The Quarter Storm: A Novel (Mambo Reina) by Veronica G. Henry

Author:Veronica G. Henry [Henry, Veronica G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2022-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

The door banged open and crashed against the back wall. The sweet musk of his cologne hit me next. Roman strutted in, with two other officers at his heels.

They may as well have been bookends, so similar in appearance were they. Fresh faces that suggested they’d just graduated the academy. The pair wore their bravado in the creases of their pants and the grimaces on their faces.

They yanked me up by the pits of my arms and dragged me, a duly initiated mambo, out of there like a sack of potatoes. I yanked away, an ineffectual gesture given where I was. We followed Roman down a hall where all eyes followed us, and I tried to struggle with my waning dignity. It felt like they’d already slapped cuffs on me.

“Have it your way,” came one officer’s voice from behind me. “Can’t say we don’t appreciate the view from back here.”

Roman froze, then turned. “It ain’t going to be about all that,” he said. The cop held up his hand in mock surrender, and the other one smirked.

And Erzulie wasn’t having it. She bubbled to life in my body, and I heated up like an overdone king cake. I relished the feel of her heat coursing through my veins and swore at the fact that I couldn’t raise a hand to protect myself. Doing so would only further convince them of Salimah’s guilt.

“In there.” Roman pointed at an open office without looking at me. I was shoved into the room. He strode in after me and slammed himself into a nice leather chair behind a neat desk.

The two officers still stood near the open door, but when Roman glared at them, they left, closing the door behind them. We watched each other, both breathing hard with indignation. He waved a manicured hand at a chair. “Sit down, Reina.”

“If I’m not under arrest, I’ll stand.”

“Sit your ass down, Reina,” he said.

I didn’t like his tone but figured if I put my ego aside, maybe I’d spend the night at home instead of in a cell. With as much attitude as I could muster, I sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. I took the one that let me see the door from the corner of my eye.

“Using Lucien as a calling card? Nice touch. Already had your mind made up, didn’t you? Didn’t matter what I said, never did,” Roman said. He’d called Lucien by his first name. Curious.

I let my eyes roll up under the guise of really contemplating this ridiculous question. I would give him a ridiculous answer in return. “You got thoughts on so many things, Roman. It’s so hard to remember what you’re talking about.”

That little split between Roman’s eyes became even more pronounced, as it always did when I made him really angry. He thinned his lips and grabbed a pen. He did that thing where he tapped the end on the desk, flipped it over, tapped the other end, and repeated until I couldn’t see straight.

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