by Keta Kendric
“I’m okay,” she mumbled.
At a glance, I could tell that she was anything but okay.
“We are building trust remember? I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”
She glanced across the table, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she stated. A sorrowful glint filled her eyes and made me that much more curious. I was the king of crazy. Therefore, there wasn’t much she could tell me to make me believe she was crazier.
She swallowed a few times but didn’t speak. I kept my gaze pinned on her and leaned over the table to await her answer.
“I keep seeing him,” she confirmed. “I keep seeing Sorio. When Marcus took me shopping. Today on the drive here. One day when I was sitting on the balcony enjoying the view. Even after August took Megan and me into your garage and showed us what was left of his body, I still see him.”
“Wait. Aaron showed ya’ll that crazy ass shit? He beat the man into a fucking bloody puddle,” I uttered in the lowest tone I could muster.
She nodded. “August promised me that he’d kill him, the same as he’d promised Megan, so he showed us.”
And Aaron thought I was the crazy one. I cast aside my cousin’s crazy actions. “So, you think you’re seeing your dead cousin?”
She nodded again as embarrassment washed over her face before she started to bite on one of her short nails. I reached across the table and eased her hand away from her mouth. I’d heard her scream herself awake some nights. Each time, I’d flipped on the camera feed and watched her toss and turn until she got up and started reading.
She didn’t sleep most nights, and neither did I, a common link we shared. However, she turned to books to deal with her anxiety, and I dealt with mine in a more unconventional way.
“Regina, you’re not crazy,” I reassured her. “That bitch-ass cousin of yours put you through hell. You’re probably suffering from post-traumatic stress. Would you like for me to set you up to see a doctor?”
“No!” she answered louder than she intended, drawing a few glances our way. “I’ll be okay. I know it’s all in my head. I don’t want to see a doctor, not yet at least. It’s just…sometimes the images are so real. It’s like he just stands there and stares at me.”
“I’d planned to give you more time before I started this but, in a few days, I would like to start teaching you how to protect yourself.”
Her stare lingered on me before she nodded her head. Aaron had informed that she didn’t like guns, but I planned to make her love them.
“Would you excuse me for a minute?” I asked, standing. Regina nodded before I walked away. I sensed her gaze following me as I searched for a quiet corner out of earshot of her and the other customers.
I stood in a corner near the restrooms.
“Say again, JG,” I stated as I peered around the bend and cast my gaze through the front windows lining the restaurant. I’d been listening to dialogue between my team as Regina and I dined.
They’d spotted two men watching my building a few days ago, and now those same assholes had shown up outside the restaurant. I’d intended to get Regina out of the house for a quiet lunch, but our outing had flushed out a couple of lurkers.
Hopefully, my crew and I could figure out who the hell they were, how many, and what the fuck they wanted.
“At your two o’clock. One outside the black SUV, the other inside behind the steering wheel,” JG’s voice informed.
My view was obscured inside the restaurant, but I spotted the assholes JG pointed out. They were some dumb fucks if they thought they were getting their hands on Regina. From a distance, the one outside the SUV didn’t appear to be Mexican like the others DG6 had sent after Megan. Also, I couldn’t rule out that this could have been one of my family’s enemies, or even mine. The California chapter of the August Knights was just as trouble inspiring as the Florida chapter.
“JG, keep eyes on. Marcus, Scott, you know what to do if they take off. Let me know if they come this way.” Rob had remained back, to protect the home front.
“Roger,” “Tracking,” came their replies into my ear as I headed back towards our table.
I hadn’t stepped away from Regina a hot minute, and she already had a vulture circling. Her cluelessness about her beauty made her that much more appealing.
She must have sensed the lurking eyes of the guy at the table across from ours because she glanced over at the man and smiled. Instead of returning her smile and getting back to his food, that motherfucker had taken Regina’s smile as an invitation to engage. He turned in his seat, leaned in, and started speaking to her.
My steps slowed when JG’s voice returned in my ear. “The one in the truck has binoculars. Should we engage?”
“Yes,” I answered JG. “In five minutes, make an example out of one of those fuckers.”
“Roger that,” came JG’s delighted words in the earpiece. My crew and I had killed more men together as civilians than we had while in the military. Like me, none of my crew had a problem with killing. Especially when it was motherfuckers like DG6 that preyed on the weak and unprepared that couldn’t fight back.
My fiery gaze had never left the idiot who’d turned towards our table, staring a hole in Regina. She’d been enjoying her meal in peace, and he was intent to not let her. If he knew what was good for him, he’d return to his meal and mind his fucking business.
After pressing 911, I awaited the sound of the operator.
“Please send someone to Prescott Avenue and 34th. There are two men arguing outside across the street from Manuelle’s Restaurant and one has a gun. Hurry! I think he’s going to shoot.”
Not giving the operator a chance to ask me more questions, I hung up. The area we were in was one of the most upscale locations in the city, so the cops would most likely arrive in five minutes, give or take a few seconds.
21
Ansel
As quiet as carbon monoxide, I eased closer to our table. The fucker had the nerve to have eased his chair closer to Regina’s. He should have sensed the flames that had started spraying from my eyes. Her pinched expression and stiff posture revealed that he’d told her something she didn’t want to hear.
I prayed he would touch her so I’d have an excuse to stomp a mudhole in his ass. He’d seen us enter the restaurant together. He’d sat and watched me assist Regina into her chair. He’d also sat at his table snatching glances at her the entire time. Never mind the fact that I’d persuaded her to put on that sexy ass blue dress and those come-fuck-me red heels I’d had her pinned to my wall in.
Now, here he was. He’d wormed his seat closer to our table, sniffing after the wrong woman.
The next action dragged along in slow motion. Regina’s linen fluttered to the floor, and ass-hat reached down to pick it up.
Instead of handing the linen to Regina, this asshole stood and stepped closer. When he reached down and over her to spread the napkin over her lap, my teeth sank so deep into my bottom lip, my mouth started to tremble.
His hand grew closer, and my gaze followed it. Regina maintained a friendly posture even as concern danced in her gaze. Her eyes settled on his hand, before he grazed the side of her exposed shoulder. He slid his hand down, unable to help himself. I knew she felt like a lucid dream, but he had no right putting his hands on her.
The frown that found its way to Regina face spoke volumes as he leaned his soon-to-be-dead ass down to tell her something. I was about to burn this fucking restaurant to the ground because my body had ignited into hell-flames. Death, murder, and destruction were all I comprehended.
Regina noticed me as soon as I came into view. Her gaze met mine as the asshole stood over her, his lips inching closer to her ear. I crept up to the table, my mind on murder, even as my brain reminded me that I needed to stay out of jail to keep Regina safe.
“If you don’t back the fuck away from her, that dull butter knife she used to butter her roll is what I’ll use to s
ever your carotid artery, right after I snap every finger on your right hand for touching her shoulder.”
He snatched his hand away from Regina. I was sure my green eyes blazed with orange flames.
I stepped closer, and he backed off, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Surrounding diners started to glance in our direction the moment the razor sharp edge of my voice sounded. After the man backed away, more eyes fell on our confrontation.
“You mean no disrespect? Yet, the moment I stepped away, you get your ass up and invade her personal space, fucking touch her, and attempt to whisper in her ear. That sounds like three different levels of disrespect to not only me but especially to her.”
My raised voice drew just about every eye in the restaurant as people peeked around corners and each other to get a look, but I didn’t give a fuck. The sound of forks and spoons falling into plates registered as hushed tones turned into dead silence.
“Ansel, can we leave?” Regina inquired in a low tone, her gaze meeting the floor in embarrassment. “Please?” she begged when I took another step closer to the man.
When I took two quick steps and got in the man’s face, she jumped from her seat and tugged at my arm. “Ansel. Don’t do this. Don’t make a scene. We were having a good time.”
She gripped my wrist, and I was sure she felt the tremble in my body as I fought to control my rage. Her pleading eyes begged me not to disappoint her, but I couldn’t grant her request. Based on his wide-eyed gape and flaring nostrils, the man was praying her words would stifle the flames fuming off my body.
Staring down, I glanced into Regina’s pleading gaze.
“I can’t let this shit go,” I uttered through clenched teeth. “I’m going to beat this motherfucker’s ass,” I confirmed in a tone calmer than my coiled body portrayed. “I told you, Regina, if someone put their hands on you, there would be a fucking problem.” I half-heartedly pointed at the man stupid enough to still be standing there, but my gaze remained on her. “That’s a fucking problem.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted the two restaurant security guards who were headed our way. They were just in time to keep me from killing this man. I removed Regina’s hand from my arm before taking her by the waist to shove her to safety. After I was certain of her safety, I reared back and socked the asshole in the face.
He staggered back and fell against his table. The loud knocking of his body against the table and the clattering of dishes as they crashed into each other caused loud gasps to spill out from the other diners. Stunned hands flew up to mouths, but no one moved closer to break up the fight.
The man was so stunned by the hard punch that his mouth dropped open as wide as his eyes. He grasped at his face and busted lip. With him pinned against the table, I didn’t hold back as I pounced and started wailing on him.
“You touched,” Punch “the wrong,” Punch “woman,” Punch. “Blatant,” Punch “fucking,” Punch “disrespect.” The sound my fist made when it connected with his head may as well have been a bat striking concrete. A free therapy session was what I was giving his ass. He’d never approach another man’s woman.
The guards started running towards us as Regina stood in place, yelling for me to stop. “Ansel, please! Stop it!”
While all eyes were on me beating the hell out of this guy, who deserved the ass whipping he got, the crowd had no idea of the swirling chaos about to take place outside.
“Three, two, one…” JG counted down in my ear right before my knuckle connected with the man’s jawbone. I didn’t need to look at the wimpy asshole in front of me to beat his ass. He was my size, so this fight would have been more exciting if he’d at least fought back.
My sharp gaze darted in the direction of the man standing outside the black SUV parked across the street. A smile crept across my face when his brains splattered against the passenger side glass and the top of the vehicle. It looked like a watermelon had been dropped from ten stories above.
A security officer gripped me from behind, pinning my arms at my sides.
“Marcus! Scott!” I called, knowing they would know to follow the one in the SUV preparing to run. Sirens sounded, but the driver was screeching away from the scene, leaving his dead buddy sliding the rest of the way down the side of the vehicle and hitting the road.
“Mr. Knox, please settle down!” The security guard in front of me yelled as his buddy gripped me in a bearhug from behind. I didn’t fight. All eyes were on me and the bloody asshole who had crumpled to the floor, coughing up blood.
The diners weren’t clued in to what was happening outside. But, they didn’t matter. My main concern was keeping as much of the bad from Regina as I could. If images of her dead cousin were surfacing, she was suffering more than she admitted. I’d rather her think me a crazy asshole than to know that motherfuckers had already started their quest to snatch her.
“Mr. Knox, are you okay?” The security officer questioned as he continued to hold me from behind. I nodded and allowed him to release me. The restaurant manager bent to check on the asshole I’d beaten.
The restaurant owner was a loyal member of one of my clubs. He glanced up at me from the bloody asshole he kneeled next to and gave me a knowing head nod. Regina skirted away from my hand when I reached for her.
“Let’s go,” I ordered, my voice firm and demanding. I pointed her in the direction we were going in and gave her a gentle nudge, despite her being disgusted with me. She didn’t ask why I was leading her through the kitchen and towards a back door. Her pinched expression and stiff postured revealed her anger as we walked out of the door and stepped up to my waiting and already running car. I helped her in but didn’t close the door.
“I forgot something,” I informed her. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and gazed straight ahead with her lips tightly pinched. She’d seen the devil in me slip out, and she was deciding if she could deal with him or not. Hell, she’d grown up around a devil her whole life—she just didn’t know it at the time.
I jogged back into the restaurant, glancing back at her briefly before the view of her was taken away when I opened the door and stepped inside.
22
Regina
The scary version of Ansel I’d met the first day we’d been introduced had emerged. He harbored this brute force inside him that I was sure had never been tamed. How could I have let myself think that because he was attracted to me that I’d never meet that version of him again? I was older, but so much more naïve than him.
He’d never hidden his true self from me, but I’d chosen to see what I wanted: the playful, handsome, and hardworking parts of him. There was also that sexy and seductive part of him that left me breathless and twisted up with lust and desire. This incident proved that I needed to be afraid even though he’d taken on the task of protector.
When the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand, I peered through the windshield, swiveled my neck around and searched for what or who, I hadn’t a clue.
I jumped, my head nearly striking the ceiling when my door popped open. My hand sat on my heaving chest as my raspy breaths bounced around the interior of the car. A strong hand reached in and gripped the front of my dress, jerking me out of the door with unyielding strength. I’d assumed it was Ansel who’d opened the door, but I was wrong.
The strong scent of cigarettes drifted up my nose and invaded my lungs as powerful arms tightened around my neck. The other arm was a vise around my body as tart, hot breath swiped across my face and shot up my nose to join the cigarette stench I’d inhaled. Despite the nausea his smoky breath dredged up, I filled my lungs with as much air as I could and prepared to scream my head off.
“He...”
My yell for help was cut short when a big hand was thrown over my mouth. My heart hammered hard enough to chip away pieces of my chest plate. The noise of horns blowing, revving engines, and people shouting around the bend of the alley sounded, but none of t
hem were in earshot even if I could have screamed.
The hand clamped over my face squeezed with a bruising force that allowed me to feel the rough pads of his fingers digging into my jaw. My teeth scraped the back of his calloused fingers and attempted to bite, but the grip was so tight I couldn’t close my mouth.
My feet kicked and scraped against the concrete. The sexy red heels Ansel liked on me were being skinned alive. Sharp kicks and straining attempts to break free from the tight grip around my body were useless.
My family had caught me, and they were going to ensure they killed me this time. Muffled screams scratched my throat and died at the back of the hand around my mouth as I called for Ansel.
The veins in my head and neck protruded from the force of strength I’d used attempting to break myself free. My wide eyes caught a glimpse of the perfect sky as I prayed for Ansel to walk back out of that door before the monster that had me, took me.
“If you don’t let her go, I’m going to paint this dirty alley with your brains.”
It was the voice of the devil, so deadly that the man holding me, froze.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” the voice sounded once more. Ansel was back, and my heart rejoiced at the sound of his voice.
I stumbled down to one knee when the tight grip around me loosened. My knee and hand struck the ground, but in my stunned state, if there was any pain, it didn’t register. My joy at being set free overwhelmed me. I scrambled to my feet, ran on the shaky heels, and hid behind Ansel’s back. In my haste to get away, I’d failed to cast a glance back at the man who’d snatched me.
Ansel held me against his back with one hand and aimed his gun with the other.
“Toss your gun and turn slowly. I haven’t killed anyone in almost three days, and my fucking trigger finger is itching like a motherfucker. Try me, and it’s going to take a miracle for you to be identified.”