Page 2 of Still Forever
His voice was deep, with no emotion. “We invite the brothers on the final day. If the girl isn’t connected to the life, she has to go.”
His command was law. Moscow and Haiti nodded without a rebuttal.
“If he doesn’t end it. She dies,” he added coldly.
CHAPTER 1
Kennedy “Kenn” Davenport
It was almost eight o’clock at night, and I was just about to leave the clinic. I should have been home two hours ago, but somehow the time got away from me. My stomach was growling, my head was pounding, and I was walking like Viola Davis in these heels that I had been in for fourteen hours. Locking the glass door behind me, I set the alarm on the building while my security detail Zo stood by.
“You good, Kennedy?” He asked as he held open the truck door for me. He must have seen the look on my face.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just get me home,” I laughed and took off my shoes as soon as my butt touched the leather seats.
Pulling the flats from my bag, I changed into them and exhaled as I opened my phone to catch up on life and see what I had missed over the course of the day. Like I expected, I had a million emails, calls, and text messages to sift through.
I started with the text messages. It was nothing out of the ordinary. My nail tech was confirming our nail appointment, and there were random group chat messages with Storm and Ms. Meena, featuring memes, videos, and pictures of the kids. I scrolled through it quickly, reading some of the bible verses that Ms. Meena had sent us before I landed on an image of BJ. Stormhad sent us a video of him counting, and I responded with some emojis, telling her how handsome and smart he was.
Then I scrolled up to Jaxon’s thread. He sent me a voice message, and I pressed play to listen to it.
“I’ma be your next patient when I lose my damn mind. FaceTime me when you get home. I miss you, KD.”
His voice echoed through the phone, low and deep. I couldn’t stop the smile that crept on my face if I had tried. I listened to it a couple more times before I exited out of it and sighed.
My man was the perfect blend of rough, crazy, and romantic, and I loved that about him. But he had been in Peru for over a month, and his absence was driving me insane. His demanding schedule was the reason why I had thrown myself back into work as hard as I had. When he purchased the building for Mind Over Matter, the plan was only for me to oversee other doctors. But now I was back in the mix, taking clients myself just to stay busy and avoid being alone.
Jaxon’s promotion in the Mafia had him spread thin, and I had been trying to do my best to bottle how I felt and not stress him out about it. But sometimes it wasn’t so simple. If he wasn’t in Peru, he was in Bolivia with Santos or somewhere else across the country, and it was hard to be on the same page.
I called him back; the phone rang for a while before it went to voicemail. I dialed his number again and got the voicemail for a second time. I hung up in my feelings; we had been playing phone tag all day. Twice, I had even stepped out of sessions to call him back, but my calls went unanswered. Deciding against sending him an angry message, I stared out the window as we rode. I missed the old days when things were simpler between us. When we didn’t have to schedule quality time or phone calls, but this is where we are. Just the thought of the beginning of our relationship brought back a rush of memories. I caught myselfblushing as I replayed the moment when we first met on the day of Storm’s wedding.
“Bridesmaids, it’s almost time to walk out. Mrs. Jennings, your call time is shortly. I’m going to need you at the top of the stairs in about five minutes,” The planner said as we kissed Storm’s cheek, and I picked up the bottom of my dress and hurried back over to the door. I didn’t know why I was rushing, because Storm sure wouldn’t be.
Hunter, the wedding planner, and I stepped off the elevator and rounded the corner to the entrance of the event space.
There were three people already standing there. A woman and two men—two fine ass men. But the one whom I could tell was the oldest of the two literally had my breath stuck in my throat. He was easily the finest man that I had ever laid eyes on. He was tall— maybe six-foot-six. He was wearing an all-black tuxedo, a black button-down shirt with tattoos peeking just over the collar. He had rich, bronze-toned skin, a chiseled jawline, and a sculpted body, but his demeanor was relaxed. He was leaning calmly with one Louboutin against the wall, like he wasn’t that nigga. The way he was positioned gave the perfect view of his dick fighting against his slacks. Had it been silent enough, we could have all heard the seams of his pants crying; it was that heavy.
Despite his mellow energy, there was something about him that said he wasn’t the one to play with. The danger was subtle, but it was there, nonetheless.
“About damn time,” The woman in the tailored suit mumbled, taking my thoughts from the man against the wall as I gave her a look that caused the youngest of the two to laugh.
“Can I have you all line up? Judah, you will be first. Jaxon, you’ll be second, and Farah as the best woman; you’ll be last,” the planner directed as she physically moved us into place and checked our positions. Jaxon. I made a mental note toremember that name as I gave Hunter the look to stand by the first man—she caught my signal and took her spot, chuckling.
“You pretty as fuck, but you look a little older. Come on, I like a cougar.” He said, causing us all, including the planner, to fall into laughter at the guy who I now knew was Judah.
“Boy, please, I’m married,” Hunter said as she composed herself and fell back into her position.
“A ring ain’t a stop sign, baby. Just caution tape.” He shot back as she took his arm and shook her head at his antics.
Jaxon walked toward me, smelling like cedarwood and saffron. He took his place at my side, without a word. Not a glance, a greeting, or a polite head nod that you might expect a man standing next to a stranger to give. He said nothing. I may have been lusting on the inside, but on the outside, I was going to appear as nonchalant as he was.
I grabbed his arm and looked up at him. As soon as I did it, he turned toward me and our eyes locked. The eye contact he gave me was crazy, and the way his eyes slowly scanned my body caused me to bite my lip and slowly turn away from him. He leaned down into my ear, just millimeters away from it, and asked, “You stare at niggas all the time that you ain’t ready for?” His voice was deep, smooth, and sharp. Like a knife wrapped in silk. He might not have worn his cockiness on his sleeve, but it was definitely in him. The quiet confidence aura was sexy, and something about it quieted the noise in my head.
Turning back to him, I smirked.
“On special occasions,” I said just as the doors opened, and we began walking.
As the night wound on, it became less about my lust and more about celebrating my friend. Regardless of the fact that she kept insisting it wasn’t a celebration. I hadn’t thought about him again until the reception. Or should I say, I tried not to think about him. But it was hard to sit through dinner andspeeches with the words of Jaxon still running down my spine and giving me all kinds of feelings I didn’t understand.
