by Brick
Keeping my eyes on the woman I recalled being an awkward-looking female with a wild thicket of hair on her head and justifiable fear in her eyes, I tried my best to keep my distance from her. I wasn’t sure if she saw my face back then. I mean, yeah, I spoke to her, but through it all, I tried to keep my appearance as incognito as possible. As I was trying to do now.
I was a six-foot-tall, dark-skinned brotha, the tone of espresso. The well-trimmed beard that lined my defined jaw was there to keep my identity low-key. It ran right up into my, what I liked to call, a fuck-boy fade. You know the one, low-cut fade with the S-curl and curved part in it. That’s how my mane was. I was on what my pops would call, my Billy Dee Williams tip. Casket sharp in my hand stitched Italian suit, thanks to my boss’s tailor, and Italian leather shoes that were polished so nice that I could see myself in them.
My size was not that big at all. I was a muscular, lean type. Not so skinny that you’d have to worry about a brotha, but big enough where I still looked as if I could handle my own in a brawl fight. I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn’t a pretty boy. For tonight, I had a distinguished, rugged, hipster look, and I had plenty of women trying to get in my face. But I wasn’t paying them any attention. First off, I was at this event to learn more about my latest mark, and second, since Sabrina walked in, she drew my attention elsewhere.
Baby girl had grown up. People chattered and chuckled around me while I studied her. When I saved her life back then, I had decided to do my homework on her. I had to just make sure she never talked about me. I learned her people were nobodies, who had just moved to the A. Once that was made clear, I didn’t think that I had anything to worry about. Now, I was questioning that.
Sabrina moved around the room with a bright smile upon her face. Where there once was nothing but a boyish frame, meaning flat all around, except for her chest, which was different, was now framed by some mini-curves. She had a body like Rihanna, just with bigger breasts. Petite and cute. Her small ’fro had grown and was now straight hair that fell down her back. From how lush it was, I knew it wasn’t permed. Blame that on me having a sister and mother who stayed in the salon and had my father and me stressing about it.
“Marcel,” I heard a soft-spoken but deep baritone voice call my name. It was the son of my boss, and I had to comply. Turning my attention to the tall, handsome, swarthy Italian dude dressed just as casket fresh as me, I stepped his way.
“I’d like to introduce you to some very important people,” my coboss said with an outstretched arm.
My co-boss, Leo Giulio, was one of the popular political candidates running for alderman in my area. What made him popular wasn’t just his charisma, it was that his mother was a well-known South African opera singer, and his father ran the best Italian bistro in the Metro-Atlanta perimeter. It also was because he could persuade anyone to do what he wanted, and because he was a young, 30-year-old, good-looking dude. That part was what made him extremely dangerous in the world I was coming from, but no one knew the brotha’s dark side, and it was my duty to keep it that way.
Keeping a warm but expressionless manner to me, I stepped forward. “I’m honored, Mr. Giulio.”
It was an effort for me not to fall into my relaxed state of slang, but as Senior Giulio always said, if I want to move up in this world and make the money I needed, I must be a man of many faces. Therefore, I made sure to follow that model and embrace my role. I stood back watching as an older brother, around my height with wispy grays in his hair, beard, and temples, came my way. I knew who it was immediately as my mind hit me with an old memory.
“Marcel Raymond, meet future Commissioner Othello Lanfair. He just settled into Atlanta from New York,” Leo explained.
Grasping Mr. Lanfair’s hand, I gave him a welcoming smile and shook it in a way that let him know I had respect for him, but also was a player in the political world. “Mr. Lanfair, it is an honor to meet you.”
“And it is good to meet you too, young man. Leo has been speaking very highly of you. Top of your class at Georgia State. Communications major with a duel degree in political science. Very interesting,” Othello said in a controlled and pleasant voice.
“Yes, sir,” I said back, still shaking his hand before letting it go. The old head had a grip like a pit bull, but I held my own.
“Came here from DC to soak in the environment of Atlanta and add my piece to the puzzle,” I said in a lighthearted manner.
“From what I heard, you are already on a good start, son. I’m sure your parents are exceedingly proud of you,” he said with a wide smile studying me with interest.
“They and my younger sister passed on, but I’m sure they are.” I kept my stance wide and pressed a hand against my heart.
This old man seemed to be the type who liked to take in all the information about a person by one glance and one quick conversation. I wasn’t tripping about it at all.
“Is that so? I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?” he asked.
I guess he was seeking out a flicker of emotion from me. I could feel Leo observing me. I knew that he was seeing how I’d move on this board with the future commissioner, and I found myself enjoying the dance going on between us.
“On the day of my graduation, they were sideswiped in their car by a semitruck. Died on Peachtree,” I explained.
“Damn it! These drivers are horrendous on the roads. See, these are some of the many issues we must address if we are going to change Atlanta for the better,” Mr. Lanfair said. “I’m sorry for your loss. One should never lose family in such a way.”
I nodded. “Of course. Thank you. They are what led me to be an aide for Mr. Giulio.”
“Then they are a welcomed guiding light, son,” Mr. Lanfair continued watching me, then clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “My wife and daughter are here. Let me introduce you all.”
An uncertain concern dropped in my spirit when Mr. Lanfair’s wife and daughter approached me. Both were locked in their general “be nice for the people who Mr. Lanfair needs on his side” smile. At first, there was no issue. Both women glanced at me quickly as Mr. Lanfair introduced me.
But when I was asked to speak on my dreams for change in Atlanta, that’s where things became tricky. I didn’t want to speak. Didn’t want to trigger shit being that I knew my voice was the only thing Sabrina could possibly remember, but I was locked in a stalemate and had to handle my shit. Never let anyone break your cool. I learned that from Senior Giulio as well.
Holding my champagne glass, I took a drink, then licked my lips. “Atlanta is not only known as Hotlanta, due to its seedy entertainment scene, but Atlanta is also known as a welcoming state for young, up-and-coming businessmen and -women. We need to focus on making Atlanta about family, about bringing in stable job markets for the young people, so that they will stay here.”
Sliding a hand in my pocket, I kept a cool demeanor as I spoke, making eye contact with every bigwig in front of me. “We need to grow the entertainment part, meaning our growing film industry so that we can keep a lucrative hand in becoming the second Hollywood, Hollywood of the South. In doing so, this ensures substantial money and constant tourist allure. Atlanta will grow, and money will stay lining our government’s pockets.”
Once my attention went back to Sabrina, I knew trouble was brewing. From how she intently watched me, I knew from the slight change in her breathing, the way her eyes slightly widened, and a subtle fear changed her whole body language, that she knew who I was. Real recognizes real, and past traumas can brand the truth in one’s mind for a lifetime.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of this, but when laughter broke my concentration while watching her, I knew I had wiggled my way into Othello’s circle.
“Young man, it seems as if you are perfect for Leo’s party,” he said in a booming voice.
Sabrina continued staring.
I laughed, and as I drank from my glass, I allowed my index finger to appear to brush my nose, but in reality, I
was signaling to Sabrina to keep her mouth closed. It didn’t take anything for me to see that she understood my small hand gesture. She turned toward her father’s wife, whispered, then tried to excuse herself.
As she did so, Othello reached behind him to bring her forward. “My daughter, Sabrina, has said the same to me. Protect the culture here, the family life, the entertainment life, the food industry here.... Everything Atlanta builds brings attention to, and we must keep it that way, isn’t that right, baby girl?”
“Of course, Daddy,” she said, tucking her hair behind her diamond-earring-dressed ear.
I saw that her hair was still very much natural, just flat ironed. She hadn’t changed that much, ran in my mind.
“How can Atlanta survive if we do not emphasize family first? We are a hospitable people. We have to let the nation see that we aren’t just some seedy or shady crime-laden city,” she said locking eyes on me.
I was amused. So, shorty wanted to fence words with a brotha? I was down, but Leo’s hand on my shoulder as he stepped forward kept me silent.
“Exactly, which is why we must start at a grassroots level in tandem with us government officials, don’t you think? If we get our hands dirty with our fellow, everyday man, trust can be reformed in the government, and positive change in our way could occur,” Leo added moving in front of me.
An amused chuckle had me smirking as I turned to see the man of the day, the mayor of Atlanta, walking in. Immediately, my killer instinct turned on. Leo’s move was not simply a dick move, but it was done to signal me on the low that my mark was in the room. As he ran his mouth, I excused myself and disappeared through the crowd. My agenda was in front of me, and, since we were in his house, I could start on taking what I was told to: his life and several documents of plans for a new building in College Park.
Moving through excited people, mostly women flocking to our mayor, I made my way to the study he just came out of. By using the bathroom next to it, I slipped on my mask and gloves, then proceeded to climb out the window. Behind me were the quiet, lit-up gardens encasing the mansion. I knew there was nothing to trip on in being caught because security was currently distracted by the mayor’s presence and all the people trying to get next to him. That’s why I took the time to do some spy shit.
Fiddling with the window, I broke in, then hopped in the massive, old-world designed library with a spiraling staircase and impressive study. Books were around me, the scent of fresh lit, cheap cigar smoke fucked with my senses, but I kept my cool. I knew that there was a vault in there, and I knew that a camera was recording my movements. It was on Leo’s tech team to cloud the channels. When I was working the window, a chirp outside was my signal that everything was good. I had ten minutes to handle business, so I did.
I worked my way through the office, found the vault hidden behind the stairway, then I used the code given to me to open it. Inside was everything I needed. I made quick copies, and I swapped out expensive jewelry with replicas. I looked over his desk, fucking with things, then made my exit. Taking several strides to the window, I whistled loudly, dropped the bag I had put everything in, and watched it fall into the bush below. After that, I moved to several of his glasses, lined them with a clear dissolvable poison, and added the same to his rum decanter, then returned from where I came.
This move was on some old-school shit as a request by my main boss. He wanted to test me and see if I could cut it as a hit man in the classic sense. When I told him that I could, that he could trust me in this, he laid out this plan, and the rest was history. I knew that I would not be able to return from the outside; that would be suspect enough, so I dropped back into the gardens, whistled to my crew again, then entered back into the house and party from the bathroom.
Too many people around this dude to even care to check the rest of the mansion. I easily was able to fall back into the groove of things with the party. I glanced at Leo; he gave a wide smile, and we both moved on to campaigning for his cause.
“I remember you,” I heard to the right of me while I took a sample of some stuffy and bougie food off a server tray.
Chewing slowly, I kept my eyes on the mayor, watching him intently. “That’s good to know Leo’s pull has people recalling me.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” I heard again.
Stepping backward, then to the side, I ended up directly behind Sabrina and kept watching the mayor.
“See, no, I don’t, and I believe that’s a good thing, do you? Besides, shouldn’t you be by your old man’s shoulder?”
Her silence amused me, but what made my day even more was when the mayor clutched his heart, tumbled around, then fell to the floor, dead. See, my movements were purposeful, and I’ll hit the rewind for ya. When I was parting through the crowd to the bathroom, I had made one sneaky move. I knew that the mayor would be focused on giving handshakes, kissing babies, and signing crap, that he would not have noticed the smear of poison against the palm of his hand amongst the many hands in his way.
It was easy for me to get close enough where I could hit him with that dose. No CSI could detect what I hit him with, and no camera could tell that I was really anywhere near him. So my rouse in his office was nothing but a setup to make his officials look faulty once an investigation started. As I spoke quietly with Sabrina and enjoyed how her petite frame seemed to fit me, I also was getting off from watching my mark die right before me.
Drinking my liquor, I kept my cool and looked concerned when Sabrina shouted, “Oh my God, what’s happened to the mayor?”
I enjoyed the feel of guns, but this poison shit was on some OG level, and I dug it.
“Damn, that is insane. We need to check that out,” I said following behind Sabrina while she rushed forward.
My mark was down, and I had many more to tackle. The mayor was a problem for Senior Giulio and son, and a problem in the streets of Atlanta. By taking him out, I had just upheld what Sabrina had said to me in retort. If we clean up the criminals of Atlanta, then Atlanta could be great again. I wasn’t a good man, but sometimes, my kills were for the greater good, and I dug that. I knew one thing, though. I was able to run into Sabrina again, and I was now way more interested in her than I should have been. I mean, I helped her out in ridding the world of evil, fair exchange is no robbery, right? Even though there was no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes. I had no honor when it came to my kills, and I always took what I wanted if that was what’s required of me. I wanted Sabrina now that I saw her again. She didn’t need to know my secret life, and I wanted to keep it that way. Pushing through the crowd appearing concerned, I kept my gaze on Sabrina. That was the day I planned to make her mine.
One body drop at a time.
Chapter Three
Sabrina
August 2011 . . .
“Oh my God,” the mayor’s wife cried out.
“Somebody get help,” my father yelled.
Which made me turn to look at him. He was kneeling next to the mayor’s limp body like he actually cared. It was well known that my father and the mayor were basically archnemeses. My father turned back up in our lives a year and a half ago. I didn’t know what brought on the change at first, but it wasn’t a happy family reunion. He hadn’t come to make amends with my mother. He came to tell her that he had remarried and would be moving to Atlanta to run for office.
When we lived in New York, Pops always hung out with the movers and shakers, politicians and other elected officials, but as the years passed on, he cared more and more about his image than our home. My pops’ news that he had remarried and would be living in Atlanta to run for city office sent my mother into an emotional downward spiral. My older sisters wanted nothing to do with my father as they found what he had done to be disgusting.
I couldn’t really explain why my hate dissolved for him as soon as I laid eyes on him again. For the longest, I had been mad at him for leaving us. I’d blamed him for me almost being killed in that abandoned buil
ding. I was so set to lash out at him and give him a piece of my mind. But when I saw him on that day a year and a half ago, I rushed into his open arms. I cried so hard and, while my mom and sisters thought it was because I’d missed him more because I was the baby in the family, it had way more to do with the fact that I, once again, felt protected.
He had always protected me. No man could harm me with my daddy, Othello, around. That was . . . until I heard that voice. Marcel was the name he had been introduced as. That man’s voice chilled me to the bone. I quickly glanced behind me to find he was no longer there. Just like the day he had disappeared the same way he’d come after killing Antonio, without a trace, until now. After being attacked by Antonio, I watched the news to see if anyone would ever find the body. No one ever did.
While everyone crowded around the mayor as a doctor in the room administered CPR, I kept back.
“Danny, take my daughter and my wife home,” my father told one of his guards.
Danny was the only one of them I remotely liked. My only disdain for him was that there was something weird between him and my father. His loyalty was quite unnerving at times when it came to my father.
“Baby, I’d like to stay with you,” Kat said to my father.
I didn’t particularly like my father’s wife, but I didn’t hate her either. She was okay when she wasn’t trying to force a relationship with me. For as much as I welcomed my father back into my life, that didn’t mean I had to be friends with the woman who had come between my mother and father.
My father frowned as he looked at Kat. “Can’t you see I’m handling business, woman? Let Danny take you home, and I’ll be there later.”