by Brick
Kenya, who had been clutching the clothes, now threw them down and sat back. On the slick, her hand dropped between us and I felt her pinch my thigh hard. I knew that was her way to keep her emotions, and mine, in check. “So that’s how they got my baby girl?” she asked in restraint.
“Partially. We believe Donna had been stalking our family, mainly you two and Jewel, for months now,” Benita answered.
That puzzled me. What the hell for? “Why do you say that?” I started until Kenya abruptly leaned forward.
I watched her rip through the bag and pull out a tablet and pictures. On display were images of young girls and Donna over them, laughing, frozen in several sexual positions. Anger flared in me for the young girls. But that wasn’t what had us pissed; it was the picture of a guy in a college jacket that drew our attention. Donna stood against him kissing his cheek, their hands locked, while she wore Jewel’s clothes, shoes, and a necklace her mother had given Jewel. Under that picture were notes on Jewel, our personal information, addresses, and where we both worked.
“There’s always a sloppy bitch,” Mark said, breaking the silence.
“Found her,” Maria-Rosa said with a smile. She then turned and said, “You get that, Benita?”
“Yeah. Heading there now,” she said, driving.
The whole time, my father sat in the front of the truck in silence. His jaw still twitched, which gave me a clue that he was in his thoughts. When I looked at Kenya she sat in the same way. Donna had to die. There was no way around it, and we just needed to make sure that we got to her before anyone else did.
Heading off the turnpike, we ended up in Inglewood, from what Maria-Rosa told us.
My father then spoke up, “We have representation here. Take us to our house in Baldwin Hills. We’ll wait for Donna to come to us.”
I could tell by the way we all looked at one another, everyone in the 4x4 wondered how Donna would come to us. But from the stoic expression on Maria-Rosa’s face, I gathered she had worked some magic that I didn’t know about.
An hour later, I stood pacing back and forth in an old Tudor-style home. Plastic covered the dark wooden floors. We all wore rubber boots with plastic bags tied around our feet. Rubber gloves were on our hands, our bodies in sanitation suits, and our hair tied back. Kenya sat in the same attire watching me as I paced.
“Are you sure she’ll come to us?” I heard her ask.
Tension kept me on edge. “I trust in my father in this part.”
“She helped take our daughter. She stalked us and she helped, and she watched, and—”
“I know, baby,” I quietly interrupted.
It was then that a loud scream and scraping could be heard. The door swung open and both Mark and Maria-Rosa strolled in, pulling the thrashing body of a female. Two unknown men were behind them and I figured they worked for my father. I watched them shut the door then glance up behind me.
I turned to see my father standing on the top step looking down at us all. A disgusted look was on his face and he seemed to burn holes into the screaming female.
“Let me go! I . . . I didn’t have shit to do with whatever you got me here fah. Let me go!” the girl screamed.
Hair was everywhere, and as they stood her up and made her look our way, I realized it was Donna. I felt a flash of cool air brush my jaw. With it came a loud, animalistic scream. Kenya had rushed forward. In her hand was an iron poker, one she had grabbed earlier from the fireplace. Wielding it, she slammed it against the girl’s face. Blood went everywhere, along with teeth.
“You took my daughter,” Kenya spat out.
Donna stumbled and fell to the floor. Tears fell and she cupped her face, blood pouring. “I don’t even know you,” she managed to get out.
“No shit, bitch. But you know Jewel. You know all those girls you lured into your sick, twisted world to hurt. You know that, huh?” she said stepping forward.
I stood, quiet, watching Kenya lose herself piece by piece as she stalked Donna.
“The girl is smart. She knows not to talk,” my father said from where he stood.
“Oh, she’s going to talk,” Kenya spat out. She slammed the poker into Donna’s thigh.
The girl screamed and tried to get away. “Stop, please. I don’t know no Jewel,” she said; yet the lie just didn’t sound like truth in the least bit.
“We found her on the Knights’ block,” one of my father’s men stated. “She had Jewel’s ID and purse.”
“Motherfucker, you lie,” Donna said heatedly. She slapped her hand against the door, leaving a bloody streak, and she tried to stand.
Kenya swung again, connecting with Donna’s skull. Rage turned Kenya into a monster. She smashed then stomped Donna and, before she could kill her, I stepped forward and carefully pulled her back.
“My turn,” was all I said.
Squatting down, I grabbed Donna by her leg then dragged her out of the foyer. “Now, Donna. You say you don’t know shit, didn’t see shit, ain’t hear shit, as they say? But all the evidence and your actions say otherwise. You dig?”
Of course, I got no answer. She just lay there breathing heavily as I dragged her to the kitchen. On my way through the hallway, I stopped only once to see if she was able to comprehend what was going on. Donna’s head lolled around, her arm strewn over her face.
When her head bumped a door, she groaned as her eyes fluttered. “You killed my man’s grandparents. You . .. you raped my best friend.”
A deep sigh came from the hallway. “No, girl. My familia and I didn’t. What you think is the case, isn’t.”
“You did,” she spat out trying to fight but failing.
It was then that my father walked forward and looked down at her face. “That’s what you all say, pero my method of killing and my intellect are far superior than to lower myself to such a thing. Your family was attacked by a false faction: people who wanted to be Orlandos but weren’t. Los Lobo Royals. We’ve since wiped them out for using my family’s name in vain. However, this anger does not excuse your foul treason and actions against us, now does it?”
We watched Donna weakly swing at us. My father moved in disgust, which allowed Kenya to walk up to her and stomp the girl in her face. I was pretty sure Kenya would have spit on Donna; however, she knew the law of DNA: don’t share it.
Positioning the girl in the middle of an opulent white French-style kitchen, I motioned for Kenya to stretch out Donna’s arm.
“Now that that is settled, Donna,” I asked in a sing-song voice, “where is Keith?”
When the girl said nothing, I chuckled. Then the sound of metal, namely a cleaver cutting and chopping through flesh, tendon, and bone, mixed with a sharp scream that rent the air. When that didn’t elicit a response, I tied off where I cut through, then moved on.
By the end of the night, Donna and I became close. With every piece of her, truths spilled from her bloody lips like rain. By the end of it, we learned that Ms. Donna was Fallon’s sister and that it was Keith who was the mastermind of the grand scheme, and that he had taken Jewel away to some place in Georgia.
With Donna’s last breath, I watched Kenya slice Donna’s throat open with a box cutter as the girl choked on a final word: “Caitlyn.”
Chapter 13
Kenya
“We need to see someone here before we head to Georgia. It’s imperative we cover our tracks here as cleanly as possible. For as much as I want to find Jewel, we do not need another blood feud on our hands. The Orlandos have had enough of that to span generations,” Caltrone said.
Something other than what we had going on was bothering the old man. There was a mutilated body that a cleaning team was getting rid of in the kitchen. Tone had asked them to leave the head and one arm. He was collecting souvenirs. For what, I didn’t know, but there was always a method to Tone’s madness.
“Are the Knights that big of a family or do they have enough power to tackle you?” I asked, curious as to why Caltrone seemed to be put off by the
notion of having to go to war with them.
The old man looked at me, pointedly. “It’s not about the size of the family or the amount of power they have. It’s about lines that have been drawn in the sand that all parties agreed not to cross. Emmanuel and Yasmine Knight are not ones to trifle with. They were formidable foes once and I’m sure they won’t hesitate to become so again. They’re like rabid wolves: once poked with a hot iron, nothing will stop them until their thirst for blood has been quenched. To go to war with them will not just affect the Orlandos. It will reach past us, to those who we’ve made enemies of before. It is a war we can’t afford to fight nor lose.”
“Yeah, but if they had something to do with Jewel being taken—”
Caltrone held up a hand to stop me. “She wasn’t taken. She left on her own. I seriously doubt the Knights would have had anything to do with that part. However, just like me, if someone kills blood for reasons I feel are trivial, I will seek revenge at all costs.”
“My daughter isn’t trivial,” Tone cut in.
“No, mijo, she isn’t, not to us, but to them she means nothing, especially if she willingly left home. If Donna in there is indeed the daughter or any close kin of the Knights, we will have a serious problem on our hands.”
I looked at Tone, not sure what to make of everything Caltrone had just said. On top of worrying about whether we would get our child back in one piece, we also had to worry about stepping on the toes of another family I’d never heard of before. Tone glanced at me, but quickly turned his eyes back to his father. I could tell he wanted to ask him more questions but decided against it for the moment.
* * *
A flight and one hour later, Caltrone, Tone, and I ended up in Fresno, California. We walked into a cathedral so big it was intimidating.
“We came to a church?” I asked just to be sure Caltrone was at the right place.
The church had a Roman Catholic feel. It was constructed of red brick. The facade had a triple entry framed by two square towers with spires. Above the entry sat a small rose window. Inside was impressive as well, but I didn’t have time to get a good look at it. My attention was diverted to the two men who were meeting Caltrone down the long aisle.
The man in priest robes could have passed for Caltrone’s twin had he had gray hair. They both had a full head of hair, but the priest’s hair was coarser than Caltrone’s. I looked at Tone to see if he knew the man. Judging by the stoic look on his face, I’d have said he did.
“There is an Orlando priest?” I asked him.
He grunted. “Don’t let the robes fool you. He’s a good dude, but he is still an Orlando,” Tone told me.
“Speak your piece, Carlos, then leave these grounds. They are for the holy or those looking for redemption and you are anything but,” the priest said as soon as he came face-to-face with Caltrone.
His voice surprised me as it carried a timbre that would make any woman drop her drawers on command. I blinked a few times, trying to figure out what relation the priest was to Caltrone. “Who the hell is Carlos?” I asked.
Tone grabbed my hand and pulled me back a bit. “Kenya,” he called out to me. “Your mouth, keep it closed,” he said.
“I need your help,” Caltrone said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only one who can help me.”
“No, why should I care you need my help?”
“You’re a priest, Rueben. To not help me would go against your religion, sí?”
Rueben’s jaw twitched and his eyes darkened a bit. Priest or not, he was clearly an Orlando and he most definitely did not want Caltrone to be in his presence. “It’s Father Rueben to you, and don’t use my religious beliefs against me,” the priest said.
I was so caught up in the exchange between Father Rueben and Caltrone that when I caught another man staring at me, I yelped and jumped behind Tone.
“Can I touch her?” the man asked Tone.
Tone visibly bristled. “No, Uncle Savoy, you cannot touch her.”
“She’s pretty,” Savoy said while tilting his head. “Like a porcelain doll.”
My mouth hung open like my jaws were unhinged. One side of the man’s face was burned beyond recognition. The other side was perfectly fine. His good eye was as black as the night was long. The other socket had a milky-colored glass eye that seemed to roll around on its own. However, on one side his head was a full set of auburn ropey locs. He literally had two faces. All three men were tall and statuesque, with Father Rueben being the tallest by two inches or so. Any time Father Rueben looked at Caltrone, his honey brown eyes blazed like a fire was burning behind them.
While Father Rueben was dressed in priest robes, Savoy looked like he belonged to a biker gang. He wore a leather jacket that had the same Orlando symbol as the ring Caltrone wore. Black biker boots adorned his feet, and tethered jeans sat loose around his hips but tight enough against his thighs that I could see the muscles strain any time he moved. The gym was his friend, as his chest and arms were sculpted with muscle. A diamond earring sat in his left lobe and drew attention to the burned side of his face. Clearly the man had been handsome before the burn to his face. Even as he was smiling now, the burn did little to hide the attractiveness he once possessed.
“Stop staring, Kenya,” Tone said to me. “Don’t stare at him. He’ll think you want him or are making fun of him. Either way, don’t stare.”
I quickly cast my glance down at the floor.
“Is there someplace we can talk that isn’t out here in the open like this?” Caltrone asked.
“No,” Father Rueben plainly stated. “You wanted me and Savoy here, we’re here. Talk,” he said to Caltrone but then looked at Tone. “Antonio, I’m sorry for my bluntness but, as you know, where your father goes, trouble follows. How have you been?”
“My daughter is missing, Uncle Rueben. I’m not doing well at all,” Tone answered.
Father Rueben nodded once. “Understandable. And is this your wife?”
Tone nodded a lie. “She is.”
Father Rueben stepped forward and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”
“Pleased to meet you as well,” I responded.
Savoy stepped forward but Father Rueben, Caltrone, and Tone stepped in front of me. “Savoy,” Father Rueben said.
Savoy put his hands in the air as if he were being robbed. “What? I can’t introduce myself to the lady?”
“No,” they all said at once.
“Carlos, tell me what you need and please be on your way. I can keep Savoy in here for only so long,” Father Rueben said.
He was calling Caltrone Carlos and it baffled me. I made the mistake of looking at Savoy again. He was watching me like an eagle did prey. There was a smirk on his face and he rolled his shoulders as he did so. I frowned and looked over at Tone. I had so many questions about the trio and why Father Rueben seemed to be able to talk to Caltrone like he wasn’t the head of the biggest criminal enterprise on North American soil. However, today wouldn’t be the day I got to ask them.
“The Knights; we need you to keep any mention of me being in California off their radar until we leave and for as long as you can after we’re gone,” Caltrone said.
Father Rueben frowned. “The Knights, Carlos? You’ve crossed that line?”
“I’ve done no such thing, at least not intentionally so.”
I stood by quietly as Tone and Caltrone explained all that had happened over the last few months all the way up until we had killed Donna an hour or so ago. While Savoy had taken great interest in me moments earlier, as Father Rueben and Caltrone spoke, he paid close attention to what they were saying. Once Tone and Caltrone were done, Father Rueben took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then shook his head.
“I’m not sure what I can do with such short notice, Carlos, but I’ll do what I can. I want you to know I’m only doing this for Antonio . . . and for Carmen.”
Whe
n Father Rueben said Carmen’s name, Caltrone’s face contorted and he looked at the priest as if he had just cursed him. There was history there.
Savoy laughed and tsked. He said, “Carmen, Carmen, Carmen.” Savoy sang her name like it was a soulful melody. “Surprised you didn’t learn your lesson the first time around where women were involved, big bro. First Moses and then Rueben.” Savoy tsked again and shook his head. “At least Rueben is still alive, sí?”
Caltrone made a move so quick toward Savoy that it was like lightning. Rueben stepped between the two men and Tone grabbed his father’s forearm. That wasn’t the kicker, though. From behind doors and confessionals, men in robes came out as if they were guards. Shit reminded me of some Knights Templar shit with how they all homed in on Caltrone. There were serious gazes on the faces of the ones I could see and they looked as if they meant business. Father Rueben lifted a hand and then waved it. The other priests disappeared as quickly as they had come.
Caltrone spat out Spanish venomously at Savoy while Rueben shoved Savoy back and asked Caltrone to leave.
“Di una palabra más a mí y yo te corto la lengua,” Caltrone said. “Say another word to me and I’ll cut your tongue out,” Caltrone had told Savoy.
Savoy fixed his lips and pretended to spit Caltrone’s way. “Not unless you have gloves on and wash your hands at least thirty times you won’t, estúpido.”
“This is a place of worship and you two will respect my house!” Father Rueben shouted.
Savoy backed down quickly. Caltrone looked as if he was still ready to fight. And, judging by the looks on both Tone’s face and mine, we were baffled by the events unfolding before us.
Chapter 14
Kenya
Caltrone stormed from the church like the hounds of hell were on his ass.
I had so many questions, but I knew the answers would not come easy. I’d seen Caltrone in a different light in the past few hours. While most of us assumed Caltrone was larger than life, he had shown a more human side, one I thought he was incapable of possessing.
“Are you going to explain to me what just happened in there?” I asked Tone once we were back on the plane and heading to Atlanta. I had thought Caltrone would take a day or two to rest and regroup, but I was damn glad he didn’t. I was anxious to get my child. I had no idea what else her kidnapper would do to her and the thought of it made me uneasy.