Breaking Bad: 14 Tales of Lawless Love

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Breaking Bad: 14 Tales of Lawless Love Page 111

by Koko Brown


  Mama stared at me and though I cared what she said, I also didn't.

  “What person doesn't know how much money was stolen from them?” She asked with a roll of her eyes and tsk of her teeth.

  My head nodded in agreement.

  “Well, it seems you know what you're doing.” She commented.

  “I don't. But, I know you're trying to get an in with the casinos over near Varadero, and if her skills are what she says, this might work out.”

  “Diego, she has six months to live.” The sober woman reminded me.

  “Mama, in her last days, she should be focused on something else besides dying.”

  “Good point, son.” She nodded her head. “Okay, we’ll put her to work. What have you told her?”

  “Nothing, yet. She saw me kill Malvo and those fuckers who were about to rob her but that's all.” I told her honestly.

  “Bueno.” Mama nodded. “Try to keep as much from her as possible. One reason that we withhold our identities is because nobody can get it from us. Having someone affiliated with us compromises that. However, you're a smart son, so I know you realize that.”

  “Aye,” I agreed.

  “I'll meet her tonight then.” Mama said with a slight smile. “I hope she's up for the task because if she's not, you know what that means.”

  She didn’t mean health wise. She meant if Destini murmured a thing or was even felt as being not trust worthy, she’d be killed and not by the failure of her kidney but a bullet through her head and heart.

  “Comprende,” I said with a quick jerk of my head.

  “Good, then its settled.” Mama stood up and patted my face with her soft palm. “You're a good son.”

  I always felt like she did this to guilt trip us. As kids, we fell for it; but now, we just nod our heads in acknowledgment of her words.

  After leaving mama’s place, I went to collect Destini. On the way, I made some calls to get shit prepared for her. She only had six months, and the shit might as well count for something. She was a fighter, no doubt, so I felt like she’d be in for some adventure.

  When I walked into the studio, I saw Curtis and Destini laughing near the bar. Catalina was on the side watching the entire episode, and she was none too happy.

  “What's wrong?” I asked my sister as we stood side by side against the wall.

  “Nothing, just not feeling her.” Catalina replied without taking her eyes off the two.

  My eyes looked to see what she saw, and the only thing I saw was Curtis trying to help Destini relax.

  “Well, she's got six months to live, so keep your feelings to yourself.” I told her and stalked towards the two laughing hyenas.

  “What's so funny?” I asked while approaching the two of them.

  “Nada. Just telling Destini here about the time I tried to lead one of the dances and twisted too hard that I sprung my ankle.” Curtis laughed.

  I nodded my head with a small smirk. That shit was funny.

  “Come,” I told Destini. “Need to sort some shit out.”

  She smiled at Curtis and followed me to the side office on the main floor. Once we were settled and seated, I asked, “What's your plan?”

  She assessed me for a bit and then asked, “I’m not sure there is a plan as long as I stay in Cuba. I need to get in contact with Claire and find out if there are any other matches for my blood type and kidney. I probably need to go back to the States, where my doctors can care for me before I get into any medical trouble.”

  “We have doctors here. You shouldn’t be traveling like you have been. You need to be on dialysis because that shit you got working in that bag of yours is not going to sustain you.”

  “Well, yeah.” She reiterated. “I don't have a fucking plan. I'm running out of options quick.”

  “You seem like someone who has a back up for the backup.” I put it out there.

  Her head tilted to the side as she looked me straight in the eye.

  “You killed the seventeenth backup. As I said, I’m running out of options if I have no donor match.” Her eyes stared at me intensely.

  My head nodded in acknowledgment of her words. She would never let me forget that.

  “Okay, Destini.” I spoke slowly. “Do you want to go back to the States?”

  Oddly enough, she didn't answer right away. Then, her eyes squinted when she asked, “The better question is what are your plans with me? You spared my life twice, and I don't know why. You should have killed me in that hospital, and we both know it. Truth or not. Now, I'm here.” She moved her hand around the room. “You tell me, Diego. What's your plan? It looks like whatever life I have left is because of you.”

  “Well, you did say you would slit my throat.” I reminded her.

  “I'm over that.” The woman shook her curly hair.

  “Just like that?” I asked.

  “You saved me from being raped five ways to Sunday. Yeah, I'm over it.” She tried to laugh it off.

  Yet, I found nothing funny.

  “That was a disgrace.” I sneered. “Embarrassment. No man should treat a woman like that.”

  I was talking more to myself than her.

  “Man, you must live under a rock.” She shook her head.

  We needed to change the subject because I felt my cheeks getting hot with anger, even as I remembered how he said the disgusting words. He was someone that I wanted him to see my face when he died.

  “Aqui,” I slid over a small box that I retrieved from my pocket.

  Destini’s eyebrows rose with concern. “What's this?”

  “It's a key to a house that's for you. A nurse will be there to give you everything you need, including medicine and to make your life comfortable. She’ll do your dialysis. You'll have an itinerary of various things and places that you can attend by calling the number on the sheet. A phone is provided for you and a car service.” Her eyes narrowed, so I kept talking. “You're not a prisoner, but if you get sick and need help, it would be best to have someone else with you. The instructions are at the house. This,” I held up the box, “is your invitation. You have money and can go back to the States or you can experience Cuba in your last months until we hear from Claire. Up to you.”

  Her head shook twice like she didn't believe it.

  “What's the catch? You want the money?” Destini asked like she solved the secret mystery.

  “No, keep your money. I can make that in a day.” I answered.

  “Then, what do you get out of it?” She leaned forward. “There's something in it for you.”

  “Well, no. If you want to help around the studio, mama could use it. She needs a companion more than she thinks. Plus, with your experience with the casinos, maybe you can help her get her foot in the door with the casino business.” I told her. “You don't have to, but being idle with such a short amount of time seems wasteful.”

  Destini sat back.

  “You don't want me to get money by playing at the casinos?” She asked again, her voice slightly elevated.

  “No, the last thing I want is to have to kill another man you've hustled out of money.” I answered.

  “Earned,” she corrected me.

  “Fine, earned.”

  “I don't know about this. It makes no sense. I can come and go as I please, you’re letting me keep my money, and you’re going to give me housing, a nurse, and activities free of charge?” Her head was shaking in disbelief. “I was raised that if it’s too good to be true, then it is.”

  “Destini, I’m telling you – you have my word. You’re no thief, and I’m no liar.” I said in a matter-of-factly tone. “Your decision. Just like it was yours back at the meeting spot. It’s still yours.”

  She abruptly stood up and said, “You say that, but what was I going to do? You say these things are my decisions, but you know damn well all I have to my name is in that bag, nowhere to go, and no kidney to be transplanted. How much choice do I really have?”

  “Then suit yourself.” I followed her le
ad and stood up. “Curtis can make sure you get to where you need to go.”

  Destini’s head reared back, then she nodded it and said, “Fine.”

  Where the fuck was she going to go?

  The crazy woman was right because I knew she didn’t have too many choices left in the world, so in essence, I was giving the illusion of a choice. Granted, she could do what she was doing and calling my bluff; but, if she wanted to leave, then I wouldn’t stop her.

  She left the office and then Curtis’ head appeared in the doorway. He pointed with his thumb behind his back. “She’s catching the first flight back to New York?” He asked.

  “If that is what she wants, si.” I nodded my head approving what he was asking.

  “Diego?” Curtis stepped fully inside. “You sure about this? She ain’t got long?”

  “It’s what she wants,” I confirmed. “I won’t hold her hostage any longer.”

  Curtis sighed because he was in full disagreement, but I wouldn’t go against my word and keep her.

  “Aye,” he murmured and left.

  To say I was settled with her decision, I wasn’t. Why that stubborn ass woman got under my skin was against everything that I wanted to even admit. She hadn’t even met mama yet and that would be a whole other discussion after going to her about the whole notion of taking her under my wing for the six months or so.

  Fuck.

  The dance lessons went by in a blur for me, and even after turning down one of the clients in a rude manner, I headed home. There was no need to inflict my grumpy attitude on others. After turning on some futbol and grabbing a sandwich and a beer was when I finally started to relax. My phone chimed, but I had no idea where it was. After drifting for a bit, I didn’t care.

  An hour later, a knock on my door had me pulling my gun from under the couch and looking at the surveillance screen. It was Curtis.

  “Hey,” I greeted him at the door.

  “We had a bit of a problem.” Curtis ran his hand over his boxed haircut and continued, “Yeah, she… uh, had an episode at the airport.”

  “Wait, what?” I moved to the side to see if she was in the car.

  “She’s lying down right now, but she flipped the fuck out.” My brother from another mother eyes were bulging out of his head as he described what happened. “I thought she was having a seizure as she started to shake uncontrollably. Then, she couldn’t catch her breath, and I couldn’t leave her at the airport like that. No matter what she said. I think she’s ashamed to face you.”

  “Why?” I asked, still looking for signs of her being in the car.

  “Because you’re like a drill sergeant. I know you, and we’ve grown up together. But for someone like her, she don’t know you mean well. It just feels intense, probably.” Curtis explained.

  “I’m not that bad.” I looked back at my brother.

  “You are.” Curtis’ eyes leveled on mine. “You laid down an entire map, itinerary, and schedule for her last days on earth. If that’s not intense, then I’m not sure what is.”

  Fuck.

  When he put it like that, it sounded a bit overbearing.

  “Noted,” I nodded towards Curtis but then went to the car to get Destini.

  “You think this is a good idea?” He called after me.

  “You got a better one?” I retorted as I opened the door to his old blue, Vintage 1965 Ford Mustang car.

  Destini was awake with her eyes glued to me as she laid across the backseat.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Tired.” She replied with those long lashes fluttering closed.

  “Yeah.” I scooped her up and nabbed her bag. “Curtis, get the key off of my desk near the TV for the guest room.”

  It wasn’t actually a room, but a small apartment that I kept in case I had visitors. It was fully furnished, had entertainment, a nice bathroom with a jacuzzi tub, and even a small porch on the front and back, in case they wanted to get fresh air. When I purchased the land a few years ago, I bought both properties because I liked my space, but I also wanted to think for the future.

  Curtis came back with the key just in time as we made it to the house. He unlocked the door, and we walked inside. I took Destini straight to the bedroom, so she could rest. Pulling her long sleeve shirt off, she rested in a bra, and I pulled down her jeans, so she wouldn’t overheat. I nabbed a cold water bottle from the refrigerator and made her take a few sips before Curtis and l left the bedroom.

  “What are you going to do?” Curtis asked me.

  “What else is there to do,” I replied. “I’ll get that nurse in here tomorrow, so she can start figuring out what is exactly wrong. Maybe there are other alternatives or at least other ways to prolong her life. Six fucking months ain’t shit.”

  “I’ll start looking and get back in contact with that nurse too. Uh, Claire.” He headed for the door but then he turned around and said, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

  I nodded my head towards him and sat on the couch after he left. I stayed over just in case she woke and needed something. Time must have moved quickly because the next voice I heard was Destini’s; but, she seemed far away, and the sun was starting to rise from its resting place.

  “You stayed all night?” I looked around and didn’t see her until I turned all the way around facing the door.

  “You leaving?” I rose.

  “I was, but I’m not sure where to go.” She sighed.

  Walking over to her, I grabbed a hold of her bag and put it on the table, and said, “So, stop running.”

  The moment in time that passed between the two of us seemed like it was an eternity, but it was the longest two minutes I’d ever experienced. It took long because for the second time since I’d known her, she was surrendering.

  Total submission and fuck, if I wasn’t happy about that.

  Her head nodded, and I pushed her back to the bedroom.

  “Go take a long shower and I’ll fetch some food for us to eat.” I ushered her towards the bathroom. “Along with some clothes and things you’ll need.”

  “Why are you doing this?” She asked.

  “Lots of reasons.” I smirked. “Go.”

  When I heard the shower turn on, I went to my place to grab the clothes that Catalina gave me for her. The courier brought the breakfast and the other shit I’d have one of my guys get me from the market. Shit a woman would need.

  After setting up everything she needed, I left her to sort it all out and went back to my place, which was a several yards away. A small knock on my door pulled me out of my trance as I was about to go workout before my shower, since the water would need to heat up after Destini’s long one.

  “Hey,” I answered as I put the gun in the back of my jeans.

  “You’re not eating breakfast with me?” she asked with the basket in her hand.

  “Uh, no. I’m about to work out and then shower.” I informed her but was shocked when her face slightly fell.

  “Okay,” she nodded and went to leave.

  “Wait,” I nabbed her arm. “You want to eat breakfast with me?”

  “Well, you were gracious enough to do all of this. It’d be a shame if you couldn’t enjoy it as well.” She said with her head to the side.

  As if she shouldn’t have to explain things like that to me.

  “I see.” I thought about her logic. “That makes sense. So, we’re eating this breakfast?”

  “Yes, we are.” She smiled. “Also, for the record, I can cook. Maybe not Cuban food, but I can burn some American food. I’ll prove it – tonight I’ll make dinner for you.”

  “Burn?” I asked. “I don't want burnt food. I don't like Cajun.”

  For the first time, I’d seen her laugh and it was with me. I felt almost possessive about her, the reaction, and I wanted that to only be with me.

  “No, Senor. Burn means, I know how to cook really well.” She explained. “It's Ebonics.”

  “Aye,” I understood. “I'll guess we’ll
see.”

  We finished eating breakfast, cleaned up, and I went to work out while she went to put her stuff away. After my shower, the plan was to go and meet mama for lunch, take Destini to the studio, and get her acclimated to our world.

  Lunch with mama went better than I thought. Mama wanted to immediately start on the casino project, which Destini signed up for. She also enlisted her help in the studio, offering free lessons.

  They had their set schedule already, and she needed to meet the rest of my brothers. Sebastian was the one after me. Ian was the third son, Catalina was fourth, and Hugo was last. Curtis was the same age as me. He was not our blood brother, but mama raised him like one. There was a hit, and she took the job. The kid had seen her do it, and the first thing out his mouth was, “I'm glad you did it because when I got old enough to get a gun, I was going to kill ’em.”

  Mama said she knew he was a Salazar. Curtis was black, but he was very much our brother. A good dancer but an even better marksman. He always had our back and we had his.

  We were third generation Cubans, but the kids were all taught the American way. Most of us could easily lose our accents because the goal for us was to fit into any environment. We learned from the diplomats to the scum. Whatever we needed to blend into to do our jobs was what we did.

  Catalina was no assassin, but mama was training her in the management of it all. I would take over as the lead, but she would manage the jobs.

  My phone rang, and there was an unknown number listed.

  “Diego,” I announced.

  “Senor Diego, es la nurse…”

  I cut her off.

  “Speak English.” I told the American nurse.

  “Oh thanks. I was about to butcher your precious language.” She laughed.

  “Sure, you're scheduled to come tomorrow at seven to do all of the assessments.” I confirmed.

  “Well, that's what I was calling about. It would be better to have her in the hospital, so we could see everything. Get her blood work and have a faster turnaround time.”

 

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