(Watch Me) Body You (Run This Town Book 2) Page 20

  “Is that what this extreme temper tantrum is about?” Is rolled his eyes. “You seem to forget who I am. First and foremost, I'm a businessman. Anyone who’s a threat to my money is a threat to me. That includes your son. Or you.”

  The door opened and Tek peered in. “Anything?”

  “I want the names of everyone who helped you pull of your big plan,” Is told Cutty.

  Curled in on himself, Cutty shook his head. “I did it all myself.”

  Is sighed. “You know, despite our current situation, I don’t really care for the bloody aspect of my job. I can take or leave it, no problem.” He squatted and wrapped Cutty’s locks around his palm, yanking on them. Cutty’s head snapped back. “But just so you understand, I’m gonna walk out that door, but I’ll be back. Might be in an hour or a week, and if you haven’t bled out by then, I expect a complete list of your accomplices. Otherwise I’m going after your family and I’m wiping out the entire fucking line then I’m coming for you, and Cutty,” Is held his head up so their gazes could meet. “You don’t want me to come for you.”

  He thrust the limp man away and walked out, bloody knife in hand. Tek watched him.

  “You think he had help?”

  “I know he had help.” Is wiped the knife on his dark jeans. He had to remember to burn them when he got home. “Cutty didn’t do all this on his own. He planned and schemed and that shit took brains, to have me and Vega go up against each other. I’m willing to bet he was behind Mackie’s death which sent me gunning for Vega in the first fucking place.”

  Damn plan would have been fucking genius if done right and Is didn’t for a second think Cutty was the mastermind.

  “You think his son is behind it.”

  That was exactly what Is was thinking. “Yep.” As if on cue, his phone rang. He answered. “Dar, speak to me.”

  “All done, just waiting for some paperwork and we’ll be set,” his lawyer Daryl King said. They’d learned that Jamal, Cutty’s son, had been picked up on an outstanding warrant the day before. Is sent Dar to get him sprung. Couldn’t very well kill the son of a bitch while he was a guest of the NYPD, could he?

  Well, technically, he could, but this way was much more fun.

  Is motioned to Tek and began walking toward the exit. “We’ll meet you in thirty.”

  The streets outside the Brooklyn Courthouse were deserted that time of night. Tek kept them to the shadows, and the two of them sat silently waiting. Then Dar exited the building and behind him his new client. Dar motioned and they both headed for Is and Tek.

  Dar got in the back next to Is and Jamal got up front with Tek. Is waited until Tek pulled off before he spoke.

  “Jamal, is it?”

  Cutty’s son looked over his shoulder and froze when he spotted Is. The surprised fear on his face, now that was some good stuff.

  “Israel Storm.” Jamal’s expression went blank quickly. “Finally caught on, eh?”

  Big mouth, this one. Tone said he didn’t give a damn. Guts, too, to go in with his father on this plan of theirs. Is could admire that.

  “Good to see you in such fine spirits,” he said mildly. “Too bad your pops can’t say the same.”

  Panic flared in Jamal’s eyes then once again quickly disappeared. “My father has nothing to do with it. It’s all me. If you hurt him—”

  Is laughed. Tek chuckled.

  Damn. This one with the tough talk and the big mouth. A brave son of a bitch. Jamal grabbed for the door handle, but Tek was quicker. A punch to the gut had Jamal doubling over.

  “If I hurt him, what?” Is shook his head. “I’mma tell you like I told your pops. I want answers. Your family’s good health completely depends on your compliance. You’re man enough to plot against me and set that shit in motion then you should be man enough to cop to it, yeah? And take your punishment, because trust me, I’ve got plans.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Trust me, little boy, you don’t want none of this.”

  Tek pulled up in front of a bus stop.

  “Dar, this is where you get off.” Is motioned to Jamal. “I appreciate the help.”

  Dar nodded. “Anytime.” Then he grabbed his briefcase and hopped out, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

  Tek engaged the automatic locks and drove off. Is reached forward and grabbed Jamal by the jaw, squeezing tight when panic flared bright in his eyes.

  “I’m taking you to see your dad, Jamal. Let’s see which one of you talks first.”

  The younger man didn’t speak out loud, but his eyes spoke of all the violent things he wanted to do to Is. He looked forward to it. Biological or not, he was never more Jacqueline Jermaine’s son as he was in that moment. In the competition between nature and nurture the latter won out every time.

  His cell went off as Tek pulled up back in front of the building in Coney Island. He held up a finger when he saw it was his mother’s doctor calling.

  “Dr. Kirby.”

  “Mr. Jermaine, I—” The man sighed, frustration and something else in his voice. “I’m afraid we have a situation.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  The man hesitated then asked, “How soon can you get here?”

  Is glanced over at the clock on the dash. The hospital was in the city and it was almost eight-thirty on a Wednesday night. “An hour.”

  * * * *

  “We had a breach.” Dr. Kirby didn’t waste time. The second Is was buzzed in through the double doors, the man was there, looking haggard and fearful.

  Is stopped in his tracks. “What kind of breach?” And how did that involve him?

  The doctor guided Is to his office and shut the door, quickly making his way to his desk and the computer that sat there. He motioned to Is as he tapped some keys and sat back, making space for Is.

  “We didn’t know about this until this morning, but apparently it happened a few days ago.” The time stamp at the bottom of the black and white footage said as much.

  Is squinted. All he saw was a janitor pulling a trolley into different rooms, looked like he was emptying the individual garbage bins. “I don’t— What am I supposed to be seeing?”

  “Just wait.”

  So he did, leaning over Dr. Kirby’s desk, frowning at the video.

  The janitor stopped at a closed door. The quality was good enough for Is to make out the name and number on the door.

  Jacqueline’s room.

  He used the key on his belt to get in and the angle of the camera switched to inside the room. A still figure was on the bed, his mother, her face turned away. She was likely sleeping. He watched, hands fisted as the janitor crept over to the bed and bent, touching his mother’s face. She immediately lifted her head.

  The man’s mouth moved.

  “Why isn’t there audio on this?”

  “We only have audio on the cameras out in the public areas,” the doctor said. “And I doubt if we’d had audio it would have picked up anything he said.”

  The man touched her hand, looked as if he was shaking it, then he turned abruptly and walked away.

  “Who is—” But the guy lifted his head once he stepped out of Jacqueline’s room, and Is caught a glimpse of his profile. “Son of a bitch.”

  Jamal, Cutty’s son.

  “He didn’t do this with anyone else and she was fine,” the doctor said. “That’s why I didn’t report it. I figured this had something to do with you. Who you are.”

  Who he was. “I need to see her.”

  “Of course.” The doctor jumped up and led him out the office. Is followed, trying to figure out why Cutty’s son would be breaking in to a psychiatric hospital to visit a woman he clearly didn’t know.

  This went way deeper than he’d first thought. And Cutty and his son had much to answer for.

  “Jacqueline.”

  His mother was in the playroom with the other patients, playing cards with a small group while the TV high up on the wall played a popular game show. She looked up whe
n the doctor called her name. Her gaze swung to Is, but she didn’t get up.

  “Israel.” She continued playing. “Back so soon? Isn’t it way past visiting hours?”

  “I need to talk to you,” he said softly. Her hair was different, done up in a curly style that made all the gray look as if they’d been added strategically. “Your hair looks nice.”

  She smiled at him then. “I did it myself.” She patted her head. “You know I used to be a big time hair stylist back in the day. Couldn’t tell me nothing ’bout hair, baby. I’m good.”

  And there she was. “I know.” He smiled, but he felt none of it. “Can you come for a second?”

  “For you?” She pushed her chair back and walked toward him as her fellow patients watched them with open and concentrated curiosity. “For you I have all the seconds.”

  Words like those made him think she really cared, that she knew her own mind. That was a dangerous thought to court.

  When Jacqueline stood next to him and the doctor, Is asked, “A few nights ago you had a visitor, do you remember that?”

  She glared at him. “Of course, I remember, Israel. I’m not senile.”

  Yeah, okay. “Do you know who he was, or what he wanted?”

  “I already told those idiots, I have no idea who he is.” She twisted one of her curls around a finger and shifted from one foot to the other. “You really like mommy’s hair? I did it just for you.”

  “Did he tell you what he wanted?” But right then her words registered and he grabbed her shoulder. “How did you know I would be coming here today?”

  “Mr. Jermaine.” Doctor Kirby’s warning didn’t even make Is hesitate.

  “Don’t call him that,” Jacqueline shrieked. “I won’t warn you again.”

  “I got this, doc.” Is cupped his mother’s jaw and stared into her eyes. “Look at me. I’m your son. I belong to you.” Fucking ash on his tongue, burning his mouth, but he saw how those words made her eyes gleam. “Tell me.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly and looked around. “He just said that his father knew me and wanted to say hello, make sure I was doing okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Told him I was doing just fine, because my son made sure of it.” Her face softened considerably. “Don’t you, baby?” Sidling closer to him, she pressed her chest to his. “Don’t you, baby?”

  Is caught her wrists and stepped back. He had no idea if she was telling the truth or not. But he’d find out. Soon as he got back to Brooklyn he’d find out what the hell game Cutty was playing at.

  “I gotta go.” He turned away, but Jacqueline grabbed the back of his jacket, halting his steps. “What?” he flung the question over his shoulder.

  “Do you remember how you tried to save me, Israel?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Her smile was so wide, so pure, for a second he allowed it to blind him to her darkness, allowed himself to see only the good stuff. The happy stuff. Then she spoke. “I always wanted that, you know. A man to save me, to wrap me up in his big strong arms.”

  She hugged herself, eyes closed, and rocked side to side, tone melodic. Almost child-like. “He’d promise to keep me safe, promise that no matter what, nothing would ever hurt me. Nothing could ever touch me with him at my side.” Her lashes lifted and she stared at him. “You did that at ten years old, baby. I chose a special one. I wonder,” she bit her bottom lip, a teasing, playful act. “I wonder what my baby can do today with all those muscles and his guns and his…” She winked. “Influence.”

  Jesus. What was she even going on about now? “I was ten, Jacqueline. I didn’t know any better.”

  She shivered. “I know. Isn’t that great? You acted on instinct to protect me. I know you’ll always do it. I’m your mother, you see. And you,” she smoothed a hand down his chest. Is wanted to dodge that caress. “You’re my son.” She dropped her hand and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon, okay, baby?” It wasn’t really a question, more a statement, but Is just yanked her hand away and kept it moving.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You okay?” Tek straightened from his post outside the room where they were holding Cutty and his son.

  Is didn’t speak, he didn’t pause.

  “Is?”

  He pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside the dark room. The heat was at full blast, and the place smelled of blood, sweat and fire. The two men were seated on the exposed floor, tied to each other, positioned back to back. Is pulled his gun and before they even had a chance to look up he was shooting.

  He caught Jamal in the neck, one bullet lodging right there. The younger man lurched to the side and blood gurgled.

  “Jam—”

  He silenced Cutty’s shout with one to the chest. Without paying attention to the blood, Is squatted in front of them. “It’s been an enlightening evening, gentlemen.” He slowed his words, breathed evenly when he wanted to go fucking berserk on those sons of bitches. Gloved palm flat against the bullet in Cutty’s chest, he pressed on it. “I am pissed, Cutty. You feel me? Pissed.”

  Cutty’s chest rose and fell, rapid, under his touch. Next to them, Jamal had listed to the left and was making wet, gasping sounds. Fighting for breath.

  “Hear that?” Is cupped his free hand to his ear. “That’s your son, Cutty. Ah yuh pickney dat. ’Im ah fight fi ’im life.” He put the still-hot gun muzzle to Jamal’s neck, to his skin, right on the bullet hole and thrust into the wound. “He’s gonna lose it,” Is confessed. “He’s gonna die and you’re gonna watch.”

  Cutty’s eyes were glazed, mouth agape as he glared at Is. “D-Don’t.”

  “Don’t hurt him?” Is shook his head in disapproval. “You should have fucking known better, Cutty. This is me we’re talking about.” He cut the bonds securing father to son and pulled Cutty to him by his hair. Jamal collapsed to the floor. “Have you learned nothing? Have you learned nothing from me, Cutty?”

  “You can’t threaten me and get—” Cutty’s breath cut off, and his mouth opened and closed a few time before he spoke again. “And get away with it.”

  “But I did. That’s why you’re you and I’m me. The shit I get away with, old man, you could never conceive of. This isn’t about that though, is it? Because Mackie was dead long before I threatened your precious Jamal, and we both know Vega and his people had nothing to do with it.”

  Is had to smile. He flung away the gun and stood, stripping down to his black briefs. “You want what’s mine, old man. You got greedy, got grabby. Figured you could just take it.” He chuckled. “My shoes aren’t that easy to fill and I’m not that fucking easy to kill.”

  Cutty closed his eyes, head falling back.

  “You sent your son to my mother.” Is shook his head. “Bold move, Cutty. Bold. Brave.”

  Jamal’s body started twitching, the wet, desperate sounds coming farther and farther apart. Is went to him.

  “N-No. Take me.” Cutty lifted a hand, but it fell right back down to his side. He clawed at the floor. “Take me.”

  “Oh, I’m gonna take you. Don’t worry.” Is held up the knife he’d used to stab Cutty earlier. “You’ll just have to wait your turn while I put this one out of his misery.” He grabbed Jamal’s head, made him face Is. His eyes were closed, pulse getting weaker and weaker as he bled. One of his legs kicked out, but other than that, nothing.

  Is sliced his throat, ear to ear, deep and wide. Blood sprayed, on him, all over him. His stomach cramped and he dropped the lifeless body onto the cold floor. He got to his feet, skin crawling as the blood trickled down his chest. He didn’t look.

  He couldn’t.

  Already he wanted to throw up.

  Cutty was crying, sliding across the floor on his stomach to get to his son. “Jamal. Jamal.”

  “Your son, Cutty.” Is dropped the knife. “You brought this on yourself. I asked you to contain him and this is what you cooked up instead.” Disgust rolled through him. “Your cousins have all been dealt with by Renzo Vega, did you know that? You sen
t them all to their deaths just because you didn’t like the fact that I told you to handle your fucking seed.”

  Cutty stooped moving and stared up at him as tears flowed down his face. “You’re just like her,” he panted. “Just like Jacqueline.” His bloodied fingers closed around the knife.

  Is pretended not to see. “Yes. And that should have been your one and only warning.” He waited until Cutty rose onto his elbows and slashed out at him before he kicked him, in the face. The knife clattered away. “I am my mother’s son.” He dropped to his knees and caught Cutty in a headlock, squeezing him as the man struggled, tried to fight.

  “And I took her from you.” Cutty gasped.

  Is twisted his neck, heard the sound of finality. That crack. And Cutty was done, lifeless in Is’ lap. He shoved the limp body off and scrambled to his feet as his phone went off. He fumbled around before he found his jacket.

  The cell was lit up, Caller ID flashing. Dr. Kirby. It was difficult to hold on to the tiny thing with his hand so saturated with blood. He barely managed. “Dr. Kirby,” he answered.

  “Mr. Jermaine, I’m sorry.” The doctor’s voice broke, and Is frowned.

  “What did she do now?”

  “She slashed her wrists in the bathtub, Mr. Jermaine.” The doctor heaved a heavy, mournful sigh. “I’m afraid she’s gone.”

  Is blinked. “What?”

  “She-She ah, left you a note.”

  Is staggered and fell to his knees. “What?”

  “Mr. Jermaine,” the doctor hesitated. “Maybe we should do this in person, sir. You don’t sound—”

  “Just fucking—” Is bit back the angry words. “Just tell me what happened. Please.”

  Kirby cleared his throat. “She went back to her room after you left. Went into the bathroom and stayed.”

  Is frowned. He’d seen the bathrooms they had in that place. There was nothing in there to help the patients hurt themselves. Everything was operated by a push of a button.

  “She had a razor. The note said her visitor gave it to her, that he told her this would be the way to get you to save her again.”

  Jesus fucking God. Is dry-heaved.

  “She said she was waiting for you to save her like you did the last time.”