Page 8 of Slay


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Maeme shook her head. “A man who will lay his hand on a woman as sweet as you deserves a bullet in his head. Now, come on and let me tend to you.”

Rumor walked inside, and Maeme looked back at me, then nodded her head once.

My job was done.

• five •

“I’d dug myself a deep one by running.”

Rumor

From the way King had spoken of his grandmother and the house he had grown up in, I’d expected something smaller…and more farm-like. This was not a farmhouse. Well, maybe in one of those Home & Gardens magazines, but not in real life. The house wasn’t even decorated like a grandmother. Sure, there were photographs on the walls, and it had a homey, lived-in feeling, but in an elaborate interior-decorator way.

“King, put her suitcase in the blue room,” Maeme instructed him. “I’ll bring her up there in a moment to check on her injuries. The others should be here in about ten minutes or so for dinner. You just make sure everyone waits on us in the dining room and stays out of the pudding.”

The others? What others? King hadn’t said a thing about others. My eyes swung to see him walking toward the staircase. He didn’t turn around and look back at me. He hadn’t mentioned others. I’d thought this would be a hidden place I could stay until he could get me to a bus station.

“I, uh, there is no need to take my suitcase upstairs,” I blurted. “I wasn’t going to intrude. King said we were coming here to eat while the traffic was heavy. Then, he’d take me to a bus station.”

Maeme’s eyebrows rose, and her hands went to her hips. The petite woman looked surprisingly intimidating. Her short platinum bob was elegant, just as was her delicate bone structure. She was an attractive woman that I would guess was in her mid-seventies. Since King looked to be around thirty and she was his grandmother, I couldn’t imagine she was still in her sixties, although she could pass for it. Her cornflower-blue eyes were nowhere near the intense color of King’s, but they were lovely just the same.

“In your condition? No. That will not be what happens. Someone has hurt you. I can see it clear as day. You will stay here and let me help you heal. Tomorrow, after a good night’s rest and a full belly, you can tell me exactly why you’re running, and I will fix it,” she informed me.

Her blue eyes narrowed as if there was no room for argument. But she had no idea what she was asking. I could not bring what could possibly be coming for me to her doorstep.

“Don’t argue with her,” King told me from the staircase.

I swung my gaze to his, pleading silently for his help with this.

He shrugged and nodded his head toward his grandmother. “When Maeme says she will fix it, she does.”

“You promised,” I argued.

The corner of his lips curled up. “Don’t believe every pretty face you meet, sweets. You should know by now, that’s a terrible fucking idea.”

“King Chasen Salazar!” Maeme snapped angrily.

“Sorry,” he replied obediently, but the glint in his eyes said no such thing.

Realizing I’d lost what I thought was my way out of here, I decided to turn back to Maeme. It was clear that she called all the shots.

“I have family in Louisiana,” I lied. I might have grown up in foster homes from Saint Helena Parish all the way down to Jefferson Parish, but there was no family for me there. It was just the only place I knew to go.

The way Maeme studied me felt as if she could read every lie out of my mouth. “Maybe so, but that family let you get in this kinda shape. Can’t say they’re doing their job. Family protects. You come on up those stairs with me. There’s a bathroom that will be all yours. I’m gonna see what we are dealing with under that shirt of yours, then let you get cleaned up and comfortable.” Then, she motioned for me to follow King up the stairs with a stern no arguments accepted stance.

I was angry with him. He’d fooled me, but he hadn’t hurt me. There was a difference. I followed King up the stairs. He didn’t say another word to me or even glance back in my direction. It was ridiculous to feel hurt by his betrayal when I had bigger problems. Real issues. But I was.

We stopped at the second floor and went to the first door on the right. King opened the door and walked inside. Maeme was directly behind me, and I had no choice but to go inside the room. Not surprisingly, it was a beautiful bedroom with a king-size canopy bed sitting in the middle of the room on a raised platform. I assumed she called it the blue room because the walls were paneled but painted a soft blue. The bedding was a crisp white, as was the chiffon draped over the canopy. The windows had matching chiffon curtains that pooled on the floor. A white antique dresser and dressing table sat on opposite walls, and a lovely blue-and-white striped chaise lounge chair with a fluffy blue throw over the back of it sat in a corner with a floor lamp made of crystals to its side.

“Put her suitcase on the luggage rack in the closet,” Maeme told King. “Then get downstairs before the boys arrive.”

The boys? The others were boys? Something else King hadn’t told me. I should assume from here on out that everything he’d said was a lie.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, opening the door on the left wall and walking inside, then turning on a light.

I could see from here it was a large walk-in closet.

“The bathroom is this way,” she informed me, walking to the door on the opposite side of the room and opening it. “Come on in here and show me what else has been done to you. I have supplies to ease the pain and some medicine that’ll help too. Just need to know what we are dealing with. Might require a doctor.”

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