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Chapter Twenty-Three – Kennedy

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Talking about wealth stirred thoughts of Mosi and the wild, chaotic life she got swept into with him. The fret that had been swimming in her head all afternoon overtook her mind. She tried hard to quell her anxiety over the news bomb Big Jim had dropped earlier. He thinks Iniko opened the gate?

She hadn’t remembered either shutting it or leaving it open. True, she could be completely anal when it came to animal and staff safety, but she’d also been well on her way to out of control. She and Mosi had begun to fight more. Life in the African royal family was hard enough but coupled with her insecurity at not fitting in, she remained in a constant state of tension. Mosi’s dad adored her, his mom despised her, convinced she’d never in a million years be good enough for her beautiful boy.

“She isn’t royalty,” his mother, a beautiful African queen had been heard to say, her hard-edged voice like the finely cut edge of a diamond.

Iniko insisted on whisking Mosi away to attend to “family business.” Mosi usually returned from said business grouchy and perturbed, telling her nothing except his brother made trouble for the family. Never unkind, he kept secrets. And then Mosi died. And yeah, Iniko had been the loudest, the most vocal, insisting Kennedy had left the gate open and demanding punishment and reparation. She’d been bereft with grief at the loss of Mosi, troubled to think she was to blame. Her dependence on substance grew out of proportion, as she fought to numb herself from her actions.

Now, as she sat in the car with this gorgeous man by her side, sharing meaningful discussion, the conversation with Big Jim kept side-railing her enjoyment. She wondered if she should call it a night before it even began and head to a meeting. She reached for her phone, checked the time, put it down. Glanced at it a few seconds later.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Dante asked. He reached for her hand. “I can hear you ruminating over something. Was it something I said that upset you?”

“No, sorry. It’s, uh...it’s nothing.” She smiled wanly and tried to be present.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” Dante said, a sweet smile dancing along his face.

“I need to stop somewhere. I got some disturbing news today, and I need to talk to someone. She, uh...she’s only available at a certain time.” She winced. Okay, it’s not an out and out lie, only a stretch of the truth.

Dante’s face fell. “I can be supportive. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“You can,” he insisted. “I’ll listen.”

“Just...please...I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Dante looked...what? Mad? Perturbed? She didn’t want him to be upset with her. “Look. This dating thing is new to me. I’m barely over one year clean and sober. You have no idea how hard I worked to get here. I still feel like a newborn baby. I never want to go back to old behaviors. I wasn’t a nice person for a while. I only need to stop somewhere, get what I need and I’ll get back in the car more grounded. Please.”

“You’re not going to pick up some drugs, are you?” His eyes grew flinty. “Because this is just the kind of thing Maddy would do—leave me to go do something important and return with a dreamy look on her face and needle marks up her arm.”

“No! Definitely not!” Her eyes grew moist as she pleaded with him. She didn’t want to have to argue about her need for sanity and her desire for mental health.

He must have sensed how important this was to her, because, after a few seconds, he nodded.

“I can take a taxi and meet you at Crow & Wicket.”

“Not dressed like that. You’ll have every boy from here to there following you. I’ll wait.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. I want to. Where are we headed?”

“One block over.” She gave him the address.

Dante maneuvered the Porsche through traffic, around the corner, coming to a stop in front of a massive, ornate church. A gigantic stained glass window, nestled in a massive stone, rested between two looming spires. His face furrowed as he said, “I’ll be in the parking area, over there.”

“All I need to do is touch base with a friend, and I’ll be out before you know it.”

“Uh huh,” Dante said, flatly. “I’ll be here.”

It seemed as if a wall thicker than the church walls had been erected between them, but Kennedy felt like she had no choice. Torn between wanting to please him and needing to take care of herself, it took her a few seconds to get up the nerve to exit the car. Without looking back at him, she let herself out.

She hustled around the side and let herself into the small room that served as a meeting space for groups of every kind.

People sat in folding chairs, all listening intently to the guy speaking at the front of the room. No one paid her any mind. She sat demurely in the back, glancing around, searching for Nancy. When she spied her, two rows up, she instantly calmed. She took a moment to let the safety of the group wash over her. Here, she could speak freely, without holding anything back. Here, she learned how to be honest, with herself and with the group. This place served as a safe harbor, a place to abide without judgment.

The person at the front, a young man she recognized as Stetson Jones, shared his feelings. He spoke about his fear of the future, his fear of dating again, his fear of losing his way...all the thoughts she’d been immersed in. It was like he spoke her mind for her. She let out a deep sigh and repeated words of gratitude in her mind.

At that moment, Nancy turned around and saw her. She quickly, quietly slid from her seat, coming to sit beside Kennedy. “You okay?” she whispered into Kennedy’s ear. “You look beyond fabulous, by the way. Does this attire count as armor or invitation?”

“Thanks. Probably both. And I’m okay now I’m here. I’m supposed to be on a date. Dante’s actually sitting in the car outside. He doesn’t know why I’m in here.”

Nancy’s face flashed recognition. “Dante’s last name doesn’t happen to be Vega, does it?” Nancy asked.

“One and the same. I had a mad crush on Dante in high school, like I told you. He’s back.”

“When you told me you were dating a rock star I was thinking some pick-up band kind of guy. Not a major superstar like the lead singer of Marked Love. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Not at all. But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Let’s go out in the hall.”

Standing outside the door, Kennedy proceeded to tell Nancy about what Jim had revealed today.

“That’s good news, Kennedy. How does that make you feel?”

“Relieved. Suspicious. Confused. That whole period is a blur. I was already nervous, anxious, worried about Mosi, wondering why he’d stopped sharing with me. He’d leave with Iniko, return angry and walled off. That’s when I began drinking, as I’ve already told you.”

“Right. And you began using the pain meds you got when you sprained your ankle, to cope.”

“Exactly. Which turned into better, stronger drugs obtained through Prince Iniko after Mosi died. I’ve always thought he wanted to keep me high. He wanted to paint me as someone despicable. And we don’t really know if Iniko left the gate open. I was the last one working on it.”

“Yes, but in ‘court-speak’ it’s plausible doubt.”

“Maybe. But it adds to my confusion.” She huffed out a sigh. “Honestly, Nancy, dating Dante has stirred me into a froth. It’s like my heart is coming out of hibernation and I’m beginning to feel again. And all sorts of feelings are arising like a tempest, not just the happy, fa-la-la ones you get when you’re dating.”

“That’s what the meetings are for. That’s why I’m here. How can I be of service?”

“You’re already doing it just by being you. I really should get back to my date. I was sitting with Dante, chatting about wealth and thinking of Mosi and I got so stirred up, I thought I would blow up.”

“And you came here instead of using. Remember that. Good girl.”

Another sigh escaped her lips. “Thanks. Okay, I think I’ve got this.”

“Text me any time. And you might try honesty with Dante. You need to know whether he’s capable of dealing with your recovery. If he isn’t, as hard as it might be, cut him loose. You want a healthy relationship based on trust, right? No more secrets. You told me Mosi’s secrets were like snakes to your soul.”

“They sure were. I never knew what was going on with Mosi at the end. I begged him to tell me what this so-called family business was about, especially if I was to become part of his family. He said it was men’s business, royal business, and couldn’t be shared.”

“That must have hurt.”

“It did. It’s like I was destined to be an outsider for life, living a fake, glamorous lifestyle. The only thing real for me, and I mean the only thing, was and is my tigers.”

“Step up to the plate, girl. Take a swing at letting Dante in. You’ll find out soon enough if he’s man enough to be with you.”

“Thanks, Nancy.” She hugged her sponsor and stepped out into the pleasant evening air.

Dante looked to be on his phone, talking animatedly with someone.

She slid into her seat and waited for him to finish. A female voice hummed through the Droid. Her stomach tightened with jealousy.

“I gotta go. She’s back,” Dante said. “Later.” He turned to her and said, “Everything okay?”

“It is.” More like it was until I heard you talking to a woman. “Who were you talking to?”

“Gia. She’s my go-to girl when I'm an asshole.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “She seems to be the only one to talk sense into me.”

What, about me? The thought rose like a small child’s whimper. The knife in her gut twisted deeper. But then, she hadn’t wanted to confide in him, either. “Are you in a relationship with her?”

His eyebrows rose high, making him appear astonished. “With Gia? Hell, no. She’s my drummer and a good friend. But she’s a crazy bi-sexual alcoholic. She treats men like snacks, women as dessert. The main course is always the thrill of the chase. No,” he repeated. “No fucking way.”

Kennedy relaxed. “Who were you an asshole to?”

“To you. In my head. And out of my mouth when I accused you of doing a drug deal. Sorry.” He let out a short laugh of sorts. “Not too many people stand up to me. I’m used to ‘yes, Mr. Vega,’ and ‘right away, Mr. Vega.’ You’re different. I was pissed at you for whatever the hell you just did.” He waved his hand in the air. “Maybe you needed to pray to Jesus or Allah, or the Buddha. Clearly, you needed to do something.” He looked at her earnestly. “It’s probably none of my business.”

“If you were a mere acquaintance, true. None of your business. Since we’re on a date, though, I should have let you in, but I was scared to.” She chewed on her lip.

His eyes softened into liquid velvet green as if he loved her answer.

“An NA meeting is taking place in one of the rooms of the church. I knew my sponsor would be there.”

Dante frowned. “So dating me requires a sponsor?”

“Being alive and healthy requires a sponsor. For me, anyway. At this point, at least. I’m sure I’ll get to the place where I don’t need them so much but I never ever, not in a million years want to live the way I was living. More like live the way I was hiding or dying or something like that.”

“Sounds pretty awful.”

“It was. I was in a relationship that probably never would have worked out, and I used addiction to hide from it all. Mosi was a prince. I was so out of my league.” She stared at Dante almost defiantly, daring him to say something snotty or derisive.

Instead, he only nodded.

“He was a real prince. His father, King Khari, is still alive and well. I was, yet again, a hopeless outsider, someone who would never quite fit in, even if I knew all the rules forward and backward.”

Again, Dante nodded, his gray-green eyes conveying, what? Compassion? Care? “So you were dating the very thing you despise. A wealthy man.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds so sleazy, Dante. What I despise is the assumed entitlement that comes from wealth. The separation...the ridiculous hierarchy and potential for corruption.” She readied herself for the argumentative backlash, but none came. He seemed to understand.

“Maybe you’re good for wealthy men. Maybe you serve as a grounding rod. You provide sanctuary like you offer your wild tigers.”

She cocked her head and studied him intently for a few seconds before resuming. “Are you talking about anyone in particular?”

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes penetrating her, offering her a soft place to land.

She considered the man before her. He didn’t fit the description of a rock star. Kindness and caring continually simmered beneath his skin, evident in looks like the one he gave her now. When the gaze became too much, she turned her head and continued.

“It didn’t work for my dad. We used to be so close. When he married the rich bitch, I watched dad turn into ‘not-dad.’ He used to be a playful guy. Sure, a little bit flaky. But always a lot of fun. Not after he met the stepmom. I can’t even call her by name. I refuse to call her my stepmom. I refuse to call her anything. Even Simon, her own flesh, and blood, can’t stand her.”

“I think people’s character flaws get larger when they’re rich. But the same flaws would be there no matter what the income status,” Dante said.

“So you’re saying my dad was always a social climber?” The words shot from her mouth, and she instantly regretted saying them.

Dante winced. “Don’t know your dad. It sounds like he wanted the best for you and he tried to give it to you by sending you to one of Manhattan’s finest private high schools. Sometimes people without money think when they get money, they’ll be happy. It ain’t like that, I can assure you.” Dark clouds moved across his features.

Kennedy tracked something soul deep in Dante’s face, but then he shook his head and told her to continue. “When I met Mosi, I never would have dreamed in a gazillion years he was a prince. I met him in the T-pen...that’s what we called the place where he did his magical, hands-on training with the tigers.

“He seemed like an ordinary guy with extraordinary skills when it came to jungle beasts. Later, I learned he worked at Beskerming in defiance to his father...his whole family, actually. And still, later, I learned of all the intrigue and corruption a royal family can contain. It wasn’t pretty.” She sighed and noticed a flash of something dark in Dante’s expression.

“He and his twin brother, Iniko, were as dissimilar as Cain and Abel. Mosi wanted to save the wild things. Iniko wanted to party, bed girls and operate his corrupt diamond enterprise. I never learned all the ins and outs of his business, but what I learned was despicable.

“Diamond miners found without the required permits were routinely beaten for bribes by soldiers and private security guards—and in some cases, killed. Mosi told me his brother ordered a mine containing ‘non-cooperative miners’ to be filled with dirt, trapping the fifty or so men inside, burying them alive. That’s only one of the atrocities I heard about.”

“Sweetheart, that sounds terrible,” Dante said, stroking her cheek with his knuckles, his face furrowed with concern.

The sudden act of gentle affection took her by surprise. She seized her lip between her teeth and nibbled. “Anyway...”

“Anyway,” he said. The word floated from his mouth like a caress.

“Jim told me something today that freaked me out. When you and I were talking about wealth, all this buried shit about my past came front and center.”

“Tell me,” he said, stroking her hair with his fingertips.

“Well...Jim thinks I didn’t leave the gate open. He thinks Iniko did, on purpose. His dad apparently cut him out of the will or something. Jim reminded me I went out with him and Mosi the night before the accident. He said I was really agitated over a conversation with Iniko. I wiped the whole thing from my memory banks. That whole period of time is a fuzzy blur.” She paused, lost in thought. “Maybe he wanted to off Mosi.” A sudden thought buzzed around her brain. “More likely, he wanted to off me.”