by Brick
Shaking my head, I kept that knowledge on lockdown. Even while sitting in front of Caltrone, my mind was still trying to process the truths that were shared that day. Like what my mother felt she had to do to protect me when I was a child, I was doing the same for Jewel.
“Carla,” Calrone quietly said finally breaking our silence. “After me?”
I gave a nod. Only a few knew his real name and that Caltrone was an extension of his middle name.
“Why haven’t you gone the legal route? Gone to the police?” he asked.
I sighed and shook my head. “Humph. I did, but after they investigated and found she left on her own, they stopped treating it with priority. I mean, they claim to be looking into it but, as you can see, we haven’t gotten anywhere with them yet.”
He nodded once. “As I asked before, what will you do for me?” he asked.
“Two things: one, I will be your man, your weapon, whatever you need; and, two, you wanted to see mi madre?” Digging in my jacket, I pulled out my cell phone. “All I have to do is make a call.”
A sly smile spread across his face. Tossing a grape in his mouth he chewed slowly and watched me in a calculating manner. “So she is not at the hotel with you?” he asked, which made me chuckle.
“Papa, my mother grew up around your family and loved you at one time. We know better,” I said just as smoothly as he would.
He laughed, as he wiped his mouth and flicked his hand over the food. “Fix yourself a plate. Forgive me for doubting that you were an Orlando. The fact that you easily killed several of my bodyguards, including the two who were put on you the moment you landed, amused and irritated me. Now, it just pleases me because my prodigal son is back home. So eat up.”
Doing as he said, I filled my plate and ate as I explained, “I have a gift for detecting patterns, remember, Father? I studied how they watched the land and house then I took them down with patience. Watch the wolf, then become the wolf.”
My father gave a wide smile. I saw a flicker of pride in his eyes that I remembered his lessons; then he spoke.
“I will put the necessary people on it to help you find information on my namesake’s whereabouts, but it will be I who will help you in the actual search. You are correct, Antonio: no man allows another to take from him. You remembered me telling you that and that makes me proud. See, a man who allows another to take from him is a weak bastard and a weak bastard can never be trusted or allowed to live,” he stated. “That is my granddaughter; no man has the right to take her.”
“Thank you,” I started to say before he held a hand up.
“I have no need to explain to you that when you find this person, you will disembowel him or her, yes?”
Stabbing my fork into my eggs I took a bite, wiped my mouth, and then stared him in the eyes. “No, sir. No need to explain that at all.”
“You still scared of dogs?”
I chuckled, recalling that the fear I had of them was long gone due to him. “No, sir.”
“You still enjoy cutting up insects and studying them?” he asked after I answered him.
“Very much so. It is why I am a doctor.”
He waved a hand, and several staff came from the house. He told them to bring out more food. “Then you have a plan?” he asked once they left.
“Yes, sir.”
Silence was our friend again. Three of the people I vividly remembered as my niece and nephews strolled into the large gazebo where we sat in my father’s gardens perched on a cliff that overlooked a beach and waves. A young woman with a long ponytail swaying over her breast stepped to Caltrone, gave him a kiss on his cheek, then sat by his side when he motioned for her to. Another, male and younger, sat by his side with a smile on his face; and the third, a male with a darkness in his eyes, stood at his back watching me. Maria-Rosa, Mark, and Freddie were younger than I but I remembered their faces.
“Familia,” I said sitting forward.
“Maria-Rosa, Mark, and Freddie, I want you three to do something for me. We have a delicate situation that needs rectifying. It would seem that your long-lost uncle is in need of help. His daughter has gone missing. Gather everything you can and give him the information. We do not allow family to go unaccounted for, understood?” Caltrone stated.
Everyone gave him their okays, then he continued, “In the meantime, we will be celebrating my son’s return and you three will bring him into the fold. He is a doctor, which is something that we need in this family.”
Tension began to dance over the back of my neck as I watched everyone’s expressions. I wasn’t disturbed by the distrust in their eyes; what I had a problem with was the calculating manner that was in Mark’s eyes and Caltrone’s. Shit was eerie but I made sure not to show I was shaken by it. If it was destiny to fall by their hands, so be it. I lived an honorable life and lived it well. I had no regrets, yet, and I wasn’t about to let them plant any in me.
“Antonio, as they dig for information on your daughter, after you debrief them on everything you’ve already found, and after we conclude our family welcoming, you and I will start our training again. You’re a doctor and I wish to see if you can be a killer at the same time like your elder brother Lu once was.”
Keeping my cool, my stomach clenched. Lu. I hated that motherfucker. Nigga had serious issues as a child and, from what I had heard on the national circuit, nigga was still bat shit loco until the day he died. He even had his son Damien tear up Atlanta while he rotted in prison. The fact that Caltrone was sending me that way annoyed me but I kept it to myself. In this family, my mother explained, loyalty wasn’t formed just through dedication; it was formed by what you could do for the family and how you did it.
Turning into a killer wasn’t going to be easy but I had to show that I meant what I said. “I’ll do whatever to show my worth, Father.”
“Good. Now that you’re home, you will be given the lessons and allowances you need to be an heir,” he laid out for me to understand. “Do you have a wife?”
“No, sir. Jewel’s mother, Kenya, and I co-parent,” I explained.
“And she does what?”
Even though I was sure he already knew the answer to the question, my mother was right; Caltrone was about appearances and the purity of the family bloodline. If anyone lay with someone he felt wasn’t worthy of an Orlando, then that person and their child would forever be deemed as nothing but a mutt to him. Though I was his son, the woman I chose to create life with also had to be worthy of my time and seed, which in turn would protect my daughter from my father’s disdain.
“She owns her own bakery; however, she used to be a practicing prosecuting lawyer.”
Caltrone’s eyes lit up. “Ah, her brains and yours are the reason Jewel is so gifted. It is unfortunate that my granddaughter’s youth got her in this situation.”
“I agree,” I said. The idea that my daughter was with some Internet lech and fell for such bullshit really fucked with my mental, but I wasn’t about to show that. I rubbed the side of my neck then dropped my hand.
“Good. Everyone leave us,” he said. One by one, my niece and nephews left me with my father. He sat in a haze of smoke, studying me before he said, “Now, on to the second part of our agreement.”
Exhaling, I pulled out my cell, and dialed my mother who was in Jamaica waiting for me. I was now in with Caltrone. Whatever came with it, I had no choice but to deal with because I was willing to sacrifice my all for her. This was my battle. No one fucks with my daughter.
Chapter 2
Kenya
“It is nice to hear your voice again, Carmen. It’s been too long, sí?” the man said into the phone.
I stood just inside the back door of the house. I watched as three of Caltrone’s grandchildren strolled back. They passed me without a second thought, although the one they called Mark let his eyes linger on me a bit too long. Why I was in Caltrone’s mansion would be a mystery to some. Not to me and not to that man. I’d stood there and listened to the whol
e exchange between him and Antonio. For as long as I’d known my child’s father, not once had he mentioned he came from the dick of the Caltrone Orlando. Since Antonio carried his mother’s last name, I never put two and two together.
My daughter was missing so I hoped Tone didn’t think I would just continue to sit idly by. It was in my blood to fight and fight hard. I knew something was wrong. Knew it as soon as he called me that day with the weight of the world on his shoulders and angst in his voice. Jewel was a good kid for the most part, but she and her father often clashed because of his strict rules. I made it my business to never go behind his back when it came to disciplining her. If he told her something then his word was law.
Tone had spoiled her but, at the same time, he was stern. I knew why he was that way. He didn’t want our child to end up pregnant like I was as a teenager. I respected that and I wanted the same thing. Jewel often hated the fact that she couldn’t come to me and make me say yes when her father had said no.
Tone told me he didn’t want me to join him in looking for her. He wanted me to keep watch at home just in case she came back. He must have forgotten who I was and what resources I had at my disposal. Yes, I spent all my days baking now but, before I knew pastry, I knew the law. All those contacts I had before deciding to leave the State as a prosecutor were still of use to me. And none of them could get us any closer to finding our daughter. So, I came to the one man who owed me a favor.
Before all of that, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kenya. At sixteen years old, I found myself pregnant and scared. Nine months later, Jewel came kicking and screaming into the world. Antonio and I had no business becoming parents that young, but it was what it was. We made the best of it. I didn’t have a mother growing up. I was in and out of foster homes. I’d been to the juvenile detention hall way more than I cared to admit.
One day I met a boy who nobody knew much about. Tone was quiet. Didn’t say too much to anybody. People thought he was crazy or something, but me? I thought he was unique. There was something about him that made me go against the grain and speak to him.
There I was, fifteen years old, with my first crush on a boy. His hair was curly, coarse, and unkempt; and anytime I looked into his eyes they reminded me of an endless pit. I never knew why that was.
“What do you want?” he asked me when I walked over to sit at the lunch table with him.
I shrugged. “I can’t sit at this table?” I asked him.
He tilted his head up and looked at me. “Why? One of those niggas sent you over here to fuck with me? If so, don’t do it. Girl or not, I’ll handle you,” he threatened me.
I knew what he was referring to. The boys at the school didn’t know how to handle him. On one hand, they were afraid of him. On the other hand, they hated his good looks and the way he could handle a ball, so they wanted to fight him, hurt him. A few chicks had tried to get at him, but he wasn’t falling for the hype knowing that there was sneaky shit afoot. Tone had always been too damn smart for his own good.
“Nobody sent me over here. I came on my own. So can I sit?”
He was quiet. He looked back down at his home-cooked meal then shrugged. “Free country, mami. You can sit where you want.”
He had a bit of an accent that I couldn’t place. I had to admit, I was kind of jealous of his lunch. I wanted to ask for some knowing that the shit they fed us at school wasn’t all that. Still, I knew I had to eat it; otherwise, I would go hungry for the rest of the day and night. My foster mother had eight other children besides me and, although she tried hard to take care of us, sometimes the food stamps ran out before the month did.
So, I picked up my dry-ass sandwich and bit into it. Meanwhile, Tone had fried chicken, black-eyed peas, mac and cheese, and some cornbread that I was tempted to steal. We sat silently while we ate. All eyes were on us. I guessed the rest of the kids were wondering if some shit was going to pop off. I was considered a troublemaker. Where I went, troubled followed. I’d gotten kicked out of four high schools and I was only in the tenth grade.
I was always ready to fight. Always ready to take a broad down to prove that I was no punk. I’d gotten into fistfights with boys, too. Had the scars to prove it. I just didn’t care.
“Is it true your mom is friends with that singer chick, Mariposa? True she’s one of her dancers? The pretty one everybody’s always fawning over?” I asked him.
“Yeah. What’s it to you?”
“Just asking. If she’s your mom, ain’t you rich or some shit? Why you at this school and not over there with them crackers?”
“Crackers?”
“Yeah, them rich white folk over there at Pinewoods Academy?”
He shook his head in annoyance.
I opened my milk to take a drink, but the sour smell that assaulted my nose made me rethink it. “Damn, man,” I fussed. “Assholes can’t even give us fresh milk,” I mumbled.
“Here,” he said.
I looked up to see he had pushed a soda over to me along with a piece of chicken, some peas, and a piece of his cornbread.
I frowned. “Why you giving me this?” I asked. I didn’t too much trust any male giving me stuff without me asking. I’d learned the hard way in the foster system that not everyone was as nice as they appeared to be.
“If you don’t want it give it back,” he said.
I swallowed hard, my mouth watering for the food I knew I wouldn’t get later. “I ain’t giving you nothing,” I said, hoping he got my meaning.
He glanced over at me. “I didn’t ask you for nothing.”
Once I was sure he understood what I was saying, I tore into that food. Ate it like I hadn’t eaten before and never would again.
I didn’t know why I was attracted to him the way I was, but the next day, I was back at his table again. Yeah, with the hope he would share his food again, but also because I liked being near him. For two weeks, we ate lunch together, but barely held conversations. He would bring me food and, in turn, I would ask if I could do something for him. I didn’t have any money and I had already learned how to use my body to pay for services or get what I wanted.
Most boys would have been mannish and asked for pussy, but Tone was different. He only wanted me to help him with his literature and history homework. Most people didn’t know or recognize how smart I was, but he did. That was the way our weird friendship worked for a while.
He would feed me and I would help him with his work. It went on that way for a few months. We never really said we were girlfriend and boyfriend. It kind of just happened. He was walking me home one day and my hand ended up in his.
There was nothing special or romantic about our hookup. Not until the day I showed up on his doorstep, face bloody, as my foster mom’s boyfriend had beaten me when I tried to protect her from him. I remember when his mother opened the door and found me there. Blood was dripping from my right eye and mouth. My shirt had been torn off, but I fought back. He was taller and stronger than I was, but I wasn’t afraid of him.
Still, he had gotten the upper hand. My foster mom had put him out before, but he came back. She was genuinely trying to get away from him and he didn’t like it. So he beat her then wouldn’t let her leave her room. She had been the best foster mom I’d had. I had to protect her so they wouldn’t take us from her. That night, after I’d run to Tone’s home for help, I finally knew why I always thought of a bottomless pit when I looked in his eyes.
He’d caught Johnny coming out of Mama Sheila’s house. Took his legs out from under him with a steel baseball bat. Beat him so badly I thought he had killed him. I watched as Tone took a knife and sliced the man open over and over again. Stomach, legs, sides, thighs, wherever his blade could reach. Then he put the unconscious man in his car and slammed the door shut.
I didn’t question him. Just followed him as he walked back around the corner. In the back of the van Tone drove were three dogs. Their heads and upper bodies were so big they scared me, as they looked like they were on
steroids. I moved to stand behind Antonio as he unhooked the chains on the dogs. They followed him like they had been trained to do so. Antonio opened the back of Johnny’s Buick and let the dogs in. Two sat on the back seat while one took up residence on the passenger seat. They all sat that way, unmoving, staring at Johnny with their tongues hanging out of their mouths.
“You okay?” Tone asked me as we waited.
I nodded. “What are you going to do with him?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it. Just know he will never lay hands on you again.”
It took another twenty minutes for Johnny to regain consciousness. When he did, Tone stood. The dogs started to growl. Johnny screamed and tried futilely to get out of the car, but Tone had blocked the door. He had pressed his body against it so Johnny couldn’t get out.
“Eat,” Tone said to the dogs.
At first, I was confused by why he would say that, until the dogs tore into Johnny. It was the cruelest shit I’d ever seen. Those dogs ripped Johnny apart. They started at the places Tone had cut open and ripped at Johnny like he was raw steak.
I’d never forget that man’s screams as he was eaten alive by the meanest, most vicious pit bulls I’d ever laid eyes on. Just as I’d never forget the look in Tone’s eyes as he watched on. That night I learned there was another side to the boy I’d come to love, a side that often scared me when someone pushed him to the point of no return.
Soon after that, I found myself pregnant, much to the chagrin of Mama Sheila and Carmen. Nine months later, Jewel was here. Tone and I were too young, our tempers too volatile. We fought about every little thing. We were two of those people who had a “fight then fuck” relationship. Tone and I had no business being parents. But we tried; honestly, we did. I went to school at night so he could go during the day. Both of us were smart in our own right. He worked after school and sometimes when I was at school. Carmen and Mama Sheila would watch Jewel from time to time. Sometimes Tone and I spent the night at the other’s house, but most times the parents weren’t having it.