Page 71 of Creole Kingpin
“It’s gonna be okay, mama. We’ll handle whatever comes together. You’re not alone in this. Not for a single fucking bit of it.”
Hearing those words washes away the dread building inside me with a flood of relief. The twisting in the pit of my stomach calms enough that I don’t feel like I’m going to vomit on the table at the visual my head keeps creating. That’s when the answer to the question Moses asked before we were interrupted by the phone call hits me. I pull back a few inches so I can see his face.
“That.That’s what I want, Moby. I want a partner. I want someone to stand by me while we weather the storms. Because my life seems to be filled with fucking storms.”
He lowers his chin to press a kiss to my forehead. “That’s exactly what you got, mama. Whatever comes, we’ll take it together. Now, let’s go handle this shit. It could be hours before the cops come. If there’s anything left you want from your place, we’re getting it now.”
Tension drains from my body at his statement. I’m not alone. I don’t have to figure this all out by myself.Icould, if I needed to. But,damn, it’s nice to know that I don’t have to.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. Let’s get going.”
Forty-Three
Moses
When we get to Magnolia’s old building, the cops are already there. I don’t take it as a good sign. With Cavender sniffing around yesterday, I would put money on the fact that he’s on alert for anything that relates to Magnolia, because he’s trying to pin the dead body on her.
When we step off the elevator onto her floor, I spot him walking out of her condo.
He locks onto me and Magnolia immediately, and the expression on his face clues me in to the fact that the man ispissed.
Magnolia stiffens when she sees him, and I pull her tighter against my side and squeeze. She’s a badass, but even the toughest people need to lean on somebody every now and again. I’m happy to be that someone for her. If she wants a partner, she’s got the right man, because there’s no way in hell I’d let her face this ever-growing mountain of shit alone. Never.
What happens to her happens to me. That’s how it’s going to be, from today until the last breaths leave our bodies.
The cop coming our way wastes no time. “Mr. Gaspard. Ms. Maison.”
“Detective Cavender.” I give him a nod as I say his name, but he just stands there, staring at both of us for almost a minute. “You got something to say to us, or can we go see what the fuck happened to my woman’s condo?”
“It’s a crime scene,” he says. “Techs are on their way. You’re not allowed inside until they’ve finished their job.”
He’s being rude and it pisses me off, considering we’re talking about Magnolia’s former home being violated.
“It’s my damn condo. I want to see what the hell happened to it,” Magnolia says, ready to pick a fight with the cop.
Instead of letting us inside, the detective pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times before holding it up in front of us. “You know who would do this to your condo?”
A tremor rips through Magnolia’s entire body, and I have to lock down the fury bursting into my system at the sight of the picture.
On the wall, written in smears of red, it reads:
I’m coming for you next
Jesus fucking Christ.
I hold Magnolia closer, rubbing up and down her arm because goose bumps just rose beneath my hand.
“Oh my God,” she whispers with another tremor racking her body. “Carl said it didn’t look like spray paint.” She looks up at me, and we lock eyes. “That doesn’t look like spray paint to me either.”
“It’s not, Ms. Maison. It’s blood.”
“Hey, man.” I pitch my voice low as I take a step toward Cavender. “You wanna take some goddamned care with your words when you’re delivering news like that? Because I got no fucking problem going to your superior to tell him what a fucking dick you’re being with a victim of a fucked-up crime.”
Something flashes across the cop’s face, and it looks a hell of a lot like embarrassment. He steps back, puts his hands on his hips and shifts on his feet, staring at the floor. “Sorry. I could’ve delivered that better.”
Magnolia straightens her shoulders under my arm. “Thank you. I accept your apology. Because whatever you think of me and the life I’ve lived, I’veneverhad someone writeanythingonany wall of mineinfucking blood.” Her eyes are the size of the Rolls’ rims and full of raw fear. Her voice wobbles as she adds, “I don’t know who the fuck would do something like this. I literally can’t think of anyone.”
