Melissa And The Cowboy (Western Night Series 1) (26 page)

It had been a long time since Red Diamond Squad had been in trouble, especially with external forces. Vick seemed like the last of their troubles but apparently that was short lived. Everyone sort of had a feeling that some bullshit was going to pop off and end, or at least challenge, their position. Shay’s heart sunk. While she was having a good time with Henriquez, Eric was in trouble and she knew nothing of the circumstances or what to do. The only thing she could think of was to call for an emergency meeting with the royals.

They sat around a table talking about the circumstances and what exactly went down. Eric was supposed to be doing a big dope drop to a big drug organization for a huge payout, only the feds were onto him. Someone had to have known that he was coming. The drug heads wouldn’t have told on themselves so common sense told her that someone else had to be the blame of the situation.

She held her head in her hands. Eric was behind bars, she could bail him out but that would look suspicious, the last thing she needed was jail time. If she was booked RDS would go into a state of complete chaos. There would be no sense of getting locked up, now was definitely not the time.

Snow was called on to speak and he had said that Eric’s car was shot at and seized before he even got to the location. He was lucky to make it out alive because Bank didn’t. They would now need a new accountant but Eric needed to be bailed out before anything crazy happened. All of a sudden the doorbell rang, it was Layla. After the other day Shay really didn’t want to deal with her so she went to the door and tried to be as kind and cordial as possible.

“What,” Shay folded her arms.

“Good afternoon,” she said, “I’m sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean it— I mean, I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything,” Layla gestured.

“Mhmn,” Shay said waiting for further explanation.

“Can I come in for a second?” Layla asked.

“I’m busy,” Shay snapped.

“Surely we can go out for lunch or something, grab a coffee or cocktails maybe— talk about girl things? It’ll be fun,” she smiled.

Shay stepped back inside but as she started shutting the door Layla caught her.

“At least take my card,” she said nervously, “you can call whenever you’re…. not busy— I guess,” she said with her eyes towards the ground. Shay didn’t know if she was trying to make her feel bad for giving her the cold shoulder or if she genuinely felt some kind of way about being treated the way that Shay was treated her. Either way she didn’t care.

Some kind of nerve she had popping up like that especially when she tried to act funny the other day. Shay was still angry about it. She didn’t like playing cat and mouse that just wasn’t her sort of thing so even when she liked or trusted someone she didn’t take to such things easily. It still angered her. She was still upset with things and all of this shit was happening at once. She had too much to worry about all of a sudden. Dom would have to take the edge off of things so she ordered him to do rounds and collect the money.

She thought about having Tasty go and bail him out. No one knew her real name except for her and Snow, but she had been around the block one too many times. She would just send someone else to bail him out. They had the money but what was going to happen when he went on trial? She trusted him but at the same time if it came down to saving his own ass Eric would probably throw everyone else under the bus.

He knew not to contact her or anyone else— it suddenly dawned on her that if they seized his cell phone they would have just about everyone’s contact information. She started thinking about what would happen and if it came down to it what she would have to do to protect the rest of RDS. As the leader it was her duty to make sure nothing happened to anyone. It was probably too late for Eric but she still had to worry about just about everyone else.

She sent out emergency messages telling the soldiers to lay low and to fulfill the last of their deliveries but to not take up any new offers. She couldn’t fathom so many people being punished because of the lifestyle she let them become a part of. She didn’t want that to happen to them.

She thought about Layla. Now would be the perfect time for a friend but she still couldn’t get over the shade that the persnickety bitch tried to throw at her the other day. She would just have to rely on the people that she had for now even though she wasn’t exactly on a friend basis with anyone. One could surmise that it would just be her and the maid for now and for the next coming weeks.

The phone rang— Eric was calling from the city jail. Shay became infuriated. What kind of idiot would do such a thing? She knew it and as much as she hated to admit it, Henriquez was right. He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that the feds wouldn’t be storming her house and questioning her as if she had done harm to someone. It made her sick to the stomach that he actually called their home phone. She ripped the phones out of the wall and threw them in a bag. She prayed that they wouldn’t come but if they did she would be prepared.

As the royals, left Henriquez stayed behind. He was quiet, he didn’t say anything. Snow had to be on the lookout. There was a rat somewhere in the squad and now more than ever Shay wasn’t sure who she could trust and what she would be able to get away with doing. How was she supposed to keep the squad happy if she couldn’t allow them to do the things that made them money in the first place? She loved them all but the last thing she would do is reach into her own damn bank account to appease them. The fate of Red Diamond Squad was up in the air. All she could do now is sit back and wait.

THE END

BONUS BOOK 5

Falling For  A Billionaire

African American Romance

By: Violet Hill

Falling For A Billionaire

The Bombardier Global 6000 was lining up with Runway 6L at the Los Angeles International Airport. The company plane was a new purchase which had raised some murmurs from various company officials, but those outcries had been taken care of. The jet’s intercom buzzed and a call was received.

“Mrs Chege- er- sorry, Mrs. Scott, we’ll be landing in five minutes…”

Silence.

Mark Seildon, could feel the coldness in the silence on his end of the phone, and regretted the error.  He knew he was in trouble.

Without a flinch, "Mrs. Scott" returned the phone to its stand. Just like the few officials, Mark would be dealt with for the stupid remark. Janelle Scott or as how she was being called in her social circles, Janelle Chege, was in too gleeful mood to let the captain’s chide dampen her. The massive deal by Scott Industries with Clampett Oil and Gas Corp would propel her international conglomerate into the prospective and lucrative oil foray.

Clutching the brown envelope, she could not help but feel a sweeping euphoria of victory overwhelm her. Her company would be on the front pages again. No. Their company. Was Chege ready for this? There was only one way to find out.  The mention of his name sent jitters to her body.

A warm sensation rocked between her thighs. She knew the feeling. A deep longing for the father of their child. Coupled with love; that she had to admit. Who would have known? Love was a phenomena not many people had mastered. It took time to understand love.

It blew her away, that a simple arrangement with a commoner could lead to spine twisting spasms in her body. She was amongst the most powerful women in the world.  Forbes had ranked her side by side Queen Elizabeth II. If she announced the marriage, it would create a fury. The media would have a feast and her enemies would have countless of orgasms. She was a Scott. She would go on with the arrangements and come out head held high; it was love conquering all.

A small turbulent rocked the opulent plane. She dismissed it as a normal occurrence. How many times had she experienced severe of storms; too many to count. Looking outside, the sunny outline of LA came into view. The rocking now continued. Then the plane swayed to the right before banking to the left; this was not normal. Alarm bells began to sound in her head.  In that instant, all the wonderful memories since childhood flooded her eyes.

Then came the meeting with the haggard looking, yet charming, black Adonis who would completely change her life. The agreement. The wonderful piston like movements in bed. The birth of her daughter; she was going to lose all that.

Not Martin Chege and her daughter Megan.

It can’t be.

She was going to propose to him.

She had to pour out her true feelings to him

It was then that she became sane again and regained her awareness.

She screamed, “I love you!” but it only came a second too late.

The cabin was filled with hellish fire that were reaching out to consume her. It was broken by the crackle of flames starting to lick at the undercarriage of the plane.

Back at the control tower, Paul Ebsen, watched in horror as the jet spiraled out of control and plunged nose down just feet away from the landing lights. The runway had been so near but the small plane had not been able to reach it. Paul's thoughts were preoccupied.

“It was only just a hundred feet. A few more where the British Airways had …...”

His train of thought cut short by the horrific realisation of the error he had made. A fatal error. He had guided the plane to the wrong runway, landing it ninety seconds apart from a massive 747 that was now heading to the terminal after using the same runway. The small Bombardier had been caught in the wake of jumbo jet, leading it to spiral out of control.

Martin Chege was coming out of the bedroom, a robe hiding his nudity. The beautiful Latino maid hired to take care of Megan was cuddled to the massive king size bed. She was obviously spent after spending the entire evening with Martin. Dreamily, she could only describe him as a black god. Martin was strikingly handsome, with black, unruly hair, dark eyes, an athletic build, and a warm smile. Not to mention, he was a great fuck. He joined her in blissful ecstasy. He would thrust in her like a deranged bull seeking to impale its horn to its matador. In unison they would shudder to a mind-bending orgasm; him calling her name, and her his.

Today was different.

First, during foreplay, he had appeared distraught; tormented to be precise.

During their short lived lovemaking, he called out for Janelle. Furthermore, he had not emptied the seeds of his loins in her.  Then he charged out frustrated. Something was not right. She had tried everything that most Kamasutra books had taught her to do but his male part could not come hard easily.

Martin sat on the Ivory Haute House Duncan Sectional Sofa that had a special tufted leather sewn on the outside. The blasting air conditioning system was not doing enough to reprieve his tormented soul. Even the soft warm naked body of Esmeralda could not diminish the ache he had of seeing Janelle. He was regrettably sorry for being unfaithful to her. But had he been unfaithful? Were they even a thing?

It had all been a lie. Just a mere arrangement.

She gets the baby and, me the money.

Nothing else to it.

But why him. He was a mere African who had received citizenship rights in America. Kenya was his home.

"Yes, was. I am now an American. A human being with purpose," he reminded himself.

The nudging feeling could not be evaded. He had arranged to call her and pour his heart out.

If she refuses, well we are back to the streets, of course.

What if she agrees? No, her ego wouldn’t let her. She owns the world and me? Nothing!

The feeling wouldn’t leave him. Finally he had to agree; it was love.

The more he sat there, the more the feeling bothered him. Feeling exasperated, he decided to switch on the 42 inch TV. The instant he saw the news feed on ABC7 made all colour on his face fade. There on an insert, beside David Kohn, the news anchor, was a live feed of a smouldering wreckage. A salvageable piece of the tail bore the bright green emblem of Scott Industry.

“So what is the condition of Scott’s President and CEO, Larry?” David was asking the reporter on the ground. Flashing police and fire fighting truck lights filled the scene.

“As we already know, doctors have said that there is no hope of her surviving. She was taken into surgery at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, where doctors are battling to keep her alive. As for the rest of the crew on the company plane, none survived."

Martin did not hear the rest. He began to sway, staring at the television set stupidly. Concentration was failing and a dizzy spell was beginning to emerge. He began to pant, gasping for air. He clutched his heart and toppled over in his chair, his face twisted to one side in a horrible contortion.

*****

Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center was in a flurry of activity. The staff had been alerted by radiophone. A female nurse running alongside the gurney while a second male nurse stood, waiting on the ramp. The patient was transferred from the gurney to the operating table.

He was a beautiful black young man. His face was contorted in a lifeless manner. It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was way handsome. It would be a pity if they lost him. The robes he wore showed affluent splendour.

“Who’s the doctor on call?”

“Dr. Mauricio.”

“Get him immediately. He has a chance to live if you hurry.”