Jail's Bait: Time Served (Book 5)

“Any second now,” Jake grinned evilly as the cotton swabs in the three vials began to change color befor the crowd’s collective gaze.  The tension of waiting made the silence of the room as quiet as a tomb.  Instinctively the group leaned in to take a closer look…

BRRRINGGGGG!!

The crowd collectively jumped as the ring of a cellphone broke the silence.  Everyone turned towards one of the black clad goons, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone, which telephone-style ringtone shattered the stillness over and over.

“That’s the best ringtone you could come up with.?” Jake asked, amused.

“Look, my baby moms be trippin if I don’t answer,” the goon replied, clicking the cell on.  “What?” he screamed into the phone.

The crowd stared at the guard as he suddenly straightened up.  After a moment he replied, “Iight, I’ll hit u up when we get back.”  And as he hung up the phone, he called out, “It’s a wrap, yall, we outta here.  Back to da block.”

Without warning, the entire troupe of thuggs reversed their guns down and started walking out the front double doors.

Jake spun about, a stunned look on his face as the Hill family and servants backed away.  “WAIT,” he cried to the retreating goons, where are you going?  “I’m still using you!”

“Not anymore,” the goon who held the cellphone replied.  “That was Hooch on the phone… he told us the job was done and we were to get back to the block right now.”

“But, where’s your loyalty to seeing the job through,” Jake yelled in frustration.

“We do have loyalty,” the goon said, bowing a final farewell- “to Hooch.  Weez out,” he said, vanishing through the open doors into the darkest night.  Jake, nonplussed, stared at the Hill family and the staff open-mouthed.

“Ohhh, that’s cold,” said a voice from above.

Everyone looked up.  Standing on the second floor landing, looking over the balustrade, stood Marquis, Kap, Danny and Trey.

“Seems like Hooch bitched you out,” Marquis continued.

“You-YOU did this,” Jake screamed in accusation at Marquis.  “You would turn on me...?  Doesn’t our friendship mean anything to you?”

“Let me at him,” Kap growled, darting towards the stairwell- but Danny grabbed his arm.

“Dad, you’re out of the sealed room,” Lamar exclaimed happily.

“Thanks to my godson here,” Danny declared, smiling at Marquis.

“That’s thanks to Smithers telling me about the secret passages in this place,” Marquis grinned.  

“Secret passages...?” Regine asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Marquis said, “it seems that J. Mayson was a filthy old soul.  Liked to peep- or creep, even.”

“Hey pop, I see you escaped,” RahRah said, coming around to the stairs and making his way up.

Regine, however, suddenly screamed bloody murder.

“Ma, what’s wrong,” Malik said, rushing over.  “You act like you just saw a ghost...!”

“I did,” she said, clutching her chest with one hand, pointing at Ray with the other.  “How is he standing down here and up there at the same time...?”

Some of the maids took at look at where Regine indicated and screamed themselves, and two fainted.  Malik and Lamar stared upstairs to where RahRah had reached Trey and was hugging him.  “What the-” Malik said, his eyes wide.

Lionel came over and nodded.  “Its true- I found out when I went upstairs.  Atreyu Hill is alive; Joe had him locked up in the West wing all these years.”

Marquis, Kap, Danny and Trey came downstairs, rejoinoing the group.  Regine, Malik and Lamar hugged Trey, and those who never knew him were given introduction.

“I don’t know who’s worse,” Malik said after hearing the whole story; “Jake or my father.  I can’t believe anyone would lock up their brother for years and then plan to seal the room shut, to leave someone to die...!”

“I still can’t believe you were here all this time, and my rat bastard of a husband had you shackled like a prisoner in a dungeon,” Regine said in awe.

“Tell me about it,” Trey replied; “I’m just glad to finally be back with my family.”  And he squeezed Danny around the shoulders with a smile.

Ray, however, frowned upon seeing this….

******

Melo had barely gotten back into his dorm room when his cellphone began to vibrate on the couch; a text had been sent.  He went over to the phone and flipped it open.

MSG FROM: HOOCH

ITS DONE

SENT 4:46 AM

A smile of relief spread across his features.  He forwarded the text to Angelina, whom he knew was sitting by the phone waiting for news.  Once she replied back with several ‘xoxoxo’, he knew that they would all be able to sleep better for the rest of what night was left.  He trusted that Hooch would call off the goons, because of his desperation to make sure the sex door stayed open between them.  Melo knew in his heart, however, that he would never have sex of any kind with Hooch ever again.  Shooting a load into his face was more about revenge than it was about lust.  It equaled the same as if he had hawked up a wad of phlegm and spit in Hooch’s face.  So no more getting head from that nigga.  As a matter of fact, he knew that his attitudes towards sex were changing… Melo realized that falling in love with Kap gave him a different perspective on love, and what it truly means.  Love was risk, yet it was also sacrifice.  He knew, in his heart of hearts, that Kap would never leave Marquis for him.  Giving his heart to Kap both blessed and cursed him at the same time, he was exulted to know love’s endless beauty, and yet he was doomed to be trapped in love’s endless snare.  And knowledge of  love brought forth understanding of how love works in others…

He realized then that there was a long overdue call he had to make, and immediately.  He knew it was just past 5am, but he had to do it now.  He picked up his cellphone and dialed 411.  ‘Hello..?”  Yes, Seattle, please… OakGrove Sanitarium.”  He paused.  “Thank you.”

He saved the number to his phone memory, and dialed it.  After a few rings, the line connected.  “Good morning, you’ve reached the operator at Oakgrove Institutue; how may I direct your call?”

“Umm, hello,” Melo replied; “can you give me the number to Marcus James’s room, please.”

“I can only give out that information to those authorized to visit him,” the operator replied.

“My name should be on the list,” Melo replied; “it’s Carmelo Johnson.  Or it might be under Carmelo James.”

There was a second of silence, then the operator returned: “It’s under Carmelo James.”  And she proceeded to give him the room number and its phone extension.

“Thanks,” Melo said; “Can you transfer me over...?  He won’t mind me calling him this early.”

“With pleasure,” the operator said, transferring the call.

The phone rang; instantly it was picked up.  “Hello...?”

“I figured you’d be awake by now,” Melo said with a small smile.  “It’s Dook.”

There was a tense silence on the phone, and Melo became uneasy.  “Hey, Dook… Mom and Dad- are they okay,” came Marcus’s voice.

“Oh, yeah,” Melo said then, “Mom and Dad are fine, as far as I know.  I’m still at Berkeley.”

“So why are you calling so early?” Marcus asked curiously.

“I-I  just couldn’t wait man, I had to talk to you,” Melo replied.

“Are you okay?  What do you need?” asked Marcus, his voice full of concern.

“I need to apologize to my big brother.”

Again, the tense silence on the phone.

Melo took a deep sigh. “Look, I got all homophobic on you back then.  I didn’t know you were involved with another guy.  After that fight between you and ol dude and you got suspended from the NBA, you came out to the family and we turned our backs on you for being gay.  Even though the media never got a hold of the real reason why yall was fightin, I was ashamed of you for letting yourself get caught with your pants down, so to speak.  I vowed from then on to be the dog in the situation, not the one that got dogged… and I REALLY believed loving another man was for punks and jerks like you.  I wasn’t ever gonna let me get caught with no nigga to fuck my career up…!”

“Great apology,” Marcus demurred.

“Hold it, I’m getting to that,” Melo said; “well, it’s like I said.  Since I was chasin fame like you did, I didn’t want your bad press to fall back on me, which is why I changed my last name to Johnson and kept my connection to you away from the tabloids.  Mom and Dad understood, and went along with my plan.  I just wanted a Heissman trophy so baddddd, I could taste it.”  He gave a great sigh.  “But then I fell in love, man.”

“With your girl Necie..?” Marcus asked.

“No,” Melo replied in awe: “with another dude.  So on top of everything else, I’m a hypocrite.”

There was a shocked silence this time.  “Since when do you get down with men...?” Marcus asked.

“Must run in the family,” Melo said with a grin.  “This is another reason why I can’t be madd with you about being gay… I’m real sorry I didn’t support you when you needed it most.”

Marcus sighed.  “It’s all good, don’t worry about it,” he said; “you’re my little brother, Dook- and I love you, for always.  No need for apologies.”

Melo teared up at this; he hadn’t expected Marcus to be so forgiving, so fast.  “I never thought I’d be able to talk to you about doin any gay shyt.  Yeah, once I got a taste of it, I wound up liking running up in dudes, I mean the ass is incredible…!  But actually respecting a dude like that, never me- not until now.  He’s shown me so much about how real, true love can be, even if he and I can never be together…”

“That’s bullshyt and you know it,” Marcus said then; “if you want your love with this guy to last, you will not let anything stop you from being together…”

“Is that why you sacrificed your game for ‘ol boy…?” Melo countered; “and by the way, just where is he now..?  Still with his wife and kids.  You did it all for nothing.”

“Love is a risk,” Marcus said then simply.  “And for men like us, baby bro, it’s all or nothing.  Just cause I gambled and lost it all doesn’t mean you wont come out a winner… but you wont know until you really take the risk, man.”

“It’s too late, he’s with his true love already,” Melo said with a small grumble.   “Another guy.  I can’t break that up- they’re too strong.”

“I get it.  So just take your time, see if he meets you half-way one day,” Marcus replied, hopeful.

“Hey, this call wasn’t about my stuff,” Melo said then; “it was about me apologizing to you for being an ass.  I hope one day it works out between you and-”

“Hey, that ship has sailed,” Marcus replied wistfully.  “I’m actually in a new situation now, a good one, with someone I met here.  He went through a lot having to deal with my stuff in the beginning, but we’re in a good place now.  I would love for you to meet him, but right now he’s in Seattle, at a will reading.”

“Hey, that’s funny,” Melo said then, “because the dude I’m all over the moon about is in Seattle too, at a will reading.”

“Well, aint that a small world,” Marcus laughed.

“Aint it though,” Melo agreed, chuckling on his end.  “Well, I gotta bounce,” Melo said with a yawn, “but I hope it works out, you and your dude.”

“Thanks, and don’t be a stranger,” Marcus wished to his little brother; “take care Dook, and I love you.”

“I love you too, and I’ll come and visit soon,” Melo said, hanging up the phone and sitting back down on the couch in his original position, yawning, but feeling a bit better about life in general.

******

“How’d you find them, Marquis,” Lamar asked.  “You said something about a secret passageway?”

“Smithers had already told me how to find the main one,” Marquis replied, “and I figured they had to build more than just the one passage… I poked around, and found a second passageway into the West wing.  Kap and I went down that passage until we heard noises behind one of the panels.  It opened up and we found- well, we found Uncle Danny and Gran-dad,” he added rather guiltily.

Ray peered at Marquis through slitted eyes after that small slip of the tongue.

“I knew that we’d be rescued,” Trey, meanwhile, replied confidently.  “Though my grandson got to me before my son could,” he smiled at Marquis.

“That ol’ Jake did say that there was a way to bust you guys out,” Regine said then; “guess he was right...!”

“Speaking of Jake, where’d he go...?” Lamar asked.

They all looked around, and realized that Jake was gone, and the front doors still stood wide open.  It wasn’t until they looked around fully that anyone noticed what else was gone-

“Hey, the vials are missing too!” exclaimed RahRah.

Sure enough, the table on which the vials stood not even a minute ago was now empty.  Lamar’s, Malik’s and RahRah’s DNA samples were gone.  “Did Jake take the vials with him,” Lamar asked with a frown.

“More importantly, did that test show which one of us is Jake’s father…?” RahRah asked, looking at Malik and Lamar, who stared back at him helplessly.

******

“Excuse me, Mr. Malik,” Mr. Price came over.  “I thought that you should know… I just made some checks and woke up a few consultants at the World Banks… the Hill family accounts are indeed empty, all of them- down to the last dime.  Besides what few bank accounts you may have outside of the Hill family influence, you are penniless,” he sighed.

“That includes me too, Malik,” Lamar said; “remember, we had a commitment ceremony, and I took your name.  We have a joint account, and in the eyes of the law I’m a Hill man.”

“Which means all the money you made writing as Karl Khonic is gone as well,” Malik gasped.  “Oh, Lamar, I’m so sorry…”

“You’ve been apologizing to me all day and half the night, it seems,” Lamar replied wearily, going over to the staircase and sitting down.  “This isn’t your fault- it was Jake… he got us, got us good.”

Malik sat down next to Lamar.  “Look, I still have the money coming in from my controlling percent of HillTopp Records, and you know Lil’ Bluntt is making platimum and diamond albums- so we should still be able to maintain ourselves.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Lamar admitted; “It’s just that I worked hard on those novels, and I feel like the proof of my hard work is now gone in a puff of smoke.”

“Look, I have an idea,” Marquis said, coming over to Lamar and Malik.  “Jake stole the whole pie, right?  All we have to do is make him give it back.”

“Out of the kindness of his heart...?” Malik scoffed.  “I don’t think we have that much influence on the man.”

“You’re right, we don’t…” Marquis agreed; “but there’s one person here who would be able to influence him right now… the person that this part of tonight’s events was all about.”

“You mean Jake’s real father,” Lamar said then shrewdly.

“Right in one,” Marquis nodded.  He leaned into the group conspiratorially.  “We get Jake’s dad to fake him out, make him vulnerable-”

“And when he’s not looking, pick his pocket for the whereabouts of the treasure, put it back in the World Banks… and the Hill family stands tall, once again,” Malik said, nodding.

“Problem,” RahRah interrupted, startling them; no one had seen him come over to the huddle.  “We still don’t know which one of us is the little bastard’s father.”

“No, we don’t,” Marquis exclaimed; “but I bet you his mother does.”

Malik, Lamar and RahRah stared at Marquis incredulously.  “Son, you do realize that all this started because Jackie opened up her legs when she should’ve kept them closed, and closed her mouth when she should have opened it,” RahRah asked.  “What makes you so sure you’ll get the truth out of her now…?”

“You’re right about my Aunt Jackie, I fear,” Marquis said then sullenly- then he jumped up.  

“WAIT a moment- she’s my auntie,” he said, “I forgot about that...!”

“What does that have to do with anything,” Malik asked with a frown.

“I’ll tell you,” Marquis replied confidently.  “Aunt Regine,” he called out.

“Yes, baby,” Regine replied, coming over.

“When you first found out you were pregnant with Uncle Malik here,” he indicated to Malik, “who did you tell first?”

“Oh, it was Claire who I told first,” Regine said; “I know as adults we weren’t that cool, but back in school, she was the sister I never had.”

“And if you had a sister of your own,” Marquis pressed.

“Then I would have told it to her first,” Regine replied; “we women tell our secrets to our sisters.”

RahRah’s face dawned with understanding.  “So the person who would know all the sides to this story…”

“…is my mother,” Marquis finished his father’s sentence.  “She might know it all.”

“Why would Marquette not ever tell us about Jake, then,” Lamar asked.

“Secrets between sisters are like diamonds,” Regine replied; “unbreakable.  You wouldn’t have gotten anything out of her.”

“I hear you, Aunt Regine,” Marquis said; “but a sisterly bond aint as strong as a bond between a mother and her son.”

“You might have a point, there,” Regine said, reaching out to pat Malik on the cheek.  Malik smiled at the gesture.

“I’ll send the helicopter for her to come here to Crimson Crest.” And he hurried off with Kap at his side.

Trey and Danny came over to the stairs.  “What’s going on,” Danny asked.  “Start from when I left to go up to the West wing.”

He and Trey were quickly filled in on the current Hill family shocks.  “You mean to tell me that the kid who just stole the entire family fortune might have been spawned by one of you...?” Trey asked RahRah, Malik and Lamar.

“Yessir,” Lamar replied, just as weary as earlier- “which means he might be your grandson, Dad.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Danny said, and bent his knees to sit down next to Lamar.

“Before you sit,” came Ray’s voice, “I would like to speak with you, Danny.  Alone,” he added, glaring at Trey, who had opened his mouth to speak.

Danny’s eyes grew wide, and nodded once.  He straightened up and they headed back towards the den. The entire crowd watched them disappear around a corner where a potted palm grew out of a floor-vase.

Trey started to follow them, but RahRah grabbed his arm.  “Dad, they have to talk this out,” he said wisely.

Trey frowned.  “I don’t want him getting up in my baby’s face,” Trey said then; “I know this guy Ray’s my twin, but he’d better take it easy on Danny-boy.”

“Okay, she didn’t like it much, seeing as it’s almost dawn,” Marquis replied as he and Kap strode back over to the group, “but my mom’s getting ready for the ‘copter to pick her up.  She should be here in about a half hour.”

“That’s good, Marquis,” RahRah replied.  Trey, however, still stared dubiously towards the place Ray and Danny disappeared.

“Danny’s a grown man, he can take care of himself,” RahRah replied.  “You gotta cut the apron strings, Dad.”

Trey stopped and stared at RahRah.  “You know, I never thought I’d hear you say that to me, ever in life.”

“You mean when I said ‘don’t cut the apron strings’...?” RahRah asked.

“No, I mean when you called me Dad,” Trey smiled.  He reached out and put one arm on his son’s shoulder.  “I’ve missed out on so much.”

RahRah smiled back.  “Wow, if only Ma were awake.  She would be so surprised that you were still alive.”

Trey’s eyes grew wide with shock.  “What do you mean by that...?  Just where do you think your mom is?”

“She was transferred to a long-term care facility. Coma,” RahRah said, holding his father’s gaze, and then he hung his head.  “It’s my fault; she was trying to stop me from escaping OakGrove.  I thought that I only hit her hard enough to knock her out… I never meant for her to go into a coma.”

Trey suddenly seemed to sway.  He grabbed his head and stumbled; RahRah and Marquis grabbed him and hustled him over to the stairs, sitting him down.  “What the hell-” began RahRah.  What is it…?”

“Dad, he’s been laid up in a chained bed for almost two years; maybe all this was too much energy used up at once- and that last reveal was probably too much to swallow,” Marquis replied, pulling a piece of tissue from his pocket and wiping the sweat from Trey’s brow. “Gran-dad, when do you last eat?”

“It’s not that,” Trey muttered; “its… just when I thought my brother couldn’t stoop any lower…”

“What’s Joe done now...?” Regine asked archly.

Trey looked over at RahRah with an astonished look.  “Son, when is the last time you went to visit your mother?”

RahRah frowned, thinking.  “I’m just getting out of OakGrove this past month, and I didn’t do any traveling yet.  I had thought about going but all the drama that’s been going on here, I kept putting it off.”

“And Ive been at school.  We were getting updates from Joe every so often, and he became her primary guardian for the time being,” Marquis added.  “And the word from him was always the same- no change.”

Trey paled.  “You really don’t know then… awww god, how do I tell you this one..?”

Regine suddenly squeezed herself onto the stairwell.  “I know this family well enough to know we’re about to hear something outrageous and horrible,” she proclaimed.

Trey gave a deep sigh.  “Son, I was still on life support.  Rena’s doctors told Joe that she had suffered a stroke from a tumor grown out of control, and she would… never wake up again.”  He reached out to grasp one of RahRah's arms.  “Are you understanding what I am saying..?  She was pronounced brain-dead.”

RahRah looked as if he would pass out himself.  “Oh my god, Ma…”

Trey swallowed, and continued.  “So the doctors… asked what the family wanted to do.”

RahRah looked up again with instant indignation.  “No one asked me SHIT,” he growled.

Trey looked as if he were trying to find the right words for his son.  “You were still a registered patient at OakGrove; in the eyes of the law you had no say.  Marquis was underage and a college student; so to all intents, Joe was her guardian.  He had her tested, and the doctors discovered that her bloodtype matched mine to a dime.  Rena had signed her donor card, so Joe gave permission to have her heart… transplanted.”

RahRah’s eyes widened in surprised awe.  “Are-are you saying that you…?”

Trey nodded intently.  He lifted the dirty tee shirt he wore, revealing a small scar in the center of his chest.  “It’s right here, son.  Your mother gave me her heart once before; I feel honored to have it once again.”

RahRah stared at his father, his face stricken.  Regine sniffed as tears streaked down her face.  Marquis looked like someone punched him in the stomach.

“This-this is all my fault,” RahRah groaned.  “I hit her, I put her in that coma.”

Trey frowned.  “Well, you shouldn’t have hit your mother in any case, but from what the doctors told Joe, any old bump to the head would have aggravated the tumor.  You would have gone to her house one day and found her on the floor… so it’s not your fault for something that would have eventually happened anyway.”

“I never even checked on her,” RahRah cried, sitting on the floor and bowing his head.

“We’re all at fault,” Marquis added, his eyes brimming with tears as he sat down by his father.  

“She was my grandmother, and I never called either, we all just went on with our lives ‘cause she was in a coma, and we just let Uncle Joe handle all the bad stuff for us.  Who knew he’d make moves and just not tell us about it… he’s got to be burning happily in Hell.”

Lamar, who had been listening on, suddenly reached into his pocket for his cellphone.  “Excuse me, everyone,” he said aloud, striding off to a corner and making a call.

“Well thank god she wasn’t in any pain when she died,” Regine added, wiping her eyes.  “And how remarkable is it that you guys blood type matched,” she said, patting Trey’s arm.  She then turned sympathetic eyes on RahRah.  “It’s like, in a way, your mom brought your father back to you.”

Suddenly RahRah was on his feet.  “I-I need some air,” he muttered, and he headed across the foyer and through the front doors.  No one tried to stop him.

“Does anyone need anything?”  The maid Stella had tremulously approached the group; from the huddled look of the servants on the opposite side of the stairwell, they had elected her to be their voice.

Trey looked over at the maid.  “Well, hello, Stella,” he replied gently.

Regine looked thunderstruck.  “Trey, you know her?” she asked.

“Yes, I do,” Trey answered, curious as to Regine’s sudden reaction.  “After Smithers passed, Stella took over his duties regarding me- bringing my meals, keeping me clean- ahhh, those sponge baths,” he sighed with a leering wink at Stella, who blushed, smoothing out her uniform apron.

“Stella,” Regine asked sternly, “why didn’t you tell me that Joe had his brother chained to a wall in the West wing...?”

Stella looked mortified.  “It is apparent to me, Madame,” she began, “that you have never held a position as a servant of a manor house.  Along with our regular duties, we keep our master’s and mistress’s secrets.  We follow the rules and keep our mouths shut. That is how servants are dismissed, by not knowing their place.”

Regine held her gaze, then nodded.  “You aren’t at fault, Stella,” she finally agreed; “Joe was intimidating enough; of course he bullied you into keeping quiet.  You all are excused, go get some well-deserved sleep.”

“Thank you, Madame,” Stella said, nodding; “goodnight, Sirs,” she said to the rest, nodding directly to Trey- then she hurried away to the other servants.  The foyer empited as the group trouped en masse to the servants quarters.  In seconds the only ones left were the Hill family and the group of lawyers, who looked busy.

Kap sat down next to Marquis.  “I’m sorry about your grams,” he said then, taking Marquis's hand into his own.

“I can’t believe I was so wrapped up in my own stuff that my own grandmother died almost two years ago, and I didn’t even know what happened to her,” Marquis said to Kap, his face reflecting the stricken look his father wore.  “Were we that selfish..?  Was I..?”

Kap pulled Marquis into an embrace, Marquis's head resting on Kap’s shoulder.  “You are the most generous man I’ve ever known,” Kap breathed into his ear; “there is no way that anyone would ever think you were selfish.  You have to remember, your grams cut you out of her life.  You can’t fault yourself for getting out of the habit of calling her… she hasn’t allowed you to talk to her since you were 11 years old.”

“I feel what you’re saying,” Marquis replied sullenly, “but still… I should have taken some responsibility.”

“I can’t believe this,” Lamar said then, as he came back over to where the group was sitting.

“What is it,” Malik asked as everyone looked up.

“It was what Marquis said,” Lamar replied, a pale look on his own face; “how we’ve been living our lives, letting Joe handle all the dirty details we don’t want to think about… I was reminded that I’m doing the same thing, letting Joe handle all the details of my mother’s recovery from her attack by Leo.  So I just called the long term facility where she was supposed to be getting treatments, skin grafts, surgeries…”

“Well, is Claire okay?” Regine asked, hand to her throat; “she’s not-”

“No, she’s not dead,” Lamar said; “she was released.”

“What..?” Malik exclaimed.  “When did they release her?”

Lamar met Malik’s eyes, with a haunted look.  “Six months ago…”