Red Light Special (20 page)

Kenyatta was escorted by his security team to the stage where the state-of-the-city address was to take place. He looked into the sea of flashing lights, reporters, cameras, and invited guests. It didn’t matter that none of the City Council took their expected and assigned seats behind him. He was here because obviously this is where he was supposed to be, regardless of what was really going on around him.

Kenyatta stepped up to the podium, tugged a little at his silk burgundy tie, hunched his shoulders, and began his speech. “I come humbly before you,” Kenyatta’s round gold-frame glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, “as not only the mayor of our great city but also as a man, a caring man, a kind, an honest man, who loves this wonderful place.”

Out of habit Kenyatta turned to his right where Monday usually would stand and reach to grab his hand, but instead of her being there, he spotted Hudson standing at a distance in Monday’s spot. She smiled at him and he turned back around.

“I come before you most humbly and most honored to be your mayor,” he continued. “We have made great strides together, and since I have been in office, we have been like a family. Despite all the things that the lynch mob media wants to blame on me. We, New York,” he spoke with the confidence of a great preacher, “have been together, supporting one another, and for that I thank you. Going forward we will continue to focus on decreasing the city’s deficit, cracking down on prostitution rings that seem to be sweeping our city, bringing down crime, drug dealers, guns, the murder rate, gangs, address the homeless situation, and together we will stand and together we will continue to build a great city.” Once the notes containing his speech were done, Kenyatta continued on. “No longer will I be plagued by the political mob run amok who disrespect me and lie on me about foolery of which I have nothing to do with. I am dedicated to this city. I stand strong, and City Council,” Kenyatta looked at Thomas, “we have more important things to take care of in our city than for you to entertain nonsense. So, as I bring my address to a close, I say thank you, New York, for supporting me and allowing me to take us to a better place. I bid you farewell.”

Kenyatta nodded his head and was escorted backstage by his security. “Bless,” Kenyatta shook his hand and nodded his head, “it’s been a minute.”

“Yeah, it has been,” Bless cleared his throat, “but look, can you step over here for a moment?” Bless pointed to a remote corner of the hallway.

“Sure,” Kenyatta said with certainty.

“After you.” Bless held his hand out and Kenyatta walked in front of him. Once they were standing in the space Bless had designated, he looked at Kenyatta and said, “Please place your hands behind your back.” Before Kenyatta could protest, Bless took his arms, placed him in position, and slapped handcuffs on him.

Kenyatta tried to snatch away, “What are you doing?” he said, noticing an army of FBI agents standing around him. “Nice to see you again Mr. Humble,” Agent West said as he nodded his head at Kenyatta and Agent Jones waved.

“Bless,” Kenyatta looked confused, “what the hell is going on?”

“Mayor Kenyatta Smith,” Bless said, “I’m Special Agent Shields and you’re under arrest for obstruction of justice, misconduct in office, perjury, money laundering, and the murder of Eve Johnson.”

“Murder!” Kenyatta screamed, “I didn’t kill Eve!”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Bless continued on, “anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Kenyatta heard Bless, but his mind wasn’t there. His memory tripped through all the times he should’ve known better than to trust anyone other than himself, and by the time he came back to reality he was in the back of a federal agent’s car, with the sirens blaring and a television camera stuck in his face.

The afternoon sun crept into Collyn’s room as she lay in the center of her bed, wondering where all the black had come from. She knew it was noon, because the digital clock said so, but all she could see was space. Space everywhere. No longer did she see an exquisite Manhattan penthouse with amenities fit for a queen. All she could see were empty rooms with haunting echoes that wouldn’t let go of the sound of his voice, the memories, the essence of his touch, and his fuckin’ scent.

Collyn wanted to scream and cuss out the world, because nobody, not her mother, her father, or her cousin Taryn, had ever told her it would feel like this. Everyone had always said, “When a man hurts you, to hell with ’im.” But never had they mentioned what to do about your heart wanting him back.

She stared at the cathedral ceiling and thought about how her life was so different now. Everything was different except the way she felt about Bless. She loved him. She knew what he’d done to her was fucked up, but no matter what, and despite all of that, she couldn’t stop the craving she had to hear him laugh, see him smile, or hear him tell some corny-ass joke.

She missed the way he would call her and just tell her he loved her, he missed her, and he simply wanted to hear her voice. She wanted to hold his hand again and just be by his side. After all, they did share a life…But then again, fuck him.

Collyn shook her head. If only the memories would just leave.

She got off the bed and walked into the kitchen. She pulled the carrots out of the refrigerator and placed them on the counter, grabbed a knife, and started chopping them for her garden salad.

Doing her all to distract her mind from thinking, she started to sing. Eventually she found herself singing at the top of her lungs, only to have tears sneak into her eyes and pour down her cheeks. She looked around the empty room, and before she knew anything she was screaming and screaming and screaming until all she could do was rest her head in the crook of her arm and cry until her tears made a river on the countertop.

Monday stood on the balcony of her hotel suite and looked at the busy Manhattan street. She wondered where her life would go from here. Was she actually welcoming independence, or was it loneliness? She knew she wanted to rejoice that she’d finally left Kenyatta, but the pain rocking the center of her chest needed soothing. Yet she couldn’t go back to him. Leaving him wasn’t about no longer loving him; rather, it’d become a choice of life or death. And she had to live, otherwise she would never know if anything would ever be different. She had no choice but to face her greatest fear: being alone.

And yeah, she had regrets. But this was life, and sometimes that was just how the shit went. Despite the many nights she’d spent praying for him, somewhere in the midst of it she’d always known it would all come down to this.

She walked back in the hotel room, and turned on the TV. She flipped the channel to ABC News where the commentator announced “Mayor Kenyatta Smith has just been arrested.”

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Bless sat with his head thrown back and his hands in the side pockets of his pants. It was eight o’clock in the evening and he was at the local bar, knowing that it’d been five months too long for him to still be in mourning. Mourning his heart aching at even the softest breeze that carried Collyn’s scent. At the thumping of car tires in the rain that reminded him of how she would jump when they splashed water on the curbs. He couldn’t stand to see her favorite TV show or listen to her favorite song on the radio. Every time he smelled the scent of her perfume he choked up. And he couldn’t stop thinking about how she drooled in her sleep.

He hated that they didn’t meet under different circumstances, because maybe then, they would’ve had a million chances to get things right. But they didn’t and here he sat listening to Earth, Wind & Fire on the jukebox preach about the reasons for love.

“Deep thought?” a tall and curvy woman walked up and slid onto the stool next to Bless.

He sat up and looked into her face. She was pretty, long eye lashes, about a size ten, attractive enough to command some attention. He smiled at her and she returned the gesture. He could tell that she was diggin’ him. No matter the anguish he felt inside, on the outside he was still sensually brown and beautiful. “Yeah,” he said, his deep voice radiating with sadness, “I was thinking. It’s cool, though. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” She blushed, and immediately his mind flashed back to the first time he met Collyn. As he fought off his memory he heard her say, “I’m Tina, and you?”

It took a few moments for him to answer; Earth, Wind & Fire’s preaching was so intense that Bless had to contain himself and remember that it was a song and not a sermon. He noticed Tina trying to get his attention. She waved her hand, “Did you hear me?”

“Nah,” he cleared his throat, “my fault, what’d you say?”

She smiled, “I asked your name.”

“Bless…Blessing, as a matter of fact.”

“What a powerful name.” She looked him over as the bartender stopped in front of her and asked what she was drinking. “Amaretto sour please.”

After receiving her drink, she pressed the glass to her lips, took a sip, and then proceeded to talk to Bless. He was doing his best to listen, but the music seemed to be speaking directly to him, and he wanted to hear what Philip Bailey had to say, after all he seemed to be going through the same things.

As Bless listened, he wondered where Collyn was, what she was doing, where she was going, and who she was with. The tips of his fingers could still feel her soft skin pressed against his, causing him to shudder at the memory of what she felt like.

Bless knew he was fucked up, but he needed a way to get out of feeling like this. For the longest he’d sat in front of the building where Collyn lived or across the street from her gallery, waiting for the right moment for it all to click and he would be able to walk away peacefully.

Which is why he was here at the bar, because he figured…fuck it…and fuck her. He could drink a couple of beers and somehow learn to live without her. Hell, if nothing else, he had pride. And besides, she wasn’t the only one who was hurt. What about him? He confessed everything to her. Told her all that she needed to know. Risked his career, his life, and everything that he worked hard for to save her. And what about the jokes he told her, the times he called her and told her he loved her? What about how he would massage her feet and make love to her like the world was coming to an end…and still she didn’t appreciate him. What about the Chinese food, how he took care of her when she was sick, and was right there whenever she needed him…and still none of that was good enough. So to hell with it then. What choice did he have other than to pack his emotional bags and keep it movin’.

“So are you single?” Tina interrupted his thoughts, “You look like a nice man, I’d like to call you sometime.”

Bless saw her lips move, but he didn’t respond. How could he? He’d just convinced himself of some bullshit he knew didn’t exist, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t go another day without seeing the only woman he ever wanted in his life. He had to try, at least one more time, and if it didn’t work, then fuck it. Fuck…it…