A Desert King's Obsession

by Christine Gray

  “I have business to take care of,” I announce before I toss back my glass to drain the contents.

  “Will it take all night?”

  I shrug at Father’s question. “That all depends,” I reply.

  “Ah,” he whispers, looking me up and down. “Well, you’ve had enough of that for courage.” He points to my empty glass.

  “I might need more later to calm the fuck down,” I admit, getting to my feet.

  “Wow, so he knows what you’re doing, but not me,” accuses Ma.

  I don’t stop to try to justify my motives. Shit, if things go wrong, who the fuck do you think I’m going to call? Not her ass.

  “So, how did you two meet?”

  Now, I paused for that. I’ve been asking myself the same questions, and finally, Father spoke it. See, there it goes again. The clink in the wheel. The subtle knocking in the gears that put Ma and Cleveon out of groove.

  Narrowing my gaze, I perk up a bit. “Why so worked up?”

  “Well, I just don’t want to freak you out. That’s all,” she promises.

  Now, I really want to know.

  “It’s fine,” assures Cleveon. “We met online,” he rushes on to explain.

  I cut my eyes to find a blank stare on Father’s face. That’s not a good sign. The man’s thinking, analyzing. I know, because it’s my way too.

  “Like, um, what’s the one?” He glances over to me for help.

  “Facebook,” I offer.

  “No, not Facebook, but we did a little of that too later on,” admits Ma.

  Tilting his head, a deep frown creases his brow. “A dating site?” whispers Father.

  Catching the moving shadows, I turn to find one of the maids entering the room. “Sir, a—”

  “I’m coming,” I respond. I don’t want to miss this exchange.

  “It’s a place for professionals to meet and establish relationships,” corrects Ma as she straightens up on the sofa next to Cleveon.

  “Right, and usually it’s a profile pic and a survey that helps with creating those relationships,” states Father dryly. “So, did you make your profile or a friend at work?”

  “You don’t have to answer that, Cleveon,” snaps Ma, touching the man’s leg.

  “No, of course not. He’ll just let you answer for him. That way he can keep up with the farce,” returns Father. “Are you fuckin’ stupid, Chioma?”

  Shit, why do things get good when it’s time to go? Backing out into the hall, I head for the front of the house. I’m sure to get both sides of the story later. Right now, I don’t need Ray taking off because I made him wait.

  “Shahid,” he calls with his hand up for our handshake.

  Instead of taking it, I glide by to open the front door. “Let’s take a ride.”

  Slowly, Ray’s hand drops to his side. “Shahid, it’s not that kinda party,” he warns, sternly.

  “Of course, it’s not. This gun in my pocket isn’t for you.” I smirk. Gripping him on the shoulder, I lead him towards the door. “All you have to do is drive and talk.”

  Maybe if he had come alone, Ray would have second thoughts, but I’m sure the muscle he had riding in the front seat took away some of his worries. I make a big show of giving him a glimpse of the gun on my left side before I reach for something on my right. Pulling out an envelope, I toss it in Ray’s lap.

  “Oh, yeah, Chione was good on the pole, but these pics are old. She ain’t danced in years. Hell, she was probably sixteen or seventeen in these,” he mumbles.

  “She stripped?”

  “Yeah, back in the day.”

  “How the fuck did she get the job? She lied?” I question.

  Ray nods his head as he puts the pictures away. Pushing the button on his car door, the petition rolls up to keep our conversation private.

  “Okay, Chione, we’ll stick with that name, didn’t lie to strip. I mean come on, man. What girl wants that kind of life? Well, a few, but not many,” he corrects. “She did it ‘cause her old man was a piece of shit who let it happen.”

  “See, you need to clean this up a bit,” I demand, getting frustrated.

  “Andreas, you know him. The reason why he controls such a big piece of the pie as a Don is because he killed Russell. Then he took over Russell’s areas. Now, Chubby, he ain’t so fat no more ‘cause of the drugs, but he was Russell’s right hand and Chione’s daddy. I don’t know what Chubby did, but Russell ordered him to put his girl in one of his clubs and the asshole did it.”

  For a second, all I could do was glare at Ray. I know I was hearing him wrong. I know he didn’t just say that Chione’s dad had put her in that life at sixteen.

  “Her dad sold her out,” I repeat to clarify.

  “Look, I can’t speak for the man. I can only tell you what happened. All this shit went down while Russell was at his peak. We all wanted him gone, but in everything, we had to buy our time and move when the time was right. What happened to Chione was bad. She was so smart, sweet, sheltered. Then she was forced to grow up overnight and face what her daddy had been willed into. Her Mama knew her place and kept her mouth shut. But when Andreas finally took Russell out, it was Chubby who pulled the trigger.”

  Ray finished that half of the story with a satisfied tone like Chione’s dad finishing off Russell covers the shit he didn’t do to save Chione.

  “So, why is she still in the clubs?” I press.

  Ray sighs. “You really think she wanted to go back to those two shits for parents? Nah, she had learned enough in those years. Once things were worked out with Russell, she disappeared. She was doing really good too.”

  “Who’re the people she hinted off killing?”

  Ray recoiled. “Shit, I didn’t know she had killed anybody. That’s news to me.”

  “Okay, so why is she ghosting me? I’m not connected to any of these people,” I point out.

  “It’s that baggage I warned you about. It’s the reason why she changed her name. She can’t afford to be found,” he explains a bit too excited. “Honestly, I should have put Chubby out of his misery. Ever since he smoked Russell, the man’s been two sheets to the wind. I thought he would have overdosed, but it’s the ones who got the most to answer for who seem to be the ones sticking around. Andreas put out that no one should touch him, but I’m just gonna do it, and deal with it a later. The man is a fuckin’ cancer that needs to be gone.”

  “Look, we’re almost at the hotel, so explain.”

  “Come to find out, Russell was fuckin’ a trans on the downlow. The man went ape-shit, showed up trying to gun everyone down. Well, he showed up at the club and—”

  “You gotta be kidding me,” I groan, eyeing Russell. “The fight that happened at the strip club is why she’s hiding. Is Chione fuckin’ dumb? She knows who the fuck I am. You really think I’m going to shit myself over some damn drunk-in-love, anal astronaut?” I growl.

  Ray becomes silent. He doesn’t talk until I’m about to get out the car.

  “Chione isn’t worried about that ass bandit. She’s hiding from you.”

  My head moves in slow motion to glare at Ray. My entire body tenses, and for a second, I can imagine his head exploding on the expensive leather.

  “I’ve never given Chione cause to fear me. Yes, I’ve lied, but make no mistake, she’s been the one playing me,” I responded in a voice void of emotion.

  Ray shakes his head, sadly. “If your boys are as good as you say they are, you’ll get my meaning when you see her,” is all he says.

  For a second, I consider forcing him to tell me what the fuck he’s talking about. He’s told me everything else, so why the holdout? Whatever. I’ll know soon enough.

  All this bullshit is fuckin’ with my brain. I’m a bottle deep in whiskey now. I steady it on my lap as the car sways over each speed bump in the complex. Darting my head back and forth, the anger only builds as I take in my surroundings. What’s so bad about me that it would push Chione to live in a hellhole like this? On the way thr
ough the place, our car was flagged twice by fuckers trying to make a sell. In spite of it being past 2 o’clock in the morning people are strolling around as if it was high noon.

  Never have I raised my hand to Chione. Yeah, I put her ass in her place whenever she crossed the line, but I didn’t kick her ass. If letting her know I wasn’t a sucker gave her cause to fear me, I wasn’t buying it. If not forcing her over to fuck the shit out of her for payment of virtually taking care of her for two years is cause to run away from me, then I’m more of a fool than I thought.

  What man would do that, huh? Where is there a man as generous as I’ve been to Chione? A man of my status, title, and wealth could have women bidding for my attention. Yet, here I’ve been dreaming over her black ass. Going out of my way to see to her needs, counting the days, weeks, months until I see her again. I’d been catching the goddamn blue balls all because I desired a piece of her stank ass.

  “You want us to go in first?”

  I take my time laying my half-empty, new friend on the seat next to me. After shoving my hands into a pair of leather gloves, I make sure my team has done the same.

  “No. I’m coming.”

  Surprisingly, my speech isn’t impaired. I notice that my feet feel heavy, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m dreading what I’ll find behind door 4D. Number three in line, with two leading the way, one in back, and one in the blacked out SUV, we hit the stairs. People in the stairwell, obviously know the drill. When they see us coming, they get up to get the fuck out of the way. No one wants to witness shit.

  Yas reaches the door and pulls out one helluva crowbar. Jamming it into the crack, he leans into the metal, splintering the door. The wood cracks, whines, and gives way. The noise should have been enough to alert Chione and whoever else is in the shitty apartment that they have uninvited guests. Removing the gun from my coat, I wave them back. They’re here for cleanup, not to handle things.

  Barrel to the chipped paint and worn wood, I slowly pushed the door open. Darkness. Cinnamon. Rain. These things hit me in that order. Sensing no one in the open space, I trade my gun for the long knife on my hip. Getting the layout before fully entering, the kitchen is the first thing and to the right. Cheap press tile on the floor seems to give way to the open area set up to be the living room. Bright lights from the complex peek through the slits of the tall vertical blinds hanging at the sliding glass door. which leads to a screened balcony.

  I glance to the right. From the open room that serves as the living room, there is a hallway. From where I’m standing in the doorway, I’m staring into the bedroom. A dim light of some kind glows to spill out and provide a bit of illumination in the hall. I stiffen when the constant sound of rain pauses, only to start up again. It’s because of the ambiance sounds in the form of constant rain on a loop that Chione didn’t hear us breaking in. The thought frustrates me. What if I was one of these assholes breaking in hoping to score shit to sell or worse? Her dopey ass wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  Taking my time, I tread lightly advancing into the unit. Heading for the open bedroom, I freeze in mid step. Once again, I’m hit with that obnoxious cinnamon smell. I consider it could be a sprayer on a timer, but the cloud of smoke gets my attention.

  “The door was unlocked.”

  I close my eyes. Her voice is but a whisper. In the undertones, I catch a shakiness. Glancing over my shoulder, I give my eyes time to adjust to the pitch-black darkness of the corner. No wonder I walked by without seeing her. She was ducked tight against the wall. Straining my gaze didn’t help either. Suddenly, a red light is ignited followed by that same funky-ass smell. Then there’s a cloud of smoke. The tip of her vape wasn’t enough to illuminate shit.

  “The lights?”

  “I like it like this,” she whispers.

  “Is there somebody else here?”

  Chione chuckles. “No, Shahid, it’s just me. I’m not giving the cookie away.”

  Ignoring the crack, I fumble for a light switch.

  “Hey,” she snaps. “Just sit for a second. Let’s talk,” she begs.

  Something in her voice smacks me in the gut. For a second, I can’t move. A feeling of dread courses through me. I finally have her, so why am I so worried now?

  “I’ll play your game for a while longer,” is all I say.

  “Keep going a little further and you should hit the couch,” she directs.

  The lumpy piece of furniture is a far cry from a decent couch.

  “So, how’s the kingdom?”

  I notch my unseen eyebrow. “All is good in the Kingdom,” I report, keeping up with her attempt at small talk. “You finished strong in your classes.”

  I know she can tell from my dry response that I didn’t want to do this shit. Another puff.

  “What the fuck is that? You need to stop. The shit stinks,” I growl.

  “Wow, you come in my house and—”

  “Yeah, why are you living in this shithole?” I cut in. “You know what? Fuck this shit. Get over ass—”

  “It’s CBD oil. It would be cheaper to just roll one, but I can’t be high on the phones, so I guess it’s good for the pain, but…”

  Okay. Pain?

  “You got caught in the fight at the club? What happened to you? Were you shot? Let me-” I shout getting to my feet. Game over. I came here for a reason, damn it.

  “A fight? Is that what they told you happened? Nah, baby, there was no fight.”

  Suddenly, the blinds shift to let more light in. It still slits, but enough to hint off why she was sticking to the shadows. My heart lurches. I have to root my feet to the floor to keep from taking a step back.

  “Jesus, Chione,” I hiss. It takes my mouth going dry for me to realize it was agape.

  Reaching over, she returns the blinds back to before, cloaking herself once again.

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve been up to,” she tries to joke, sadly.

  “Baby, don’t be like that. Come over here. Shit!” I complain at being robbed of my sight.

  Tapping along the wall, I’m rewarded with finding the light switch. On comes the lights from the ceiling fan. With it, it takes my breath, my ability to speak as I realize the truth is far worse than what I imaged. It takes everything within me to mask the shock, anger, and confusion from what I’m seeing.

  “You did this to make me feel bad about beating your ass.”

  Nothing.

  “Sit, Chione,” I suggest.

  “I do that six hours a day. It helps to force myself to move around.”

  Nodding, I walk towards her to take the chair at the desk she’s standing next to. I’ve always been blessed with twenty-twenty vision. Even still, getting this close allows me to take it all in. God knows I want to ask, but I skate around the elephant in the room in hopes to sooth her feelings. She refuses to look at me.

  “Are you turning tricks over the phone?”

  “No, I’m actually stealing work from your people. Sorry, but some people want that American touch for their customer service needs.”

  “You speaking other languages help, huh?”

  Chione nods.

  “You didn’t have to move, Chione,” I whisper.

  “I didn’t move that a long time ago. A strange man kept poppin’ up.”

  “Okay.” I sigh, running my hands through my hair. “Tell me what the fuck is going on. Ray told me some Chubby, your dad, a dead Don—I know what happened to you. Well, I know about you stripping. Come on, Chione,” I demand.

  I finally get her eyes, but I wasn’t ready for the hurt and depression in their depths.

  “Not much to say. I went through all that shit, ghosting everybody and everything to break from shit that didn’t have nothing to do with me. Then my ma came crying on my shoulder about my dad and I tried to help. Then like always, I got fucked while everybody else’s world keeps on turning. That fuck boy who’s still butt-hurt over Russell came to the club and now this,” she says in a cracking voice as she waves her h
and in front of her body. “I saved my face, though, so the money you spent on clearing it up is all good.”

  My gaze falls to the charred, bubbled, ulcerated, lava red, in some places oozing flesh of her left arm. Spots on her leg show the same damage. She doesn’t have to tell me what happened. It’s a common punishment that happens in my country dealt out by angry lovers or to put fear in women to make them not want to fight for change.

  “Can you still use the arm?” I grunt. From the way she’s cradling it, if she can, not by much. “What about your foot?” I growl.

  “It was packed. When a person starts splashing acid around, people are gonna run.”

  The grinding of my teeth to absorb my rage wasn’t doing it any longer. Gripping the chair, I throw it across the room to crash somewhere in the kitchen. The noise brought the boys still standing outside rushing into the apartment. Knowing what’s best for them, they remain still as I take it to anything and everything I can get my hands on in the living room. The lack of objects forces me to turn on the weakly constructed walls. The blood, the cracking of my bones isn’t enough to make me stop.

  “Why the hell were you even there, Chione? Are you that fuckin’ stupid!” I yell. “Then you don’t even call to tell me or ask me for help! Nothing!”

  I’m so into my own rage and shame of not being here for her, I can’t see the tears streaming down her trembling face.

  “Yeah, I’m stupid. Trust and believe I tell myself that a million times a day. I…I… You can’t fix this, Shahid,” she cries.

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” I snarl. “That’s your fuckin’ problem. You always…” I take a deep breath. Dropping my voice to a deadly tone, I take control of my anger. “Get your shit, now.”

  Her wide eyes shift to my bloody hand dripping on the already stained rug. My chest rises and falls rapidly as my body trembles with still pent-up rage.

  “Chione.”

  Her eyes snap to my face.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”