White Lines III (36 page)

He nodded. “I know.” He forced a smile. Awkward silence descended upon them. He rubbed his hands together as a way to occupy them. Looking at Camille, Frankie smiled again. “You look good,” he said. “I know you're with Mr. NYPD now. But I can still compliment you.”

Camille smiled, shyly. “Thanks, Frankie.”

He got a kick out of seeing her blush. It was good to see her smile again. “Are you happy?” He didn't know why he asked the question. Camille's happiness hadn't been his concern for quite some time. Still, he wondered if she had found fulfillment since the demise of their relationship.

Camille appeared to be caught off guard by the question. She only gave it a moment's thought before nodding. “I am. Happier than I've been in a long time.”

“Good,” he said. “Then I'm happy for you.” Frankie looked around awkwardly. “Where's Misa?” he asked. The question felt strange to him as he said it. Camille's sister Misa had killed his brother Steven. But facing the truth of his family history had helped him come to terms with what had taken place. While he wasn't yet ready to say that he forgave her, Frankie had somehow managed to forge a relationship of mutual respect with Misa.

“She's at Miss Celia's place visiting Baron,” Camille answered.

Frankie looked at her. “He's home?”

Camille frowned. “You didn't know?”

Frankie shook his head.

Camille's frown deepened. She chastised herself silently for spilling the beans about Baron's release. But she hadn't known that it was a secret. “He just came home, too.”

“When?” Frankie asked.

Camille stalled. “I'm not sure.” She lied, Baron had been home for weeks.

Frankie looked away, seemingly lost in thought. During the two days since Frankie's release, he had been calling Baron repeatedly, calling Celia, too. Neither of them had answered.

For several minutes neither of them spoke again. Frankie watched Bria playing with her mother. He smiled whenever she spoke the few words in her one-year-old vocabulary—“hi,” “thank you,” and “no.” Her voice was so precious that it melted Frankie's heart. He felt like shit for being so detached from her.

“I'm sorry, Camille.”

She looked at him.

“Sorry for what?”

“For not being around more. For not being a good father. Or a good husband.” He shook his head, his expression full of regret. “I got your letter while I was locked up, and I felt like shit. A real man doesn't need someone to ask him to be a father to his child. I won't sit here and make excuses for what I did and what I didn't do. I'm just sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you. You didn't deserve it. You're a beautiful mother. A beautiful woman, period. Eli's a lucky man. If I was smart, I never would have left my family. It's something I really regret right now.”

Camille wanted to cry. Frankie had apologized to her. She hadn't anticipated the emotional impact of his words. Hearing him acknowledge her pain—the pain that he had caused her—made her choke up. “Wow,” she managed.

“I'm gonna go.” Frankie stood up.

Camille continued to sit. She never expected to be here. The old Camille would have grabbed hungrily at the chance to reunite with Frankie. In that moment, she realized the depth of her love for Eli. Eli loved her deeply, completely, and with no drama. It was the complete opposite of what her life had been like with Frankie. It occurred to Camille that if they were still married, she would have been in the middle of this legal battle right alongside Frankie. It would have been her home that was raided, her assets that were seized. She was grateful that she had gotten out when she did. She surely hadn't known it then, but Frankie had done her a favor by leaving her.

She looked up at him. “What about you, Frankie?” Camille asked. “I mean I know you have a lot going on in your life right now. But, are
you
happy, Frankie? Aside from all the problems?”

Frankie shrugged. “I mean…” He sat lost in thought for a long time. So many silent minutes passed that Camille squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Frankie thought about the state of affairs in his life. His brother was dead. His mother was a recluse, weak and practically dead herself. Gillian had left him, and his marriage to Camille had crashed and burned. He had been dethroned as head of his crew, then arrested and charged with just about every crime he could name. And to top it all off, his own daughter didn't know who he was. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

He felt himself getting choked up. Then he got angry with himself for getting emotional. Embarrassed, he walked over to where Camille stood. He picked Bria up, ignoring her writhing with discomfort in his arms. He planted a kiss on her chubby cheek, and then handed her back to Camille.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

Camille watched him go, her heart going out to him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Frankie's life was in complete chaos. Despite the way he had hurt her, Camille did not hate Frankie. She wished him well, and as he shut the door behind him, she said a silent prayer for him.

*   *   *

Born drove home with Ethan in the passenger seat and Sheldon in the back. The three of them hadn't said much since they left the mall. Jada had stayed home to work on the new book she was writing. Halloween was fast approaching, and Born had taken Sheldon shopping for a costume. Ethan wasn't in the mood for trick-or-treating, still traumatized by his kidnapping ordeal.

When Born had returned home with Ethan, he had been terribly shaken. Anisa and Miss Ingrid had rushed over to Jada's house for what turned out to be a very emotional and tearful reunion. Ethan had told them every detail of what he'd endured, including the fact that Elliot had clearly intended to kill him before Jada saved their lives. Anisa's fury toward Jada lessened then. She still harbored resentment toward her. But she had saved her son's life. That softened the blow somewhat.

Sheldon was so impressed by the fact that Ethan had survived an attempt on his life, that he gained a new respect for his nemesis. He thought Ethan might have some grit deep down inside after all. Since Ethan's return, Sheldon had made a conscious attempt to get along with him better than before.

In the weeks since then, Born and Anisa had enlisted the help of a psychologist who Maury recommended. Doctor Reilly specialized in child psychology and post-traumatic stress disorder. Ethan was a bit more withdrawn since his return, but he was coming around slowly but surely. Sheldon even sat in on a few sessions with Ethan, in the hopes that the two boys would bond over what they had been through together, and separately. What made Born especially happy was the fact that Anisa hadn't objected to Ethan and Sheldon bonding, so long as Born was always present with them. She had resigned herself to the fact that Jada was the woman Born wanted in his life. Since Sheldon was her son, she reasoned that it was best for them to try to get along, if that was possible. She was so happy to have her son back safe and sound, that she stopped bitching about Jada and Sheldon. All she cared about was Ethan's safety, happiness, and well-being.

Since their reconciliation, Jada and Born had gotten Sheldon under control. Born left no question about who was the man of the house. So far, Sheldon seemed to be accepting that. He and Ethan were getting along much better. It seemed that things might turn out well for their family after all.

During their search for a costume, Sheldon wanted something gross and ghoulish. Born heard him out, let him describe the blood-and-guts ensemble he had in mind. But when it came time for them to make the final choice, Born had convinced young Sheldon to embrace a different vision for himself. His class was having a costume ball. Sheldon, whose behavior had improved considerably this school year, was being allowed to attend his first school function in quite some time. Instead of showing up as the creepy monster everyone already thought he was, Born outfitted him as a king. Sheldon's costume consisted of a long, plush red velvet cloak, a large golden crown, and a scepter.

“Ghosts, and monsters, and all that are tough. But kings are above other men. They reign over everybody, even the monsters. So when you walk in there with your crown dipped to the side, you gotta own it. You're kings. Both of you. But you gotta act like it. Kings don't raise hell, cuz they don't have to. Kings have armies that do their dirty work. They sit on their throne and they play it cool.” Born sold Sheldon on it, and he stood tall in the mirror as he tried on his costume.

Now, as they rode in the car listening to the radio, Born rapped along to a Biggie verse on “One More Chance.” Sheldon watched him from the backseat with admiration. Born was cool after all. Sheldon had wanted to hate him. Despising Born had been fun for a while. But now he was enjoying the time they all spent doing guy stuff. Sometimes Ethan came along, and sometimes he didn't. Sheldon didn't really like sharing Born's attention. But he was learning how to keep his impulses under control. When he hung out with his soon-to-be step-Pops alone, it was nice.

“You knew Biggie Smalls?” Sheldon asked.

Born laughed. “Nah, I never met Biggie. But me and your mother used to party with the rich and famous back in the day. We had a lot of fun together. We still do, that's why I love her so much.”

Sheldon tried to imagine his mother and Born when they were younger. He had seen pictures of them in their youth. He also heard some of the stories when his mother and his “aunt” Sunny reminisced on the good 'ole days. But now they were moving into a whole new phase. Born had moved into their home, and was now a full-time part of his life. DJ was really famous now. Born had met a lot of stars in his role as his manager. Sheldon hoped that having Born around meant meeting some of his favorite stars, too.

“Are you really gonna get married?” Ethan asked Born. “You and Jada gonna have kids and all that?”

Born smiled. “Well, we're definitely getting married. But I'm not sure about the baby part. We're a lot older than we used to be. And I think we got our hands full with you two.”

Sheldon smiled, relieved to hear that.

“Life is fragile,” Born said. “I know a lot of people who had plans for their life, but life had other plans for them.” Born thought about Dorian. “All you really have is today. So you have to make the most of it. I want you guys to grow up with every opportunity to be great. You guys are kings. Not savages.”

Sheldon stared out the window.
Kings.
He liked the sound of that.

 

21

DAMAGE CONTROL

Baron and Misa lay entangled in the sheets on the king-sized bed. They had woken up early that morning and made love twice. Now it was 11:05 a.m. on a Sunday morning, and the lovebirds were discussing breakfast. Holed up for the past two days at the Hilton in Short Hills, New Jersey, the two of them had big plans.

Things had completely changed between them. Baron was, admittedly, in love with a murderous beauty. He understood Misa, and she him. The two of them were volatile, restless spirits searching for a center, something to ground them. Oddly enough, they had found that in each other. Baron's brush with death, and Misa's troubles with the law had bonded them together. They had come to each other's rescue when it mattered the most.

“So when are we leaving?” Misa asked. I have to go home and pick up Shane, and pack a few things.”

“Don't pack nothing,” Baron said firmly. “Get Shane, get your passport, your jewelry, and whatever little cash you got, and let's go. I got the rest.” He gripped her chin roughly. “Don't say good-bye to nobody. It's not good-bye. We'll come back when things calm down.”

Misa nodded as best she could under his firm grip. “I got it.”

He kissed her. “Come on, let's order breakfast.”

Baron climbed out of bed, perused the hotel menu, and Misa requested pancakes. She stretched, smiling, and got out of bed. They were going to start a new chapter together. They were going to Miami and meeting up with Baron's friends there. Once everything was set up, they would sail to the Bahamas, and get lost from there.

Baron felt like the family's fall guy. He and others in the crew were being charged with major crimes, while Gillian walked away free. It had taken far too long for anyone to bail him out. It caused Baron to be suspicious of his sister and what her intentions were for him once he got out. Frankie had been calling, but Baron didn't trust him, either. He just wanted to get away. And Misa was coming with him.

“I'm getting in the shower,” she said. “Can you ask them to send up some more towels, too? We used a couple last night.”

Baron smiled and nodded. The room service operator answered, and he placed their order. He was starving after working up an appetite with Misa all morning. Afterward, he called down and requested that fresh towels be sent up. Baron walked into the living room portion of their suite, and sat down on the sofa. He thought about his mother. She had no idea that he was leaving. She couldn't know. If she did, she would have insisted that he stay and face it all head on. But Baron had made up his mind. It was time for him to go.

A knock on the front door brought him to his feet, and he strolled his sexy limp across the floor. He opened the door, expecting to find someone bearing towels. Instead, when he swung open the door, he came face to face with the barrel of a Taurus 9 millimeter. He glanced at the person holding the gun, and frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words never surfaced. The shot came so quickly, that before he could register a thought, he was thrown back several feet. The shooter walked quickly down the hall before disappearing out of sight. Baron saw the blood seeping from his chest and felt the life slipping slowly out of his body. The room began to look blurry, and then his vision faded to black altogether. Misa came running, naked, to Baron's side, screaming and crying over his bloody body.