Deep Page 8

  Yes, the inn was her greatest accomplishment. It once belonged to her stepmother’s father, but when she died and her children weren’t there to make a claim to it she was the only one there to receive the keys. She turned it into something better than anyone ever imagined and made sure her room was the equivalent of a queen’s room in medieval times, complete all the way down to the weapons hanging from the walls and a royal throne.

  But she didn’t stop there. She had a huge building but nobody to live there with her. She began recruiting young women who reminded her of herself. They had no one to turn to, and nowhere to go. They were all weak when she found them and she built them up, only so she could break them down and build them up again. She saved them all and in return they pledged their lives to her and her sick, twisted ways. She controlled them. She was their god. All of their pictures hung on a wall in her room, staring down lovingly at her bed. Now she could wake up feeling loved every day.

  After she showered, she draped her body in silk and prepared to get in bed. She clapped her hands twice so that the lights would dim but not shut all the way off. Lying back she tried to get comfortable in her soft bed but right before she closed her eyes she heard a soft knocking at her door. With a raised brow she stood back up, feeling the softness of her red carpet on her toes, and walked to the door.

  “Anna? What is it that you want?”

  Anna tightened her hand around the wad of cash in her hand, daring not to drop a single bill to the ground. She hadn’t been invited inside of the room so she just extended her hand.

  “My night’s earnings, Madame.”

  Madame’s piercing brown eyes narrowed at Anna, making her feel like she was nothing more than the lint floating around in the air. Madame was dressed in her nightclothes and Anna hoped she wouldn’t be punished for interrupting her sleep. Hopefully, the money would be enough to save her from a lashing. She held her breath and focused her eyes on the ground until she felt Madame remove the money from her hand.

  “Thank you,” Madame said and turned her back on Anna to take the money to her vanity dresser. She heard Anna make a move to leave, but she had one more question to ask. “Anna, why did Dot come to see you tonight? It was very unusual, especially since he didn’t call before he came. Did he . . . contact you somehow?”

  Anna feared that Madame might have thought that she and Dot had a conversation outside of the inn, and she swallowed hard. The last thing she needed was for the person who held her life in her hands to think she was sneaking around behind her back.

  She shook her head feverishly. “No, Madame. I would never sneak to use the phone without permission.” Anna was so flustered she commenced blabbering about her whole night. Madame’s back was still toward her and she feared what might happen when she turned around. “He said he came to see me tonight because he was distraught. He was telling me about somebody named Quinton and how he’s responsible for his cousin’s murder.”

  Madame turned around and glared so murderously at Anna that she flinched and dropped to her knees.

  “I’m sorry, Madame! I shouldn’t be talking. I’m sorry!” Anna covered her head with her hands and arms.

  Madame stared at the girl shaking literally at her feet, but it felt as if she was looking through her.

  No. It can’t be after all these years.

  “You are dismissed,” she whispered. “Leave now!”

  Anna didn’t need to be told again. She stood up and wrapped the robe she was wearing tighter around her waist before running, literally, away.

  Madame’s breath was rigid and she put a hand to her chest. So many memories were coming back to her. Memories that made her think of her one failure. The one failure that she thought of every day, and the reason why her grip on her girls was so strong. Disloyalty had caused her to lose the opportunity of a lifetime.

  She went to lie back down without even bothering to count the money Anna gave her. It proved pointless because Anna’s voice kept playing through her head. After about five minutes Madame knew that she wasn’t going to get any sleep with an unsettled mind. She stood and prepared to go pay one of her guests a visit. For his sake, he better hope that what he said was just an innocent coincidence.

  Chapter 7

  The worst feeling in the world is having to choose between myself and somebody I love. It’s like if I choose them, I’m going to be unhappy every day of my life. But if I choose me it feels like I’m not being loyal to somebody I know would go to hell and back for me.

  Rhonnie sighed and set her journal to the side of her, placing the pen on top. She was a fighter so she didn’t let the slight ache in her arm bother her when she placed her hand back in her lap. For the most part the gunshot wound had healed up pretty nicely. If it hadn’t been for her dad’s quick thinking she would have bled out in the back seat. Painfully, but successfully, he was able to get the bullet out without causing any further damage. The patch work he did was also pretty decent; it lasted until they got back to Nebraska and she was able to receive proper medical attention.

  Always the hardheaded one out of the two sisters, Rhonnie of course didn’t listen to the discharge instructions that were sent home with her. She was too independent to have to depend on anyone to do anything for her. After the second week of being in a sling and getting pissed off at the fact that she was too limited, she figured it was time to put her arm back to use. It hurt like hell but she started off easy with simple stretches. She then eased herself into lifting weights until finally her arm was strong enough to be used without a sling.

  Being shot made her realize that she had taken many things in life for granted. Being able to do things like write in her journal had become something to be thankful for. Simply because if that shooter’s aim had been on point that day, her shoulder could have easily been her heart. She realized then, in the moment she was flying backward with her eyes on the clouds, that she wasn’t ready to die. What had she really seen in life, or done, that she really wanted to? When she first agreed to do what her father had asked of them years ago, it was because she could see past it. They would get in, make some money, and get out. Now it was like she couldn’t make it to the other side.

  Quinton had indeed saved his daughter’s life, but he brought her back with a different mindset. She knew what a great dad Quinton was, and she knew that she was a great asset to him; but she was ready to be a great asset to herself. And hopefully he understood. She sighed and shook her head because putting her thoughts on paper was usually enough; this time it wasn’t. The only thing that would make her feel better would be to call him and tell him how she felt. She had enough money saved up to walk away from that life and figure out what she really wanted to do. It was time to pursue other things.

  She picked up her phone to call him but surprisingly she saw the word Dad along with the picture for his contact already displaying on her screen.

  “Hello?”

  * * *

  Brayland had been given the job to look after Rhonnie and Ahli, but the key was to not let them know he was there. After arriving in Omaha, Nebraska, Quinton surprised Brayland by giving him $25,000 and his Chevy Avalanche.

  “Now, you can either take this money and run with it, or you can stay here and work for more,” Quinton had told him.

  The money was greatly appreciated but Brayland knew that in two months it would be gone. He was used to living a lifestyle where money was something that always came in. It would be hard to break the bad habits he had picked up in the last few years. When he went to the mall he usually left with more than $10,000 worth of things. He knew that it would be in his best interest to stay where he could make some change, at least until he moved on to bigger and better things.

  His car was parked about fifty feet from where the pearl white Lexus was parked outside of the Oakview mall. He had been waiting almost an hour for Ahli to return to it, and she must have been on a mission. She stepped out of the mall with what looked like ten bags. In order to get that kind
of shopping done in under an hour she had to know exactly what she was going in there to get.

  Brayland smirked to himself unknowingly, because everything about Ahli was calculated. She was always on point with everything she did and it intrigued him. That, along with the fact that she was sexy and thick as hell. Those were the main things that made it hard for him to stay away. When she opened her mouth to speak he had to tell his dick to stay down, boy. She had a voice that would do numbers on a sex hotline. Nothing that came out of her mouth was worthless to listen to. If he had to be completely honest he would come upfront and say that the only reason he had chosen to stay back was because of her. After meeting her and seeing the type of things she did, he had to stick around. If anything happened to her it wouldn’t be under his watch.

  The smile left his face as soon as he realized it was there. He waited for Ahli to throw her bags into her back seat and get into the front seat before he started his own engine. For a truck, the engine purred softly. He waited to pull off until Ahli had pulled far enough ahead of him that the tail wouldn’t be obvious. When she left the mall’s parking lot he already knew where she was going just because she turned right instead of left. She thought it was her own secret place, but little did she know Quinton knew all about the apartment that she kept a secret from everyone, including Rhonnie. However, Quinton felt it was best to at least let her think she had the place all to herself.

  He followed her until finally they reached the destination, where she pulled into her garage and he parked in a vacant parking spot. He watched her like a lion watches its prey and his eyes couldn’t help but caress the way her body filled out her Chanel short sweat suit. His eyes lingered on her cleavage and he was mesmerized by the way her breasts bounced with every step that she took.

  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to see her once she made it through the secured entry of her apartment complex, Brayland hopped out of his car. She had already made it into the building by the time he hit the entrance but, lucky for him, just as he approached the door a couple was making their way out.

  “There you go, my man,” the man said and held the door open for Brayland.

  “Good looking,” Brayland said and smiled kindly at them so that he didn’t look too suspicious.

  “No problem!” the man said, grabbing his brunette girlfriend’s hand and making his exit with her.

  It was the first time Brayland had actually been inside of the building, so he didn’t actually know which way to go. Usually he just stayed in the car for a little while until it was time for him to leave and check on Rhonnie. This time, though, he knew that Rhonnie was safe and sound back at the house, so he had a little more time on his hands.

  He didn’t want to guess on the doors so instead he followed the scent of the Dolce & Gabbana perfume that was lingering in the air. Doing that led him to an apartment door on the third floor where the scent was the strongest. He reached and grabbed the golden doorknob, twisted it easily, and pushed the black door open.

  “‘I like the way you move and the way you do your thing.’”

  He heard the sounds of a soft, pretty voice singing a song that he was too familiar with. He followed the voice to the kitchen of the apartment. There he saw the shopping bags thrown on top of the dining room table and Ahli bent down in the kitchen, putting something under the sink.

  “I always liked the theme song to Cousin Skeeter too,” he said loud enough to get Ahli’s attention.

  Startled, Ahli stood straight up and whipped around, wishing that her purse weren’t so far away from her. Seeing that it was only Brayland, her guard went down slightly. She nonchalantly looked him up and down, taking in his fly-boy image. “What are you doing here, Brayland?”

  “You know you really shouldn’t leave your door open like that. Anybody could come up in here.”

  “You mean like you? And how did you know how to find me anyway?”

  “Uhh . . .” Brayland fumbled with an answer, because no matter what he said it would blow his cover.

  “Mm-hmm, just like I thought,” Ahli said, sighing and rolling her eyes. “My dad got you watching Rhonnie and me, huh? Figures. He don’t know how to just let us be sometimes!”

  “He just being a man and doing what a dad does,” Brayland said, trying to come to Quinton’s defense. “I never had a dad to do shit for me; be thankful.”

  “I am thankful,” Ahli said. “But I’m also grown and should be able to wipe my ass without a pair of eyes on me.”

  “Ay.” Brayland threw his hands up. “I might follow you around, but I don’t want to see nothing that comes out of your shit chute.”

  A laugh weaseled its way through Ahli’s lips and it caught her off guard. She tried to cover her mouth with her hand but it was too late; she was cracking up by then. “I hate you,” she said and playfully swatted his arm.

  “No, you don’t,” Brayland said and leaned against a cabinet in the kitchen. “Especially not once you get to know me.”

  Ahli rolled her eyes at him again and turned her nose up. “We can be cool,” she said, using her foot to close the cupboard behind her. “But I don’t think I would ever know you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I wouldn’t allow myself to.”

  “Why not? I’m a good dude.”

  “I never said you weren’t.”

  “Aw, I get it.” Brayland took a few steps closer to Ahli and put two fingers to his chin. “Let me read you right quick. Hmmm, let’s see. You fell in love awhile back with a nigga you thought you would be with forever. It didn’t work out. You got your heart broke. What? He stopped calling or something? You realized he never really loved you the way he said he did?”

  Ahli clenched her jaw and swallowed. Her brown eyes traced Brayland’s face, and she instantly got agitated at the smug smirk on his face. She was trying to figure out what he thought was so funny.

  “If somebody you loved tried to make you choose between them and more people you loved, what would you do? That is the hardest decision to ever have to make, but when I did make the decision he couldn’t understand it. So yes, he did stop calling. And yes, I did realize that he never really loved me the way he said he did. But that has nothing to do with why I won’t allow myself to really know you.”

  Her response was so terse that it took Brayland completely left. He stood before her awkwardly, not knowing what to say, so he just dropped the subject. Out of the two sisters it was apparent that Ahli was the more guarded. She never said too much, just enough to make a point. For the most part she was able to keep Rhonnie in check and make sure that everything was perfect for her father’s business. Still, there was something about her that made him want to crack the surface. He had learned a long time ago that nothing was as it seemed. And even though Ahli seemed like a put-together woman, he wanted to know what the ingredients to the glue were that held everything together.

  “I guess the cat is out of the bag, huh?” Brayland said.

  “Huh?”

  “Your secret crib.” He moved his hands in a motion that let Ahli know that he was talking about her apartment.

  He walked into the living room like he owned the place and Ahli smirked at his boldness. She followed him and shrugged her shoulders, looking around her spacious two-bedroom apartment. The walls were so white that when the sun touched them they looked golden. Her carpets were tan and were so soft walking on them could be mistaken for walking on clouds. Her furniture was subtle, but sexy. She had a deep red wine couch and love seat, with a large brown mahogany coffee table on top of an eccentric African rug. On the walls hung many different paintings, all with people of African descent in different scenes. Where one would assume that a TV would be hanging on the wall, there was a piano instead. On top of the piano there was incense burning, and the blinds to the patio were wide open. The whole room always gave her a positive vibe and brought good thoughts to her mind. It was what she called her “Room of Peace.”

  “I figured that if he
didn’t know about it by now, he would find out eventually. He has never let Rhonnie and me stray too far from home. This is my spot but I don’t even live here. Crazy, right?”

  “A little bit,” Brayland said, walking around the living room and eyeing all of the paintings. The room was giving him the most soothing vibe he had ever felt in his entire life. When he reached the piano he ran his fingers along the top of it before he opened it up and sat down on the stool.

  “Don’t . . .” Ahli tried to stop him from touching her mother’s old piano but she stopped at the sound of the first keystroke.

  Brayland’s fingers graced the piano almost like they were one with the keys. Soon the whole apartment was filled with the sweet melody from the sheet of music propped up in front of him. He glanced up at it every so often, and it shocked her how beautifully he played. What blew her away and made her take a seat was when the man before her started singing the lyrics to Lauryn Hill’s song “Ex-Factor” in a twisted, but beautiful, mash up.

  “‘See no one loves you more than me/And no one ever will/No matter how I think we grow/You always seem to let me know/It ain’t workin’.’”

  “‘It ain’t workin’.’” Ahli closed her eyes as she sang the adlibs to the song, much like she used to do with her mother.

  “‘And when I try to walk away . . .’”

  “‘You’d hurt yourself to make me stay . . .’”

  “‘This is crazy,’” they finished in unison.

  Brayland stopped playing and smiled at his fingers. It had been awhile since he played the piano. He had grown up and become accustomed to playing with guns.

  “Who taught you how to play and sing like that?”

  “Nobody,” Brayland said, closing the piano and standing.

  “Somebody had to.” Ahli studied his face and took notice of how he was trying to make a quick getaway. “Need I remind you that you barged into my shit without being invited and put your raggedy hands on my mother’s piano? The least you can do is answer my question.”