Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(29)
As we walk out of the gate into the main terminal, Maia’s fingers intertwine through mine. The airport is deserted, given the early morning hour. That’s why when I see Emmanuel, leaning against the wall alone, he looks even more terrifying than he usually does. He is six foot five, built like a Mack truck, with ebony skin and an army-style crew cut. His tendency to wear his shirts a little too tight accentuates his huge biceps, and unless he was around friends, Emmanuel wore a scowl that promised to cut a person if he looked at him wrong. I’m not even gonna try and say he’s a gentle giant. I would be lying; he is really street as shit.
“Jay!” Emmanuel walks over to us with his usual swag.
Shit. I realize too late that I hadn’t debriefed Maia on him yet. Well, let’s just pray for the best. Emmanuel locks me in a quick hug after a fist bump. His eyes fall down to Maia’s and my linked hands. Oh hell, here we go.
“And who might this be? Honestly Jay, only you could manage to find a piece on a nearly empty plane in the middle of the night. And she’s quite fine.”
Emmanuel eyed her up and down and as he rubbed his chin. I feel Maia’s finger close around mine and she moves behind me ever so slightly. We’ve been friends for a short while but my anger sparks, and I want to knock him out. I won’t, because I know he’s packing. I’m also not stupid. “This is Maia, my girlfriend,” I say, not bothering to hide my irritation.
Emmanuel raises his arms in surrender. “My bad, no disrespect intended Maia. Nice to meet you.” Emmanuel’s pupils are so dilated that I doubt he’ll even remember this in the morning. I know he’s always high, but I’m more than a little pissed that that’s how he drove here to pick us up.
“Hey,” Maia smiles sweetly. Always a lady.
Emmanuel’s modified black Range with its twenty inch spinners is hard to miss in the parking lot. It appears clean on the outside, but the inside tells a different story. The floor is barely visible with all the empty Gatorade and beer bottles, various items of clothing, some of which belong to women, and condom wrappers. I pray to god that the actual condoms themselves have been discarded. The smell of sex blended with weed has permanently become absorbed into the seats. Maia looks green, as though she may vomit in her mouth.
“Where are my manners?” Emmanuel says, before pushing the button on the remote to activate the hydraulics and lower the SUV lower to the ground. Maia climbs in the back, careful not to touch a single thing. I throw the bags in the trunk and climb in next to Emmanuel. I’m sure next time Maia will insist on paying for a cab, and who could blame her? That is, providing there will be a next time, after this trip.
Chapter 15
Maia
If I weren’t still slightly euphoric from my encounter with Jackson on the airplane, this ride would have been some really scary shit. Emmanuel reminded me a little of Mr. T from the A Team, except that he had a slightly more pleasant face. He was scary and abrasive, and besides that, the bastard called me a whore! Well, not in so many words. I’m beginning to wonder just how deep in this world Jackson was. This guy is not a player. This guy is a thug. This guy doesn’t look like the type that accepts ‘no’ from a woman. Ever. This guy scares the shit out of me, but still, I am the girlfriend. I smile to myself.
In the front seat, Emmanuel talks nonstop, filling Jackson in on what had happened since he saw him last, which has been all of two weeks. Apparently someone got someone else’s girl pregnant, and another one of their friends was locked up for what Emmanuel called ‘nothing major, just sexual assault.’ I tune out, staring out at the long road ahead, until I hear Emmanuel mention Shana.
Jackson was clearly indifferent to almost everything Emmanuel said, but his shoulders tense at the name. I know I should just ignore it, but my ears prick.
“She’s still hot as hell,” Emmanuel says whistling. “Even after the kid and shit.”
And shit?
“Doesn’t matter,” Jackson shrugs. “I’m here with Maia. I have no interest in Shana.”
“Old habits die hard, bro. When you see that ass…”
That’s it. I may have issues with confrontation, but this shit is absolutely ridiculous. I clear my throat loudly.
Jackson shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, but it’s Emmanuel who responds. “Don’t worry baby, it seems the boy here only has eyes for you. Wow, to have Jackson sprung, you must have dynamite in your…”
I open my mouth to interrupt, but Jackson beats me to it. “Stop the car, Emmanuel.” Jackson’s jaw is tense.
“What? We’re still ten miles away,” Emmanuel says, honestly shocked by Jackson’s request.
Is he serious? Really? Has he no clue that what he said in front of me was offensive? “I said stop the car.” Jackson’s voice is low.
“Whatever man!” He yells, swerving the SUV to the side of the road. “You’re looking to get shot at this time of the night, on this road,” he continues. Jackson opens the back and grabs our bags, silently. Emmanuel pulls off in a fury, throwing up gravel and sand in his wake.
“Jackson…” I start, gently placing a hand on his arm. He shrugs me off and walks away to call a cab. What the hell? What’s his problem? I guess maybe he just needs some space.
After a few minutes, Jackson walks over and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a fierce hug. “This is not a side of me that I ever wanted you to see. Am I really like Emmanuel, Maia?” Jackson asks me, his voice sounding helpless.