Chapter Five
Prince turned the Rubik's cube left and right, rotating it in his palm top to bottom. Aligning the colored squares was rote memory and touch at this point, but the sequence always worked. Within a matter of minutes, the puzzle was decoded, reminding him that every problem could be solved with the correct sequence of actions.
He set the cube down and gathered the sheets of paper before him. He gave the thick stack a slap on the desk. The pages fell into an orderly queue. Though they fell in line, things still didn't add up.
The reports from the racing track weren't enough to prove that the incident involving Crow was racially motivated. Hate crimes were notoriously hard to prove. The main reason for this was because the violations weren't reported very often. Even when they were reported, they were rarely prosecuted. Perpetrators of hate rarely came up and said to an officer that they picked their victim because of their racial, religious, or gender identity.
The word hate meant something different to the legal system than it did to the public. Prince could prove that a crime had been committed. But could he prove why it was done?
The police officer who'd met Prince on the track did have a point; the victim of this particular crime was white. The assailants, who were also white, had been yelling anti-Latino, anti-Black, and anti-Asian slurs. There was even a mention of a few homophobic epithets thrown in by the Henchmen. Crow identified with none of those designations.
So, while there had definitely been an intentional assault, had that assault been hate-induced when the victim wasn't the target of the hate? Prince didn't doubt for a second that it was. But belief alone wasn't enough in the justice system. He had to prove it.
Roman Voigt, the driver for the Henchmen, insisted that it was a mistake that he hit Crow's car. The track officials and the police had accepted that answer. Sure, they'd meted out a fine and a penalty. But missing one race wasn't a big deal.
Crow could sue in civil court for injury, but Prince knew better. Crow and all the brothers of the Watchers Crew would prefer to take their justice either to the streets, back on the track, or, more than likely, divide it between both avenues. Prince knew this would escalate. The next time someone could end up dead. It was only a matter of time.
Prince sighed and picked up his cube again. He gave it a few twists and turns until the colors were scrambled, and then he began to work the process again.
Three years ago, Prince had been overjoyed at going to Washington, D.C. to work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation's Hate Crime task force. Born with an innate sense of justice, Prince believed he would be fighting the fight to keep the scales of justice in balance. The problem was that justice was not only blind in this case; it had been handicapped.
If only he had more data to work with. There was a lack of reporting by the local police department. He didn't think it was malicious — not entirely. It was mainly due to lack of training. The city didn't even have a formal FBI field office. He'd set up in the District Attorney's office.
He put down the cube that he'd solved yet again. Still, he had no solutions in the crime set out before him. He ran his hands over his face. There was a hint of citrus on his index finger from the lemonade he'd had at lunch. It couldn't hide that sweet hint of Gabby on his fingertips. Nothing had doused that scent in three years.
Prince closed his eyes, just for a moment, and let his mind sail back to that night in the pool house. He brushed one thumb across the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. He parted her pink labia with the other. She'd been so wet for him, and she'd smelled so sweet.
He'd only meant to finger her, to show her how good it was supposed to feel before the next guy. But the thought of anyone else between her legs had made him snap. Before he knew it, he'd latched on to her. Her sweet nectar had spread to his brain, infecting his every sense, contaminating his blood, allowing him to continue with the bad decision of delving his tongue into the depths of where his cock wanted to be.
"It's great having you back, Yohaness."
The cube clattered to the desk as Prince jerked out of his sinful memories. He stood and put his hands behind his back. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as though to hide the evidence of what he'd done. He turned a downcast face to the man that had used his given name.
Not many people used his birth name. Not since he was very young and had been poked at for having a name that sounded like Your Highness. Instead, people had started calling him Prince. But this man had known him since his birth.
Mr. Hernandez, better known as Gabby's dad, also known as the district attorney, shoved a hand in Prince's direction. Prince looked down at that hand. His own hand clenched, and he hesitated to give Mr. Hernandez his palm. If the man knew what Prince's fingers had done to his daughter three years ago, he would be slugging him across the face.
But he didn't know. No one knew. And it would never happen again. In the end, Prince shook the hand of the man whom he had a world of respect for.
"It's good to be back, Mr. H," said Prince. "I just hope I can't get enough evidence for you to bring this case to trial."
Mr. Hernandez shook his head. His eyes sparkling, so much like his daughter's. Prince felt a momentary pang in his chest. He hadn't seen Gabby's mischievous, determined eyes in three years.
"We're in desperate need of training for the local police force," Mr. Hernandez was saying. "Especially now with our new governor in place. I have a feeling more events like this will take place. And we'll need to be ready."
The new governor had won on a platform of divisiveness, fear, and segregation. Though the city of Prince's birth was diverse, the new governor had been able to get a lot of folks living in the rural areas out to vote for the first time in years. Men and women who'd given up on the government as it became more and more progressive came out of the woodworks, thus landing him the election.
"Do you think the Hate Crimes Division would loan you out to help us train local law enforcement?"
Prince gave no answer. He didn't voice his frustrations with his division of the FBI. He didn't let Mr. Hernandez know that he was questioning his role with the bureau, that he didn't believe he was doing much to help with keeping the scales of justice in balance. That he was doubting the ability of the FBI to uphold their mission of protecting and defending citizens against threats and enforcing the laws of the land. He didn't let Mr. Hernandez know that he felt less like a leader in the criminal justice system, and more like its victim who had his head repeatedly banging against a brick wall.
"You should come over for dinner tonight," said Mr. Hernandez.
Prince was tempted. Mrs. Hernandez was a wizard in the kitchen.
"I'm sure Gabby would love it."
Prince froze. His mouth flooded with desire making it necessary to swallow once, twice. His eyes went to the calendar on the desk.
Gabby should be in school. He was certain of it. He'd downloaded the university's academic calendar each year she'd been away. But a closer look at the calendar told him it was nearing the university's spring break.
Fuck.
He scratched at his stomach. He pulled at his collar. His eyes flitted from the calendar, to his keys, then back to the pile of paperwork on his desk.
She was here. Maybe she was just home for the day. It was her senior year. Surely she'd be spending spring break, her last spring break of college, with her friends lounging on a beach somewhere.
"I need to get to the hospital," Prince said instead of giving Mr. Hernandez an answer. "I have a few more questions for Christopher."
Mr. Hernandez nodded and stepped aside. Prince left his suit jacket on his chair and instead grabbed for his motorcycle jacket. He did have some more questions for Crow, but he needed to clear his head first. A ride was just the thing to do that.
He left the building and hopped on his Harley-Davidson Super Glide. He'd flown in from D.C. and rented a car for the week he'd planned to stay. But as soon as he'd hit the garage, he'd traded in the rental keys for his bike. He didn't have much opportunity to ride in the District, with work keeping him busy and the city's abundance of bad drivers making him leery. He took the long way to the hospital, enjoying the fresh air and the freedom from confinement of a cubical or the stress of a crime scene.
He parked his bike with reluctance and entered the hospital. He hadn't seen his brother's friends in a long time. The Watchers Crew partied wild, just as wild as the Baztards had partied back when they were that young. But Prince hadn't partied for a long while, not with the new life he had.
It would be good to see all the boys of the Watcher's Crew. Just thinking about the tight-knit group of guys made him miss his own crew. He knew he should make the time to see Chief and Sully. The question was, did he want to?
One crew at a time.
He'd already talked with all four member of the Watchers Crew the previous day. But it wouldn't hurt to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Perhaps the Henchmen had aimed some of their vitriol directly at Crow. Perhaps he could get Crow to launch a civil suit. He knew none of the boys were hurting for money. He didn't ask where it came from. He didn't want to dig too deeply and inadvertently find out either.
He headed over to the reception area of the hospital. Now that Crow was out of the woods, he'd recently been moved and Prince needed to get the new room number. There was a pretty nurse behind the station. She didn't look like a real nurse. She looked like a Halloween caricature of a nurse.
Her uniform was just a tad tight. Even though she wore scrubs, there was more than a hint of cleavage showing. Her covered legs were miles long, but the cotton covering them showed their definition. When her gaze rose to meet his, Prince felt like she was giving him an x-ray and a full physical examination all at once.
"Excuse me?" he said. "I'm looking for Christopher Trent's room?"
"I'll take you," she said, her lips curled into a carnivorous grin as she sashayed in front of him.
Prince checked her out. Though his cock wasn't interested, he was still a man. She was beautiful, but she wasn't his type. She might have been his type years ago when he rode more often and ran with a rougher crowd. But even now, he didn't feel a twinge of interest.
"You one of Crow's brothers?" she asked.
"Not by blood. I'm Eagle's brother. My name's Yohaness."
"Excuse me? Did you say your name was Your Highness?"
"Pretty much," Prince grinned. "My mother believes in the power of names."
"Mine, too. I'm Cleopatra. I have two brothers; Solomon and Khan."
"She named you all after various kings and queens."
"Yeah, depending on our dad's heritage. Your mom named your brother Eagle?"
"No, she didn't." Prince smiled not giving up Eagle's given name. He could tell she was hedging. He wondered if his brother had gotten into her scrubs. It was likely. This woman looked exactly like the type to bend Eagle to his knees. Prince decided he liked her instantly.
"It's nice to meet you, Yohaness."
"No one calls me that." No one but his mother and Gabby's dad. "Everyone calls me Prince."
There was laughter coming from Crow's room. It was light and feminine with a double dose of sweetness and the slightest hint of mischief. Prince froze in his tracks.
He knew the sound of that voice. It had tickled him the first time he'd played peekaboo with her as a baby. It had made him dizzy the first time he'd picked her up and twirled her around. It had gripped his heart the first time she'd tossed her hair over her shoulder to reveal she'd grown breasts and curves. It had put his cock on ice when he heard the high-pitched scream of his name in the throes of passion.
Prince leaned on the doorjamb. Gabby stood on the far side of Crow's hospital bed. She stood there not as the child he tried to hold onto in his mind. She stood there in pinup glory. She wore a bright sundress that brought out the sparkle of her eyes. The dress was cinched at the waist accenting every curve from her breasts to her hips down to her exposed calves. Her hair was done up in curls and her lips were fire-engine red. Prince's cock jumped in his pants, pushing at his zipper to get across the room.
Gabby giggled as Crow waggled his eyebrows at her. Prince hadn't heard what the blond man had said. But he looked at the injured man laying impotent in the bed, and he wanted to break his leg.
"Keep talking to my baby sister like that and I will hurt you," Hawk growled.
"Do I look like I'm stupid enough to make a move on your sister?" grinned Crow. "My fiancé aside, I don't have a death wish."
"Can you imagine what it was like growing up with two guard dogs?" Gabby punched Eagle.
"Don't you mean three?" Eagle looked up to find his brother framing the door.
And then Gabby cocked her head. It was a delicate move, like a bird sensing a shift in the wind. She took an inhale, like a lioness scenting that the king of the jungle was near.
Prince had the insane desire to run away like a deer in fear for its life. At the same time, he felt the urgency to hold still like a bug on the wall. Maybe if he didn't move, she wouldn't spot him. If she didn't spot him, she wouldn't be able to crush him with that wide smile of hers. She wouldn't be able to pin him with those sparkling eyes.
Gabby turned her head to him. Her eyes skated over him, brief and efficient. Her smile was all her mother's; a socialite at a party, making nice with an acquaintance she hadn't seen in some time.
"Yohaness," she said, her voice a trickle of polite airiness. "I didn't know you were in town."
Prince's lips pressed together. His eyes narrowed. Gabby never called him by his given name. She never stood still when he came into a room. She'd always light up, squeal, and make a mad dash into his arms.
Not today.
Today, she stood prim and proper in a dress straight out of the fifties. It outlined her bust in the shape of a heart. It cinched in her tiny waist before flaring out along her generous hips. And still, she stood there immobile, smiling politely at him with a friendly gaze.
Prince couldn't find his voice. He couldn't feel his tongue. He couldn't blink.
"I'm surprised you weren't the first person he called," said Hawk. "He's always been wrapped around your little finger since you were born."
"I don't have his new number," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. She turned back to Crow and gave him a wide smile. "Listen, I'm going to get out of your hair." Gabby leaned over and gave Crow a kiss on the forehead. "I'm glad you're well, Christopher. Maybe slow down next time."
"Ha-ha," grinned Crow. "You coming to my homecoming party tonight?"
"No." Hawk, Eagle, and Prince all said in unison.
"Just like old times," said Gabby with a giggle. She turned to Nurse Cleo. "I wasn't allowed in their fort as a kid either, but other girls were."
She turned and headed towards Prince. Prince weaved away from the door frame and braced for impact. But her gaze was trained on the floor. Her steps were slow and even. Her hands were down at her side.
He tensed as the scent of her neared him. And then he realized, as her gaze didn't connect with his, she was going to walk right past him.
And she did.
She walked right past him and out the door. Prince turned and stared at her ass as it moved up and down beneath her dress. She was about to cross the threshold and she hadn't even touched him.
But then, she paused and turned. "It was nice to see you again, Prince."
"You too, Gabby."
It was only a two second stare. None of the other people in the room caught it. Then Gabby flipped a stray curl over her shoulder and walked out.
"Prince, you're coming to the party tonight, right?" said Crow.
"I'm too old to be going to any of your parties," Prince said.
His eyes were still latched on Gabby and her long legs. She'd always had long legs, but had they always moved like that? Like she was strutting because she knew she had sunshine between her legs. Prince knew for a fact that there was sunshine between her legs. He knew because he'd been so cold for so long outside of their warmth.
"How long are you in town for?" asked Hawk.
"Not long," said Prince as he watched Gabby pause and push the button for the elevator. She smiled at a man in a white coat as he came to stand next to her. "I just have some questions to ask you about the race."
"You think you can prosecute those dipshits for a hate crime?" asked Crow.
Gabby stepped into the elevator with the doctor. The man leaned down and said something to make her laugh. Prince grit his teeth as the doors closed them in.
"Listen," Prince said to Crow without turning around. "Can I give you a call and talk about the case later?"
"Sure thing," said Crow.
But the man sounded far away. Prince was already headed to the stairwell. He bounded down the stairs until he got to the ground floor. He yanked open the exit door and looked around the parking lot.
He didn't see her car. He didn't see her. Until…
Prince walked over to his bike. Gabby ran her hand over the handlebars. She pressed her palm into the leather of the seat. She turned when he approached.
"Hey," she grinned, her eyes sparkling up at him. "You think I could get a ride home?"