Intensity Read online

  Donny laughed along with him while nodding, “Sí, hombre. Está muy buena.”

  “So you see,” Antonio took a step forward, “I understand what you’re feeling.” Without warning, his hand shot forward gripping the cop by the roots of his light brown hair, snatching his neck back until he shouted in pain. “But the next time you put your hands on her be it as gentle as a lover or simply because she has a speck of dust on her, I will break your fingers knuckle by knuckle. You can do your job, Dumas, but remember you work for me, too. Any punishment the force can hand you does not compare to what I’ll do if you cross me, understood?”

  As best he could with Antonio’s hand locked in his hair, Wes agreed. With a jerk, he let him go, signaling to Donny with his eyes. Antonio was the first to walk away while Don stood back and kept watch. Only when he was outside of those doors did his man join him, jogging to catch up.

  “Are you fucking crazy, Tonito?”

  “No more than you’re aware of. Why do you ask?”

  Donny stopped, grabbing his cousin by the shoulders in a way no one else that wasn’t family would dare, “Not only did you assault an officer; you didn’t even bother to see if the bastard was wired. All those people saw you deck that asshole back there. We live in the social media era.”

  As if those words were that amusing, there was a smile followed by a careless shrug,

  “As I said, Donny, he knows better. I’m lining his pockets and have evidence that I have been for a long time. If I go down, so does he and he knows that.”

  Antonio tried to walk off again but was stilled once more, “What about the girl? Normally I won’t question a move you make, but this shit has downfall written all over it. I’m not the only one who sees it. The original plan was to put a bullet in her brain, but almost a year later we’re here with you doing a lot of extra shit like threatening that cabŕon to let him know she’s yours indirectly.”

  “You sound like a worried wife, Donny.”

  “As long as I get through your thick ass skull, I don’t give a shit how I sound. Seriously, I’m asking you this as a man and your friend—do you have feelings for her?”

  “No.” There wasn’t the slightest bit of hesitation or indication that he had to think about it. A reply so quickly would have been a red flag to anyone else, but Antonio’s men knew him well. They knew that when he meant something, there wasn’t anything to think about or cause to prolong a response.

  Satisfied, Donny smiled for the first time since they were inside the club.

  “Good. I’m telling you, hombre; this girl is a means to an end. You know Kash is vocal about not being into black girls, but even he was staring at her when she walked in. Do whatever it is you have in mind and end it.”

  With the best smile he could muster, Antonio faked amusement, but behind his lips, his teeth clenched. Lying came easy in most instances, but that wasn’t one of those times. As a man of power and status, he would never allow anyone—not even those closest to him—to see a weakness, and truthfully, Kya was becoming one. The idea of Wes Dumas or even his men looking and lusting after her set his blood on fire.

  There was just something about his enemy’s daughter that intrigued him. Spoke to him in ways no other woman had ever and until he knew what that something was, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. He would never tell Donny and never really admit it to himself, but he wasn’t making threats and false claims that she was his. After that kiss, she was his.

  Since the nurse came to check her vitals, Kya had been drifting in and out of sleep. When the TV was turned on, and by whom, she didn’t know but cursed the person that was determined to make her suffer through early morning gossip. Prying a single eye open in search of the remote, she found a thin crystal vase and bright red roses, instead. The sun beaming through it was blinding. The rainbow of light infuriated the throbbing in her head causing her to groan. Using the back of her hand fitted with an IV, she sluggishly raised her fingers to block the sun's rays as she rubbed one of the petals.

  “Sources say, Antonio Cortes, holder of the number-two spot on our Wealthy Bachelor list, was seen locked in an intimate embrace with an unknown woman before a fight broke out...”

  Kya turned back to the TV just in time to see what looked like a professional picture of her mystery man, candidly walking away from a construction site.

  “This tea gets even better! Guns were drawn! One distraught partygoer says that rather than letting his entourage take care of the situation, the celebrity contractor credited for designing and building homes for numerous A-Listers, had one of his men tend to his injured lady friend outside while he defended her with a beatdown. We haven’t been able to obtain an official police report, yet, or identify this woman. One thing we can be sure of is that this one will probably be off that list soon."

  Antonio Cortes.

  Kya let that name roll around her mind then tested it out with a whisper. Her eyes went back to the roses as it hit her. He had been there sometime while she slept.

  Antonio Cortes, a celebrity contractor.

  According to gossip garbage, her savior.

  Faint memories of him hovering over her during the ride to the hospital entered her mind. Angel shouting in Spanish, some guy trying to calm her, and a gentle response, directed more toward her than her friend. He held her in his lap and caressed her cheek sweetly. He said something in her ear as her consciousness slipped away. Next thing she knew, a little old lady was shaking her awake and asking questions she couldn’t remember. Now alert, Kya had questions of her own about what was real and what wasn’t.

  Why would a celebrity contractor want her? Come to her mother’s funeral and care to console her?

  Taps on the door ensued before it opened. With it was more light causing Kya to shy away. Once she heard an audible, she turned to the man slowly moving toward her bed.

  After all those years, he still looked the same. His head was lacking hair while his jaw was covered with it. Lines around his eyes were the only sign of the time that passed. The time that had gone by without him.

  “Hello, Kya.”

  Seeing him face to face and hearing his voice did not mesh with the way she imagined that moment. She was angry, no doubt, but thought herself to be strong enough to withhold her emotions and as Angel suggested, not let him know that the pain was still present.

  When she failed to respond, Robert cleared his throat and continued, “I heard you were here and wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”

  A small snort bubbled into giggles then deep laughter.

  “You came here to check on me? You?!” The laughter increased, almost becoming hysterical. “My mother—your wife—passed away months ago. I couldn’t get a one-dollar sympathy card from you, but I hit my head, and suddenly you’re here to kiss my boo-boo?” The harder she laughed, the more her head throbbed.

  Robert closed the distance between them, standing at the foot of her bed with an expression as severe as the head injury she obtained.

  “I know you’re mad at me, Kya. You have every right to be. I wasn’t there for you like I should have been, but that doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.”

  “Bullshit.” The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced with the same tone he used, but lacking emotion as she struggled to sit up. “Sorry would have brought you home when you heard the woman you took vows with, was sick, that she was dying, or when you knew that I had no one else in this world but you!”

  “And you would have accepted me back? Would either of you have welcomed me with open arms if I’d come back after I walked out that door?”

  “I wouldn’t have,” she retorted, “but Ma would’ve. She never stopped loving you and never gave up hope that you’d find your way back to us. Even in her last days, she had faith, and you deserved none of it. So, let’s be real about this. Why are you really here?—because I don’t believe for one second that you heard about me suddenly started caring.”

  Robert sighed and rubbed his eyes.

>   “Kya, I—”

  She raised her hand successfully silencing him, “All I want is the truth and not excuses for the past. Why are you here, right now?”

  “There’s a dangerous man that I believe is after you. He goes by many names.”

  “You can’t be serious—”

  “Antonio Cortes is his true name. I don’t know if you remember my old partner, Lowell, but he killed him, Kya. He was barely a teenager and was a killer. That’s why I had to leave you and your mother. I was going after him with everything I had, and I didn’t want to lead him back to you.”

  Just like before, Kya held up her hands, but this time in mock surrender.

  “So, you’re saying you abandoned us to protect us from someone who is supposedly after me anyway?”

  Whether it was meant to or not, those words hurt. Finally knowing why things happened the way they did, didn't help in the least. It was not the beginning to heal her wounds as shrinks would suggest. He’d left them high and dry to struggle for something that did not pay off. Now, he was there trying to reason with her without an ounce of remorse for his error.

  On top of that, he was making as much sense as beach trips on a rainy day. If the man he spoke of—the man that was on TV with amazing titles behind his name was the dangerous killer he deemed him, then why wasn’t that mentioned in the gossip report? Those leeches loved anything they considered juicy. Replacing high praise that labeled Antonio a man to be desired, would be bashed and someone to be feared. Better yet, why hadn't she felt that emotion when he held her hand, pulled her close, and allowed a kiss that still coated her lips with pleasant tingles?

  Being naive when it came to a man wasn’t in Kya’s genetic makeup. That was the reason she could not willingly accept her father back into her world and why she would not dispute nor accept his claim.

  “Baby girl?”

  “You can go, now.”

  Robert's face spoke for itself. He was taken aback by the hard edge in her voice, coolness to her tone and the harshness in her eyes.

  “I wish I could say that I appreciate this visit, but we both know that you didn’t do it out of the kindness of your heart. Your purpose was to put that bug in my ear in hopes that I would run to you the first time this guy is within breathing distance of me, but I won’t.”

  “Kya, you don’t understand. I came to you because everything I say is true. He wouldn’t think twice about killing you as long as it meant he could destroy me.”

  “And if that is truly the case, the joke is on him. I stopped being a means to destroy you the moment he became your top priority.” She maintained eye contact as her hand trailed across the sheets for the controls to call the nurse.

  “Is everything alright, Ms. Rich?”

  “No,” she spoke directly into the device, “my head is killing me, and there is an unwanted guest in my room. Could you please send someone to escort him out?”

  “Alright Ma’am, I’ll be up with something for the pain momentarily, and security is on the way.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Robert backed away from the bed just as she released the button and tucked the remote back into the corner of her bed. He turned his back to retreat, stopping just short of the door to face her one last time. “I can see that it’s either too soon or too late to mend this fence, but I’m begging you, Kya. I heard he was at the same club you were last night, so there is no doubt he’s up to something. From this point on, if you ever find yourself in the same room with this man, don’t fall victim to his manipulation or be swayed by his charm and money. Run.”

  Once her father was gone, Kya fell back into the pillow and pulled the sheets over her face. She did not want to believe a word he said, but to deny that the plausibility was to walk blindly into the night. Antonio himself told her he was “the bad guy.” He said it as if it were the most casual thing in the world. The fact that he had come to her out of the blue was something else that worked in her father’s favor.

  As much as she wanted to think that the man only wanted to see her miserable, the proof was in the pudding. Antonio Cortes may be some most wanted bachelor, but there was another side to him. One that wasn’t clear when he was in her presence so sweet and seductively. If that was a part of the game he was supposedly playing with her father, things were going to have to change. Tables were going to be turned before she considered running.

  FOUR

  Two days. It had been two long days since being released from the hospital, and Kya already had enough. The walls of her apartment were just as dull as daytime television, each storyline as bland as the hospital food she gladly left behind. Although non-life threatening, the head injury she sustained still required time to heal and relax.

  Printed with her discharge papers were strict instructions to avoid stressful situations. That meant no work and no interactions with her father. Once he left her room, Kya was unable to think of anything but Antonio until she fell into a deep sleep, once again interrupted by a nurse. To her surprise, when her eyes opened, there was a second bouquet of roses beside the first. For a moment, Kya stared at it in disbelief. He couldn’t have come again. Why would he come back?

  Against her will, her father’s reasoning lessened the butterflies and filled her heart with a painful notion. If Antonio was going all out with the roses to get back at her father, then she was nothing more than a pawn to him. Just an expendable piece in a game that should have nothing to do with her, but now, had everything to do with her. She didn’t like it. She wouldn’t accept it and tried to force him out of her mind more times than she could count.

  Giving up on TV, Kya stared absently at the screen of her phone unable to avoid the thoughts of him. She debated the idea then ultimately decided a search of her own was necessary. Entering his name, she hesitated to press the button that could reveal all, proving her father right and the strange feelings that wouldn’t allow her to believe him, wrong.

  Kya tapped the button lightly and looked away. She promised herself that she would take her finding for what it was and make no excuses for Antonio nor her father. As the screen filled with link after link, headlines, gossip, images of him and the homes he designed, the feeling became overwhelming. Suddenly she wasn’t sure the truth was something she could handle. In all honesty, Antonio brought something to her life that had been missing since she learned of her mother’s illness. With him came mystery and excitement that made her world less grey. One sentence alone could take that all away.

  Her insides twisted into knots as she scrolled through the search results. A quick glance over the first page, she breathed a sigh and moved on to the next page. Seeing nothing there or on the following pages, brought about relief and confidence. However, it did not sweep away the question of why he came to her.

  On an unofficial biography page, Kya read all the available details about his childhood. There were little things like an accident that almost cut his life short and significant matters such as the prison sentence of his former Kingpin father, Javier Cortes. Most of the text gushed over Antonio’s determination to become great despite growing up without a father and in a house full of women.

  On a hunch, Kya pulled up a new window on her phone entering his father’s name. Of course, the results were drastically different. She had no interest in knowing anything about the man until another name caught her eye. Immediately she swiped the screen, pulling up the full article. Skimming the lines, she located the part about Robert, reading slowly and carefully.

  “In a press conference held Sunday afternoon, Police Chief Vernon Oakley denied all claims that one of his officers attempted to frame a minor for the murder of his partner. The wife of a notorious drug lord, Javier Cortes, said Officer Robert Rich interrogated her for hours and at times, used vulgar language toward her fourteen-year-old son to force a confession. She also claimed that the department told them that they had evidence proving the boy was the killer.

  A week prior, Officer Lowell O’Leary was killed in an
attempted drug raid south of the city, in which there were no witnesses other than the officers on the scene–including Rich. An initial report from Chief Oakley indicated that there were no actual witnesses to the shooting, leaving many to question Rich’s actions. The death of O’Leary comes nearly a decade after the conviction of Javier Cortes. Both officers were celebrated for what was deemed the ‘takedown of the century.’ While the department continues to stand behind Officer Rich and stress that the teen is not a suspect, outrage over the boy’s treatment continues”

  That changed everything. Confusion turned into anger the second time she read it. Her father stood at the end of her hospital bed with his claims and conveniently forgot to mention the apparent vendetta. Making matters worse, the article was dated just a week before he left home and never returned.

  Tossing her phone to the side, Kya pushed off of her sofa heading for the shower. If she stayed in her apartment one more minute, there was no doubt she’d try to dig further into Antonio’s past as if that would provide the answers to her questions. To get those answers, she would have to encounter the man, and if he were indeed after her, he’d know exactly where to find her.

  And she would be waiting.

  “I thought your ass was supposed to be home resting.”

  It was more of a statement than a question, greeting Kya the moment she stepped behind the bar where Angel leaned on her elbows. Their boss, Jermaine, sat on the other side, an expression of disapproval.

  “My ass was tired of sitting around, so I’m here.”

  The last part, she intended for the man in charge of payroll. He nodded at first, sipping from the glass Angel slid to him. He wasn’t the friendliest of people. Not since he stopped her on the street one day with a bright smile inviting her to check out the lounge he owned a few blocks over. In checking it out, he meant to apply for a job. Due to the medical bills rolling in faster than her paychecks as a seamstress, she hopped on the opportunity to have a second source of income.