Page 22 of Giovanni

Lunch with Layla was enjoyable. We laughed, talked and while nothing was seriously said, I found the beautiful woman highly intellectual and knowledgeable about many subjects. She was an absolute delight to be around, and for the first time in my life, I actually found myself relaxing and enjoying someone’s company other than my family.

She never talked or mentioned how she came to be in my care, preferring to talk about her time in California with her brother and growing up in Tennessee.

I was actually shocked to hear she was born in the south. I would have never imagined it. She didn’t seem like the typical southerner. Layla was well poised and refined. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said her mother taught her, but now I wasn’t so sure anymore. Every time I thought I figured her out, she would say or do something that shocked me, making me question my original thought.

The fact was, Layla was an enigma. A puzzle. And though I knew looks could be deceiving, I was intrigued and wanted to learn more.

We finished lunch and had just returned to the plane when I heard Dwayne shout, “I’m not doing it!”

God help me. He was going to make me teach him some manners. Stubborn oaf.

Layla giggled as she walked up the steps to the plane's cabin. “He is obstinate, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea,” I muttered, following.

“I want off this tin can, Dwayne. What’s the problem? It will grow back!”

“That’s not the point. I ain’t part of his family. Never have been. I don’t have to follow his rules. Until Reaper tells me to do something, I ain’t doing shit!”

“It’s just a damn haircut and shave!”

“Do you know how long I’ve been growing this beard? Years!”

“Only took me a few months to grow mine out,” Reggie whispered as he got comfortable in the chair. I said nothing as I helped Layla to her seat, sitting in the seat next to her.

Something’s never changed.

No matter how old he got, I could always count on Dwayne to be obstinate and foul-mouthed. I wasn’t asking for a kidney. Just a simple haircut and shave. That was all and maybe shower and clean clothes. Seriously, how could he stand wearing the same dirty thing day in and day out? Then again, this was Dwayne I was talking about. The man lived in perpetual filth. I could remember when my Aunt threatened to use the garden hose on him if he didn’t shower, and I think she actually did once or twice.

Dwayne Michael Buchannon was a pain in the ass, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. I was actually starting to wonder how Reaper dealt with him. Did Dwayne show his President this attitude?

“I think you’ll look handsome with a clean face, Massacre,” Layla said as I shook my head and looked at something on my phone. “Don’t you agree, Giovanni?”

I looked up and smiled. “You are absolutely right,Cara. Dwayne would look so much better clean-shaven.”

Layla smiled brilliantly.

I turned from Layla and clearly said to my cousin, “You are not leaving this plane with that scruff on your face Dwayne. Either let Sebastian shave your face, or I will have my men hold you down, and I will shave you myself. Either way, you are cleaning yourself up.”

He was about to say something when Reggie’s phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he looked puzzled. Didn’t he have caller I.D.? “It’s an unknown caller.”

“Answer it, and then the caller will not be unknown,” I sighed, shaking my head as I never looked up from his phone. Even I knew the only way to find out who was calling was to answer the ringing phone. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.

“Yeah?”

The cabin went eerily quiet as we all heard a firm male speak.

“Hey, Reaper! How’s everything going in California? Define safe.”

Reggie grimaced. “Oh, she’s fine. In fact, she’s smiling at me right now. Um, he’s being Massacre.”

Reggie wasted no time handing the phone to his brother. Dwayne sighed, put the phone to his ear, and said, “Yeah… No… But he wants me too…But I don’t want to…Yes…Yes…Fine…”

Reggie finished the call, then turned to his brother with a big grin on his face, pointed to the chair, and said, “Your turn. The Prez ordered it.”

“I fucking hate this.”

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Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime