Chapter Twelve #2
The man on the couch scoffed as he told Jeanette to shut up. It was as if he knew Jeanette was about to blow up his plan. Lennox turned his head slowly toward him and the man went quiet.
Jeanette wiped her face with the sleeve of her cardigan. “I’ve been trying. I swear I have. I got into a program twice, but Daryl—”
Lane’s entire body stiffened at the mention of his name. Lennox knew it already—Daryl Hargrove, the man from the bathroom. The man from the night Lane left home was the same man still rotting in Jeanette’s life like the past had never learned to die.
Lane’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re still with the man that tried to hurt me then, and he’s likely responsible for trying to hurt me now!” Lane screamed.
Jeanette looked down, and her knees seemed to weaken. “I didn’t know how to get away.”
Lane stared at her. “You didn’t know how to get away?”
Daryl leaned forward indignantly. “This whole damn family is dramatic. Ain’t nobody do nothing to you, girl.”
Lane didn’t even look at him, but Lennox did. Jalen moved before Lennox had to. He stepped behind Daryl, gripped his shoulder, and forced him back against the couch with enough pressure to make him hiss.
“Quiet dirty ass nigga,” Jalen said.
Daryl quieted while Jeanette cried harder.
“He made me text you. He knew things. He knew where you were working with celebrities, and he was trying to find out where you lived. He said if I didn’t get you to pay, he’d tell everybody what you did back then.
He said he’d find a way to hurt you if you didn’t meet me. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”
Lane looked at her mother for a long time before letting her eyes shift to Lennox. She didn’t ask out loud; she didn’t have to—her eyes searched his to see if what she was saying was true. Lennox hated having to give Jeanette this much.
“She’s telling the truth,” he said, before continuing, “I traced the messages. The phrasing on several came from his device before they were forwarded through burner apps on hers. Daryl’s been controlling the accounts.
He’s got photos of her IDs, her program paperwork, debt records, threats. He was using both of you.”
Lane swallowed hard, and Lennox could tell she was warring internally with what she’d just learned.
“And him?” Lane asked, glancing at Daryl.
Lennox looked toward Daryl’s now pale face beneath the sweat shining on his forehead before answering, “He’s handled.”
Daryl’s head jerked up. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Lennox smiled wickedly, keeping his eyes on the dirtbag who’d hurt his lady. “He’ll be in police custody in about three minutes.”
Daryl hopped up, lunging for Lane. Jalen caught him by the back of his shirt and slammed him forward onto the couch arm before he made it a full step.
Jeanette screamed, but Lane didn’t. She knew he’d never make it to her before he or Jalen broke his neck.
Lennox walked to the window and looked down.
Right on time, two unmarked cars pulled into the lot behind the building.
A marked patrol unit followed, and Daryl started cursing.
Lennox turned back to Lane. “His car is downstairs with enough product in the trunk and under the back seat to make sure he doesn’t see freedom for a long time. That’s before the other charges.”
Lane’s eyes narrowed. “You planted drugs?”
“No.”
“Lennox.”
“I didn’t plant drugs.” His jaw tightened. “I found out where he kept what he was already moving and made sure the right people knew where to look.”
Daryl thrashed against Jalen’s hold. “You set me up!”
Lennox looked at him then. “No. I turned the lights on,” he shrugged as a hard knock came seconds later, hard enough to rattle the door.
Jalen dragged Daryl to the door. “Time’s up, bitch.”
The next few minutes blurred into motion.
Officers with warrants rushed the apartment, tackling Daryl to the ground as they cuffed him and dragged him to the hell he belonged in.
Lane was standing near the wall, as if her bones had gone hollow and her pride was the only thing keeping her upright.
Lennox didn’t touch her, though he wanted to.
He knew Lane needed some space to process.
When the officers took Daryl out, the apartment felt larger and worse. Jeanette sank onto the edge of the chair and sobbed. Lane stood in front of her, arms crossed, face unreadable.
“I wanted to call you,” Jeanette said. “So many times I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I wanted to get clean and come to you right. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
Lane’s voice was low. “You had my whole life to come to me. You had years, Jeanette. You were cruel to me my whole life. You looked at me like I was competition or something in your way. You let men come in and out of that apartment, let one of them corner me, then blamed me for it. You let me leave and never came back to look for me,” Lane said as the words cracked on the last part, and Lennox felt it like something had snapped inside him.
Lane kept going. “You didn’t know if I was safe. You didn’t know if I had shelter. You didn’t know if I had food. I was a child, and you didn’t even check whether I was alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeanette whispered.
“I know you are,” Lane shook her head, tears shining now but not falling, “But sorry doesn’t fix it.”
Jeanette reached for her and Lane stepped back, making Jeanette break down all over again. “I want to know you,” she sobbed. “Please. I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to know my daughter. I want to know the woman you became.”
Lane frowned at the insinuation. “You don’t get to know what you abandoned,” Lane said.
Jeanette bowed her head. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
The room went silent except for Jeanette’s crying and the faint traffic outside.
Lane wiped beneath one eye and breathed through whatever wanted to break in her.
She looked her mother in the face and spoke her truth, “If you really want to know me,” she said, “you’re going to have to fight for me this time. ”
Jeanette lifted her head.
Lane’s chin trembled once before she steadied it.
“You’re going to have to show up so much in my life that I can’t ignore the effort.
You’re going to call, text, write, send smoke signals.
Most importantly, you have to get clean and stay there, Jeanette.
Go to meetings and therapy so that you can stop choosing men who hurt you and everybody around you. ”
Jeanette nodded quickly. “I will, I promise I will.”
“Don’t promise me, just do it, ” Lane’s voice hardened.
Jeanette pressed a hand to her chest.
“And don’t confuse this with permission,” Lane added. “I’m not ready to know you, forgive you, or let you near my life.”
The hope in Jeanette’s face dimmed, but she nodded anyway. Lane looked at her mother, and Lennox saw the confusion in her. The daughter who needed to be wanted by her mother and the woman who knew that need could become a trap if she weren’t careful.
“Maybe,” Lane said, voice barely holding steady, “if you do the work and you show me over and over that this isn’t just guilt because Daryl got arrested, there could be hope for us, but for right now?” Lane shook her head. “No.”
Jeanette finally collapsed on the couch and cried as Lane turned toward the door.
Lennox moved with her immediately. Jalen stayed behind to handle the officers and the cleanup, knowing g Lennox needed to be there for Lane.
He gave Lennox one nod as they passed, and Lennox returned it before following Lane into the stairwell.
She made it to the car before her hands started shaking. Lennox opened the passenger door. Lane looked at him with her defenses high as the Burj Khalifa.
“Don’t,” she said, pulling away.
He didn’t ask why; he knew. Don’t touch me yet and don’t say the thing that’ll make me fall apart where I can’t control how much of me spills.
He nodded. “Okay.”
That word nearly did what his arms would’ve.
Lane got in as Lennox had Jalen call another member of their security team to come and get Lane’s car.
The quiet was deafening even before they pulled off, and the drive to KC and Cadence’s house was bruising.
Lennox didn’t turn on music or ask questions.
He didn’t tell her he was mad, though anger still lived hot beneath his skin.
He kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the console, close but not touching.
The best way for Lennox to support Lane in the moment was to be quiet and allow her to feel and process her emotions.
When they pulled up to Khalil and Cadence’s house, Lane finally turned. “Why are we here?”
“Because you need your people.”
“I didn’t ask for that.”
“No.” He put the car in park and looked at her. “I did.”
Her eyes flashed. “Lennox—”
“We’re still discussing what you did later.”
“What I did?”
“Yes, Lane.” His voice stayed low, but anger slipped through, controlled and restrained, shaking. “What you did.”
She looked away first, making him happy. Not because he wanted to win but if she kept looking at him like that, he might forget he was angry and start begging her not to scare him like that again.
Inside, Cadence took one look at them and stopped mid-sentence.
She stood in the kitchen with one hand resting on her belly, a glass of sparkling water in the other.
KC sat at the island with a plate of fruit and what looked like half a sandwich.
Nova was perched on a stool eating grapes straight from the bowl.
Tariq leaned against the counter with a ginger ale, clearly in the middle of saying something ignorant before the energy in the room snatched the joke out of his mouth.
KC rose first as he peeped Lennox’s body language. “What happened?” He asked.
Lane folded her arms. “Nothing.”
Lennox laughed. Not because it was funny, but because if he didn’t laugh, he might put his fist through KC’s very expensive wall.
Nova’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a nothing face.”
Cadence set her glass down. “Lane?”