“Rochelle, you don’t have to stand there and take that.”
“Get him out of here,” Salvita demanded
The taller guard steps closer, placing his hand on Dontae’s shoulder.
“It’s cool. I’m just talking.” Dontae’ stated, in submission.
“Dontae’ it’s okay. Just go. I’ll be fine. Just go.” Rochelle said, not wanting Dontae to get hurt on her behalf. Even if he managed to fend off these two guards, there were more, and he knew he couldn’t beat them all. This wasn’t the time or place to blow his cover.
“You sure?” He asked with one last head tilt.
She nods, and he walks out of the room.
“What the fuck just happened.” He thought as he walks down the smokey hall in a daze. “She knew me.” He didn’t know if he should be scared that she would blow his cover, confused about how she knew him, or just numb because this was too much to take in at once.
The outside of the stadium was empty except for a few stragglers possibly waiting to see if Rochelle would come out and give them autographs. As he walked to the car, he could hear a little girl crying hysterically while trying desperately to get away from her mother as the woman spoke in Spanish, trying to calm her.
“no se que te ha pasado.” The woman screamed.
“Quiero a mi mami.” The little girl cried.
“Yo soy tu mama ¿Estás jodidamente loco?” The woman shouted, dragging the girl by the arm.
Dontae’ didn’t know Spanish but noticing two car seats in the back of a newer model minivan, the stroller with another baby, and the husband rubbing his forehead in frustration, Dontae’ deduced that this wasn’t a child trafficking situation and continued to his car.
Ω
The city was bustling with people, and Dontae’ was just another face in the crowd. He had picked up a pair of sunglasses along with some of Jessi’s father’s finest suits from his closet. He figured they would come in handy if he needed to look the part of a man that could afford a room in the luxurious hotel. The landscaping was unique, with little diamonds cut into the hedges lining the front round-a-bout leading to the entrance. The fountain dripped steadily and could be seen as the centerpiece of the place. The smell of steak steamed from the restaurant next door as it filled the air with the scent of rich people’s eating habits. A red Bentley with red rims was parked just right of the entrance signifying that the owner either wanted to protect it, was too lazy to walk from the standard parking lot, or wanted to show his wealth. Dontae’ figured all three. “What a dick.” He mumbles as he walks into the entrance.
The woman at the front counter was young and very attractive. He wonders what she was doing working there but only for a second. This was the kind of place that looked extremely classy and upscale, but underneath was a ticket to the underworld of expensive drugs, sex, and overall sick shit. Dontae’ spent time investigating a wealthy entrepreneur who had a thing for young girls and abusing women. His nickname was Cloak. Dontae’ never figured out why people called him that only the rumors surrounding the name in which one stated he would wear a white cloak and flap around the room as if he was flying. Fully naked underneath. This was the one Dontae’ stuck close to because he found it funny and wanted to make sure that this less of a man didn’t get any respect. Cloak would find sex trafficked girls and beat them during sex to the point that they would blackout. This was the sickest shit Dontae’ had ever come across. Cloak made the mistake of murdering one of the girls in one of his sex tirades bringing Dontae’ into the mix. With all the evidence in the world, the bastard got off. They claimed the defense that the girl didn’t exist. The same girl they had found the body of and plenty of pictures of her with Cloak. She was an undocumented immigrant from Mexico, so in the court's eyes, she was nothing. This beautiful young girl’s life was taken by this repulsive fat fucking son of a bitch, and he just laughed his way out of the courtroom. Dontae’ could remember that her mother showed up to the trial, and the sound of the weep that she wept will never leave his thoughts. It’s hard to say if it was fortune or if Dontae’ was subconsciously following the guy, but he caught him red-handed in the middle of a sex act with an underage girl. Dontae’ beat the living shit out of him, putting the man in a coma. The man survived, and Dontae’ was never charged. The sick bastard was murdered in prison by an inmate that stated “God” told him to do it. Dontae’ knew it was wrong, but he had never wished death upon anyone more than he wished it on Cloak.
Dontae takes out the burner phone and dials while watching the woman.
“Hi, thanks for calling St. Regis Atlanta; how may I assist you?” she asks while clearly in his view.
“Hi, I would like to know if you have a pamphlet on the city of Atlanta.”
“We have quite a few. Are you looking for attractions, nightlife-“
“-I need one on libraries.” He said, being the oddest thing he could think of at the time.
“That, I’m not sure of. Give me a second and let me check.”
She places him on hold as he watches her go towards the back of the lobby. This was his chance. He rushes through the doors and to the elevator. He presses. “13”. He waits, and he notices the woman walking back to the desk. As the doors open, he can hear her saying, “Hello? Hello?” smirking knowing he had already hung up the phone.
The elevator doors open, and Dontae steps out to an almost empty hall. A woman walks with a cleaning cart
