Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
my family,
my man.
That was what I was thinking,
that, and the fact that I wanted to kill Benny.
“You’re upset,” the devil whispered.
My teeth rattled against themselves. I’d locked my jaw together and fisted my hands, trying to keep all the rage in. No matter how much I wanted to murder this man, I always understood I didn’t have it in me. I would regret it. And in the end, I was no fighter, just a book worm from the hood that indulged in good food and great film.
Benny murdered for enjoyment. If I even tried to strike him, he’d know before I thought it and slice my throat with that lovely little pocketknife.
“Jasmine, you’re so pissed, you’re shaking.”
I hit him with my gaze. “I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do. You go to South End and he’ll have the whole neighborhood barricaded by police.”
“I’m leaving him. That’s what you wanted. Don’t worry about where I’m going.”
“You want this to end quickly? You want him to move on fast? You want me to leave him alone?”
Turning around, I blew out a long breath and jogged down the rest of the stairs.
Benny’s footsteps sounded behind me. “Jasmine?”
Tears threatened to spill out of my eyelids, but I held them in. I’d cried enough today. I was done. Now it was time to shift into survival mode.
Rock up.
My brother Sherman would always say, “Jasmine, sometimes we got to rock up, when shit goes downhill. Get solid on the inside. Rock up. Don’t let these motherfuckers think you’re soft!”
Benny hurried to my side. “You can’t be going to your mother’s.”
I stopped and turned to him. “Why not?”
“Because she’s a demon woman.”
“You two aren’t talking these days?”
“Oh, we talk. Her more than me, and my constant listening to her plot and ruin our lives—”
“Why are you here again? You’re getting what you want.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“Bye, Benny.”
Benny cleared his throat. “This can be done quickly. Let me take you away for a few weeks. Give Chase time to move on. You know he’s going to search for you. If you hide by yourself, then he will catch you, and I’ll come for him. Your mother is not an option. South End is a no-go. If you stay with Gabe, Chase will murder him. Troy and Vivian are with me, so we can just—”
“Why are Troy and Vivian with you?”
“Family vacation.”
Turning around, I stomped farther down the stairs and Benny almost bumped into me. With a frown he closed the pocketknife and put it in his pocket. I gazed behind him.
His carved, broken-heart apple sat on the steps.
Chase would know he was here. He’d figure it out. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Would it make Chase give up sooner or cause him to be more obsessed with finding me?
“This won’t be done,” he said.
“What?”
“You need to come with me, or this won’t be done.”
My words came out as a whine. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m sorry, Jasmine.”
“You’re sick.”
He looked away. “I’ve always been that way. You just didn’t realize it, until this moment. But does that change things? I get what I want. I tried to stay out of this, but you’ve made a mess of things. I need to take care of my children better, stop cleaning up rich men’s mistakes and take care of my own.”
“You’re not even—”
“Jasmine, don’t fight me on this.”
I exhaled. “If I go with you, will you leave Chase alone?”
“Of course.” He shrugged. “I’m no monster.”
I almost cursed at him again, but instead, I glanced at the bedroom windows above us and spotted no movement. We had to get out of there fast, before Chase woke up and saw me talking to Benny.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“You were always the smart one.” Benny raised his hand.
A car started and then rumbled behind me. I turned. Betty rolled toward us. She was Benny’s favorite vehicle of his collection, a pearl-white 1934 Rolls Royce Landaulette with light gray leather interior. It had a classic right-hand English steering wheel, which was why I never drove her. It confused me. A divider sat between the driver and anyone who sat in the back. Being a fan of Betty Boop, Benny declared that the jazz-age flapping caricature would have loved a car like that, so he named it after her.
“Where were you parked?” I asked.
“Behind that crappy van.” He pointed to Maylin’s huge green and yellow beast. “It looks like the Scooby Doo Mystery Van.”
“I wish it was.”
“Why? You think Fred and Daphne could swoop down and save the day for Chase?”
“No, everyone knows Velma was the true detective, but that’s not why either. I’m more thinking I need one of Shaggy’s infamous Scooby Snacks.”
He chuckled. “I remember you and your brother’s theory, that the snacks were weed brownies.”
That moment came to me. Troy and I had become stoner teens, all due to Vivian. I didn’t partake much. Books made me high. Too bad anytime I told Vivian or Troy that books made me high, they’d throw things at me, and call me corny. Regardless, we’d sat at the table with Benny, thinking we didn’t look high, when we were. Instead of yelling at us, he’d laughed. Instead of discipline us, he’d rolled his own joint and listened to our high theories on Scooby Doo.