BOMAW 4-6 Read online

  Chapter 77

  In L. A...

  Maxwell lay cuffed to the hospital bed, his rights read, with two detectives before him trying to question him.

  "I'm not answerin' anything! I don't know a goddamn thing! I don't know shit! I want my lawyer! I get my one phone call - and I ain't saying nothing until my lawyer here! You hear me? You might as well quit asking! I don't know who what where or when about nothing! I ain't sayin' shit! Now somebody get me a phone! Interrogation over until my representative arrives!"

  * * *

  "I think we just need to be calm and see what's going on. We don't want to jump to conclusions. Let's first get to her place and we'll go from there." Jeremiah spoke gently to calm her friend down.

  "I'm sorry, I'm trying to be calm ... but ... I can't help this feeling in my stomach. Deidre has been worried for the last few weeks, afraid for her life." Terra confessed, unconcerned for the time being about keeping hush hush on Deidre's fears and concerns. Although she'd never met Jeremiah... she knew of him. Knew of him from Deidre, even as far back as when they were in school. Deidre use to talk about him all the time. How cute he was, how she'd often been tempted to kiss him. Hoping that one day he would try and kiss her; until finally she'd taken the initiative to make the move. One that she ended up regretting because it cost his mother her job and later on, even worse, her life. Following the absence of him and his mother from her life, Deidre gradually tapered off speaking of him. She complained less about her parents as well and how much she hated them, living with them, being their daughter.

  Now here it was years later, after their lives had taken the turns necessary to bring them to the present, she'd arrived at the restaurant and told her about meeting him again. How they'd met up at the 7'Eleven. Leading to his phone call where dinner was arranged, ending with them walking, laughing and reminiscing about how life had been back in the seventies and the things they missed from that time period. She knew that Deidre had enjoyed his company. Terra encouraged her to keep it up, anything to get her moving forward and off of thoughts of Shawn McPherson.

  "What do you mean afraid for her life? From who?"

  Terra was quiet a moment, and finally, "Her family. Her father, her mother. You see... Deidre made out a power-of-attorney in my name. Giving me power over her and everything belonging to her, in case of a sudden, accident. In fact, she said to me... "Don't let them get me."

  Hearing those words sent chills over Jeremiah. They were both silent as the words and their significance went through their minds. Finally Jeremiah pulled into the lot at her warehouse apartment. He didn't have to drive too far into it to see her car parked there.

  "Well now - her car is still here." Jeremiah stated.

  Terra sighed in relief. "Maybe she got sick at the last minute, oh thank god. Let's go up and check on her."

  He parked his hummer, they both climbed out and walked up to the building and rang the buzzer to her apartment. Waited for her to answer. No response, he laid on it again and waited. They looked at each other. "Is there any other way into this building?" Jeremiah asked.

  "No... its secure, you can only be buzzed in."

  He pulled out his cell phone and tried her number again. Waiting for her to answer, and six rings later, he was shaking his head staring into Terra's eyes. "No answer."

  "What now?" She asked.

  He clicked the button to end the call, was about to put it away when his ring tone started. They both braced themselves hoping that it was Deidre.

  "Hello?"

  "Man come to Cedars-Sinai now! I'm in some serious shit man! I need you herenow! Jeremiah... I don't know what the fuck is going on, but somebody tried to kill Deidre Wherrington tonight! We didn't know-..."

  "WHAT?! Hang on a minute... what are you saying?"

  "Man... just get here! I'll explain when you get here! Hurry up man!"

  Jeremiah clicked his phone off, grabbed Terra's arm and started running for his hummer.

  "What's going on?! What's happening?!"

  * * *

  Chicago...

  "Jake... Jake... wake up... Jake! Oh man... I am too tired for this... JAKE! JAAAKE!" It was 3:30 in the morning and Vivian was exhausted.

  Her eyes were scratchy, burning - all she wanted to do, was climb in bed.

  She'd made the long drive, had been afraid at one point that she would have to pull over, but she kept the heavy one ton truck on the road. Navy blue, extended cab and clean as could be even though it was a few years old. It handled like a dream. She'd gone through some of his tapes under the dash to keep herself alert, it was a good thing she didn't mind rock, and a bit of country - because that's all there was. She popped in Bad Company and adjusted her listening pleasure and found it was - ( for her tastes) - at least tolerable music, especially a couple of the songs. He also had Tim McGraw, she could deal with that okay as well. The key was to stay alert, because beside her - no help.

  There was a lot on Vivian's mind during that drive. For one, it felt good handling the truck. One of the questions plaguing her mind was, did she enjoy driving the truck because she had no vehicle, or... did driving it, handling it... give her the sensation of handling the man who owned it? That was the question. She tried so hard to keep her mind clear and focused, but some significant altering had taken place in her life that day. It began the moment she looked up into Jake's eyes. She'd felt a shock clear through her system reaching to the tips of her toes. He'd taken her breath away.

  She would have gotten over the shock of the encounter had they never met again.

  Unfortunately for her, they had, under crazy and surprising circumstances.

  He was Sylvia's brother-in-law.

  Sylvia's husband's brother.

  The man mama Micky wanted her to meet.

  The black sheep of the family - the McPherson trouble maker.

  This she gathered in the short space of time that she was forced to view the drama he was responsible for igniting. If that weren't enough, he had a thing for Sylvia. No matter how light - or frivolous the feeling, no matter how shallow and selfish... it still existed. So now... here she was trying to make sense out of why she still felt a tingle deep in the pit of her gut for him. Knowing that if he had his way, he might possibly prefer to be with Sylvia instead. She felt disgusted with herself, because she was conjuring up reasons in her head of why it was okay to... to want him. She gave him a quick glance, her mind swirling in disbelief - although she had been looking for something close to him, different income bracket that is, it was still startling to be sitting beside this amazing looking white male. A white man! That wasgasp worthy in itself; while true, she did work with them - but lordy lordy, none were like this. This one, blew her away. Hadn't it just been earlier that day that she set eyes on him and was almost floored by what she saw? Granted, to see him now, he was nothing special to want. But... here she was, sitting in this big, white, mans truck, driving it to Chicago, with him stretched out beside her.

  And she liked it - God help her, she did.

  Even though he was passed out drunk, head pressed against the door window, with his snoring filling the cab, his hand laying on the console between them, battered and bruised; his shirt, torn and bloody; his hair full of gravel and grit. And yet... she felt her heart beating in a way that told her, be careful... be real careful.

  "Jake... come on... wake up!" She called to him tiredly and picked up his hand. Not a good move, touching his warm, solid, heavy hand was startling. She could not deny the sudden jolt to her system. His hand was very heavy; big, hard and calloused. She'd never felt hands like his before. All the men she'd ever known, worked with, had soft hands. Not his... they were shockingly hard, to the extent that she was surprised a human hand could be so amazingly ... rough, large a
nd ... masculine. She didn't need to be told that whatever he did for a living, it required hands on and he must use them an awful lot for them to feel this way.

  Sign of a laborer. She shook her head.

  No such man would she have even given the time of day to. Her area of choice was strictly and always, professionals with degrees, and an income of no less than a six figure salary. Her heart was pounding. His knuckles were large and raw, skinned from fighting. She couldn't help herself, carefully she touched the battered area, and felt breathless. She looked up at his profile, his face was getting bristly, and beneath his eye on his high cheek bone, his skin was split with dried blood flowing from the wound.

  "Oh Jesus... what am I gonna do? I want this man. I want - this man, but for what? Sylvia hates him. No doubt for good reason. What else are you up to? With those looks, I can just imagine it's not good." She whispered to herself. She leaned back in the seat wondering what the heck to do. There was no way she could get him out of this truck if he didn't wake up. He was much too big and she wasn't even going to try, but she had to do something.

  She pulled his keys from the ignition, put them into her bag, opened the door and stepped from the truck slamming the door behind her and walked around to his side. She looked up and down her street, thanking God that she lived in a nice neighborhood, otherwise there would be no way she'd be out on the streets this late following a Friday night. "Okay - what do I do here? Should I just leave him out here?" She shook her head, "I am not leaving him out here, no way... he's gonna have to wake up!" She took a deep breath, steadied herself and opened the door, intending to catch him, but he tumbled out with her trying to hold him.

  "Shit shit shit shit shit! Oh shit you heavy...JAKE - you better wake up! You about to bite concrete! SHIT - JAKE!" Out he tumbled onto the ground with his feet still up on the side of the door jam. Vivian straining to hold him up from under his arms. He weighed a ton... at least it felt like he did while she stood there unable to keep him up. She had no choice, she had to let him go, she couldn't hold him and backed up and eased him down on the ground.

  "I can't believe this shit! I should have left your ass in the truck! JAKE! Dammit! Wake - your - ass - up!"

  He snored.

  She whimpered, wanting to cry.

  Suddenly a car pulled up across from her townhouse, she looked over, it was Debra and Cedric White, she couldn't believe her luck. They were just getting home from somewhere and they had a teenage son among the three. Vivian shot across the road calling out to them, "Debra! Cedric! Yoo-hooo! Excuse me... I'm so sorry to bother you, I know its late, but I desperately need your help! Please..." She stopped next to their car, standing by as each of them got out.

  "What's going on? Girl do you know it's almost four in the mourning? We just got in from Ohio... and we tired, what you need?" Debra asked. If Vivian wasn't so desperate, she wouldn't ask her for anything, because Debra could be a nasty piece of work when she wanted to be. They were barely tolerant neighbors, and were only polite when necessary, most of the time, they pretended not to notice each other.

  "I really hate to bother you, but... I umm, I need help... with - him." She turned and pointed across the street at Jake who was laying out on the ground without a care in the world.

  "What is that? Who is that?" Cedric asked, they were all squinting trying to make out the person stretched out half on the sidewalk and half on the driveway.

  "He's ummm, that's his truck and I drove it back from Wisconsin. I met him at a wedding yesterday and I'm desperate for help-..." She started explaining, following them as they walked across the street to get closer. All stopped and surrounded him, looking down, Cedric interrupted her saying, "Girl you must be desperate, first of all - he white! And on top of that, you done beat the man unconscious to drag his ass back here."

  "Ex-cuuuse me... I not that kind of desperate..." She defended herself. "...I needed a ride back, because my girlfriend decided to stay, so he brought me back, but I had to drive and he... well... he's out cold." She explained.

  "Well who beat him up?!" Cedric asked staring down at him.

  "Yeah, why he all beat up?! Lo-o-ord lord lord... girl what you be bringing home." Debra drawled, shaking her head looking down at Jake.

  "Look... I just need help getting him into my house, and up into my other bedroom... please, I don't wanna leave him out here like this." She asked using her customer service voice, one of extreme patience, that they were certainly trying and of course she didn't want to do anything that might make them turn down helping her, they were the type that would.

  "His ass is white!" Cedric repeated in disbelief. "What kind of wedding you go to? White folks there?" He asked.

  His wife looked up at him like he was crazy, "Well ob-vi-ously." She tossed her hand out pointing at Jake.

  "Can you all help me take him inside please?"

  "His ass look heavy... my back bad. I can't be throwing my back out carrying in some big ass white man. Shit... wake his ass up!" Cedric suggested, nudging him with his toe, "Hey! Wake yo' ass up! Wake up!"

  "I tried to wake him up... he won't wake up."

  "Don't hit him so hard next time." Cedric snickered, nudging his wife, who cackled along with him. "Anyway, leave his ass there... he be all right, they use to sleepin' on the ground'n'shit. Outdoor campin' motha'fuckas... toss his ass a blanket and call it a night!"

  "I don't mind dad... I can help lift him." They're eldest son Gary volunteered.

  "Just hold it one goddamn minute... don't get all anxious. I got to figure this shit out... hurt my back... hell... I'ah be laid up for days if I hurt my back."

  "That's true baby... he right... he do have a bad back."

  "Okay okay okay... I'll pay you okay? I'll pay you... if you help me pick him up and carry him up the stairs-..."

  "Up some stairs too?!" He whined.

  "I'll pay you a hundred and fifty dollars." Vivian finally said.

  "Son get that foot. Lynn, you grab his arm there, baby... get the other leg-..."

  "You grab a leg, his damn legs look heavy... long ass legs, I'll grab a arm." Debra argued.

  "Woman his goddamn arm connected to his heavy ass body... you gone lift that?"

  Vivian whimpered.

  "Hang on... first... money... ain't gone be no, "Oops, I got to run by the bank... I'll have to pay you later." No no sista'... you want help with this big o'white man... you got to pay first." Debra brought a halt to everything with her hand out.

  Vivian bit into her tongue, turned to the truck setting her purse on top of it, and went into it looking for money. She had eighty dollars, that was it, the rest was in the bank. "Look, I have eighty dollars here, I promise you I'll get-..."

  "Better throw a blanket out here." Cedric backed his wife up.

  "Okay, wait a minute." Vivian grumbled and went down searching Jake as everyone stood over him looking down at him. She found his wallet in his back pocket, pulling it out and open, it was thick with bills.

  "Goddamn! How much money in there?!" Cedric asked.

  "One hundred fifty... that is it!" Vivian stated firmly, already seeing the signs of greed in his eyes.

  "I'on know... looks like to me, you need us - two hundred, we'll carry his ass in -and undress'im."

  "I think she wanna do that shit herself!" Debra joked nudging her husband, both of them started laughing again.

  Vivian had little choice. She counted out a hundred and twenty from Jake's wallet and put her eighty with it, then stood holding the money and his wallet, grabbing her purse. "Get him inside and on the bed, then you get the money."

  Huffing and blowing, staggering under his weight, they finally maneuvred him into the house and up the steps, needing to stop and catch a breath on the way. Finally, after almost tripping, and setting him down once, they got him to the bed and it took all of them to heft him onto it.

  "What the fuck he eat!? Shit! Big lumberjack ass son'va'bitch! Goddamn!!!" Cedric complained with his hand to his back.r />
  "Money... honey... thank you! Anytime you need another one carried in, just give us a call."

  Vivian followed them out, checked the truck to make sure it was locked and then came back in locking her front door. Bristling over the cost of getting him out of the truck and into the house. She was going to have to pay him that money back. Last thing she wanted was for him to think she was after his money, she would have to explain when she got home from the bank. She went into the bathroom, washed her face, brushed her teeth and changed into her light pyjamas. She went into her kitchen, filled her clean dish pan with warm water and carried it up to the room where Jake lay sleeping, sat it on the floor, then went and gathered gauze, cotton balls, mild soap, antiseptic cream, band-aids and a comb.

  A few moments later, she was cleaning him up. Soaking his injured hand with a warm soapy wash cloth, inspecting his knuckles and fingers, then drying them, she applied the antiseptic cream and wrapped his hand in the gauze. She then removed his shirt, the back was as bad as the rest of it, ruined from him hitting the ground and sliding along the gravel, she could just imagine his back. She climbed on the bed, both feet on either side of him and hefted his upper body over onto his side, where she sat, straddling him to hold him in place. Across his shoulder blades, his back was scarred with slide burns, raw with pealing skin and dried blood. It was a chore to keep him turned to wipe away the clinging gravel and dirt, but she worked on him and refused to stop and ask herself why. The whole time he made not a sound. By four thirty, she was done with him. Including having stripped him down to his underwear, resisting an impulse to take a peak, and combed out the gravel and grit from his silky long hair. Momentarily dazed, Vivian caressed the texture of it, rubbing it gently between her slender fingers. Snapping out of it, exhaustion was taking its toil. She threw a blanket over him, put everything away and went to her room, set the alarm clock for seven o'clock. She was going to use his truck to get to work in - she had no choice, because waking up at seven would not get her to work on time using the bus and train. She laid down thanking God she only had to work from nine to one. Yes it was only four hours, but she said she would work it in exchange... and work it she would, dead on her feet or not.