by Autumn Sand
As he carries me into his building and his doorman and fellow occupants stare at us, I’m ready to scream at him to say something. Once inside of his loft, I’m positive he’ll start yelling, but again he surprises me without saying a word. Laying me down gently on the bed, his eyes rake over my body. Normally, I would think it’s because he’s turned on, but I can tell he’s making sure I’m okay.
As he runs his hands back and forth over the top his head, I can see he’s fighting for control. At the bar, he pours two drinks. Placing mine on the table next to the bed, he pulls up a chair and sits next to me, just staring at me. It’s unnerving. Does he want me to talk first? Why does this not give me comfort?
“Dante?”
He does a double take at the sound of my voice. “I need you to understand that it’s taking everything in me not to set this city on fire.”
“I know, honey. I’m okay.”
I think I just chose the wrong words. “You’re okay?” Standing abruptly, he grabs a mirror and brings it back to the bed for me to see my reflection. Shit. My cheek is bruised and my forehead has the beginnings of a knot. “Tell me, from the beginning, what the fuck happened.”
How do I explain to him about Wheeler? If I tell him what Wheeler said and did, he’ll most definitely set this city on fire. But I don’t have a choice. Lelia’s safety is at stake. “Wheeler.” That’s all I have to say, and understanding, then rage, flashes across his face. Throwing his glass across the room, it shatters when it hits the wall. Frightened, I let out a yelp. His outburst reminds me of my ex-husband just before he would hit me. Spinning around, he must see the fear in my eyes, and pain flickers across his face.
“Cyma, I would never…” He pauses, his head facing at the ground. Fighting for control, I guess. “Do you need anything? Doctor? Anything?” Our eyes meet and I shake my head. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Call my cell if you need me.” He turns and leaves me alone in the loft. What the hell just happened?
Chapter 20
Local God ~ Everclear
Tick
After seeing my woman in that condition it took every ounce of strength I had not to kill every motherfucker in the club. Doesn’t mean it still can’t happen. I’ve called Tony about the situation. He told me to handle it at my discretion. Manny and Magnum are on their way to the strip club to meet me. The club will have to shut down for the evening—not by choice, of course. Jay and Wheeler are underground already. But it’s only a matter of time. That fucker will have to resurface. El Diablo backing him or not, that motherfucker is a dead man.
Bringing my car to a screeching stop in front of the club, I open up my door to the smell of burning rubber. No bouncers at the front door, Magnum and Manny must be in the house. The usually dimly lit club is now shining bright with lights, and I find my two friends holding a captive audience of the club manager and bouncers.
“Good of you to show up to the party,” Manny says with his cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. “Fuckface seems to have a lot to say.” He taps the barrel of his gun on Peter’s head.
“Is that so?” I say as I pull up a seat in front of Peter. “Care to share your story with me?”
Peter begins to cry. I mean actually boohooing like a fucking girl. Fuck, did he just…? Yeah, he did. He pissed in his pants. Never did like this guy. Always felt he was trying to get in my girl’s pants. No way would she want this fucker. “I, ugh… I, ugh.” He cries some more. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Please don’t hurt me.” Manny mocks him and taps him on the head with the barrel of his gun after each word for emphasis.
“Peter? Right? We won’t kill you if you tell us the truth. Lie to us, and you leave here in a body bag. You got me?”
He nods his head vehemently. “Wheeler called in a favor from me. He needed some alone time with Cyma. Fuck, man, what was I supposed to do? I’m fifty large in the hole with him.” He blinks rapidly because of the smoke rings Manny is blowing in his face. “I didn’t think anything of it. It seemed harmless. Besides, he’s rolling with El Diablo’s crew now. Couldn’t hurt to be in El Diablo’s good favor.”
The mention of El Diablo has our attention. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Peter, cringes and tries to disappear in his chair. Shit is fucking comical, if you ask me. “El Diablo?”
“What the fuck do you know about Wheeler and El Diablo?” Manny asks.
“Nothing. I swear! Nothing!”
A snarl escapes my lips as I’m about to stand. Peter’s eyes widen in terror as he holds his hands up in anticipation for a punch being thrown at him. “He mentioned a few weeks ago that he and Jay had something cooking with El Diablo. He didn’t really go into any details about it. Mentioned that he might be throwing a party in a month or so for El Diablo’s crew, but he had to finish his business with Tony.”
I turn to Manny and he nods his head that he believes the fucker. Magnum gives me the same nod of approval as well. Tony is going to have a field day with this update. Hmm, Jay and Wheeler planned on making their big move soon, but now we have the jump on them. Pointing my thumb at the other fucker… what was his name? Oh, right, Sonny. “What’s his story?” I ask no one in particular.
“His story pretty much matches. Said he got a call from Peter to come and help him. When he got to the office, Peter changed his mind. Said he had to take a leak, and when he got back, your woman was already hurt.”
I take a hard look at Sonny. He doesn’t flinch from my stare as most would. He definitely isn’t pissing in his pants. “That all you got to report?” I ask Sonny.
“Yeah. Listen, I like Cyma. Known her since before she had her daughter. She’s a good person. I would never fuck her over. Wheeler used to come here a lot back in the day when Ignacio was still alive. He always had a thing for her, but nothing that would make me think he would have done that to her.”
I appraise him quickly. Then turn my attention to Manny. “Take this sack of shit out of here and handle him.” I point to Peter.
“No, no. You said if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“No, I said you wouldn’t die if you told me the truth. You’re not going to die, so I’m keeping my word. But you’ll be in a full body cast for a few months.” I nod my head to Manny as he grabs Peter by the collar, yanking him up. The man falls to the ground, groveling at my feet.
Manny, Magnum, and I speak without words. I nod my head in understanding and stand to make a phone call to Tony in private.
****
Stepping into my loft in the early hours of the next morning, I try not to wake Cyma. I open my front door as quietly as possible. Soon as I lock the door, I see that she’s not sleeping. In fact, she doesn’t seem to have slept at all.
“Did you get any sleep?” I ask her from my kitchen area as I make myself a cup of coffee.
“No. Did you?” She remains in her same spot. That isn’t a good sign at all. I pull out a second cup for her.
“No. I was working.” I let the silence fall between us. I’m still upset that she would think that I would hurt her in any way. I don’t want to exhibit any anger and scare her again.
“Sonny called me when your thugs let him go. He said you beat up Peter.” Her tone is accusatory. I was expecting a lot of things, but not that tone and not for a man who put her in danger.
Thugs? Did she call me a thug? I did this for her! Turning to face her, I place both hands on the counter. “I’m a thug? I did this to protect you.”
“Protect me? Protect me how? By leaving me here by myself?”
What the fuck? “No, it’s called protecting the person you love! No one, and I mean no one, fucks with you.”
Her mouth is agape as we stare at each other. Our heavy breathing the only sounds in the loft. Shaking her head, she turns to a chair, holding onto the back of it for support. My woman looks worn-out.
With her back to me, she asks, “Is Wheeler alive?”
Now it is my turn t
o away. I swallow deeply and let out a loud exhale. “He went into hiding.”
She closes her eyes and takes a few short breaths. “I can’t have this around my daughter.”
“What? Have what around your daughter?”
She trembles as the words come out of her mouth. “This! All of this! I can’t have her around you and your thug friends.”
What the hell is she talking about? “Last time I checked, you brought Wheeler into her life, not me! I’m just trying to correct your fucking mess!” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. She flinches as if I’d slapped her. Going around the kitchen counter, I take a step closer to her, but she holds out her hand to stop me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I… Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Never mind.” She turns and goes into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later fully dressed. “I need some space. Gotta figure things out.” I try to take a step, but she holds her hands up again and shakes her head. I feel as if I have been gutted with a knife. Respecting her wishes, I don’t make a move toward her as I watch her walk out of my life for a second time.
Chapter 21
Suicide ~ R. Kelly
Tick
The past few weeks have been fucking hell without Cyma. My notorious temper is even worse without her, and Tony has given me some time off work to get my shit together. Magnum and Manny are both on edge around me and have had to break up a few fights I’ve started with various people. As if Cyma walking out of my life wasn’t already hard, I have respected her wishes and not gone to the hospital to see Lelia. I fucking miss that kid. Cyma and Lelia have become such an important part of my life, I am having a hard time adjusting without them.
I order yet another drink at the bar at Pulse. If I was a regular patron, I would’ve been cut off a while ago. But Tony hasn’t given the bartender the signal yet and has Manny and Magnum with me to make sure I don’t get out of control. I grab my replenished drink and slam it back quickly.
Someone pushes into me by accident. The guy apologizes as I glower at him, but his apology falls on deaf ears tonight. I grab him by the collar and pull him up to my face. Manny quickly tries to intervene, but I push him away with my free hand and then draw my hand into a fist, getting ready to pummel the now-terrified man to the ground.
“Tick!” I hear Tallie’s voice from behind. I don’t bother to acknowledge her as a snarl escapes my mouth and the man begins to shake. “Tick, put him down. Now.” Something in her tone makes me release him. He takes the opportunity to run away without so much as a backward glance.
I raise my hand to the bartender for another drink. “I think you’ve had enough. Let me take you home.” Tallie grabs my hand and places it back on the bar.
Home? I close my eyes as the pain of going to my loft alone grips me. I feel Tallie’s hand on my bicep and pull me toward her. My feet drag as I feel the bass of the music vibrate through my body. Outside, she hails us a cab and prattles off my address to the cab driver. She says my address so freely, as if it were her own.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to my building. She pays for the cab and helps me out of the car. The effects of the alcohol have taken control over me. I’m finding it difficult to walk a straight line as she holds my hand and guides me inside my building. My doorman stands to the side, holding the door for us, and I give him a lopsided grin.
We step off the elevator and stumble-walk to my door. She leans me against the wall as she searches my pockets for my keys, finding something else instead. She stares into my eyes, and for a moment, I just want to forget the gaping hole that Cyma has left.
I pull Tallie into me and I kiss her. She hesitates at first, but quickly responds. I reach into my pocket and locate my keys without breaking our kiss. Her body is pressed up against mine, and my erection hits her stomach. Alcohol has gone from my head and straight to Second Tick. I fumble with getting the locks unlocked as quickly as possible as Tallie and I both stumble into my apartment.
She moans in my mouth as she gropes for my belt buckle. And something happens. Her taste is not Cyma, and she doesn’t feel anything like Cyma. Tallie in my arms doesn’t feel right. She isn’t what I need or want. I had what I needed and lost it. I pull away and wipe my mouth absentmindedly. She stares at me with her mouth agape.
“What’s wrong, lover?” Her brows furrow in question.
Second Tick has already retreated and left my dumb ass here to explain this shit. Way to go Second Tick. Way to leave a brotha hanging. “Tals, I, ugh… listen, it’s not you, it’s me.”
“What? What’s wrong with you?” Her hands are now on her hips as her eyes turn to slits.
“I can’t go through with this.”
“You can’t fuck me because of her?”
“Yeah.”
I feel the burning sensation on my cheek from the impact of her slap. Guess I should’ve seen that one coming. “Fuck you, Tick!”
Lowering the hand that was holding my stinging cheek, I quirk my eyebrow. “Tals, we never promised each other anything.”
She throws her head back in laughter. “You just don’t get it, do you? I wanted you, Tick. I waited for you all this time. I thought, if I gave you what you wanted, you would eventually come to me. Not her. Me!”
I shake my head, trying to get the last of the alcohol buzz out of my brain. “Tals, I fucked up. Never thought you were taking shit serious.”
“Yeah, you fucked up because you’re a fuck up.” She turns around and heads to the door. “Whatever, Tick. I’m over it.” She opens the door and leaves. What the fuck is going on with me? She is the second woman to walk out on me in a few short weeks. If this shit keeps up, I might get a complex or something.
I plop down on my couch with a thud. Holding my head, I try to concentrate. I almost fucked up by having sex with Tals. Way to go, asshole! I was about to use her just to get missing Cyma out of my system. I have to get out of here. I grab my phone and call the airline to book a ticket, and then I call my parents. I’m going home for a much needed vacation before I self-destruct.
****
Waking up in my old bedroom is strange. My parents haven’t changed a thing. Wandering around the room, I pick various knickknacks from my past up and sit them back down. A trophy here and there, pictures of me and my friends, some of me and Kayla. My parents were shocked last night when I told them I was coming home for a few days, but they were happy. I have gotten better with calling them since my last visit. Hearing a soft knock on my door, I call out for the person to enter.
My mother comes in carrying a tray of food. She places it on my desk before giving me a hug.
“How do you feel?”
I scratch my beard, which I haven’t bothered to shave since Cyma left. “Guess I could be better.”
She smiles and takes a seat on my bed, patting the empty spot next to her. I sit and suddenly feel like a ten-year-old. “What happened with you and Cyma?”
My eyes widen and my mouth is agape. “How did you know?” Every time we spoke on the phone, I made a point to not bring up Cyma. To bring her up would mean I would have to explain the breakup. And that would mean I would have to deal with the emotional shit I’m not built for.
“You acted the exact same way when Kayla broke up with you that time you beat up the Harrison boy for asking her out. Of course, it was minus the part of you getting drunk.” She smiles at me warmly.
“I forgot about that.” I shake my head at the memory. Kayla broke up with me for two miserable weeks for my temper. Swore to her and myself I would never fuck up again and lose her.
She smiles and kisses my cheek. “Tell me about what happened.”
Fuck, this is what I’ve been trying to avoid. “Cyma feels that my priorities doesn’t align with the wellbeing of her and her daughter.” I purposely leave out some major details that my mother just wouldn’t understand. But, in a whole, that is what happened.
Rubbing my back, she says, “Well she couldn’t be more wrong. Since you met her an
d her daughter, I’ve heard the change in you every time we speak on the phone. She and her daughter have become your world. ”
She couldn’t be more right. But I do wonder if she would still say this if she knew all of the details. “Thanks mom, but it’s complicated.”
“Complicated? How?”
I inhale and stand. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, I have time.” She folds her arms across her chest.
Should I tell her the truth? The truth of what I have become since Kayla’s death? Would my mother still look at me as her little boy or as a stranger? I stare out of my window, hoping for the right answer to come to me.
I turn around to face her, my decision made. “Think we will need dad to sit in on this.”
She tilts her head to the side and then nods. Rising, she goes to my bedroom door and calls for my father to come upstairs. I wait anxiously as my father slowly climbs up the steps and comes into my room. They both sit on my bed and wait for me to begin.
I could be hanging myself but I think it’s time they know the truth of who I am and the past that comes with it. I open my mouth to begin, internally bracing for whatever fallout that could happen.
I tell my parents about everything. My dealings with Tony and the crew. The blood I have on my hands. How Cyma earns a living at the strip club and what happened with Wheeler. I leave no stone unturned in my truths. They not once interrupted me. My mother’s eyes, who I thought would take it the hardest since I don’t live up to her ideal of a good man, show pity not anger. I concluded with why Cyma left me and how I ended up here telling this story.
My father rose first and pulled me into his arms for hug. “Thank you.”
I pull away, my head jerking up. “What?”
“For finally letting us in. I’m not going to say I am proud of the things you did. Because I am not. But I do think you did what you felt was the right thing to do in protecting the ones you love. “
“I agree with your father.” My mother, who has been silent up until now, stands beside my father.