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Kingston: I’m driving with Do Not Disturb While Driving turned on. I’ll see your message when I get where I’m going.
Crap. Well, at least I know he's on his way. The Davenports live in the same gated community I do, so I know it won't be long. My phone rings by the time I make it to the end of the driveway, and Kingston's face appears on the screen. I smile when I see the picture he took of us at the park. He must've updated his contact info when I wasn't looking.
“Hey. How far away are you?”
I can hear the rumble of his engine in the background. “Look up.”
Kingston’s flashy black Agera RS flies down the road and rolls to a stop in front of me. I guess that engine sound was coming from down the street and through the phone. I hang up the call and tuck my cell into the inside pocket of my blazer. I round the car as he flips open the oddly hinged door. One time, I called it a weird-ass door, and Kingston acted like a big baby, saying they were dihedral synchro-blah-blah-something doors. The boy is really sensitive about his car. Although, I suppose if I spent an obscene amount of money on a vehicle, I’d be touchy about it, too.
He frowns when I get in and buckle my seat belt. “What happened?”
“Why do you think something happened?”
Kingston gives me his Are you kidding me? look. “Waiting at the end of the driveway was a pretty big giveaway, but you also look shaken up.”
I motion toward the road. "Start driving, and I'll tell you."
He shifts the car into gear and pulls back onto the road. On the short drive to school, I recap the whole crazy interaction with Charles and Madeline. Part of me is actually worried about Madeline after seeing how pissed my father was, but the other part doesn’t give a shit. To be clear, I don’t think there’s ever a valid reason for a man to hit a woman, but after that bitch threatened me, I definitely think she deserves a solid tongue-lashing. Maybe have her credit cards taken away. That would probably devastate her.
Kingston pulls into a parking spot and kills the engine. “Fuck.”
"Yeah, pretty much. It was a little scary seeing him so angry, even if it wasn't directed at me for once. Even when I rile him up, he's never seemed as furious as he did back there. His voice was loud. Like, it echoed throughout the house. And what’s up with the ‘face the consequences’ crap? Who talks to their spouse like that?”
His beautiful hazel eyes drill into me. “You need to get out of that house, Jazz.”
“No, Kingston. I’m not having this argument with you again.”
“If he’s raging like that, it means he’s losing control, which I’m sure enrages him even further. Charles Davenport is passionate about projecting a calm and calculated image to the world. From the sounds of it, he’s dropping pretenses more and more since you’ve been around. I think your presence puts him on edge.”
“The fact that I look almost exactly like the woman he repeatedly raped and impregnated probably has a lot to do with that,” I mumble.
“All the more reason for you to get out of there.”
“Again, not happening.”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Jesus-fucking-Christ, woman.”
I tilt my chin up defiantly and pin him with a razor-edged stare. “Don’t you J-F-C me! Worst-case scenario, if he flips his shit, I can defend myself just fine.”
Kingston gives me a cruel smirk. “Really? Like you did at the lake?”
My mouth gapes. “You did not just go there!” I fling open my door and unbuckle the seat belt. “Fuck this shit. And fuck you.” I climb out of the car and walk away as fast as I can.
“Jazz, wait!” I only make it a few feet before Kingston catches up with me, pulling on my arm.
I whip around. “Let go of me!”
"Just hold on a second, will you?" he shouts. Lowering his voice, he adds, "I'm sorry. I'm worried about you, and I was channeling it the wrong way."
A crowd has gathered around us, several people holding their phones up.
“Mind your own business, assholes!” I scream.
Snickers pass through the crowd, and of course, not a single person makes an effort to move the fuck along. I flip 'em the bird and tell myself to ignore their nosy asses.
“Can we just go somewhere and talk, please?” Kingston asks.
“I don’t have time for that.” I shake out of his hold and start walking toward Lincoln Hall. “Whatever you need to say can be said after I’ve had time to cool off. I need to speak with my math teacher before class begins.”
