by Brick
* * *
Running my gaze over the droplets of water that skimmed, dripped, and splattered onto the plastic runner that was under his chair, I watched him in thought. In my mind, I was back in med school studying the cadavers and developing my surgical techniques, except now I was squatting with that red cup between my thighs.
“So you’re awake now? Huh?” I asked in a cool, calm voice, still watching him with dark, seething hatred.
The amused baritone chuckle of my father filled the room. From my peripheral I made note of a man I never thought I’d seek out to ask for help. Because of this situation, I had stepped to the throne of the devil and accepted his counsel, and now I had to embrace the council seat he crafted for me at birth. As my father smoothly took several strides forward, his handsome face was twisted in disgust and similar anger. His disgust was not at what Keith said, but at the filth of the room and the shit that spilled to the floor from where he sat bound.
Holding a painter’s mask against his nose and mouth, he stopped near me, then took the mask away. “I like your fire, but we don’t want your fear.”
Swiftly my hand clamped down on Keith’s, and I angrily snapped his middle finger back and watched him scream.
“Hijo, I think we need to start back at the beginning, right?”
Looking up at my father’s stone-cold expression, I nodded, then stood up, grabbing the clear tubing. This time, I dropped it purposely into this nigga’s shit then picked it up, frowning.
“So unsanitary, son,” I heard Caltrone say, flashing his pearly whites then stepping behind Keith to grab him by his mouth and force his lips apart. “Pick your poison, Keith.”
“No. No. No,” Keith sputtered.
Capping his mouth then jamming the shit-covered tube down his throat, I dropped low and picked up a pair of dice. Clicking them around in my fist, I dropped them then smiled. “Looks like your lucky day. Scorpion venom it is.” Tapping the jars behind me, I watched as the liquid slowly crept up the tube.
Keith sputtered and jerked and tears ran down the side of his face.
Pressing my gloved hands on top of Keith’s bound ones so they would cut into the wood of the chair, I leaned close to his face. “So, back to the beginning, as my father said. We found ourselves in Mexico, trailing your lowlife ass, and guess what we find out.”
My gaze shifted to lock on my father as Keith’s screams filled the room and he nodded in approval.
“Right. Death.”
Chapter 25
Antonio
The sound of gagging and choking was now a comforting melody for me. I stood in front of Keith as his chair scraped and rocked. He was exhausted from being pumped with fluids and forced to swallow scorpions. The anti-venom shot I gave him was the only thing keeping him going. Which was purposeful because I wanted him to suffer for as long as he hurt my child. Darkness had eaten at my sanity and goodness because of this nigga and I was aiming to hear his excuse why. Now, if he didn’t give it, I really didn’t give a damn. Having him suffer as he was right now was enough. It put a huge smile on my face and had me slapping him to get his attention.
“Now, how was that story, Keith? That was the day we learned your real name and the day I learned the extent of the pain you put on my daughter by your friends. Through your friend Fallon’s death, I learned and saw what you did.” The sound of straps harshly rubbing against each other as they zipped to snap and hold Keith’s arms down behind him kept me in my zone.
Casually moving around the small room, I frowned as I kicked items out of the way and pressed my hands behind my back. It was then that I heard rustling on the bed and Kenya gently whispering to my daughter who spat out, “No!”
My attention went to her immediately as I stared at dark eyes that matched my own.
“That day . . . That day, Daddy . . .” The pain in her voice was broken and rimmed in agony and anger. Fury was apparent in the way her knuckles turned white from gripping the ends of her T-shirt on her thighs.
I saw blood seeping from her palms and the old part of me, the doctor, was ready to tend to her wounds, but my attention was on the man who had her here. Sadly, another part of me, a darkness that was angry at my daughter, was also tapping at the door in my mind, but I had to keep that back for both of our sanity.
“I thought we were going back home. He told me that we’d be going on a quick trip, a tiny getaway to just chill and have fun. Like a kind of spring break. That’s why we were in Mexico. But when he got this strange call about picking up some package and I heard it, that’s when he changed.”
Keith grunted loud, struggling and shaking his head.
An amused chuckle came from me. “Ah, so you say she’s a liar? Bet that’s what you’re trying to say. But, check it, you’ll have your time to talk soon. Just relax, okay?” Patting his hand, I snapped another finger and nodded at my daughter to continue.
Wide-eyed, Jewel scooted to the edge of the bed. “I’m not lying though. We were checking out when he got that call. Before that, he was acting all normal; then, after, he told me that he was going to take me home but he wanted to have me meet some of his family. Because he said he loved me and wanted them to meet me. So, thinking that he was down for me, I gave him more money and we left for Houston.”
The shame in Jewel’s face ate at my spirit as she spoke on, “I didn’t feel any type of way until we got there and they decided to throw some type of party. Then, I mean, by then it was too late. I’m so sorry. I felt sick and woozy and wanted to go, but I ended up in the back room and—”
“Pills and laced weed. We found evidence of that at the apartment,” I said cutting her off, not wanting to hear more.
I stared at Keith and he locked his watery eyes on me. When that nigga winked at me, I sent my fist into his face. That chair rocked back and forward. Rolling my shoulders, I turned to head back to my table where Kenya now stood.
“Here,” she said unfolding a bundle that had various tools in it.
Caltrone had given her the instruments and told her to learn to use them. However, it was the duffle bag she picked up and handed to me as she walked past Keith, where our daughter sat, that was important in this moment.
The sound of Kenya grunting then sharp, muffled screaming had me noticing Kenya holding a fingernail in her hand. She gave me a blank look, then turned to where Caltrone stood holding a bag.
“Drop it inside, mami,” he said with a sinister chuckle. “You are a prized treasure.”
Sweat started beading at my temple. I wiped it clean with my arm then smirked when Kenya strolled back to where that nigga sat and wrapped her arm around his neck in a choke hold.
“Now pay attention to what papi has to say. It’s only going to get better,” she hissed in Keith’s ear.
It was funny to me because in my years of knowing Kenya, she never spoke Spanish, except here and there due to what she learned from me. The diction in her tone was all what she absorbed from me and our time around my mother and other Latinos, and it was a mixture of our black heritage as well. That blend and the way she occasionally threw specific phrases in there always made me smile and, at that moment, I was grinning wide.
Walking up to the chair, out of old habit, I smacked her ass then focused on the threat. “We brought you a present from Fallon,” I said.
Leaning over to dig in it, I pulled out a plastic jar. It was one of those bulk-size mustard jars. Unscrewing the white top, I tilted it forward and let Keith peer inside. When he started screaming, I smirked.
“See, after letting Fallon relax on the Judas Cradle, it was my nephew who decided to collect several souvenirs. See, I’m not about harming children but since you decided to harm mine and he participated, I mean, what could a nigga like me do in that situation? I thought, I am a surgeon and these people sure do look like they need my help.” Tapping my chin, I chuckled and then grinned. “What would Keith do?”
As I spoke, Kenya had let him go so that I could do my work.
&n
bsp; I moved to stand back in front of him and glared. “I asked that a lot on my journey to find you and you know what? I tapped into my joy of dissecting. All thanks to you and my nephew, Mark.. But back to Houston: taking Fallon’s woman apart was difficult, but I say that it was when my nephew began to work on those children that everything changed. I blame you for it. Just to let you know. All that blood, these eyes in this jar, the teeth, the ears, and the tiny fingers: all your doing.”
Stepping back, I sighed and stared at the ceiling in a long, drawn-out silence. I’d never betray my truth of how disgusted and torn apart I was in taking the children out and watching my nephew take out everyone associated with Fallon. Killing on this mass level wasn’t something I had prepared myself for but, at the time, I was in it and there was no turning back. I knew I was going to burn for my actions but, at the same time, I didn’t care. This was vengeance and I intended to dish it out to those who hurt my child.
Flexing my gloved fingers, I tilted my head somewhat to the side and saw from my peripheral Kenya reaching for Jewel. It was time for her to take care of our baby girl and move her out of this room. She gave me a slight glance and I knew that Jewel had seen enough of my madness. Kenya quietly escorted Jewel out of the room then closed the door behind her. I knew that she would be back shortly, because she too wasn’t done flexing her wrath.
On the way out, Jewel turned to look at me as she weakly struggled to walk out and said, “He said the Orlandos killed his grandparents and raped his girl. That they took everything from them and he was going to do the same.”
I gave a loud sigh after the door closed and I settled on what was said. When Caltrone laughed, I saw him crossing his arms over his chest and smirking.
“Mierda! Bullshit. Everybody says that and though you wouldn’t be wrong, this time you are. I don’t know of you or your family,” he casually gloated as if he didn’t give a damn, or as if that wasn’t an effective excuse. I liked to believe that my father felt that Keith’s reasoning wasn’t an effective excuse, because the motherfucker was crazy and I had fallen down that pit with him.
Focusing my attention back on Keith I stared down at him, standing wide-legged and studying him. “My pops might be right in that, so guess what, homie? You know that this is your fault and all of this is only a taste of what you’re going to feel. Now, let’s move on to our next adventure. Going after your girl, Donna.”
It was then that my father walked out of the room. He immediately came back with another bag then set it on Keith’s lap. “We have another special gift for you. Something I took pride in hunting down personally,” my father said.
“And something I had to pull apart,” I added.
Unzipping the bag, my father walked to Keith like an old-school gangsta. No expression, just stoic blinks, and I stared at our enemy the same way. He widened the opening in the bag and an arm with a similar chess piece on the shoulder plopped out, along with a mane of black curly hair. When Keith let out a fierce roar from behind his mouth binding, I knew that we had hit home.
“On to the next phase, hijo,” my father said while handing me my next torture device.
I gave my father a nod. He stood against a wall, making sure not to touch anything. Also keeping my movement to a minimum, I thumbed my nose while walking around the chair. “‘Baby girl put up a fight and she gave it up so damn good.’ Isn’t that what you said on that tape with my daughter?” I asked, my voice turning to pure ice.
Pausing at Keith’s shoulder I didn’t miss a beat when I dropped a clear bag over his face, pulling hard. I watched the nigga shake and quake and try his best to pull at his restraints, including kicking while the plastic conformed to his face, vacuum-sealing itself to his face. Counting slowly, after watching his body and checking his pulse, I knew that he was close to passing out.
That was when I ripped off the bag, leaned close to him, and muttered, “It’s not time for you to burn in hell. We’re not done here and Satan is waiting his turn. So sit back and listen.”
Chapter 26
Kenya
As I walked Jewel out to the van, I felt a mixture of elation and disappointment. I was happy as hell to have my child back, but disappointed that it had taken us so long to find her. There was no doubt in my mind that she was forever changed behind this. She had been missing for five months. For five months she had been in the hands of this monster. I prayed she didn’t hold it against us. Even though she had left willingly, I prayed she knew and understood the lengths we had to go to find her.
Jewel walked like she was sore. Judging by the bruises on her body I was sure that she was. Her lips were dry and chapped. Dried blood caked one corner of her mouth. She looked like she had aged way beyond her seventeen years. She looked down at the ground and then at the trees like she hadn’t seen outside in a long while. She smelled, too, and I couldn’t wait to get her somewhere so she could bathe and relax.
Then she, I, and her father would have a long conversation.
“I’m so tired, Mama,” she said once I helped her into the van. She looked exhausted. Her hair had grown longer, but it was matted to her head. There was no need for me to ask what she had been through because I had long ago figured it out, not to mention the evidence of her ordeal that I’d laid eyes on.
“I know, baby,” I said. “Keep the blanket wrapped around you until we leave. We can get you a hot bath and some food, and then we can all talk, okay?”
I didn’t care that she was soiled and filthy. I ran a hand over her head and then caressed her face. We were quiet a moment after I slid into the van to sit next to her. I wrapped my arm around her as she laid her head on my shoulder. So much had changed in our lives over the past few months. More had changed over the last month to be exact. I’d been away from my home and away from my fiancé. I’d been on the road and locked away with my child’s father for over four weeks. My relationship with Tone had changed, and more for the better actually. But that was another topic for another time. We’d found Jewel and that was the only thing that mattered to me in the moment.
Soon, her body started to shake and her tears returned. I let her cry as I did also. We shed tears for different reasons I was sure.
“Is that man really my grandfather?” she asked.
I sighed then nodded. Jewel had no idea that her father and I had signed over our lives to find her. “He is, baby. He is.”
“Why didn’t I know about him?” she asked.
“Your father was . . . He felt as if it was the right thing to do. I didn’t even know he was your grandfather until a few weeks ago.”
“He looks like that man you put in prison,” she said. “The man who used to be on the news.”
I knew she was referring to Lu Orlando. One day I would explain it to her, but now wasn’t the time. Just as I was about to tell her that, gunshots rang out in the house. I jumped. Jewel screamed.
One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.
Four.
My heart leapt into my throat. There were only three people in that room. One was tied down to a chair. That only left Caltrone and Antonio. For as much as I appreciated the old man for helping us find Jewel, something in me still wouldn’t allow myself to trust him.
Four shots.
I scrambled from the van, almost tripping over my own feet, rushing to get to Antonio. I rushed in to find Caltrone cursing in Spanish, Keith laughing hysterically, and Tone lying facedown on the floor.
“Antonio,” I screamed. My heart had leapt into my throat. Tears clouded my eyes. He was lying facedown, blood pooled underneath him.
“Por qué no Jewel decirnos alguien más estaba aquí?” Caltrone spat out venomously.
I ran and dropped down near Tone trying to turn him over. The fact that Caltrone was angry and asking why Jewel hadn’t told us someone else was there didn’t register to me. I didn’t even see that the cane Caltrone was carrying had been pulled apart and a long sword was dripping with blood. Didn’t
pay attention to the fact that the old man was sweating bullets and had started pacing the floor fussing and cussing in a mixture of Spanish and broken English.
Nor did I question the reason Keith had seemed to flourish with new life as he laughed and laughed. “I’m good now,” he groaned out. “So good now. You killed her. Thought you Orlandos were a smart bunch, especially you, Caltrone, but you did it. You really did it,” Keith taunted then threw his head back and laughed. “You cut off the head of a daughter of Emmanuel and Yasmin Knight.”
Keith was so tickled by the notion that he started to choke on his own blood as he sat like a rag doll in the chair. I didn’t care in the moment. I flipped Tone over to see blood covering where his heart was.
“No, no, no,” I moaned. “Antonio,” I screamed as I shook him. “You better not leave me and Jewel here with this crazy-ass old man, Tone. I swear to God if you’re dead, I’m going to kill you,” I cried. “Tone,” I yelled again, still shaking him.
Panic rippled through me. I never thought about what it would mean for Jewel and me if Tone died. I never thought about how that would affect our relationship with Caltrone and the rest of the Orlando family. If Tone were killed, it would kill his mother no doubt, but it would crush me. To have done all of this to get Jewel only to lose Antonio . . . The thought caused a blinding moment of grief to overtake me.
Before the reality of the moment could set in, Tone opened his eyes. “He had another girl in here,” was all he said.
I breathed a sigh of relief and rushed in to hug him. He returned the hug then gently pushed me back. In his hand, I saw a gun. He slowly sat up and looked behind him. It was only then that I noticed the headless body of a girl. Near Caltrone’s feet lay the head of Caitlyn Knight.
“She came out of nowhere,” Caltrone barked. “Gun in hand, shooting to kill. She shot my son,” he said.
I didn’t know if he was talking to me or himself. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Caltrone had lost touch with reality a bit.