Chapter 28
washington
. . .
That shower bench did me justice. Every damn section did. My brain ran through our positions like screenshots while I lay in bed, the top of Madison’s now frizzy hair tucked beneath my chin. Her ass an offering as I spooned her. God, give me strength. And thank You.
In the predawn darkness, Madison let out a sigh that made me want to love her again and again. “You know we’ve been going at it for over twenty-four hours.”
“Woman, what are you talking about? We just got home.”
“Mm-hmm.” She pulled out of my arms, and it took everything in me not to tug her back beneath me. After grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she flashed the screen in my face and murmured, “Yep.”
“Well, you know, I’m a man, so blood hasn’t flowed in my brain since—”
“Should I call 911?”
“Hell, no. I’m good.”
“Great. Oh,” she said, eyebrows furrowed. “Is Texas coming back?”
“He left a little message for me.” I snorted at the thought of the AirTag Texas had left on top of a glass angel Madison created, which lived beside the alarm keypad.
Damn, I couldn’t believe he’d found my tracker.
Dude was infuriating with that little I-see-you-bruh energy, but nah, fam, you can’t stalk me.
“A message?”
Not in the way you think. “Yep.” I replied to brush off the topic.
“I even texted him when we arrived. Just a check-in. But nothing. Maddy, if he left, that means he doesn’t want a warm place to stay.
That’s on him. He has the key code if he wants to come back.
Now, enough chatting about my brother. We’re in bed.
” I squeezed the sugary piping out of this woman. “You ready for Dome Daddy?”
“Good night, Washington. Sex-a-thon complete.” She yawned, then patted my chest. “I’m officially upgrading your little gold star to a gold medal.”
“Madison, c’mon, girl.” I eased over her in our bed, my hands caressing every bit of her smooth, dark brown skin. She was moaning for me and wriggling away. The conflict ran deeper than the darkness around us as she scooted up the headboard.
I laughed under my breath. “One more kiss?”
Her fingers brushed over my beard, and she tugged me down.
What started soft, spiraled fast. Hungry and hot, her lips parted mine and her thighs brushed my hips.
She was ready to consent to round whatever this was.
An internal battle, though, came out in the way her breath caught in her chest, her breasts heaving, heavy and sexy against me.
She kissed me with a sleepy greed, slow but insistent, making my damn mind hum.
Was I getting some, or what?
She pulled back, her forehead resting against mine.
She looped her finger into the wedding band on my gold chain and murmured, “I’m so in love with you.
You already have almost all the degrees between us.
Stop kissing me like you have a degree in pleasure, sir.
I’m exhausted. My soul is exhausted. My lashes are exhausted. ”
“So …?”
“Good night, Judge Babineaux.”
“There you go, using titles against me again. This time I can’t even get more of your good loving on a technicality: you knowing my name for once.”
“No, you cannot.” Another little yawn.
She drifted off, talking about how we should schedule sex-a-thons every three months, for the calories. That talk was dangerous. I climbed out of bed before my self-control filed for reparations.
I grabbed my phone, nothing but meaningless notifications. Nothing from Texas, who clearly left my text on read this afternoon. Not a surprise.
“Funny, Madison called me a stalker. My bébé was prophetic.” As I tugged on a pair of sweats from my walk-in closet, I tapped into another app.
Aside from placing that AirTag in his pocket during dinner, I’d also placed a little gift in that fat wad of cash I gave him.
The damn thing was smaller than a communion wafer.
Found it online. Not sure if it was legal.
The shipping and handling price tag cost more than the little contraption; that couldn’t be legal.
Thank you, little brotha. In sharp threads, bald head shining, and ready to search these streets, I imagined myself as Shaft.
Location found.
I finished dressing and dialed Momma while sitting on the chair next to my shoe closet. If she answered, she was up praying. If she didn’t, she was sleeping well after seeing his trifling ass.
She answered, voice an echo of her tears. “He-hello?”
“Momma, you’re on your knees, I bet?”
“Praying for Texas since March, bébé. Do I need to pray for you?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Madison’s with you!”
I yanked the phone away as she launched into a full Sunday service.
There was an entire praise break, scriptures, and a reminder to get my oil changed.
When she paused to breathe, I spoke. “Listen, you’re gonna get that church wedding for me and Maddy.
For real. And I’m bringing Texas home sooner than you think. ”
“You are?” Her voice lifted, hopeful, warm, and excited. Momma’s hope was my love language.
I glanced at the blinking red dot that showed my brother’s location. “Yes, ma’am. I got you, bébé.”
After we hung up, I grabbed my keys and followed the little dot straight to my brother. Before my Rover slid to the curb, I muttered, “This man owes me money.”
Dude’s hideaway was a Victorian family home nestled in the West End. Less than twenty minutes from my spot in Algiers. Who was this man?
I banged on the door. “Tex! Texas, wake your ass up!”
The door snatched open, and my brother glared at me, dressed in jeans and a designer tee that cost more than some of the suit jackets in my closet. I’d worn the same one in navy blue on date night. He’d had his dreads tightened in a new style. What in the Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde was going on?
“How did you find me?” His voice was tight enough to tune a guitar. He peered outside before letting me in, then locked the door with the energy of a man who trusted no one.
I sank onto a khaki couch, casing the place like I might return later with glass cutters, a black turtleneck, and a heist plan. The place was clean.
Serial killer clean. As if he dusted the floorboards every Saturday to prepare for another victim.
My brow lifted. “Nice place. You renting? You own? Do you got a whole-ass family Momma doesn’t know about? If so, I may lower my voice!”
He pulled a gun from his back pocket and put it on the mirrored coffee table, then sat on the loveseat across from me. “You want some cognac while you explain how you found me. I’ma need details.”
I shrugged, glaring at the gun. “ Is that supposed to put me on my best behavior?”
“Nah, fool. Drink?”
I nodded. “No cheap crap.”
“The best. Trust me.” He slapped his hands onto his knees, then sat forward and opened a compartment of his mirror table. Impressive. He pulled out two glasses and poured us both cognacs, then handed one over.
I drank, brain doing a factory reset. The only remaining file read, Damn, that’s good.
“Bruh, you speechless?” Texas chuckled, watching me as if I might ascend.
Yeah. I could hear angels singing. But would I admit it? “It’s aight.”
“How did you find me, Washington?”
I sipped my drink down. Poured myself more, then took a sip of that too before I spoke. “Momma’s at home crying her eyes out every night.”
“Whatchu mean she’s crying? You didn’t tell her you saw me?
” He forced the words through snarled lips.
“I went to Madison’s house, knowing damn well she’d snitch.
By the time y’all got there, I figured you’d have your heads on straight.
You’d think logically enough to tell Momma I was fine! You should’ve told her what I said.”
“What did you say?”
“That I needed time alone.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“So, you didn’t do nothing? You wouldn’t lie for me?
I came over there looking like Booboo the Fool on purpose.
Like I’d just tucked and rolled through all the potholes in Crescent City.
Why would you want Momma to see me like that with your dumb ass?
You should’ve told Momma that I was working on myself.
Bring her casseroles. Do something, damn! ”
Oh, so I’m dumb for not understanding his malfunction?
And when had he said he needed time alone?
Laughter ripped from my lips as I settled back and took another sip.
“Funny, I almost had a couple of buddies bring you down to the station like they did with Maddy. Have this conversation in a different setting.” I waved my glass around.
“Because this whole situation is funny. My soon-to-be wife again is at home, warm and soft and waiting for me.” Was it necessary for him to know that she was asleep? Nope. Nah.
“But this right here, Texas, it’s an entire comedy show.
” As I waited for him to get over his audacity of feeling betrayed because I hadn’t lied to Momma, I regaled him with how Madison had sat in the interrogation room months ago.
I chuckled. “Nico Roman could turn that into an entire segment and run me a couple of dollars.”
“You got jokes.”
“Yep. Jokes for days. Let’s be serious. Momma’s at home crying.
If we went the whole interrogation route at the NOPD, they may come up with something that I can’t help you with.
That I’d have to recuse myself from.” My innocent palms rose.
“Matter of fact, I’m confident I switched from corporate law to juvenile law so I could circumvent this.
Whatever this is … with this nice home and damn good cognac. ”
He shifted in his seat, not taking a sip of his drink. Evasion. Classic Texas Falsehood #4. My brother only did that when he was lying or trying to hide the truth under two hundred pounds of attitude.
I pulled out my phone. “Okay, I’m about to push this address out in a family text message, and I mean not just our brothers. Momma, Auntie Peaches. Are you living off some geriatric sugar mama?”