girl,” he said, approaching her. He gripped her arms hard. “You know how stupid you are? There’s evil in these streets.” Despite the gruff tone, there was concern in his voice.

“He took something that belonged to my sister. She died five years ago. It’s important,” she said stubbornly. “If I get killed walking into your alley, then fine. But I can’t let him have something that means so much to me. It ain’t even worth nothing!”

“There’s a killer loose. He targets white girls like you. You really wanna take a chance on our streets over some dead girl?” Rene gazed at her for a long minute.

“Yes,” she said without hesitating.

“Fool.” Like his brother, he spun and walked away.

“Rene!” she called. “Will you talk to him for me?”

“He won’t give it back.”

“But why? It’s mine!” Tears of frustration filled her eyes. “It’s all we have left of her. It’s not right for him to take it.”

“Right and wrong are shades of gray on the streets, girl,” he said gruffly, glancing over his shoulder. He let out a sigh. “Don’t cry.”

He reached into his pocket to pull out a wallet on a chain. Tugging something free, he held it out to her.

Adrienne hesitated then stepped forward to take the photograph. It was older, its edges worn from use. She tilted it to see it in the streetlight. It was a picture of Therese at the age of seventeen. Her arms were wrapped around a man with green-blue eyes, whose beaming smile was just as bright as Therese’s.

Adrienne found herself smiling back at the happy couple. She sniffed back her tears. Most of the pictures she had of Therese were from school. None of them were of her oldest sister smiling like this.

“You look like her,” Rene said at her silence. “Real pretty. We’re the same ages they were when they met. Jax twenty-two, your sis seventeen.”

“Why do you have this?” Adrienne asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged again. “There was a time when Jax was normal. He didn’t wear no mask. That changed when your sister died.”

“The skeleton mask? He’s worn it for five years?” she asked in disbelief.

“Except during Yamaya’s rites during the full moon. He takes it off for the ritual.”

“Yemaya,” she repeated, trying to place the name.

He rolled up his sleeve and pointed to the veve of a goddess. It contained a symbol of a fish, a moon and stars.

“The loa of rebirth and women,” he said. “Your sister came to rituals with us. She met Jax on a full moon.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said in a hushed voice. “So he did love her. It’s why he wears the mask?”

“Yeah. He did.”

They shared a reflective sadness, gazing at each other while their thoughts were on their respective loved ones. Rene had lost a piece of his brother when Therese died. He didn’t say it, and she suspected he was too tough to share his feelings, but she sensed he, too, mourned for a sibling.

“I’m sorry, Rene.”

“So am I,” he admitted. “You a good girl, Adrienne. I don’t want nothing bad to happen to you.”

She smiled, touched by his concern.

“You leave him alone now,” Rene said.

“Can you please ask him about the journal?” She tried again.

“Won’t do no good. Jax takes. He doesn’t give nothing.”

“Can I keep this?” she asked, holding up the picture.

“For now. We can share it.”

“You’re being so nice. Why?”

Rene took a step back, as if he was no longer comfortable with his guard down.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t never hurt girls and I don’t like seeing them cry. C’mon, now, keep up.”

Tucking the picture safely in the pocket of her skirt, Adrienne walked with him on the quiet streets. Shadowy figures passed them and disappeared into alleys. Not eager to end up at the clinic again, she crowded near Rene, who instinctively wrapped an arm around her. Surprised, she didn’t resist when he pulled her into his side, as if to protect her. His strong touch made her heart somersault again, the way it had when Jayden caught her in the cafeteria. It would be easy to sink into his body and let his heat and strength surround her.

Was Rene being nice or was there more to his touch?

“Why is your brother following me?” she pursued, needing a distraction from her racing blood.

“Jax does what he wants. He runs the streets. I don’t ask questions.”

Adrienne almost asked how her sweet sister ended up dating a gang leader and if that was what got her killed. She kept the question to herself, sensing her welcome was quickly wearing out with Rene. It did make her think again about the dark streak she’d sensed in Therese. Was her sister drawn to the danger of the streets? The excitement of being with someone like Jax or Renee? She saw the appeal of being with Rene. It was in his possessive touch and the sense he had a good heart beneath the tough exterior.

“He might be trying to protect you,” Rene said after a moment. “He blames hisself for what happened to Therese.”

“Why?”

“Girl, if I knew …” He gave her a warning look.

Adrienne sighed. Every day since the journal arrived, she crept a little closer to learning more about her sister.

“I miss her,” she murmured. “I just want to know what happened when she came to New Orleans.”

“I don’t remember much,” he said. “She was real pretty and real nice. She sang at the church, too.”

Adrienne smiled, comforted by the image in her mind and happy to share something with her long gone sister.

They continued walking. They weren’t far from her block, and she soon recognized her bus stop when they passed it.

“Hey.”

She turned, surprised by the familiar voice. Rene tensed instantly, reaching towards the weapons at his waist.

“Back up,” he ordered.

“It’s okay,” Adrienne said.

“You know him?”

She nodded, a smile crossing her face. Jayden stood before her, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His dark eyes went from Rene to her, and he offered a small – if tense – smile.

“Your daddy and I have been looking everywhere for you,” Jayden said.

“Really?” she perked, warmth spreading through her.

“We’re good, man,” Jayden said to Rene, gaze wary.

“Whatever,” Rene muttered, moving away. “Remember what I said, girl. Stay out of the alleys.”

“Not until your brother returns my property!” she called after him.

He flipped her off without turning.

She rolled her eyes then faced Jayden.

“I, um … what’re you doing here?” she asked.

“We have a study date. Remember?” He smiled, eyes sparkling.

Adrienne nodded, her heart somersaulting. Jayden had come to rescue her, without knowing much more about her than she was a scholarship student who sang.

He was incredible.

Jayden’s attention settled on her scraped temple. Almost absently, he reached into his pocket and pulled free a Band-Aid. He drew near her and opened it.

Adrienne froze, once again amazed by his height and strength. He was strong enough to fling a football a hundred yards with no effort, yet his touch was gentle as he pressed the Band-Aid to her temple with long, slender fingers. He smelled good, like woodsy cologne.

“I have three sisters, two little ones,” he explained. “My dad is known in the tech world as the black Steve Jobs and my stepmother is on more charity boards than I can count. They live in meetings. I pretty much raised the little ones, with the help of my stepsister. I should’ve bought stock in Band-Aids.” Despite his wry words, there was affection in his voice. He lowered his hands, his body close enough for her to feel his warmth.

“Thank you,” she murmured, face hot.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “What’re you doing out here alone?”

She sighed. “I know. Stay out of alleys.”

“I just met you. I don’t want you disappearing before we get to know each other.”

Of all the lectures she’d gotten about being careful, Jayden’s reasoning was the only one she agreed with. Her insides hummed with excitement.

“Okay?” he asked. He reached forward to tuck her hair behind one ear. The touch ratcheted up her body’s awareness to how close he was.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Let’s get back. Your daddy was a mess when I left him.” Jayden started walking.

“Oh, god. Was he nice to you?” she asked. “I’m so sorry if not. He’s um, well … a little old school.”

“He was fine after the initial … introductions.” Jayden cleared his throat.

Adrienne laughed, mortified of what her father must have said to make Jayden uncomfortable. Light glinted off the necklace he wore. Wanting to change the subject, Adrienne focused on it.

“Those almost look like dog tags. But round,” she said, squinting to see the writing.

“They are. I guess back in the day, they were round,” Jayden said, looking down. “My grandmama gave these to me. Said my great grandpapa wanted me to have them.”

A troubled look crossed his face. He shook his head and smiled once more.

“She’s into voodoo and talking to dead people or whatever,” he explained.

“Oh. You don’t believe in that stuff?” Adrienne asked cautiously.

“No way. Superstitions like that are for the ignorant,” he said firmly.

She felt her face warm for a different reason. Her mother’s family was highly superstitious, and although her father hated voodoo, he respected it. He was born and raised in New Orleans, a city where magic was integrated into the community. She, too, believed in the power of her ancestral spirits to help her, magic and gods, even if she was a practicing Baptist.

“What did the guy take from you?” Jayden asked.

“Oh, nothing really,” she murmured. “Just a journal.”

“You confronted a gang member over a journal?”

“It was my sister’s,” she answered shortly, not about to drive him away by telling him about the journal and its connection to voodoo. “She died five years ago.”

“Call me next time you want to do something like that, Adrienne,” he said firmly. “My dad is a personal friend of the Chief of Police. They’ll help you.”

“Wow,” she said, gazing up at him. “Thank you. Oh, you can call me Addy. None of my friends never call me Adrienne.”

He smiled.

They walked quietly towards her building. She sneaked a look at him, wondering what he thought about the rundown apartment building. Had he seen her father’s apartment? Would he think less of her because she was poor?

Why was he interested in the first place?

“How did you get my address?” she asked suddenly.

“Called in a favor to the student who helps with records in the admin office,” Jayden admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you forgot to provide it or were joking or …” He drifted off, waiting,

For the second time in five minutes, she was speechless. He was indirectly asking her a question he hadn’t answered.

“Adrienne? My god!” her father’s exclamation saved her from answering.

“Hi Daddy,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. Adrienne hugged him back, hearing how fast his heart was beating.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, pulling away and shaking her lightly. “There are gangs in this neighborhood. Do you have any idea how many bodies the cops find here in a week’s time?”

He was angry and scared, a combination that almost made her smile. As lost as he sometimes seemed, he really cared about her.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she murmured. “I’m okay. Promise.”

“What happened to your head?” His sharp gaze rested on the Band-Aid then went to Jayden. “Did someone hurt you?”