My Soul Is Satisfied (The Langston Family Saga Book 3) Read online

  My Soul Is Satisfied

  The Langston Family Saga: Book 3

  LaShonda Bowman

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  The New Life Tabernacle series begins with…

  Nobody’s Child

  Wanna Know More?

  Copyright © 2016 by LaShonda Bowman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To Sister Number 3 A.K.A. Little Panda

  I’ll sum it up in two words…

  “Hello, sweetie.”

  Chapter 1

  Kristina Langston wasn’t sure how much longer she’d last without knowing whether her son was dead.

  "Why isn’t anybody picking up? “

  Kristina disconnected the call and fought the urge to throw the phone at the vehicle dashboard. She couldn’t believe she’d been put on hold with the hospital.

  Again.

  She’d called on the way to the airport, while waiting for the plane to takeoff, at the car rental counter, then again, when they got the car. Now, she, Omar and Chloe were on their way to the hospital and still had no information.

  Omar stole a quick glance at her from the driver’s side before returning his attention to the road. "There was something like eight cars included in the accident. Not to mention the bus. And how many people were on there?"

  Kristina leaned her head against the passenger side window and shut her eyes. “Twelve. Thirteen, with the driver.”

  She hadn’t yet met the driver. But the others? Those twelve were everything to her. Her family and loved ones. Her closest friends. Dancers, musicians and singers she’d known for years. Her baby sister. Her son.

  "They’re probably swamped, Kris.”

  She knew he was right. It’s what made the most sense. But it didn't keep her mind from racing with all the terrible possibilities. The news reporter had speculated that there were many more fatalities than originally reported, but that's all it was, speculation.

  Supposedly, bodies were seen removed from the scene, but whether those moved were being taken to the hospital or the morgue, she had no idea. And maybe those reported dead weren't even her own. Like Omar said, there were eight other cars involved in the accident. Maybe, by some miracle, the bus looked worse off than it actually was and everyone on it walked away with no more than a few scratches or broken bones.

  What she needed to do was take a breath and remain positive. They’d be at the hospital in a few moments and would know all they needed to soon enough.

  Kristina looked at Omar. His back was straight as a board and he stared ahead at the road with the intensity of a man on a mission. He’d been holding on to the steering wheel with an iron grip from the moment they'd gotten in the car.

  Ordinarily, Pam would’ve arranged for a driver to take Kristina wherever she needed to go, but Omar insisted on driving. He said he had to do something other than sit in a backseat and twiddle his thumbs. But other than that, he’d barely spoken a word since leaving Atlanta and she knew he was probably doing the same thing she was—trying to get the horrific images he’d seen on TV out of his head. She didn't know about him, but she sure wasn't having much success.

  Every few moments, her inner eye was assaulted by visions of the twisted and smoking metal alongside the busted bits of tire and shattered glass littering the freeway. But that wasn’t all.

  What they’d seen was live aerial shots from a news helicopter camera, panning over the scene. For a moment, the cameraman zoomed in on the pileup and Kristina saw someone that’d been thrown from the wreckage. Like a rag doll that had been tossed on the floor by a careless child, the person’s legs and arms were sprawled about in an unnatural way. The cameraman finally noticed it too, because seconds later, the camera was quickly jerked away.

  Part of her was relieved for that. But as much as she didn't want to see it, another part of her wished he’d zoomed in closer so she could know whether she was looking at one of her loved ones.

  The phone rang and Kristina jumped to answer it.

  "It's Pam,” she said, putting it to her ear. "Hello?"

  "Has she heard anything? Does she know—“

  Kristina put her hand up to quiet Omar.

  "Pam, I didn't catch that. Start again."

  "I said I keep getting put on hold with the hospital, but I've had the news on in the background. They've confirmed nine fatalities so far, but they’re not giving any names or more information, so I don't know how many of those are from the bus. The only thing I do know is that they’re still removing people from the wreckage. I just got a call from Amber, though. The other two buses were twenty minutes ahead of the main one. All of them are okay.”

  Kristina took a breath. “Thank God for that.”

  “Have you heard anything?"

  "No, it's been the same here. I keep getting put on hold. I've been calling Tamia’s phone, but there’s no answer. But we’re almost to the hospital. I'll call you when I know something."

  "Okay."

  "Pam?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I know how it looks, but… God's brought us through too much for this to be how it turns out. We've got to trust that.”

  A few moments of silence passed. Then Pam said, “Call me the minute you know anything. Our flight leaves in just over an hour."

  Kristina knew her sister well enough to understand what her response meant. Pam liked to call herself a realist. She was never one to look for the silver lining or get her hopes up. She did the complete opposite. “Expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed” were words she lived by.

  Not that Kristina judged her for it. If she were honest, she was part of the reason Pam found it hard to be hopeful. Her sister had spent the past fifteen years trying to hold her, her career, and their family together. Kristina didn't even know some of what Pam had seen or dealt with because Kristina spent so much of that time in a drug-induced stupor. So even if she didn't agree, she understood why Pam wouldn’t allow herself to hope for the best.

  But Kristina didn’t mind. She had enough hope for both of them. There was a time in her life when she thought she'd never be free of addiction. There were nights she would get high, hoping it was finally the night she’d overdose. But God did the impossible and set her free. If He could do that for her then, she sure wasn't about to lose heart now.

  After a quick goodbye, Kristina checked the backseat to see if Chloe was still sleeping, and then told Omar, “Nine confirmed dead. People are still being pulled out—“

  Before she could finish, sirens blared from behind them and lights flashed through the interior of the car. They looked in the rearview mirror to find an ambulance speeding in their direction and another rounding the corner
to do the same.

  Omar pulled over to let the two vehicles scream past them. But even after the street was clear, Omar didn't move a muscle. Kristina didn't have to ask why. The tight expression on his face was explanation enough.

  No parent wanted to see their child rushed away in an ambulance. But in this case, they hoped that’s exactly what happened.

  Because the alternative meant their son, the son they hardly knew, was one of the nine.

  Chapter 2

  "Oh, no,” Kristina groaned as they turned in to the parking lot and saw the front of the hospital.

  Along the edge and in front of the doors, a large crowd had gathered. Some wore huge backpacks and had long lens cameras pointed toward the hospital entrance. Others stood next to tripods, eyeing the passengers of every car that drove by. Still others held up signs and pictures of Kristina and some of Tamia, with hearts drawn on them.

  “Who are all these people?” Omar leaned forward to look out the windshield, his brows furrowed.

  “Mostly paparazzi.” Kristina squinted. “Looks like some fans, too.”

  "Maybe we should try to find a back entrance."

  "We usually need escorts for this type of thing, but we left in such a hurry, I didn’t even think about that. I have no idea how long it would take for someone to get here. We've already waited so long to know what’s going on, I'd rather just brave it."

  Kristina peered in the backseat and saw that Chloe was still sleeping.

  "Drop me off as close as you can, then go find a place to park and wait. I'll call you once I find out about another entrance."

  "No way. I'm not letting you push through that alone."

  "But what about Chloe?"

  Omar stared at his daughter in the backseat, a frown on his face. "I'll hold her. Keep her eyes and ears covered. That way we stay together."

  It was a plan easier said than done. Even with sunglasses and a hoodie over her head, Kristina was made the moment she came within five feet of the crowd. What had been a low hum of activity turned into an earsplitting cacophony of shouts, accompanied by hundreds of blinding flashes of light.

  "Kristina! Kristina! What are you feeling?"

  “Kristina! How many are dead?”

  “Kristina! Why weren’t you on the bus? Do you feel guilty?”

  Kristina kept her head low and held the back of Omar's jacket. She looked up for a moment to see how close they were to the entrance and caught a glimpse of Chloe's face. Although her father held her close and kept her head on his shoulder, the child looked terrified. Kristina relaxed her hold on his jacket and reached up to touch her, but when she did, the shuffling of the crowd separated them. Seeing the opening, the photographers encircled her like a pack of hungry wolves.

  "Have you spoken to their family members?”

  “Do they blame you for the deaths of their loved ones?”

  "We understand that some of your musicians and singers are dead. What are you feeling right now?"

  Kristina tried to move through them, but they pressed in on her, making it almost impossible to take a step forward. But even with all the chaos, she heard Omar shouting for her over the crowd. Searching in the direction of the shouts, she saw him trying to hold onto Chloe and push paparazzi out of the way at the same time.

  She raised her arm and yelled back. “Get her inside! Go!”

  Another man bumped right into her and shoved his phone in her face, the camera light on.

  "Is it true your sister was decapitated? Can you confirm that?"

  Kristina froze.

  Decapitated? Why would he even say that? Her many years in the entertainment industry had shown her what depths people would go to for a story and her experience with the paparazzi had shown her what they were willing to do for a reaction. But she’d also learned there was usually a kernel of truth to their rumors. However small, it was always there.

  "What?" Her voice sounded breathless in her ears as she rocked unsteadily, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

  He nodded his head enthusiastically, pleased to have gotten a TMZ worthy sound bite out of her.

  "We have a source on the inside, Kristina. Apparently she was—“

  Omar came out of nowhere, shoving the guy in the chest.

  "Shut your mouth, man! Show some respect!"

  The anger that flashed in Omar's eyes made Kristina worry the young man would go home with fewer teeth than he came with. To make matters worse, Chloe was whimpering and trying to cover her face with her tiny hands. Kristina grabbed Omar's arm and turned his face to her.

  "It's all right. He was just trying to get a reaction. He probably doesn't even know anything. Let's just get inside."

  Omar wrapped his free arm around her and they tried tunneling their way through the crowd again. Kristina kept her eyes down and her ears covered, so she didn't know why their task suddenly became easier until she looked up.

  Robin Jones, Pastor Thomas and a familiar looking young man in scrubs were in front of them and pushing people away to get them through.

  Once inside, Robin hugged Kristina and looked her over.

  "Are you okay? If we’d known when you were coming, we would've been out there waiting."

  "It's okay. I'm fine. But what's happening? Do you know anything? Who have they brought in?"

  Robin put her hands on Kristina and Omar’s backs and, along with Pastor Thomas and the man in scrubs, led them through the corridor.

  “I couldn’t get much information because I'm not family. But I know your son is here. Esther is in with the doctor. She should be out soon. She'll be able to tell you more. Where's Pam?"

  "We came the minute we saw the news report. She stayed behind to pack and make hotel arrangements for everyone, but she’ll be here in a few hours.”

  "Okay, well, I have to go out of town tomorrow, but you’re all welcome to stay at my house if you'd like. It may be more comfortable than a hotel." She looked over Kristina’s shoulder in the direction they’d come from. Hospital security was trying to manage the crowd and prevent people from taking pictures through the sliding glass doors. “It might be more private, too."

  "Really?"

  “Of course. I’ll talk to Pam when she gets here and work out all the details."

  Robin rubbed Chloe's back. "And who's this beautiful little lady?"

  Kristina was immediately reminded of the calming effect Robin's presence had on others. Chloe, who’d looked terrified only moments before, was now giving a shy smile.

  "I'm Chloe."

  "Chloe? What a beautiful name. It fits you!"

  "Thank you."

  When the group reached the waiting room, it was overflowing with people. Most were too grief stricken and worried to pay them any mind. But a few recognized Kristina and whispered while watching her.

  No sooner than they found a free corner to stand in, Esther Morris, Xavier’s adoptive mother, came out of the double doors with her husband, Deacon, close behind. After a few introductions, Esther told them what she knew.

  "He's in surgery right now. He suffered multiple contusions to the head and face. There are some internal injuries and broken bones, but what they’re most concerned about right now is the apparent swelling on the brain."

  "Oh, Lord…" Omar whispered

  Robin put her hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you let me take Chloe for a walk? It's a little crowded in here anyway, isn't it?" Chloe nodded, obviously uncomfortable being in a room with so many upset people, but still hesitant to leave her father.

  “It’s all right, princess. I’ll be with you just as soon as I finish up here.”

  Satisfied with his promise, Chloe took Robin’s hand and followed her down another hall. Once they were out of earshot, Esther continued.

  "I wasn't here when they brought him in, but—“

  "I was." Deacon, towering over all of them at six foot four, looked as if he were barely managing to stay upright. "He looked…" Deacon shut his eyes and rubbed his fac
e with his hands. "There was blood everywhere. He looked like he was drowning in it."

  Esther pressed her lips together. "We just need to wait and not jump out ahead of ourselves. The night he came to us? It didn't look good then either, but he made it through, didn’t he?" Esther grabbed Kristina's hand and squeezed it.

  Kristina nodded; overwhelmed with gratitude that Esther was there. She’d never met her face to face. They’d talked on the phone only once, but then, like now, she’d felt nothing but love and warmth from the woman that mothered her son when she couldn’t.

  ”And what about Tamia? Were you able to find out anything about her?"

  "I didn't even ask. I'm not family so I know they won’t tell me anything. But now that you're here, I can take you back."

  Omar nodded at Kristina and she followed Esther through the swinging, double doors. While the waiting room was heavy with grief, worry and anticipation, behind the doors was a flurry of frantic activity. Kristina was thankful when she and Esther reached the nurse's station and some relative calm.

  “Excuse me? My name is Kristina Langston. I'm checking to see if my sister, Tamia Langston, has been brought in yet. She was one of the passengers on the bus involved in the accident."

  No sooner than she’d spoken, Kristina realized several of the nurses recognized her. Usually, that recognition caused people to approach her, or, at the very least, smile in acknowledgement. None of that happened. Instead, the nurses exchanged glances and two actually backed away. She didn’t know what to make of the expressions on their faces. Reluctance? Fear? Pity?

  The young nurse closest to her was the only one who attempted to speak. "Um…"

  But then, just as quickly, she lost her nerve and looked at the nurse next to her, who quickly turned his attention to the computer screen in front of him. Finding no help there, the young nurse turned back to Esther and Kristina.

  "Could you, uh, give me just a moment?"

  Without waiting for an answer, she made a beeline to an older nurse on the other side of the station, checking a patient's chart.