The Game Never Ends. Zaire Crown

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      Chapter Ten

      Learning that Marcus was going to be assassinated at this meeting wasn’t what pissed Tuesday off the most. The anger that shifted her eye color came when she realized that he had known this entire time.

      She thought back on how he had been lately: pensive, reclusive. It explained why he was dodging his usual responsibilities to spend so much time with their daughters. He had been living like a man who knew he was on borrowed time.

      It also shed light on his ravenous sexual appetite. Over the past month Marcus had been gorging himself on Tuesday the way a condemned man would do a last meal.

      She wanted to slap him. “How long did you know?”

      He said, “It don’t matter.”

      “What the fuck you mean it don’t matter!” she spat. “You just been goin’ through the day-to-day with me and the girls, the whole time knowin’ you got this hanging over you. How could you not tell me? I’m not just some bitch you fuckin’ Marcus. I’m yo’ wife. We got a family.”

      He snapped back at her. “Don’t gimme that bullshit cause we both know you been flaky as hell lately. While you been out turnin’ up wit’ your girlfriend, I been the one at home holding down our family and dealing with this.”

      That was a deep cut which immediately put tears in her eyes. “You wrong for that Marcus. You know good and damn well if I would’da known—” The rest was choked off by sobs. Tuesday turned away from him and began to weep into her palms.

      Marcus dragged a hand across his face knowing it was petty of him to run a guilt-trip. In truth, there had been plenty of chances to tell Tuesday; he had chosen to bear this burden alone. It had nothing to do with the time she was spending with Shaun.

      He felt like shit. “Bae, c’mon.”

      When he reached for her she slapped his hand away. “Pull over. Let me out.”

      “Look baby, I’m sorry for what I said but we not about to do this soap opera shit. You not about to jump out this car downtown at twelve o’clock at night. It’s not happenin’.”

      That was a bluff and she was happy not to get called on it. She wiped her face then sat in the passenger seat, arms folded, pouting like a child.

      For a while the drive was just as silent as when they first left Dominic’s. Only this time the Rolls was not filled with a mutually reflective silence. This was a tension-filled bubble heavy with unvoiced emotions.

      Tuesday habitually checked her mirror to find the dark SUV matching their turns. What the night had first presented as black, artificial light revealed to be a deep burgundy Tahoe. It and a second SUV that Tuesday couldn’t make out kept a distance of about four car lengths.

      At some point she didn’t even realize, she and Marcus’s hands had found each other and laced their fingers. At some point she didn’t even realize, Tuesday stopped being mad at him. She was more frightened than anything else.

      “So what’cho gone do?”

      “I’m going to the meeting,” he said flatly.

      “Well what’cho gone say when they ask about using Abel?”

      Marcus didn’t blink. “I’m basically gone tell ’em to kiss my ass.”

      Tuesday was waiting for him to reveal some plan he had been working on in secret. When he didn’t share anything more, Tuesday couldn’t believe it. “So you’re basically about to walk in there, knowing full well what’s waiting for you?”

      “If I don’t go to them, they’re just gonna come to me.”

      She said, “Just punch it. We could beat them home and get the girls. We could lay low until we figure this out. Hide out for a while on the same island you bought when you needed to dodge the feds.”

      Marcus shook his head. “That was a different situation. The indictment was only about me. Running puts a target on all our backs.

      “And trust me, Reina already got somebody scoping out the house. The clowns following us are just for psychology, a visual message not to try anything. If I mash this gas and try to get light, somebody’ll be kicking in our front door before we cut two corners.”

      “Then fuck runnin’!” she shouted. “We’ll go to war. How ’bout that? If she want it wit’ us, if she want it wit’ Sebastian Caine, we’ll give that bitch what she askin’ for.”

      Marcus just stared at Tuesday for a minute with a look that was a combination of puzzlement and pity. “Tuesday, who in the fuck do you think I am?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ