Loving a Bad Boy by Erosa Knowles Page A

answering.
“Hello?”
    There was the shortest pause on the other
end, and then what she would’ve sworn was muffled cursing. “Put Tex
on the phone.” The menace in the voice sent chills down her spine.
He certainly didn’t sound like a friend. And then another thought
pushed through her fatigue. What if this was the person who'd shot
Tex in the first place. He certainly sounded more like an enemy
than a friend.
    Shoulders squared, she made a snap decision.
Tex couldn’t fend for himself, so she’d take care of him. “Can’t do
that,” she said and disconnected the call. A feeling of
satisfaction roared through her as she cleaned more of the dried,
sticky blood off the device. Her finger paused over the number one
to make the call per Tex’s request when it jingled again. The
Caller ID said private. But she knew it was the guy she’d hung up
on.
    Answering, she said, “hold on.” She pushed
the pause button and dialed the number one.
    It was answered before the first ring
completed. “What game are you playing?” the same angry voice
asked.
    Swallowing hard, she glanced at the phone.
“He wanted me to call…you?” The question in her voice wasn’t meant
to be rude, but she was baffled. Who was this guy? Was this Tex’s
boss? She had no idea. Now that she thought about it, Tex had eaten
Sunday dinner at her place at least four times in the past two
months and they had never discussed personal stuff. At the time she
was grateful because she didn’t want to delve into her family
history. But what about him? She knew very little about the
handsome black guy she’d considered a nice dinner companion. They'd
talked about current affairs, lightweight politics and music, but
nothing personal.
    Her stomach dropped. Oh
hell. What had she gotten into? Should she call Mike? She and the
investigator had become friends of a sort.
    “ Where is Tex?” the voice
growled, his impatience thrummed through the line.
    “ On the floor.” She spoke
without thinking. There was a discernible pause.
    “ The floor?”
    Pam wasn’t fooled by the silkiness of his
voice. She had already heard, and if she wanted to be honest –
felt, his menacing tone earlier. This man was totally different
from easy-going Tex. Or at least the Tex she ate dinner with. Birds
of a feather? God, she hoped not. All she had done was open the
door and take care of her occasional Sunday dinner guest. Now the
devil had come knocking.
    Sighing, she wrapped her arm around her
waist and closed her eyes. Today had certainly started raggedy and
she didn’t see it getting better any time soon. Resigned that this
was the person Tex wanted to care for him, she tempered her tone
and started over. “Look, he told me to punch in the number one on
his phone; but things got a little out of hand for a while and I
didn’t get around to calling you. Sorry about that, but—”
    “ Who am I speaking
to?”
    “ Pam, I'm a neighbor of
Tex’s. I live on the—”
    “ Fifth floor. Yeah, I
know. Why is he on your floor?” His entire tone changed. He sounded
genuinely curious. Perhaps he was a friend after all.
    “ I needed him stretched
out to stop the bleeding. He refused to go to the
hospital—”
    “ Bleeding? What happened
to him?”
    Pam bit back the urge to snap at his
rudeness. “If you let me finish a sentence, I can tell you what I
know,” she bit out and waited. When he said nothing, she told him
everything that had happened up until he called.
    There was silence on the other end of the
phone. For a moment, she thought he had hung up. “Hello?”
    “ I’m still
here.”
    “ Look, it’s late and I
need to get a few things done before tomorrow. Well, it’s already
tomorrow. How soon can the doctor get here? Like I said, I only
stopped the bleeding.” Exhaustion weighed her down. Her eyeballs
hurt and she needed to clean the blood from her skin.
    “ Within the hour. Thank
you for your help.”
    “ Just so you know, if
there is no licensed