“I can’t say. I got a call from one of my crew. Mrs. Steph, your son?—"
The wail came loudly as Bone quickly caught her. I looked at Johnni, waiting for her reaction when she just nodded, waiting for me to continue. I wasn’t sure how to take it.
“My God, is he okay?”
“We’re not sure. But until I know further, my job is to get you two to safety. With Johnni’s pageant’s being public knowledge, we’re in unguarded territory.”
“No.” We walked past the lounge, with Johnni stopping, crossing her arms and standing her ground. Mrs. Steph scoffed in disbelief.
“Johnni, he could be hurt. No… worse. We have to go.”
“I said no?—"
The sound of breaking news interrupted her mid-sentence as visions of the house she once called home flashed on the screen, flooded with CFPD and news reporters everywhere.
“This just in, Congressman Quincey Wilson was involved in a shooting, leaving one person dead. That story is still developing on the scene. Wilson is also making headlines today alongside his father Quentin Wilson who is a former congressional member with chilling evidence of corruption, blackmail, and extortion. There are also pictures and emails that might suggest a secret love affair with former Senate member Tim Rodgers and his son, Quincey, dating back years. If you remember late last year, Rodgers also was mentioned for similar crimes that later led to him resigning and led to his arrest earlier this year. Wilson was set to appear on that ballot during the special election, projected to fill that slot. We’re not sure if the similar crimes are connected between the two. Now, it’s too early to know if Wilson will still appear on the ballot. We will keep you posted as that story unfolds as well.”
“Johnni, what? Umm…” Mrs. Steph cleared her throat before speaking again. She was the only person who could form words as Johnni just stood there still. If her chest wasn’t moving up and down, I wouldn’t have known she was breathing.
“We’re heading up to get our things. Johnni, let’s go, dear.” Without a word, she fell in line, grabbing Mrs. Steph’s hand and going toward the elevators.
“Wow, that’s some shit to find out with the rest of the world,” Bone said before following them.
“Yeah,” I said lowly, but something told me Johnni knew her husband very well. This wasn’t news to her.
We gotto the hospital where Najee was standing outside of Quincey’s hospital room along with Jury.
While Mrs. Steph rushed into the room, Johnni hung back, stopping in front of Jury.
“Jury, thank you for today, with protecting Quincey.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Who was it that shot him? Was it Rodgers?”
“No, ma’am, a woman. But don’t worry, I took her down.” I frowned while Lourdè accepted it, heading into the room with me standing close by until I heard a male’s voice yelling at her.
“This is all your gotdamn fault. I told my son you were trash from the beginning and would destroy his life and career.”
“Excuse me? How is this my fault? I didn’t shoot him.”
“Humph… might as well. My boy wouldn’t be laying here if you knew how to be a proper wife and kept him satisfied at home instead of prancing around on them fucking stages like a child.” I walked in to see Mrs. Steph standing between the two with her hand on his chest. I took one look at him and knew this was his damn daddy.
“This has nothing to do with me, Quentin. This is your son’s doing. As you know, I didn’t make any decisions regarding my own life. No, that’s his job along with yours. Maybe if you taught him to be a real man and to be proud of who he is, Q wouldn’t feel the need to run around still playing in closets that his daddy couldn’t see in.” When he lunged, I slid Lourdè out of the way.
“Yeah, wrong move.” He was slow to speak as he looked me up and down.
“This is a private family matter. No need for hired help, right now,” he snarled, as if I was supposed to back down. I smirked as I pushed my arm around Johnni in a securing position. Wasn’t shit getting past me, not even this clown ass muthafucka.
“Exactly, and Johnni’s mine. So unless you want matching bracelets and a bed next to your fucking son, I advise you to rethink your next move and words when it comes to her.”
“I told my son you were fucking the help.” He chuckled, while my gun left my waist, making an appearance, causing Mrs. Steph to gasp. Quentin glared as his eyes bounced between me and the barrel staring him in his face as if he was contemplating testing me. I cocked it, letting him know I was serious.
“We can make it a toe tag, muthafucka. I promise you I’m a clean shot and you’re in the right place to take your last fucking breath.”
He pushed Mrs. Steph off his arm, making a dash for the door, mumbling something under his breath. Two police officers came flooding in, pushing him back.
I put my gun down.
