Page 70 of Creole Kingpin
He reaches out to cover my hands with his. “I know. I didn’t want to wait fifteen years to come back to you either. Trust me, that was never the plan. But ... sometimes, shit doesn’t work out the way we expect.”
The air is sweeter this morning, and somehow it’s easier to breathe. Easier to let things go too. “Coulda, woulda, shouldas will haunt us if we let them. I’m not down with that.” I meet those expressive eyes of his again and ask him point-blank what’s on my mind. “So, what the hell do we do now?”
He squeezes my fingers. “You tell me, Mags. What doyouwant?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” I ask, taking another deep breath to think about how I want to answer it. I don’t want to rush or make a mistake. I want to treat this like it’s special and fragile, because it’s new and means everything to me.
Before I can speak, my phone buzzes on my lap, and I jump.
“What?”
I lift it with my free hand and show it to him. “My condo building manager. Sorry, wasn’t expecting any calls. It can wait.”
He shakes his head. “Answer it. Could be important. You never know.”
Even though I don’t want to, I tap the screen and accept the call. “Hello?”
“Magnolia?”
“Yeah, Carl. What do you need?” The condo isn’t home anymore, but it was a good steppingstone for me, and Carl was always helpful when I could get ahold of him.
“I hate to interrupt your morning with bad news, but ...”
I sit up straighter in my chair, and Moses leans in to listen. I lower the cell and tap the button to put it on speakerphone so we can both hear whatever bad news Carl is about to deliver.
Moses reaches out, snags my free hand, and squeezes.
“But what?” I ask, giving the guy across from me a squeeze back.
“Someone broke into your condo last night. Neighbor across the hall noticed the door open when she was leaving for work. She went to close it and saw some fucked-up shit, so she called me.”
I can picture the older woman, mid-fifties, who lived across the hall, but she never made eye contact with me or said hello.
“What kind of fucked-up shit?” Maybe a sex toy fell out of a box when the movers were there. Hell, they could have left the door open too. Shit happens.
“Well, first, it’s basically empty—so I hope you already knew that.”
Jules places a cup of coffee on the table for me, and Moses quietly thanks him before he goes back inside.
“Yeah, I’m moving. I told you that. The sale is closing soon.”
“Okay, good.” Carl sounds a bit more relieved. “Well, you should be able to get it all cleaned up before that.”
“Cleaned up?” My tone jumps an octave, and Moses grips my hand tighter.
“There is ... something written on the wall. At first, I thought it was spray paint when I went up there ... but I don’t think it’s spray paint.” He hesitates for a minute and then hacks, almost like he’s gagging. “Excuse me. I ... I think it’s blood.”
A chill tears through me, but somehow I manage to say, “I’ll be right there.”
“That’d be good. Cops should be here any minute. I called them when I saw it.”
“Thanks, Carl.” The hits just keep coming, and more than ever, I’m tired of always having tosurviveevery day. Will there ever be a time when things are easy, and I don’t have to be on guard every second of every day?
“Sorry, Magnolia. I wish this was a better call.”
“Not your fault,” I say and hang up.
As soon as the call ends, Moses is on his feet, pulling me out of my chair and against him. He wraps me in those strong arms and holds me as I shake.
