Page 74 of Alpha Bait

Jamal’s Chapter

JAMAL HOLLOWAY

When Donnie told me that he suspected Indie was sleeping with a Carmichael, I replied by informing him that I was going to kill her.

Considering the lengths I had gone to in order to get Donnie off a murder charge, he said nothing. He shoved his hands into his pocket and pursed his lips in disapproval as he nodded, his expression betraying his gesture.

His suspicions were enough for me to realize he had stumbled onto something real. That explained her reticence to marry Will. I mean, Will is a little rough around the edges but at the end of the day, he's a great guy.

If Indie had any sense about her, she would have taken me up on my offer without a hint of complaint. She's ungrateful. That's all it boils down to.

I mean, if I were in her shoes I would've done something completely different. I would have done the right thing. She has no soul I think sometimes. She's not willing to sacrifice for the company the way I am.

I coerced Donnie into telling me what he could. We pieced two and two together and realized that the night that Selena had been shot, she must have been with one of the Carmichael brothers.

I decided which one to go after first by a coin toss. If one of them knew where she had been, then they would know where she was now. My dear sister had been gone for over 24 hours and I didn't think she was missing. She had escaped. A deep instinct inside me told me that she had betrayed me.

The men I had tailing her had lost track of her like imbeciles and it was all I could do to avoid beating those stupid bastards to a pulp myself.

I flipped the quarter which landed on tails. Ah, Ames That had to be it. I mean, Ames' brother Richard is far too stupid for my sister to be attracted to. Not to mention, Richard was halfway across the world by my own request. If anyone had helped her leave New York without my detection, it had to be that giant lug who pretended to be far more idiotic than he really was.

It had to be Ames...

Dressed in my new customized wool Prada suit -- a gift to myself in anticipation of a successful acquisition -- I drove myself over to his apartment. Teasing out his address wasn't difficult. I drove myself rather than relying on my driver to avoid detection.

I knew I would have to do a lot of cleanup on the way out just in case the situation became messy. I had some men on standby prepared to help me finish the job if it did. I wasn't as clumsy as my cousin.

That incident in the park had been purely careless. Donnie had behaved like an animal rather than a man making a logical decision for his family. Mind you, I had no regrets about what happened to the Carter girl. I simply wish the entire affair had been cleaner.

That's what I really appreciate, no muss no fuss.

I had planted the doorman for the night and CCTV had been turned off. I had no trouble getting into Ames apartment building. I entered the elevator and pushed the number for his floor.

My new toy burned a hole through my pocket. Not fear, but excitement flowed through my veins. I had yet to use my latest addition to my arsenal, but I was beyond prepared to make Ames Carmichael target practice.

His building had an electronic lock. These locks were supposed to provide a measure of increased security without the use of the key. They also provided me with a brilliant opportunity to hack the key. In typical Carmichael fashion, Ames was clumsy.

His key had been simple to figure out. It was a simple code related to the three letters in his college fraternity. A child could have figured it out. I punched in the code and thrust the door open to find a dark apartment. Despite the darkness, I was under no pretense that the apartment was empty.

In fact, I had been watching Ames for long enough that I knew he was home from work and likely in the shower. Men of routine make it devastatingly simple to track them. I didn't even have to do the work myself. You'll be surprised with the have-nots do for a little bit of cash on hand.

Sure enough, after a few steps in, I heard the hot water rushing against his shower tiles. I even heard his low baritone voice as he sang to himself. He sang Etta James-- "At Last".

I chuckled. Isn't it funny how white boys always seem to love our music?

I pulled the gun out of my pocket. The weapon was already loaded, but I had the safety flicked on. I flicked it off. The water gushed so loud that Ames couldn't hear my approach. I padded down the hallway slowly unafraid of creaky floorboards. If they sounded, so what?

Ames was sopping wet and completely naked whereas I was dressed in Prada and armed weapon. Fear would have been unbecoming.

I pushed open the door to his bathroom and flung his shower curtain open. He inhaled sharply with pure terror that sent blood rushing to my heart excitedly. The thrill had begun.

I kept my gun drawn.

"Hands in the air," I commanded.

With suds and water trailing down his chest all the way down to his groin and then dripping onto the tiles, Ames had no choice but to obey. He thrust his hands in the air.

Men who seem so powerful in the boardroom can so easily be reduced. I found it difficult not to smile. Perhaps smiling would have scared him more, but I had no interest in betraying how much delight the entire situation gave me.

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