Page 86 of Rekindled Love
It was more of a statement than a question. He looked away. I didn’t need his answer. I’d already dragged that truth out from other places.
“You messed with a girl who already felt like the town was against her. You pushed her to believe a man who loved her was her enemy. You helped keep me from my child.”
His breathing sped up. I watched his chest rise and fall.
“You can’t prove?—”
I cut him off with a look. “See, that’s another way you tried to play God. Thought nobody would ever know. Thought nobody would ever dig. You thought you were safe.”
“You holding on to old shit, Jay? Huh? You holding me hostage over some high school shit?”
I chuckled. “That’s how you gon’ play this? Yeah, that shit makes me mad, but again, you assuming I don’t know you and your very present activities. You talking crazy about my daughter’s mama to anyone who will listen? You behind the scenes fighting against the center I want to build? The negative words you dropping to people I’m building business relationships with?”
“We don’t need a bunch of armed, crazy, ex-military in the middle of our city. And if yo’ business shit is solid, you ain’t gotta worry about none of what you talking about.”
“You right. My business shit isverysolid. But you don’t get to try to fuck shit up for me for ten years with no consequences.”
He tried to shift on the bed. The tranquilizer Braeden had slipped into his drink might wear off soon, but the one that he’d injected him with, that immobilized most of his body? I had some time.
“But back to you acting like God. You remember what happens to people in the most famous story where somebody tries to take God’s spot?” I asked.
He frowned, confused. “What?”
“Lucifer. Thought he could do it better. Thought he could run things. Got cast down for his trouble,” I reminded him. “Ended up in hell. And hell, as Ola Kate Shipley reminds me, is hot.”
Deon’s face went pale. He finally understood this wasn’t me just confronting him at Dollar General. This was a whole different chapter.
“You can’t… you not gon’… Jay, come on, man,” he stammered.
He was breathing hard. Sweat broke out along his hairline. He struggled to move.
“Everyone will remember. ‘Poor Deon. He got so smashed at his Halloween party, that he passed out. Probably never even woke up to the electrical fire that destroyed his house.’ You know we talk. They’ll be planning your repast, asking who got the body, not knowing the body can probably fit in a cup.”
I laughed then. He looked terrified. Good. Tonight was the night for that, after all.
“Jabali—” he tried again.
“You like playing with fire. This time, you gon’ find out what it feel like when it’s not you holding the match. Andthe connections I got—the investigators gon’ find that it’s an accident after doing their due diligence. There won’t be a toxicology report done, if there’s anything left.”
He stared, eyes wide. Fear sat on him so heavy that it would have pinned him to the mattress if the drug hadn’t. There was a distinct hissing sound, then the smell of ammonia.
I shook my head. “Shoulda laid off the beer. Grown ass man, pissing yourself.”
I stood. Zipped my jacket. Looked around his messy room one more time.
“Well. Gotta go. My baby probably ready for round two. Happy Halloween, Deon. If you get a chance to sit down in hell, think about this. All this came from you thinking you could write other people’s stories. Mine is still unfolding. Despite what you did, we getting that happily ever after. And you? You getting a nice, ‘The End.’.”
“Jay… Jay… don’t do this, man. I’m sorry. I won’t?—”
I left him in his wet sheets, screaming promises and pleas. I strolled back to the car, my steps feeling somehow lighter. By the time I made it, I could see his curtains blazing and then the windows in other rooms lit up with the brilliance of the flames. Deon was getting a headstart on his way to hell.
And I? I was going home to my own piece of heaven.
The drive back felt lighter. The town still had a few porch lights on, plastic ghosts swaying in the breeze. Somebody was setting off fireworks that bloomed orange and gold against the dark. When I pulled through our gate, I killed the engine and sat there a second, just looking.
Ten months ago, that house had felt like a locked fortress around the girl I loved. Tonight, it was my front door. I let myself in. The foyer was dim, just a little light from the upstairs hall. The office door was still cracked. I pushed it open.
Kyleigh lay where I’d left her. Curled on the couch on her side now, my T-shirt hugging her curves, locks spilling over the pillow. The naughty maid dress hung over the back of the chair like a crime scene.
I toed off my shoes and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the couch. She didn’t wake, but her hand reached out in her sleep like her body knew I was there. I caught it. Pressed my mouth to her knuckles.
“It’s just me, baby.”
She made a soft sound and turned her face toward me. Even half-asleep, she relaxed like my voice was enough. I eased down beside her, careful not to crowd her. She scooted back on instinct until her spine met my chest. Like she’d been doing it her whole life.
I slid an arm around her waist and held on.
I had no plans of ever letting go.