Chapter 5 #2
“You can go wherever you want. I’m not gon’ hold you.
You can even dip if you want. I would like your help, but I get it.
If you want to leave right now, I can take you back to her apartment,” he says.
He pulls the other two cells from his pocket and places them in front of her.
Then he grabs his cell. “It’s whatever you want,” he adds before standing.
“I gotta find something to eat. You let me know what you decide,” he adds, then heads to the stairs.
She watches as he ascends then she gives her attention to the phones and the items on the table. Things really have taken a turn overnight and everything has changed.
But how? Where did he get those horrible hospital records? What else can he find?
So many thoughts, good and curious ones, run through her mind but skepticism is at the forefront. However, she tries to push it back because he wants to find Tanjaya and needs her help. And more importantly, he wants to kill Marcelin.
After staring at both phones and the papers on the table for a moment, she stands and treks up the stairs.
The door to the main level was left open, a sign that he’s serious about her being free to go.
So she walks right into the kitchen. Akeem stands at the massive island going through a basket.
Tension floats in the air. She brought it but doesn’t want it to linger so she speaks.
“I think I might want a little something. Did you order yet?” she asks.
“Nah, I haven’t,” he says before looking up. He passes her a menu. “I’m thinking this spot.”
The menu for Pancake House is pretty decent.
Although it’s a breakfast spot, it has a few lunch offerings too.
Because she’s really not a breakfast girl, she decides on a grilled chicken breast sandwich and salad.
When he passes his phone to her, she adds her order to the delivery app.
His stack with bacon and eggs is already in the cart.
“Is there stuff in the fridge?” she asks while still holding the phone.
“Just drinks, mainly water.”
“Then, let me add my coffee and a cup of ice,” she says more to herself.
After adding a large dark roast, a kid-size carton of milk, and sugar packets to the order, she hands the phone back.
While he submits the order, she takes advantage of her newfound freedom and tours the home.
She checks the fridge and pantry first before moving to the dining room, living room, beautiful guest bathroom, and both bedrooms. If they spend another night here, she’s definitely sleeping on the huge wooden sleigh bed in the guest room.
When she returns to the kitchen, all of the items from Tanjaya’s apartment are on the island.
He’d brought them from the basement while she toured.
Akeem wanted to bring her bag up but didn’t feel right going through her things.
She is no longer his mark. If she decides to stay, she will be his partner, and in that role, she’s allotted boundaries and a level of respect.
“Do you want me to bring your bag up?” he asks.
“Are we staying here again?” she counters.
“So, you’re not leaving?”
“No, not yet anyway. I really need to find my sister and make sure she’s okay,” she says.
“Good.”
“You still didn’t answer my question though. Are we staying here again?”
“At least tonight. I’m hoping we can start tracing her steps tomorrow but we can figure that out today.”
“Then, yeah, let me get my stuff. It’s all still packed.”
“I got it. Your shoulder still isn’t a hundred. We might need to find you a real sling today. I’m sure this town has a drugstore or something.”
“I think it’s good,” she says. But when she notices the furrow of his eyebrows she adds, “But it might help, especially when I’m sleeping.
” He nods then heads toward the basement.
When he walks off, it suddenly dawns on her that she doesn’t even know his name.
Naturally, he hadn’t offered it, and before, it didn’t matter to her.
She only wanted to get away from him, knowing the least about him that she could, but things are different now.
“What’s your name?” she calls out and he laughs lowly.
“Akeem,” he says with an arrogant ass smirk before continuing down to the basement.
“Akeem,” she repeats in a whisper, then finds herself smiling. He looks like an Akeem.
Smirking to herself, she steps toward the bag he brought up from the basement and takes the papers, notes, and envelopes from Tanjaya’s place out.
The lighter is at the bottom of the bag.
Last night, she didn’t pay much attention to it.
Her focus had been the papers, but this morning, she examines it and notices the logo, Lazy Nights Club.
She has the club pulled up on her cell when he emerges with her stuff.
Holding the lighter and her phone out to him, she says, “Look what I found. It’s a night club in Jacksonville. The logo matches; this has to be the same place.”
He takes her phone and looks through the pictures on the site.
Lazy Nights Club is a late night R&B and rap club with a unique appeal.
Actual beds line the walls of the club—four on each, twin-sized .
The spacious, open floor plan houses two large bars, a sectioned off VIP, corner DJ booth, and three small stages with poles placed throughout.
According to the site, it’s a twenty-four hour establishment and has been in the city for almost twelve years.
“And you think she might have been here?” he asks when he slides her phone back.
“Yeah. She doesn’t smoke, at least not that I know of. I mean, her place didn’t smell like it and there were no signs, ashtrays, or nothing. She kept this lighter for a reason and I think it’s worth the ask or look,” she says and he nods in agreement.
It’s a start, a good one actually.
“We can look at flights and leave…” he begins but she interrupts.
“Tonight, if there’s a flight. It’s open twenty-four hours and I need to see her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Bet. We can dip tonight. I’ll have my partner book us.”
“Or I can. I’m a travel agent,” she says.
“I work remotely and my laptop is in my bag.” She steps toward her luggage and opens the compartment in the front.
When she pulls her slick laptop and charging cord out, she glances back at him.
“I’ll book our flights and hotel, if that’s cool with you. I just need your date of birth.”
“I’ll get you the info,” he says and her eyebrows peak.
“You don’t know your birthdate?” she asks, perplexed.
“I know mine but not the name I’m going to travel under,” he says with a smirk. “Give me a sec.”
While completing contracts, Akeem never uses his government.
Nothing can be traced back to him, especially his proximity to the kills.
Airline tickets, rental cars, Airbnbs, hotels, and even food deliveries are all arranged and paid for under temporary non-traceable IDs courtesy of Axton.
As far as his contracts, Akeem Simmons doesn’t exist, which surprised him when he gave her his real first name and not Terrance, the name used to book this ranch house.
He heads to the bedroom to grab the license and credit card for Terrance Williams and she sets up at the small table in the kitchenette with her laptop and the things from Tanjaya’s apartment.
She’s set and logged in when he returns.
The moment he places the license on the table, the doorbell chimes.
“The food,” she utters and he nods before heading to the front door. While he gets the food, she picks up the Louisiana driver’s license. “Terrance Williams,” she mumbles, then huffs. Is Akeem even his real name?
To say she doesn’t know shit about this man is an understatement.
Akeem, if that’s his real name, is a mystery to her but she has to trust him, at least for now.
He kept his word and opened the house to her.
It truly appears that if she wants to leave, she can.
He won’t stop her and that’s the first reason she’s trying to believe him.
The second is his willingness to find Tanjaya and the third is his desire to kill Marcelin.
Based on just those medical records, he doesn’t deserve to breathe any air.
In this instance, she’s glad her instincts about Akeem are right.
He’s a killer and will give Marcelin the death he deserves.
When Akeem returns with the food and her coffee, she’s still holding the license. She drops it and joins him at the kitchen island. Before pulling the food containers from the bags, she washes her hands and he does the same.
“Did you find flights?” he asks as she places the clear plastic container filled with his pancakes in front of him.
“Yeah, two, but I haven’t booked yet. One leaves from Diamond Falls at four and we land in Jacksonville at six-thirty. The other is at nine out of Crescent Falls and we won’t get there until eleven-twenty. I haven’t had time to see which airport is the closest.”
“Diamond Falls,” he says before bowing his head to pray silently. She joins in. “Amen,” he says out loud. “To make the flight at four, we gotta get out of here in the next two hours. You cool with that?”
“Yeah, that’s enough time. I can be ready after we eat.”
“Bet. Then we have time to get your arm sling,” he says.
After sipping her still hot coffee, she asks, “And what about your guns?”
“I’m good,” is all he offers. Most people don’t know firearms are allowed on planes. He just has to unload them and lock them into his hardshell, TSA-approved container.
“Okay,” she says before taking a bite of her sandwich. With a tight chest, he studies her closely to make sure she doesn’t have a reaction like last night. When she doesn’t and takes another bite, his entire body relaxes.
“Do you have another pen?” he asks.
“Why? You need to write something?” she asks.
“Nah, not that. Your Epi?”