Cursed

Chapter Eight

Tonight?

Adrienne’s breath caught. Was he serious? Or was the winking smiley face his way of saying he was joking?

She didn’t know him well enough to figure it out.

It was rush hour, which meant standing room only on the city bus. She was pressed between an overweight woman and another teen who looked like the gangbangers her father warned her about. She swayed with the bus and the passengers crammed in the tiny space. There was no way she could check her cards on the bus.

Lowering the iPad, she held onto the nearest pole tightly. The bus lurched to a stop then lurched again when it merged back onto the street.

Her heart was flying. She’d just had her first ever cheer practice, and the hottest guy at school wanted to come over to study.

Her senior year was going to be epic!

The bus reached her stop. Adrienne maneuvered her way through the crowd and emerged onto the street, grateful to be free of the confined space. She opened her bag to tuck her iPad into it and spotted the journal.

Does Jax love me?

It wasn’t a coincidence that she met a guy named Jax who knew her sister, and Therese had mentioned Jax in her journal.

Adrienne fingered the leather cover. Her eyes drifted upward, towards the alley whose entrance was open in the distance. It was around six, just before dark. She could look for Jax then still be home before her daddy.

Or maybe, before Jayden wanted to come over.

She tried hard not to smile, thrilled Jayden wanted something to do with her, even after learning she was poor. She tugged the iPad free and flipped it open then pulled up his email.

J-

Sure. ;-)

A.

She sent the response then closed the iPad, satisfied. Hopefully, her email was as confusing as his. If he was serious, he’d ask her address. If not, then she’d know for sure. Either way, she wouldn’t be stuck trying to figure out if he liked her or was just being nice.

Now onto her next mission: unraveling the last year of her late sister’s life.

Adrienne pulled out the journal and slung her backpack over her shoulder.

A dark-haired woman across the street caught her attention. She stood still, like a rock among a stream of moving people. Unlike most of the residents of the neighborhood, the woman was white, dressed in a white shirt that made her stand out even more. She seemed frozen in her spot on the sidewalk behind a black motorcycle.

She wasn’t alone, either. The Red Man hung back next to the wall, the rippling of his robes giving him the appearance of not being a part of this world.

Adrienne glanced once then looked back, pausing.

The Red Man was gone.

The woman seemed to be staring at her. She looked … trashed. Wasted or ill or something, with smeared make-up, glazed eyes and a blanched complexion.

Creepy. Adrienne started walking again. She looked back when she reached the entrance of the alley where she’d run into Jax twice already.

The woman was gone.

A shiver went through her despite the humid day.

Probably some druggie. Adrienne shrugged it off, not liking the sensation. She had something more important to think about – finding Jax.

Determined, she walked down the street to the alley and entered it for the third day in a row.

The same bums were in place beneath their shelters while Jax was nowhere to be seen. She started down the alley, glancing around to see where it was Jax came from the other two times. There were no doors or fire escapes within reach.

She turned halfway down the alley, surprised to see him between her and the entrance of the alley. Hooded and hunched, his face shadowed, like before.

He paused when she did, and fear made her stomach flutter. After a moment, she started towards him, hugging the journal with some trepidation. Her sister had cared about him. He couldn’t be that bad.

“I was looking for you,” she said.

“You shouldn’t,” came his smoky voice.

She paused. Even in full daylight, she sensed something otherworldly about him. It made the hair on her arms stand up on end. Maybe it was simply how quietly he moved or that he appeared whenever she thought of him.

“Are you following me?” she ventured.

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like I said.”

She frowned.

“What do you want?” he asked.

A little nervous and scared, she giggled. “You’re following me, but you want to know what I want?”

He waited.

Adrienne cleared her throat. Jax had no sense of humor – that much was clear.

“I wanted to know about my sister,” she said.

“I can’t talk about her.” As before, he turned and started away.

Perplexed, Adrienne hurried to him and caught his arm. “Wait, please!”

He shrugged her off.

“Did you love her?”

Jax froze.

Adrienne flipped open the journal. “I think she loved you. She wrote about you in her journal.”

He spun so fast, she didn’t have time to move.

Jax snatched her arm and yanked the journal free.

Adrienne stared up at him, horrified by the sight of his face, until she realized he wore a skeleton mask. While she couldn’t distinguish his features, she could see his riveting eyes. They were blue-green, bright, sharp and deep set.

Releasing her, Jax walked away.

“Jax!” she called, recovering from her surprise. “You can’t take that!”

“Go home to your daddy, girl.”

Adrienne trailed. “That’s all I have left of her.”

“Trust me. This way is better.”

“What way? You stealing from me?”

He didn’t respond.

They reached the end of the alley. Adrienne stared after him, distraught. She hadn’t gotten far with the journal, but it was her sister’s. Not only that, but the sticky notes were in there, too. All the clues to whatever mystery she was meant to unravel were in Jax’s hands.

“I’m not going home without her journal!” She scrambled after him.

“Don’t be stupid.” He tucked it beneath his sweatshirt.

“You said she wasn’t dead. Are you sure you’re talking about my sister?” she continued.

He said nothing.

“Jax. Jax!”

“You’re driving me crazy, girl. Go home.”

“No.”

He turned down an alley, this one displaying what looked like gang members huddled at its center. She paused, sensing it wasn’t the place for her. The tattooed young men greeted Jax with fist bumps and some complex handshake. A few openly wore guns in their belts and carried knives.

Jax had her sister’s journal.

Adrienne swallowed hard then stepped into the alley, following him. She drew close enough to see the tattoos of the boys. All wore veves of gods while a few had French sayings written on their forearms or in one case, across his forehead. She studied them. She’d never heard of a voodoo gang. Then again, she was new to New Orleans. It was a lot different from Atlanta.

As close as she was willing to go, she stopped and waited, following Jax with her eyes. He seemed unaware of her, as if he didn’t expect her to follow him.

“Who the hell is this?” one of them noticed her.

They all turned, two drawing their weapons while the others just stared.

“I’m here to see Jax,” she said clearly.

“Step right into his office,” one replied then laughed.

“You’re a little young for Jax.”

“Rich girl. You go to the private school. Your daddy know you’re out?”

They circled her as they spoke. Adrienne didn’t know what to say. She looked away quickly, eyes on Jax. His hood was facing her, though he made no move towards her.

“Hey. You sing at the Baptist church on Sundays.” This voice came from behind her.

Adrienne turned to face the speaker. He was ruggedly handsome, a few years older than her with hard, striking green-blue eyes that resembled Jax’s. Dressed in baggy clothing like the others, he was likewise armed with two knives. The tattoos down his arms were of various gods, though the most prominent was that of Ogoun, the warrior god.

“He asked you a question, girl,” one of the others snarled. “You too good to talk to us?”

“No,” she replied. “And yes, I do sing at the church on Sundays.”

“You’re not rich,” the guy with prominent Ogoun tattoos said, crossing his arms. “Your daddy lives in this ward.”

“I’m on scholarship at the school for my singing,” she said. “How do you all know where I live?”

“This is our hood. We know who belongs where.” The speaker’s blue-green eyes slid to Jax, who had neared.

“I’m taking this one home,” one of the others said. “Got a rite in mind for her.”

Someone grabbed her arm.

She gasped and tried to pull away.

“Back off, DeShawn!”

“You back off, Rene. I spotted her first.”

The two were soon shoving each other. Adrienne tried to find her footing, but was yanked between them. Fists flew around her as two more joined the struggle. Someone’s elbow caught her in the side of her head. She slammed into the wall, stars exploding in her thoughts.

Adrienne slid to the ground. She lay still, the sounds of fighting distant. Unable to pull herself out of the dark place, she tried to discern what was going on. The sounds of fighting faded.

“She okay?” someone’s voice warbled.

“Not sure.”

Adrienne tried to answer but wasn’t able to. She felt herself lifted off the hard concrete. For what felt like a million years, she floated in the in-between place, unable to fully enter consciousness or unconsciousness.

The scent of cinnamon rolls reached her. It broke the spell, and she breathed in deeply then opened her eyes. Fluorescent light glared overhead, blinding her for a moment.

Adrienne blinked and twisted her head to see a portly African-American lady seated in front of an ancient computer. By the look of the sagging walls, old technology and aging equipment, she was in a free medical clinic. It was the only type of doctor her mother took them to back home.

Adrienne pushed herself up.

“Those boys normally don’t bring in pretty little white girls whose daddies might sue,” the woman in nurse clothing said, glaring at someone across the room. “That’s a one way ticket to jail, Rene.”

“I wasn’t the one who hit her!” Rene, the young man with blue-green eyes, retorted. “This stupid girl walked into our territory like she owned that shit. Besides, police won’t touch me.”

“Yo’ mama know you cuss? Ima tell her. You lucky if all that happens is she beats your ass. Black man or poor man like you hit a white girl, he goes to jail. Forever. Look at my husband.”

“I’m okay,” Adrienne said. “Aren’t I?”

The large woman eyed her. “Yeah. You okay. Bumped your head. Take Tylenol if it hurts.”

“Okay,” Adrienne said. Her stomach was rumbling from missing dinner, and the smell was driving her crazy. “Are there cinnamon rolls somewhere?”

“Never fails.” Rene’s aunt hefted herself up. “You got insurance?”

Adrienne shook her head.

“I ain’t even doin’ a file on you. Waste of my time.” She walked out.

Adrienne touched her head gingerly. She had a headache and a bruise on one temple. She looked at Rene. He sat on a bright orange chair clearly bought from a school auction next to a counter with a peeling top. His striking eyes were on her. He’d put on a sweatshirt to cover the weapons at his waist and the tattoos on his arms. What made her blood race, the danger he radiated or the fact he’d carried her here and stuck around to make sure she was okay?

“You brought me here?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“What the f…” He shot a glance towards the door where his aunt had gone. “… hell were you doing there? You new in town? Didn’t no one tell you that you don’t just walk up in some alley in the Projects?”

“Jax took something from me,” she said firmly. “I want it back.”

“What he take that make you do something so stupid? You want to get hurt? Cuz that’s what my people do to little white girls like you alone in our allies.”

She flushed. “You helped me.”

“Once. You get one freebie for being ballsy enough to chase down my brother.”

“Jax is your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Why has he been following me?” she asked.

Rene shrugged. “None of my damn business. Or yours.”

“Don’t you say damn,” his aunt said, walking through the doorway. She slapped him on the back of the head.

“It’s in the Bible, like hell!” he snapped.

Adrienne giggled.

“Here. Don’t call the police,” his aunt said, holding out a warm, fragrant roll on a paper plate with a fork and napkin tucked beneath. “You got that, girl?”

Adrienne nodded and accepted it. She took a huge bite and almost sighed. The rolls were fresh and homemade, the slightly sweet bread and thick icing melting in her mouth.

“Where’s mine?” Rene complained.

“With your mama. Get your ass home, Rene.”

“I’m twenty-two. A grown man. I don’t listen to my mama.”

“You’re too skinny. You want me to send the tray with you?” his aunt asked, her eyes going over Adrienne.

She shook her head and wolfed down the roll.

“I never seen a girl eat so fast,” Rene’s aunt said. “You get your ass home, too. I got a line of people to see. Take your bag.”

Adrienne swallowed the last of what was probably her dinner and hopped off the table. Grabbing her backpack, she followed Rene into the crowded waiting room of the free clinic and outside into the balmy night.

“I’ll show you how to get home,” he said unhappily.

“I have to find your brother,” she objected.

“Shut up and walk.”

Adrienne stopped, glaring at the back of his head. As if sensing she wasn’t following, he faced her. She crossed her arms.

“You are crazy, girl,” he said, approaching her. He gripped her arms hard. “You know how stupid you are? There’s evil in these streets.” Despite the gruff tone, there was concern in his voice.

“He took something that belonged to my sister. She died five years ago. It’s important,” she said stubbornly. “If I get killed walking into your alley, then fine. But I can’t let him have something that means so much to me. It ain’t even worth nothing!”

“There’s a killer loose. He targets white girls like you. You really wanna take a chance on our streets over some dead girl?” Rene gazed at her for a long minute.

“Yes,” she said without hesitating.

“Fool.” Like his brother, he spun and walked away.

“Rene!” she called. “Will you talk to him for me?”

“He won’t give it back.”

“But why? It’s mine!” Tears of frustration filled her eyes. “It’s all we have left of her. It’s not right for him to take it.”

“Right and wrong are shades of gray on the streets, girl,” he said gruffly, glancing over his shoulder. He let out a sigh. “Don’t cry.”

He reached into his pocket to pull out a wallet on a chain. Tugging something free, he held it out to her.

Adrienne hesitated then stepped forward to take the photograph. It was older, its edges worn from use. She tilted it to see it in the streetlight. It was a picture of Therese at the age of seventeen. Her arms were wrapped around a man with green-blue eyes, whose beaming smile was just as bright as Therese’s.

Adrienne found herself smiling back at the happy couple. She sniffed back her tears. Most of the pictures she had of Therese were from school. None of them were of her oldest sister smiling like this.

“You look like her,” Rene said at her silence. “Real pretty. We’re the same ages they were when they met. Jax twenty-two, your sis seventeen.”

“Why do you have this?” Adrienne asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged again. “There was a time when Jax was normal. He didn’t wear no mask. That changed when your sister died.”

“The skeleton mask? He’s worn it for five years?” she asked in disbelief.

“Except during Yamaya’s rites during the full moon. He takes it off for the ritual.”

“Yemaya,” she repeated, trying to place the name.

He rolled up his sleeve and pointed to the veve of a goddess. It contained a symbol of a fish, a moon and stars.

“The loa of rebirth and women,” he said. “Your sister came to rituals with us. She met Jax on a full moon.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said in a hushed voice. “So he did love her. It’s why he wears the mask?”

“Yeah. He did.”

They shared a reflective sadness, gazing at each other while their thoughts were on their respective loved ones. Rene had lost a piece of his brother when Therese died. He didn’t say it, and she suspected he was too tough to share his feelings, but she sensed he, too, mourned for a sibling.

“I’m sorry, Rene.”

“So am I,” he admitted. “You a good girl, Adrienne. I don’t want nothing bad to happen to you.”

She smiled, touched by his concern.

“You leave him alone now,” Rene said.

“Can you please ask him about the journal?” She tried again.

“Won’t do no good. Jax takes. He doesn’t give nothing.”

“Can I keep this?” she asked, holding up the picture.

“For now. We can share it.”

“You’re being so nice. Why?”

Rene took a step back, as if he was no longer comfortable with his guard down.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t never hurt girls and I don’t like seeing them cry. C’mon, now, keep up.”

Tucking the picture safely in the pocket of her skirt, Adrienne walked with him on the quiet streets. Shadowy figures passed them and disappeared into alleys. Not eager to end up at the clinic again, she crowded near Rene, who instinctively wrapped an arm around her. Surprised, she didn’t resist when he pulled her into his side, as if to protect her. His strong touch made her heart somersault again, the way it had when Jayden caught her in the cafeteria. It would be easy to sink into his body and let his heat and strength surround her.

Was Rene being nice or was there more to his touch?

“Why is your brother following me?” she pursued, needing a distraction from her racing blood.

“Jax does what he wants. He runs the streets. I don’t ask questions.”

Adrienne almost asked how her sweet sister ended up dating a gang leader and if that was what got her killed. She kept the question to herself, sensing her welcome was quickly wearing out with Rene. It did make her think again about the dark streak she’d sensed in Therese. Was her sister drawn to the danger of the streets? The excitement of being with someone like Jax or Renee? She saw the appeal of being with Rene. It was in his possessive touch and the sense he had a good heart beneath the tough exterior.

“He might be trying to protect you,” Rene said after a moment. “He blames hisself for what happened to Therese.”

“Why?”

“Girl, if I knew …” He gave her a warning look.

Adrienne sighed. Every day since the journal arrived, she crept a little closer to learning more about her sister.

“I miss her,” she murmured. “I just want to know what happened when she came to New Orleans.”

“I don’t remember much,” he said. “She was real pretty and real nice. She sang at the church, too.”

Adrienne smiled, comforted by the image in her mind and happy to share something with her long gone sister.

They continued walking. They weren’t far from her block, and she soon recognized her bus stop when they passed it.

“Hey.”

She turned, surprised by the familiar voice. Rene tensed instantly, reaching towards the weapons at his waist.

“Back up,” he ordered.

“It’s okay,” Adrienne said.

“You know him?”

She nodded, a smile crossing her face. Jayden stood before her, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His dark eyes went from Rene to her, and he offered a small – if tense – smile.

“Your daddy and I have been looking everywhere for you,” Jayden said.

“Really?” she perked, warmth spreading through her.

“We’re good, man,” Jayden said to Rene, gaze wary.

“Whatever,” Rene muttered, moving away. “Remember what I said, girl. Stay out of the alleys.”

“Not until your brother returns my property!” she called after him.

He flipped her off without turning.

She rolled her eyes then faced Jayden.

“I, um … what’re you doing here?” she asked.

“We have a study date. Remember?” He smiled, eyes sparkling.

Adrienne nodded, her heart somersaulting. Jayden had come to rescue her, without knowing much more about her than she was a scholarship student who sang.

He was incredible.

Jayden’s attention settled on her scraped temple. Almost absently, he reached into his pocket and pulled free a Band-Aid. He drew near her and opened it.

Adrienne froze, once again amazed by his height and strength. He was strong enough to fling a football a hundred yards with no effort, yet his touch was gentle as he pressed the Band-Aid to her temple with long, slender fingers. He smelled good, like woodsy cologne.

“I have three sisters, two little ones,” he explained. “My dad is known in the tech world as the black Steve Jobs and my stepmother is on more charity boards than I can count. They live in meetings. I pretty much raised the little ones, with the help of my stepsister. I should’ve bought stock in Band-Aids.” Despite his wry words, there was affection in his voice. He lowered his hands, his body close enough for her to feel his warmth.

“Thank you,” she murmured, face hot.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “What’re you doing out here alone?”

She sighed. “I know. Stay out of alleys.”

“I just met you. I don’t want you disappearing before we get to know each other.”

Of all the lectures she’d gotten about being careful, Jayden’s reasoning was the only one she agreed with. Her insides hummed with excitement.

“Okay?” he asked. He reached forward to tuck her hair behind one ear. The touch ratcheted up her body’s awareness to how close he was.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Let’s get back. Your daddy was a mess when I left him.” Jayden started walking.

“Oh, god. Was he nice to you?” she asked. “I’m so sorry if not. He’s um, well … a little old school.”

“He was fine after the initial … introductions.” Jayden cleared his throat.

Adrienne laughed, mortified of what her father must have said to make Jayden uncomfortable. Light glinted off the necklace he wore. Wanting to change the subject, Adrienne focused on it.

“Those almost look like dog tags. But round,” she said, squinting to see the writing.

“They are. I guess back in the day, they were round,” Jayden said, looking down. “My grandmama gave these to me. Said my great grandpapa wanted me to have them.”

A troubled look crossed his face. He shook his head and smiled once more.

“She’s into voodoo and talking to dead people or whatever,” he explained.

“Oh. You don’t believe in that stuff?” Adrienne asked cautiously.

“No way. Superstitions like that are for the ignorant,” he said firmly.

She felt her face warm for a different reason. Her mother’s family was highly superstitious, and although her father hated voodoo, he respected it. He was born and raised in New Orleans, a city where magic was integrated into the community. She, too, believed in the power of her ancestral spirits to help her, magic and gods, even if she was a practicing Baptist.

“What did the guy take from you?” Jayden asked.

“Oh, nothing really,” she murmured. “Just a journal.”

“You confronted a gang member over a journal?”

“It was my sister’s,” she answered shortly, not about to drive him away by telling him about the journal and its connection to voodoo. “She died five years ago.”

“Call me next time you want to do something like that, Adrienne,” he said firmly. “My dad is a personal friend of the Chief of Police. They’ll help you.”

“Wow,” she said, gazing up at him. “Thank you. Oh, you can call me Addy. None of my friends never call me Adrienne.”

He smiled.

They walked quietly towards her building. She sneaked a look at him, wondering what he thought about the rundown apartment building. Had he seen her father’s apartment? Would he think less of her because she was poor?

Why was he interested in the first place?

“How did you get my address?” she asked suddenly.

“Called in a favor to the student who helps with records in the admin office,” Jayden admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you forgot to provide it or were joking or …” He drifted off, waiting,

For the second time in five minutes, she was speechless. He was indirectly asking her a question he hadn’t answered.

“Adrienne? My god!” her father’s exclamation saved her from answering.

“Hi Daddy,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. Adrienne hugged him back, hearing how fast his heart was beating.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, pulling away and shaking her lightly. “There are gangs in this neighborhood. Do you have any idea how many bodies the cops find here in a week’s time?”

He was angry and scared, a combination that almost made her smile. As lost as he sometimes seemed, he really cared about her.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she murmured. “I’m okay. Promise.”

“What happened to your head?” His sharp gaze rested on the Band-Aid then went to Jayden. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, Daddy,” she half-lied. “I fell and hit my head in one of the alleys. Kinda knocked me out. Jayden bandaged me up.” She twisted to smile at Jayden.

“Jayden? The kid you’re tutoring from school?”

Her mouth fell open.

“Yes, sir,” Jayden said. “I can’t have my mentor bleeding to death before I pass Algebra.”

“You won’t be doing no tutoring in our home, Addy. You take him to the library.”

Adrienne gazed at Jayden, dismayed. She was grateful her daddy hadn’t just sent him away and to Jayden for letting her dad think she was smart enough to tutor anyone in math.

Jayden winked.

She grinned.

“Come on,” her dad said. “I have to be in to work early and dinner won’t make itself.” He started towards the entrance of their building. “Go home, boy. Don’t you come by again.”

“Daddy-” Adrienne objected.

“It’s late,” he barked.

“I am so sorry, Jayden,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” Jayden said.

She waited until the door to the apartment building closed behind her father. “You told him I was tutoring you?” she asked.

“Sorta,” Jayden said with a laugh. “Told me no daughter of his would date a black man ever. I figured it was safer to play the stereotype and told him I’d stay out of jail better if I got a good education. He seemed okay with that.”

“Oh, my god!” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Jayden.”

“It’s funny. I’m not black enough to my mom’s family, and I’m too black for your dad,” he said, shaking his head.

“I think you’re perfect.”

He smiled. The look was dazzling, a combination of natural good looks and an inner glow that made her realize how much a stranger liked her to search the gang-run streets of her neighborhood after dark to make sure she was okay.

“I mean, I think you’re …” She drifted off, embarrassed. “… probably worrying your parents by being out with a white girl. No good ever came of that, right?”

“You might teach me to steal or something.”

She laughed, and he grinned.

“Go inside, before your daddy comes back with the shotgun,” he said.

“Thank you, Jayden.” She held his gaze as she backed her way to the door of her apartment building. Adrienne pushed it open and went inside, pausing to wave.

Jayden waved back then started away towards a row of dark cars parked across the street.

Adrienne watched him get into one. Seconds later, the taillights glowed red. He flipped on the headlights then eased out of the parallel parking spot and drove away.

The Red Man stood behind a black motorcycle parked beneath the streetlight nearest to where Jayden had been parked.

Adrienne watched the unnatural being watching her, at a loss as to what it was he sought from her. He made an effort to find her and show himself, but he hadn’t tried to talk to her.

Why?

“Adrienne!”

“Coming, Daddy.”

Adrienne retreated to the depths of the elevator, where her father waited.

“How many times do I have to tell you not –” he began.

She listened to the lecture, mind on the events of her evening. She had more questions for her cards tonight, and she was surprised to realize that she wanted to know more about Rene.