Jess lowered her head in shame, then looked up. “The guilt. It was wrong, I know that. You’re her father. I know you love her, and you never mistreated her, but—”
“But what?” Eric stood from the bench.
“But I couldn’t have her grow up the way I did. You know my—”
“I know, your old man was in prison, and all he did was disappoint you. But I ain’t your old man.”
“I wasn’t taking any chances. You were gone. I was raising her alone. I wasn’t going to take a chance on that being my life, her life,” Jess said, standing in front of him. “It killed me to do it. To tell my family to lie, to sit in that room and lie myself.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“There’s nothing that can be done.”
Eric grabbed Jess tight by the shoulders. “What do you mean, nothing? You can go back—”
“I can’t. It’s done. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. The steps I took were wrong, but I think the decision was right.”
Eric released Jess, turned his back on her in disgust. “Then why you bring me here?”
“I wanted you to see Maya. And if you want, I want you to continue to see her.”
Eric spun around. “But you had my rights taken.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still her father,” Jess said. “We can start slow, a couple of times a month. You can come by and visit her if you like.”
Eric glared at Jess, hoping he was hiding at least some of the hate he was feeling for her that moment. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“I can understand how you feel, but—”
“No, you can’t! You lied and took my daughter away from me. That didn’t happen to you, so don’t say you know how the fuck I feel.”
“You’re right,” Jess apologized. “But I don’t want you not to see Maya, because you’re mad at me. She didn’t do anything wrong. And I know you won’t have rights, and legally, Quentin will be her father, but you can still be in her life. What do you say, Eric?”
Eric looked across the park and watched his little girl playing on the slide. He had missed over half her life already. He didn’t want to miss any more. “Fine. I’ll see her when you let me.”
“Good,” Jess said, seeming genuinely happy. “But there is one condition.”
“What is that?”
“If you ever get in trouble with the law again, it will be the last time you see Maya.”
95
Late that afternoon, Blac stood outside the building Cutty used to run his drug operations, waiting for the man to finally tell him exactly when he needed to deliver his money to him.
Blac had been ringing Cutty’s cell phone since the moment he had gotten up this morning. The man didn’t answer, so as a last resort, Blac borrowed Theresa’s car and drove down to his spot.
After he knocked on the front door, Blac was met with resistance from two of Cutty’s men that Blac hadn’t seen before. Blac had to convince them he wasn’t leaving till he spoke to Cutty. The men told him to wait and they would see what they could do.
Ten minutes later, Cutty sauntered out, wearing sunglasses, sagging jeans, and holding an unlit blunt between two of his fingers.
“Deadline for my money ain’t till eight o’clock tonight, but obviously you got it early. That’s the reason you standin’ there, right?”
“Look, Cutty,” Blac said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not supposed to have your money for another four days. You said the clock started—”
“You tryin’ to tell me what the fuck I said?” Cutty pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit the tip of the marijuana cigar he was holding. He took a puff, held the smoke in a moment, exhaled, then in a lowered voice said, “The other day you came by here asking for some shit to sell because you knew you weren’t gonna have my money, didn’t you?”
“No, Cutty, I swear—”
“Don’t lie to me, Blac,” Cutty said, pointing at him with the blunt. “You didn’t have my money and you was thinking you could sell enough of my shit in time to pay me what you owe. Problem is, my man Drake picked up on that. He made that comment about you playing me, which is why he got his ass whupped. People hear I’m getting played, same people start to think I’m getting soft, and I can’t have that shit. Folks start thinking they can put a bullet in my head, take my position, just like I did to that pussy Booky Bear. So to send a message, I had to shorten your deadline. I know it’s fucked up, but it don’t matter. New deadline is tonight at eight.”
“Cutty! You can’t do—”
Cutty yanked off his sunglasses, turned his evil eye on Blac, the other drifting off slightly skyward. “You don’t tell me what the fuck I can’t do. Like I said, deadline tonight. Have my money and we square,” Cutty said, drawing smoke from the blunt and holding it in. “Don’t,” he said in a strangled voice. “I’m sorry, but yo’ ass will be made an example of.”
96
The day had been going perfectly until I had gotten the phone call that dragged me out to this bar and had me sitting, waiting for Blac.
Earlier today, I had a late lunch with Sissy at Wishbone, one of my favorite West Loop restaurants, where we discussed more of the wedding plans.
It would be in just three days, and because of that, my sister decided to scale it all the way down to a private function with just our closest friends. “We can have a public affair once we get your shares and make sure Winslow Products is out of the woods.”
“How is company business? Are we still the owners, or have we been taken over?” I said, joking, but not really.
“As long as I’m living, you’d know I’d never allow that, Cobi,” Sissy said with conviction. “P&G is still buying whatever shares it can get its hands on, but I’ve convinced most of our board members not to sell just yet. Don’t worry, we’re still in control.”
“Good. I knew I had nothing to worry about with you in charge,” I said, taking a bite out of one of my buttery corn muffins.
“You seem like you’re in just a wonderful, click-your-heels-together mood today. What’s got you so bright and shiny? I imagine not having to pay off yet another blackmailer.”
“That’s right, and you still have to thank Eric for his part in that.”
“Sure,” Sissy said. “On the day I find out what his part in it actually was. You never know. He could’ve been the one running the scam.”
“Whatever. Just be happy with me right now. It’s a good time. I have you, my brother, and this thing with Austen isn’t necessarily the nuclear bomb I thought it was going to be.”
“Oh,” Sissy said, a smile of surprise on her face. “So you’re liking her now, huh? Who knows. Maybe in five years, you two—”
“Yeah, don’t go that far. But she’s nice, and I do like her,” I said. “And Eric called me an hour ago. I know this means nothing to you, but the mother of his child decided to allow him to see his daughter. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“No. You were right, that means nothing to me,” Sissy said, poking her fork at her catfish.
“You’re going to grow to love him one day,” I said confidently.
Sissy looked up at me with a face as serious as I’ve ever seen on her, and said, “Cobi, understand this. I know he’s your brother, but there is simply something about that man I do not like. He does not deserve to be considered part of this family. I think if you continue to see him that way, he will cause you great harm, and for that reason, I will never, ever grow to love, like, or even tolerate him. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, holding the stupid smile on my face, trying to pretend Sissy wasn’t as serious as she said she was.
After lunch, and for the next six hours, I was receiving phone calls and text messages from Blac at the rate of about a dozen an hour. I avoided them. I didn’t answer the calls or check the voice messages. I simply ignored the texts, until half an hour ago, when he called me six times, back to back to back.
&nbs
p; “Hello!” I answered the phone angrily. “What is it? Why are you calling me like this?”
“I need to see you,” Blac said. He didn’t sound the same. I detected worry, almost fear in his voice.
“Well, if I’m not picking up your calls, or returning your texts, don’t you know that means I’m busy?”
“Cobi, I said I need to see you. I really need to see you, please.”
Sitting at the bar of a small place called Eva’s on South Wabash, I told myself I wasn’t going to wait a minute longer than the time we had agreed upon.
I had told myself that I was going to start distancing myself from Blac because of the situation with the photographs. It was a close call, but thanks to Eric, I had managed to escape it.
If one clown with a camera was able to capture pictures of me with another man, how hard would it be for another? I could no longer expose myself like that. Tyler had been right all along. Maybe I needed to be as paranoid as he was.
I glanced down at my watch and saw that it was eight o’clock on the dot. I pulled a ten-dollar bill from my wallet and was prepared to toss it on the bar to pay for my beer, when Blac walked right up to me and tried to give me a hug and a kiss. I pressed my hands into his chest to keep him back. “What are you doing? Not in here.”
“Fine, then let’s get a room,” Blac said. He looked jittery and scared.
“No. We’re not getting a room.”
“C’mon. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. The best you ever had it.”
“I said no. Now, either sit down so we can talk, or I’m leaving.”
Blac looked left and right, as if he thought someone was after him, then sat down beside me.
“Have a drink,” I said.
“Don’t want a drink, but I need something from you.”
What else could this man want, I thought? I gave him sex and a total of $13,000. What else was there? “What is it, Blac?”
“I need money. Like tonight.”
“How much?” I asked out of curiosity, not because I intended on giving it to him.
“A hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
I smiled, knowing this was a joke. When he didn’t smile with me, I said, “You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not joking. Does it look like I’m joking?” he said, sweat starting to appear on his brow.
He looked like a desperate, frightened man on the verge of doing something stupid. “What in the world do you need money like that for?”
“Don’t have time to explain. I’m in trouble, and I need it, and you’re the only person I can get it from.”
“Then you’re not getting it.”
“Look,” Blac said, grabbing my arm hard. “I told you I’m in trouble. I need this!”
“For what? What did you do?” I said, speaking in a harsh whisper.
“Drugs,” Blac finally admitted. “Drug deal gone wrong, okay!”
“Drugs! And you want me to give you money for drugs? If word got out, do you know the damage that could do to—” I stood up, shaking my head. “No. I’m sorry, but you’re on your own on this one.”
“Sit down, Cobi,” Blac said.
“I told you—”
“I said sit your motherfuckin’ punk ass down,” Blac said, forcefully. “Now listen,” Blac said, digging in his back jeans pocket, pulling out a yellow envelope, and laying it on the counter. “I’m about to make you an offer your ass would be smart not to refuse.”
97
Yesterday, when Blac took that briefcase from Eric and started around that abandoned grocery store to meet the blackmailer, the thought of stealing that half million dollars only crossed his mind once. But it crossed very slowly.
He could’ve taken it, paid Cutty his money, had $350K left, then headed down to Wisconsin and even taken Theresa with him. They could’ve bought a small house or something, lived off the rest for a good little while.
As Blac turned the corner and spotted the blue Ford Fusion, he asked himself, would he have actually been able to get away with it? If Blac did choose to play it that way, Eric would’ve surely told Cobi, and with all the money and resources that Cobi had—not to mention the fact that he was a fucking state’s attorney—Blac would’ve been nabbed and thrown back in Joliet before he crossed the Illinois state line.
So he didn’t steal the money but instead walked up cautiously to the driver’s side of the Ford like he had intended.
The pudgy, balding, bespectacled man had his eyes trained on Blac from the moment he came around the corner. From the driver’s seat of the car, he leaned over and said, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Mr. Winslow sent me. I got the money,” Blac said, hoisting the briefcase up so the man could see.
“Get in the fucking car!”
Blac laughed to himself. The man was trying to act hard, but Blac knew he was scared shitless. He could tell by the bitchy high tone he heard in his voice and by the way the gun the man was pointing at Blac was trembling.
“Easy,” Blac said, opening the door and lowering himself into the passenger seat. “We don’t want nobody gettin’ killed out here.”
“Shut up. Open the case. Let me see what’s inside.”
“You got the pictures?”
“I got the gun,” the man said, pointing it in the direction of Blac’s face. “Open it.”
Blac did what he was told. The man’s eyes lit up at the clean, crisp, neatly stacked bills that filled the briefcase.
“Now close it and hand it to me slowly.”
Again, Blac followed orders, measuring the man’s every movement, knowing his opportunity was about to come.
“Easy,” the man said, reaching with his other hand, while still holding the gun on Blac.
Blac lifted the case, then quickly turned it wide. Using it as a shield, he forced it into the gun, thinking if the man did manage to squeeze off a shot, the case and the bills inside might at least render the bullet nonlethal. But the man did not shoot.
Blac wedged the gun and the man’s hand between the briefcase and the seat. Then with his free fist, Blac struck the man three times hard in the face.
Steven Ballard dropped the gun, his nose squirting blood from the last blow.
Both Blac and Ballard scrambled for the weapon that slipped down between the two front seats, but Blac came up with it and pointed it in between the man’s eyes, a wicked smile on his face.
He took the pictures off the man, as well as his license, and left him with the warning that he would come to his house and kill his family if Cobi was ever threatened again.
The thought hadn’t struck Blac till he was halfway around the building, then it hit him all of a sudden. What if Cobi wasn’t as agreeable as Blac hoped he would be?
Blac dropped to his knees and quickly sifted through the thick envelope of photos. There were pictures of himself with Cobi, and snapshots of another good-looking guy with a thick mustache. Blac took a longer look at the man’s face and figured this had to be the senator Eric told him Cobi was fucking. Blac’s leverage had just gotten stronger, because the photos were juicy as hell, shots he was sure Cobi wouldn’t want to be leaked to the public.
He divided the pictures evenly into two piles, slipped what he would give to Eric back in the envelope and pocketed his.
Now as he sat at the bar with Cobi, he was glad he had thought to give himself this bit of insurance.
Cobi sat there on his stool, shocked, staring down at the photos. He looked up at Blac. “How did you get these?”
“I need that money tonight, or you’ll see those pictures on the Internet and every fucking TV station in this country.”
“I said, how did you get these?” Cobi said, waving the photos in his fist.
“Eric.”
“You’re a liar. Do what you want with the pictures. I won’t be blackmailed. I’m not giving you the money. I don’t care what kind of trouble you’re in,” Cobi said, standing from the stool. “And from now on, stay your ass away fro
m me and my brother. Now that he has me, he no longer needs people like you in his life.” Cobi turned and started away, but Blac ran up, grabbed him by the arm in the middle of the bar, and spun him around.
“Eric don’t care for you like you think he does.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and I’m still not giving you the money,” Cobi said.
“Really?” Blac said, spitefully. “If he did, why is he fuckin’ your fiancée?”
98
It wasn’t true, I told myself as I hysterically burst through the front door of the mansion. I had sped home, telling myself that Blac had made everything up. Eric hadn’t given him those photos, and he definitely wasn’t having sex with Austen, the woman that I was starting to believe could make me appear, at least to the outside world, normal—the woman I was going to marry.
I stumbled onto the second floor, breathing hard, fighting the images that danced through my head. Was it a jealousy of the flesh that enraged me? No. I was gay. I didn’t want Austen like that. It was the principle of the entire matter. I welcomed Eric into my home, accepted him as my brother, found him a job, and how did he repay me? By allowing his criminal friend to jeopardize all that I worked for and fucking Austen in my house?
No! It cannot be true, I thought, mere steps from Eric’s door. I threw the door open to find his room empty.
I felt foolish. I had allowed Blac to manipulate me into believing things that I should’ve known could’ve never been true. Eric was my brother, and although we’ve been apart all our lives, he wasn’t the kind of man to—
I froze when I heard a groan coming from Austen’s room.
I spun around, raced down to her door, pushed it open, disgusted at what I saw. Austen was in bed, naked, on her back, her legs hiked in the air, my brother, holding himself above her, pushing himself into her, both of them, sweating, thrusting, moaning so loudly, and so lost in themselves, they must not have heard the noise I made entering the house and must not have noticed me standing in the room with them.
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