Read Blood Relations Online

Authors: Michelle McGriff

Blood Relations (13 page)

“Did your dad know about this?” Ovan asked Junior.
“Yeah, everybody did. Reggie was bragging about it big time. Rashawn said he could go but that he had to go with my dad and Rainey—she's me and Reggie's sister—and take me too. Reggie was hacked but said okay,” Junior explained. “I guess if it's the only way he could go he decided, whatever. Then this morning it all hit the fan. Rashawn changed up on him like the weather.”
“Do you think he would take off by himself?” Juanita asked.
“Maybe. He said dude had his ticket waiting at the station ... Oops, I wasn't supposed to tell anybody that. Damn! I mean dang! I'm always doing that.” Junior smacked his lips in irritation with himself.
“Dude?” both Ovan and Juanita asked.
“The scout. He was callin' Reg like every night. Reggie said he kinda was creepin' him out but ...”
Juanita looked at Ovan. “What are you thinking?” she asked, noting his furrowed brow.
He looked up at her. “Nothing.” It was a lie, Juanita could tell. “But I think I should get going.”
“I'm going with you,” Juanita said, sliding her feet into her flats that always sat by the door. She wore them to retrieve the paper when barefoot, like now.
“You don't even know where I'm headed,” Ovan said, reaching for the door.
“You're British Intelligence,” she glanced at Junior, “and ‘that man' is still alive. I'm going with you,” Juanita insisted, feeling the urgency coming from him and unable to fight the draw. Urgency was like a drug to her. Perhaps being the addict that she was, it was the pheromones Ovan was suddenly releasing that had her hooked on his vibe but she had to be with him right now. Something big was happening and she needed to be a part of it—besides the fact that it did involve Allen Roman being alive and quiet as kept, she too could have a real issue with that. “Stay here, Junior,” Juanita insisted, pointing her finger at him while rushing out behind Ovan. “Lock the door and don't let anybody in!” she called over her shoulder. “If you hear from Reggie—call me.”
Chapter 29
Rashawn hung up the phone after cancelling her flight. “What a pretty penny that cost,” she groaned. But it didn't matter. She had decided to drive. It wasn't as if the roads would be frozen or deadly. A little rain but she was a good driver. “Besides, I really need to think and an hour just isn't enough. I can't think around Trina,” she told her sister Rita after calling and telling her about the change of plans.
Rita was working on her husband, Terrell's, legal files. “Nobody can think around Trina,” she said with a chuckle. “Well, drive safely,” she added, sounding distracted. “So did you get your house in order?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the trip—or no trip. Chance and Juanita in your house together while you're gone ... stuff like that.”
“Chance and Juan—thanks for more things to think about—and no. I want to talk to Reggie one more time before I leave. That's another reason I canceled. Reggie was just furious this morning when he left. I've never seen him like that.”
“I'm just sayin' you can't take things for granted. You need to get your house in order, Rashawn. Chance told me about the dreams.”
“What?”
“You should have seen somebody. But then again, you should have told Reggie the truth years ago.”
“What are you talking about and why are you talking about it now?”
“Well, you gonna be thinkin' for the next several hours, I figured I'd put a few more things on your ‘thought' agenda.”
Rashawn sat quietly on her end of the phone listening to Rita shuffling papers. She waited a moment before speaking. “Perhaps you are right, but Allen Roman is dead. Juanita and Chance are history. The trip? Reggie is not going. So all of that is non-relative. Ya know, I'm just gonna leave. I'm gonna let everythin' fall where it will and take care of it when I get back. Talking to Reggie now isn't gonna make him less mad or understand my side of things any better. I'll call you along the way.” Rashawn hung up. Gathering her bag, she lugged it out to the car and threw it in the back seat. Suddenly a feeling of foreboding came over her. She nearly swooned. She took a deep breath. It had been years since she'd had a panic attack but this feeling was reminiscent of the big ones she used to have—back when the rape was new and the pain was fresh. She could barely breathe sometimes. Even when she left to Atlanta to have Reggie without her family knowing the truth—she would have huge anxiety attacks that left her paralyzed with fear. She was unable to read her mail for fear he was sending secret messages in her bills. She was crazy with the paranoia. Upon coming back—feeling healed after nearly two years—within the week it all started again. That's when Roman started drugging her and violating her again. Life was hell for so long, it was hard to believe that it was all fifteen years ago.
Digging around in her purse, Rashawn didn't notice Reggie's BlackBerry was missing. She only noticed her own and grabbed it tightly, willing Chance to call her—first. Again her pride was fighting her and she refused to call him. He was being mean and uncaring. His funky attitude had angered everyone in the house—well—it had angered her! Her anger momentarily beat out the feeling of panic but as she glanced around again, she was hit with the old feelings.
Once, her sister Ta'Rae, had told her that during the time of her husband's death, when she was the most frightened she would call on their mother and “although it was hard to believe” their dead mother came to her aid, calming her spirit. Rashawn had never tried it, but was hard pressed not to call on the name of Zenobia Ams right now. That's just how scared she was suddenly. “Stop it,” she told herself, opening the car door, tossing in the phone and climbing behind the wheel.
“Still so deliberate you are,” Roman said, watching her, noticing her hesitation to get in the car. She was still beautiful—to a fault. She had ruined his entire study—and maybe his life—a little bit. “Making me fall in love with you that way—you broke my heart, if that's possible,” he snickered. Drugging her just made it easier to have her all to himself—compliant and calm. She had always been such a difficult woman—headstrong and independent. The drug broke her down completely. She became passive and easy to manage “... and I can tell that's all changed.” He smirked, watching her pull out of the driveway. He'd watched her family leave earlier. It didn't look like too loving a scene. That husband of hers and her other two children. “Nice looking boy—musta taken after you like Reggie did. It's clear that girl got all Chance had to offer,” Roman mumbled while slowly pulling off behind her. Rashawn had cost him so much and despite how much he loved her, he hated her with the same amount of passion. He had promised to pay her back one day for her betrayal he just didn't quite know how. Killing her hadn't been on his agenda at first, but as the years went by and his health went south, he knew it would come to this. There was no way she would just give him Reggie. “Not even to keep me alive—she's just that hateful!” he growled, again justifying his feelings and intentions. “So, yeah ... You're gonna get paid back for all you have done and all I'm not going to give you a chance to do.” She entered the freeway going south. He followed her.
Chapter 30
Chance pulled into the high school parking lot. He halfway thought maybe Reggie might have come to school on his own. He just needed to talk to him. No more consulting with Rashawn on everything. He needed to talk to Reggie about who his father was and why things were going the way they were right now. “Rashawn should have told him years ago. Roman can't hurt him—but not knowing that Roman was his father can. And for all I know, Roman could be alive. The guy is like evil walking. I need to find Reggie, and then find out who the hell that cat was. Hell, for all I know Juanita could be in danger too!”
Stepping out of his car, several young girls noticed him. “Hi, Mr. Davis.”
“Hey there, have any of you seen Reggie today?”
“No, I was just going to ask you the same thing,” the tallest, prettiest of the girls said, swinging her long braids over her shoulder.
“Oh, okay thanks,” Chance answered, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice. He headed to the office to check with the attendance clerk.
“No, he's been marked absent in his first and second periods, Mr. Davis.”
“Dammit,” Chance mumbled under his breath. “What about his friend, Francisco.”
“Mr. Davis, Francisco is here.” She flipped through the logs. “Jackson is here, too.”
She noticed his growing despair. “Problem?”
“Yes, and I need you to please call my cell number if he shows up today ... please,” Chance said, rushing out. Climbing behind the wheel, Chance rushed to several different BART stations, just in case he might see Reggie sitting here—trying to get somewhere. His mind was spinning, only momentarily landing on the information Ovan had given him. “Allen Roman alive?” he said aloud, instantly feeling the sharp pain in his side—the pain caused by Doc when kicked his ribs, breaking them. Chance blinked hard hoping to erase the pictures that now began to flash before him mercilessly. The concrete rushing toward his face, the broom he attempted to protect himself with, used as a weapon—a sword. He'd hit that big man—Doc—fifteen, twenty times, to no avail. He just kept coming! Roman had created a monster in Doc. He'd taken a simple man—maybe even a decent man, Blain Tollome and changed him into a drug addicted maniac everyone called Doc—a crazed killer that he could control through hypnotic suggestion. No one really knew why Doc became so obsessed with Rashawn. Only once or twice Rashawn talked about the night she killed Doc. The trial had been hell, and afterward she never really wanted to talk about it, but when she did, she told Chance that Doc had told her he loved her. Chance could only think that despite the control that Roman had on his mind, Doc's heart belonged to Rashawn and that he had stalked her in his efforts to protect her from Allen Roman. That was the part that tore Rashawn up worst of all.
True, Doc had done some terrible things around Moorman campus in his involvement with the deadly Get Ass drug, but as Rashawn had said after it was all over, “I killed an innocent man. He'd never done anything to me. Those bullets belonged to Allen Roman.”
Horns honked as Chance sped through the red light. “God! Get your head back here, Chance!” he told himself, catching his heart as it nearly jumped from his body upon realizing he'd nearly been hit by an oncoming car.
Chance had a lot of baggage. He realized that now. He'd buried his pain in order to deal with Rashawn's. He'd buried his shame in order to deal with Juanita's. But the time had come and now he needed to deal with what he felt—but perhaps this too would wait until later. Right now, he had to find Reggie. Stroking his cell phone, he contemplated calling Rashawn. Surely she was at the airport already. Flying wasn't her favorite thing to do and without a doubt, this would upset her even more. What could she do to fix any of it anyway? Okay, so Roman was alive, it didn't mean he was anywhere near them. He'd done so much to so many people, why would Reggie and Rashawn be the focus of his attention after all this time? “But then, Chance, he is crazy, you know this, right? And if he's here in this city as that guy insinuated—what else is he here for!” Glancing at his watch, Chance realized then he been roaming the streets for over an hour. He headed back to Juanita's. When he arrived no one was home.
Chapter 31
Rashawn had barely cleared the city when she noticed her gas gauge and pulled into the closest gas station to refuel. She hated pumping her own gas. Huffing just a bit, she stepped from the car and pulled out her credit card to slide it into the machine. Again she was hit with the feeling of foreboding, coupled with one of being watched. She glanced around. The black BMW moved slowly through the station. The windows were dark. If she was paranoid, she'd swear the car was circling her. She felt as if it was. Turning her head to and fro, she strained to see the driver but couldn't. She began to pump her gas, watching the car out of the corner of her eye as it pulled over to a parking stall—as if waiting for her to finish up.
Quickly, she climbed in behind the wheel and again thought about calling Chance. “You're being silly,” she sighed. “This isn't about Chance. This is about Reggie. Start at the source, Rashawn.” Dialing Reggie's phone instead, she suddenly realized that she had it in her purse—or so she thought. Digging around for it she realized it wasn't there. “Shoot, I musta left it in my pocket or in the kitchen ... dangit.” She rubbed her head. Looking around she had to make a decision. She was already pretty far from home but had many miles between there and Arizona. She called Trina only to get her machine.
“You've reached national best-selling author Trina Ams, but then again, if you have this number you must already know that, so what choo want?” the recording said, followed by laughter.
“Trina, this is Shawn, look, I'm having some issues with Reggie—go figure. So, I'm gonna try to deal with them first and then I'ma drive out. So don't expect me until morning. I won't be late for the thing—okay. So just wait for me,” Rashawn said before hanging up.
She felt a little better just having said that out loud. Now she could head back to the house and deal with reality before heading off to the land of fiction.

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