by Brick
“You think Lu was a sick motherfucker? Think about who created him, Kenya. And now you fucked it up! You could have stayed home and continued searching for our daughter there. You could have put out flyers, taken to the news, taken to the streets there while keeping in the area just in case she came home; but no. You gotta fucking meet with my pops? Fuck your life right now, Kenya. Fuck you! No matter how much I got love for you, fuck you right now.”
“I’m going to do whatever I have to. I don’t care how angry you are. I’m her mother. I carried her. I birthed her. I—”
“Fuck your ‘I,’ Kenya,” I barked out. “If both of us are dead, then what? Huh? Jewel has no one but this family then.”
“If he keeps his end of the bargain, she’ll be safe with me,” she yelled at me with tears rimming her eyes.
“No, you just think that’s how it’s going to go. But I know the reality of this bullshit. How it’s going to go is you get her back by his help, then he flips that shit to his favor and takes her. That’s it. You have no power here, Kenya.”
Shaking my head in disappointment and fury I turned my back on her. “You screwed everything up. I was to take this on, not you. Not you dealing with him. Why? Because in the end if I had to go away because he ordered it, I’d readily do that for our daughter and you,” I said with my hand slapping against my chest. “Jewel needs one of us and I was not about to allow you to risk all with my father. She needs her mother. If I have to die to save her, I was good with that. I know what being an Orlando entails and you did not have to get involved in it. Fuck!”
“I was already involved! Did you not hear anything I just said to you? Jewel is my responsibility too. I’m not going anywhere. I understand your point of view and your anger, but it’s too late. I came and now we have to work together in this,” she said. “I didn’t know Caltrone was your father. I was involved with Caltrone long before you knew. Regardless of what you say, Caltrone has always kept his word as long as I kept mine. I didn’t know anything about this man when he walked into my office and I still don’t. All I knew was he . . . he was dangerous and he had a lot of power. Power that I was able to use to get Lu locked away.”
I wasn’t here for what she was doing. Wasn’t here for the old memories, of us falling in and out of love. Of our many exhausting fights growing up as young kids in love raising a child. Then, after, when the load of her work started to change her and me. I didn’t want to hear it.
Kenya was defiant. It was what made her a powerful ADA but, at the same time, that defiant personality wasn’t going to work here. “Yet, you are here dealing with the devil again. You just lost your soul and you don’t even realize it,” I said deflated as I sarcastically laughed at the whole situation.
We stood in silence for what felt like an eternity. I wasn’t so angry not to recognize that Kenya and I were fighting for our daughter. I wasn’t upset about that at all. I was upset in principle over the fact that she just went about it in the wrong way.
“Again, Tone, I’m not going anywhere,” Kenya quietly repeated. “She’s my daughter and I don’t feel bad about my choice. You won’t make me feel bad about my decision and my view on this, not when this is about our daughter.”
The palm of my hand ran up and down my face. I moved away from the elaborate stone wall we stood near. As a little kid, I spent hours here sitting on it, watching the water, wondering what was on the other side of the ocean. It was also where remnants of my blood were soaked into the mossy ground and stone, due to my father realizing that I loved this spot. Instead of nurturing that, he twisted it into a lesson about power. Using the old-school idea of kneeling on rice, or frozen peas, he’d make me kneel on pebbles as the salty sea air blew over my bleeding cuts.
Settling my gaze on my hands, I had a flashing image of them covered in blood, the memory of several dead dogs around me, and the sound of my younger voice crying, before shaking it off. I was a doctor, a surgeon. These hands healed and now they were going to bring death, yet again.
“I can handle myself,” I heard Kenya say behind me. “I won’t be a burden and you don’t have to worry about me at all. I’m a grown woman and a mother who is very clear on her choice here. I’m not taking it back, so move on and get over it.”
“There goes the lawyer I know. When bullets start flying, make sure you duck then; and, while you’re at it, record yourself for our daughter about your choices here. So if you die, she knows why; and let her also know why you didn’t listen to me so you could stay alive.” Thumbing my nose, I walked away.
“You’re so indignant over me not listening to you? Get over yourself, Tone.”
“Damn right, because I know the consequences. Where is your fiancé? Nigga just let you bounce and he’s doing what?” I asked out of spite.
“That pussy shit you said that I needed to do, just to keep me in my place? You know, when you told me I needed to stay home? He’s doing that. He’s staying back home so if our daughter shows up, someone she knows will be there. We work in tandem, as a unit, unlike you and me. He and I are on the same page to save my daughter,” Kenya said with a hand on her hip.
I laughed hard because the shit was ludicrous. They work in tandem? Bet.
“I’m happy for you, but the pussy shit makes sense and you need to go do it with your bitch-ass fiancé. Because, you’re right, you can’t even listen to me on this to let me save our daughter. You have to move your self-righteous ass in the middle because you think you know better, just to spite me at this point.”
Kenya gave a roll of her eyes, sucked her teeth, and then crossed her arms. “Yeah, that’s what it is. That just makes all types of sense, doesn’t it? I didn’t even know you’d be here.”
“It’s true. You being here is fucking stupid and a death wish.”
“No, it’s not! You’re being petty as fuck,” she spat back.
Fists clenched, I growled, “You need to keep your eyes open and recognize when shit isn’t what it appears. Can you do that? Huh? Can you? Nah, you can’t.”
We stood glaring at each other, breathing hard. There was a moment when we used to get each other. There used to be a time when all either of us had to do was blink and we knew what the other was thinking. Over the years of our on-and-off relationship, that changed, especially when she got deep into her career. I was all for it until she started taking out her stress on me. Like I said, I now understood it. Her stress, I believed, was her subconscious way of recognizing my lineage. Her fear and anger were about my pops, along with her work back then, and I couldn’t blame her for it.
In my mind, I knew that logic. However, my anger wouldn’t let me register it. Whenever it came to her, like now, all I felt was myself back when we were breaking up. She never held me down like she used to back then. Now here we were again, with her not trusting in my integrity and thoughts. She just had to do shit her way.
Trying to get her to back away with my words wasn’t helping, so I said fuck it. “Do you, Kenya, and don’t get in my face or way.” Muttering several curse words in Spanish, I threw my hand up and walked to the mansion.
I had a deep headache. I came here for my daughter. She was my priority and worry. However, my mother and Kenya were now in the mix of this and it had my mental fucked up even more. If I was going to become what my father wanted, I needed to keep my mind focused on who had my child, but that had changed.
As I walked inside, I was unimpressed by the glamor around me. Paintings from the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries that adorned the walls, the gilded antique furniture, the mixture of contemporary art, and the sparkling hanging chandeliers were nothing but reminders of the evil that helped build this empire.
Several relatives moved around the manor. I saw Mark and felt his sinister gaze on me. No matter how Children of the Corn he got on me, it was in me to remind him that I came from the same stock. That, in the past, I had gone The Omen on him and I would flip that switch again if I had to.
Throwing open the doors t
o my father’s office, I walked in noticing him leaning with a cigar between his fingers, his gaze locked on a screen, and a woman in a suit behind him.
“Your affairs in line now, son?” he asked in that asinine way he did.
“Yes, sir,” was all I said, keeping my temper in check.
Caltrone chuckled as he leaned in his chair. “You lie. You look like me so I know . . . Ah, ADA Gates, it’s lovely to see that you are still here. Have a seat. You too, my son.”
My father stood and waved a hand in front of the two chairs near his desk. I gave a quick glance toward Kenya and waited for her to sit first; then I followed.
“Great. Let us now convene in here and talk about getting your daughter, my grandchild, back,” he said calmly, sitting down.
It was time and I was ready for it. Wherever my little girl was, I planned upon finding her. Come hell or high water, I’d scorch the earth in pursuit of her and take down anyone who got in my way. Standing, I reached in my pocket, pulled out my keys, and unclipped a black flash drive stick and set it in front of my father.
“Everything I have is on that flash drive. I have another as backup, but there’re files, places I already searched, including hospitals, people who were interviewed by my private PI, and people I interviewed myself.”
Handing that drive over felt as if an extension of my life were leaving me. I had spent countless hours exhausting every resource I had and every outlet in looking for my child. The energy of that was latched on that drive and now my father had it. From the emotionless expression on his face, I knew my father was in his mode. When he handed the drive to the woman behind him, and she bent over to plug it in, his subtle grunt let me know that he approved of what I had done.
When Kenya quietly lifted folders from her purse I was just noticing, I realized that she still hadn’t said anything. I watched her as she set them in front of my father in a timid manner then gave me a look that said she could handle herself. The glint of anger in her eyes made me want to chuckle to myself. She was playing the game well in front of my father, while silently letting me know that she was still very much pissed at me. I liked that, but I wasn’t going to tell her so. I also didn’t give a damn if she was pissed at me. I wasn’t sorry about anything I said to her because that was my truth in it.
Scratching the side of my nose, I watched my father give a similar grunt; then he reached out for his phone. “Go eat. Go rest. When I’m ready to speak to you both, I’ll send for you. We’re done here.”
Like that he dismissed us without another word. Both Kenya and I walked out and found ourselves led to adjoining rooms. Annoyance had me keeping my focus off of Kenya and on the room before me. I wanted to call my mother to beg her not to come to Cuba, but I knew that it wouldn’t stop her.
My mother was sacrificing herself for the same cause we all were. It was all fucked up. So, in my thoughts, I dropped on the bed. I clutched my fisted hands between my legs then stared off into the distance thinking about my daughter, wherever she was. My daughter Jewel’s actions had effectively affected this family in the worst way but, in the end, I didn’t care. I just wanted my baby girl back, safe, untouched, and unharmed.
Chapter 4
Kenya
“You used me,” I said.
Caltrone turned to look at me with a frown etched across his handsome face. I searched his features, finally seeing signs of Antonio there. Since Tone looked more like his mother, I hadn’t picked up on the similarities before. I felt stupid. So fucking stupid for not seeing it before. How could I have missed that shit? It was staring me right in the fucking face.
Two hours after Caltrone had dismissed me and Antonio, I decided that I just couldn’t sit still anymore. Being laid up in a sprawling villa in Cuba didn’t sit too well with me. Not when my daughter was somewhere out there. I had no idea where and that ate away at me. She had been gone for four whole months. I’d started to suspect the worst, but couldn’t bring myself to actually voice my worry.
Where was my baby? Was she okay? Did she cry at night? Had her body been violated? Was she fighting back? If she was anything like me and her father, she was giving whoever had her hell, I was sure. At least, that was what I liked to tell myself. Truth of the matter was, Jewel had run off on her own volition. More than likely, she’d done it just to spite her father. Yes, Antonio could be an asshole, but our daughter had to know he was looking out for her best interest.
“I no more used you than you did me,” Caltrone finally answered, jarring me from my thoughts. “Fair exchange is no robbery.”
He was fresh from the shower, a large white towel wrapped around his golden waist. Caltrone was really a conundrum. I knew the man was older, much older than I was, but he didn’t look a day over thirty. It seemed as if the man aged so slowly that he didn’t actually age at all. The only telltale sign of his age was the salt-and-pepper hair on his head. His skin was so smooth it made me envious. I couldn’t really explain what colors his eyes were. Sometimes they were hazel, other times just light brown. When he was angry, I’d seen them darken and turn to slits.
His lips were plush and made a woman want to know what it was like to have them somewhere on her body. He stood well over six feet with a body that put younger males to shame.
Caltrone had been sculpted and carved into perfection by God, or some evil force that sent him to earth to wreak havoc on the female persuasion. It was as clear as the night was long why he had a harem of women at his beck and call.
Caltrone’s butterscotch skin had been kissed just right by the sun. As he moved around his room, I watched the muscles in his back coil and move around like steel cables. His slow strides were powerful. He moved like each step meant something.
“You knew who I was when you sought after me,” I said.
He didn’t answer right away. He took his time putting on oils and cologne. That smell could be mesmerizing to any woman. Airy, musky, and spicy. The shit tickled my senses and made me shift my weight from one foot to the other. Clearly, Caltrone didn’t care I was in the room with him. He snatched the towel from around his waist and my eyes widened at the sight. The round globes of his ass sat perfectly as he took the time to neatly fold the towel and lay it where his housemaids could get to it easily.
Thighs thick with muscle and the patch of black silky hair around his dick drew my attention where it shouldn’t have been. That was the only place other than his head there was hair. I quickly cast my gaze on other things in the room. The big four-poster California king–sized bed was made up with white down comforters and pillows that looked inviting. There was a photo of a dark-skinned woman on his wall. Chick looked as if she could be a warrior as she was posed regally dressed in a leather catsuit with a spear in one hand and a gun in the other.
The hardwood floor was spotless and shined so smoothly I could see my reflection. A throne-like chair sat next to the floor-to-ceiling window on the left side of the room. Right across from the bed was a double door that led out to a balcony. I could see the waves crashing against the shore of the beach below.
“Of course I did, Kenya. What kind of businessman would I be if I didn’t know everything needed about the person I was doing business with?” he asked casually.
I wasn’t looking at him, but I could hear him moving around the room. I could only assume he was getting dressed, probably putting on pajamas since it was late at night. That was, until I heard shoes thumping on the floor. I turned to find Caltrone dressed in all black. Black turtleneck. Black jeans that fit his tall, athletic frame perfectly and black combat boots.
“I thought . . . I thought you only sought me out so you could put Lu away,” I said.
“Foolish of you to think that, although that was one of the reasons. The other reason was because I always wanted to have a lifeline to my son. I knew I could get that through you. Lu was collateral damage. He was too far gone, and had done too much wrong without balancing it out with good. My oldest son had to be put down. I knew he need
ed to be locked away. The fact that you were an ADA was icing on the cake,” he said.
“You played me.”
“No, I didn’t. I offered you a deal; you took it. Fair exchange is no robbery.”
“When you found me in my office, after Lu . . .” I stopped talking abruptly because I didn’t want to relive the memory. The only other person who knew what Lu had done to me was Caltrone. I swallowed the bile down as memories assaulted me.
“I’m sorry for what he did to you. Believe it or not, no matter what people say, I did not approve of the monster Lu became, just as I don’t approve of his sons.”
I cringed at the mention of his grandsons. Lu’s son, Damien Orlando, was raising hell in Atlanta. He ran the underground world of drugs, sex, gambling, and guns, and he even had his hand in politics. Damien’s reign was so legendary, not even the governor wanted to tangle with him. Shit had gotten progressively worse once his father was locked away. Damien made it his business to stalk me any chance he could. The threat was clear: I was going to pay for sending his father away.
For a while, nothing Damien had done could scare me. At least, that was what I’d told myself.
The men watching me outside my office, people breaking into my home, I still kept my head high and went into work every day. One day a kid in a hoodie with short locs gave me a message from Dame. The kid walked into the DA’s office and simply laid on my desk a bullet that had my name carved into it. While I wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t rattle me, there was something familiar about the kid I couldn’t place. I could have sworn he looked just like Jamir and Fatima Kweli, but I thought maybe my eyes had been playing tricks on me.