CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“That’s him now.”

“Where was he?”

MaKayla was on the phone with Gemma. “He was called out on a domestic violence case. One of his friends from high school is apparently the victim.”

“A female?”

MaKayla was upstairs in the master bedroom. She stood in the doorjamb of the open French doors that led onto the balcony and allowed the night air to slink through Brent’s thin dress shirt she wore. “From what I heard, and I wasn’t listening to his phone conversation like that, I think I assumed it was a female. Somebody named Zippy or Zibby or some nickname like that.”

“How’s he handling everything, Kayla? With you I mean.”

MaKayla could hear the front door open and close and then Brent walking up the stairs. “I honestly don’t think he’s handling it at all. I think he’s just trying to find a way to get me out of it. Then he’d deal with it later.”

“Sounds Gabrini men familiar,” said Gemma.

“Sinatra men familiar too,” MaKayla said as Brent entered their bedroom. “Hey, babe,” she said to him.

“Hey,” he responded with no feeling behind the word, which wasn’t all that unusual for Brent, and he proceeded into the bathroom.

“He didn’t sound very thrilled to be home,” Gemma said over the phone.

“Nothing to be thrilled about these days,” MaKayla responded as Brent turned on the shower water.

“MaKayla, come here!” he yelled out over the sound of water.

“Okay!” MaKayla yelled back. “Listen, Gem, I’ve got to go. But I just want to thank you and Sal and Reno again for putting your own lives and businesses on hold to come up here and help me. Brent and I truly appreciate it.”

“You’re thanking Reno too?”

MaKayla laughed. “Yes, I am. He’s extra. And Trina’s probably the only woman in the world that can take him in large doses. But he looks out for family. He looks out for his own. I can’t disrespect a man who does that.”

“I agree,” said Gemma, and they ended the call.

MaKayla made her way into the bathroom. “What’s up?” she asked. But when she saw that Brent was already under the water tap, and had opened the shower door for her to join him, she didn’t hesitate. She sat her phone on the vanity, removed the shirt she wore, and got in the shower with him.

He closed the door, wrapped her in his arms, and began kissing her in that hard, desperate way she understood. The stress they both were carrying around was daunting, and she knew Brent was bearing the bulk of her burdens too. Even the way he massaged her between her legs, though sensual in its stress-relieving, was hard too.

But when he slammed her front against the shower wall and entered her with an unusually fierce thrust that made her cry out, and when he began pounding her with an unusual amount of ferociousness, a hard lovemaking session began to turn hardcore.

It was sexy to MaKayla, and it felt good because it was Brent doing her. But it felt painful too. Because she knew it was too aggressive, as if he needed to get everything negative out of his system all at once by pounding it out and into her. No love was in their coupling. No affection. Just a massive itch that needed to be scratched and her body was the scratcher he chose to do the job.

It didn’t last very long. That kind of lovemaking never did. And within a few minutes, Brent was cumming hard. He lifted her butt cheeks, to pound her even harder, as he grunted and groaned his way through those last seconds.

But as soon as he poured out, and before he could lean against her, she forced him out of her by getting out of that shower.

She cleaned up at the sink, grabbed her phone, and took herself to bed.

Tears dropped from her eyes as she laid there, but she refused to let him see her cry. She wiped those tears away and wouldn’t allow them to return by the time he made it out of the bathroom and got in bed beside her.

Both were on their backs. Both were staring up at the high ceiling. And after several minutes, MaKayla spoke.

She could be forgiving because she knew he was going through hell, especially when he discovered she had met with Alvin Clayton in that hotel suite before his murder. It was innocent and completely work-related, and she was certain Brent knew that, but the fact that she hung out with him in that suite to talk about their marriage still had to hurt. “How did the DV case turn out?”

“Messy,” Brent said. “But listen, MaKayla, I shouldn’t have . . . I didn’t mean to be so aggressive in that shower.”

“Yes, you did,” MaKayla responded. “But I understood why.”

Brent turned on his side and looked at her. She turned on her side and looked at him. “That’s not you. That’s why I didn’t stop you. I knew you needed to get that out of your system, and was going to get it out one way or another. It may as well have been through me. But because I understood what you were doing, that doesn’t mean it was a good reason for you to do that.”

Brent’s heart swelled with emotion. “I’m so sorry. You’re the last person on earth I want to hurt. There’s no excuse.”

“I agree,” she said as she ran her hand through his thick hair. “And like I said, that wasn’t you. But try that shit again and I’ll kick your ass into your throat.”

Her sense of humor caught Brent so off guard that he couldn’t help but smile that rare smile. MaKayla, loving and knowing that Brent, smiled too. And she ran her hand through his hair again. “Even saints aren’t perfect,” she said.

Then her look turned serious. “I want to apologize for staying in that hotel suite with Alvin longer than I should have. The girl wasn’t there when we got there. I should have left as soon as I knew she wasn’t there.”

“You were upset, Kayla. You needed somebody to talk to.”

“Had I known what was going to happen the very next day, I would never have---”

“I know you wouldn’t have. I know,” he said and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, and they held onto each other.

Like seemingly all of the Sinatra and Gabrini marriages, love was mighty in their marriage. And turmoil was mighty in it too.

“What about that domestic violence call? You said it was messy. What was messy about it?”

Brent didn’t want to tell MaKayla. He felt she had enough to worry about. But it was related to her situation too. “It was the second DV call I handled this week involving the same house on Norris Avenue.”

“I heard Doke say something about your friend from high school was involved. Zippy or--”

“Zibby,” said Brent. “Zepena Palance is her name, but everybody calls her Zibby. So I went over there. Her boyfriend was trying to beat her up, but we stopped him in the act again. But this time it just seemed staged to me because he was just about to hit her when I bust into the house the same way it happened the first time I was called over there. So I called them out on it. She didn’t press charges before. What was going on here? The guy immediately caved, which forced Zibby to admit the truth too. Some guy promised to feed their drug habit if Zibby could get me in my truck long enough so that she could claim I raped her.”

MaKayla was shocked. “ What ? She didn’t do it?”

“No. She never got in my truck. Besides, two patrolmen were there, too, with their body cams on and recording, when they made their confessions. They both were arrested for lying to an officer on the DV matter, but more charges could be pending.”

“But did she say who the guy that was feeding their drug habit was or what he looked like?”

Brent shook his head. “She said he looked like a regular guy to her. White, tall, big. She couldn’t give any firm details. She just wanted the money, she said. She didn’t care what he looked like.”

MaKayla shook her head. “Whoever’s behind this is pulling out all the stops. But why?”

“The zillion dollar question,” Brent said, and then he pulled her closer and kissed her again. And the conversation ended there.

But a half-hour later, as they both were dozing off, MaKayla’s phone began ringing. Because it could be Gemma with some court news or case strategy news, Makayla didn’t bother to look at the Caller ID. But it was only Ashley.

She put the call on Speaker. “Hey Ash. Getting tired of those kids?”

“Never,” Ashley said. “I was just checking on you. Carly said she talked with you earlier tonight and you didn’t sound so great. And then I talked with Donnie and he told me what happened with him. I said whoa. This shit getting real.”

It was already real for MaKayla and Brent. That was why Brent rolled his eyes. Leave it to Ashley to find everything lighthearted.

“Thanks for calling, Ash,” MaKayla said. “But I’m doing great. Just wish I’d never been anywhere near 1498. That’s for damn sure.”

“1498?”

“Oh, I forgot. You aren’t intrinsically involved in this craziness the way we have to be. But it’s the room number at The Hayton Hotel where Judge Clayton was found murdered, and where I was found with the body.”

“Wow.That’s weird.”

“Weird isn’t the word I’d use. Horrifying is the word.”

“No I mean the number.”

“What about the number?”

“It’s weird because that was me and Donnie’s apartment number.”

Brent and MaKayla looked at each other. “Your apartment number?” Brent asked.

“Yeah. You guys never came to visit us because we didn’t stay there very long. But 1498 was our apartment number. It’s weird because they kidnapped Donnie, and Donnie lived in 1498 with me. And now you’re saying 1498 was the suite number when that judge was found. And where you were found with that judge.”

“Are you certain it was 1498?” MaKayla asked her.

“I’m positive,” said Ashley. “I remember my apartment number. You can ask Donnie.”

Brent snatched the phone from MaKayla. “Is Frankie there?”

“Yes, he’s home.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Okay, hold on.”

While they waited, they looked at each other. “That’s a hell of a coincidence,” MaKayla said. “Judge Clayton killed in room 1498. I’m attacked in room 1498. Donnie and Ash shared apartment 1498. That’s a lot.”

Mob boss Frankie “The Monk” Paletti, Ashley’s husband, came on the phone. “What up, Brent?”

“Put everybody on lockdown, Frankie. No exceptions.”

“Why?What’s wrong?”

“There may be a connection between what’s happening here in Jericho and Ashley. They’ve already roped Donnie in it. And usually where there’s Donnie, Ashley isn’t far behind.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Two peas in a pod. But don’t worry on this end. I’m locking all this shit down right now.”

“It may be nothing,” said Brent, “but it just might bust this situation wide open. I’ll let you know,” he added, and they ended the call.

Brent and MaKayla both began getting out of bed. “Where to?” MaKayla asked.

“Call Donnie. Tell him we’re on our way to pick him up.”

MaKayla was on it before Brent finished talking. She was excited. She felt hopeful for the first time since her ordeal began.