Crazy Kind of Love

by T. Styles

  “What about the Escalade we’re driving? Don’t you think we should ditch it?”

  “You talking about the same Escalade you asked to drive while blasting that terrible ass singer Abel’s music?”

  “Her name is Adele and she’s not terrible,” Lourdes retorted. “And yes I wanted to drive the truck because I’ve never rode in a vehicle so beautiful. But all of that aside, I’m worried about your gunplay. If you aren’t careful, I’m afraid something will happen to you.”

  “I’m going to be fine. Besides, them niggas disrespected your queendom by calling you a bitch and that’s why I took shit to that level.”

  “Queendom,” Lourdes responded. “I never had a dude refer to me as a queen before.” She then asked in a small voice, “Preacher, where do we go from here? I mean, what are we doing together?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

  My original plan was just to escape to Texas with her where no one knew me but after learning she had more than a little bit of drama, and that she wanted to see Feather before we left, I was stuck.

  When my phone rang I answered. “Hello! Hello!” said a familiar man’s voice on the other end of the phone. I had forgotten that I had dialed Tanya’s number.

  “Yo, who is this?” I asked.

  “Nigga, this Steve. We was just busting at each other the day when you murked my mans and them.”

  “Steve!” I shouted into the phone standing up causing Lourdes to jump up. “Fuck is you doing there? Where is Tanya at? Put my daughter on the phone!”

  “Nigga, you know Tanya is my bitch now but currently she and your daughter are all tied up they can’t come to the phone and I mean that shit literally. They have been that way for days as punishment. What took you so long to call?”

  I raged, “Nigga if you touch a hair on my baby’s head I’ll-.”

  “You’ll do what? You better get that money up nigga! You know how this shit goes.”

  I lowered my voice as Lourdes sat on the bed holding her knees close to her bare breasts. The ugly gash on her arm looked worse.

  “You can’t be serious.” I was furious but the threat of death, my daughter’s death, made me attempt to suppress my anger. “When your daughter was abducted, I was there for you. I went to war for you-“

  “Fuck, nigga, you keep bringing that old shit up. This is a new day and time I’m playing by goon rules; this shit ain’t based on sympathy, nigga! Here, I want you to speak to somebody.”

  I heard the sound of footsteps on a wooden floor, then a voice that made my soul quiver. “Daddy? Daddy?” My baby cried hysterically into the phone.

  “Baby girl, it’s going to be okay. I’m coming to get you, alright.”

  “Daddy they raped me, hurt me…it hurt so bad…please come get me,” she cried.

  Instantly my eyes began to well with tears as Lourdes looked at me. I heard a tussle and what sounded like a slap, my daughter cried out in pain.

  Steve got back on the phone. “Nigga, you raped my daughter,” I growled into the phone.

  “Yeah, we fucking raped her little ass, nigga, and you lucky she still breathing. You got two days to get that money up nigga. Try me if you want to.”

  Click!

  The phone went dead. I tried to call back but my hands were shaking so bad I could hardly dial the number. The call finally went through. The phone was turned off.

  I sat next to Lourdes and she wiped the tears from my cheek. I didn’t realize I was crying. She was too. “Someone hurt your daughter?”

  I nodded yes. “I got two days to get back to Baltimore or…” I choked up.

  “Or?” Lourdes asked concerned.

  “Or…they are going to kill my little girl.”

  “For what?” Lourdes screeched.

  “For money…bloody money.” I blurted out with my mind in a daze never in my life had I experienced such anguish, right down to my gut. I wanted to roll into a big ball and die, but I knew I wouldn’t be the only one dying.

  Then there was a sharp rap on the hotel door that made Lourdes flinch.

  Trouble had come knocking again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LOURDES

  When I heard a knock at the hotel room’s door I hopped up and rushed over to answer it. Once there, I stood on my tiptoes to see who was on the other side. I felt frozen in fear the moment I saw the man’s face. Although I didn’t remember his name I recognized him as one of Holliday’s goons. Immediately I knew what was happening. He was coming to kidnap me but how did he know I was there?

  I turned around slowly and looked at Preacher who was lying on the bed looking in my direction. I realized everything depended on this moment. If I told him that Holliday’s goon was at the door, he was going to feel obligated to help me and he could possibly get hurt. And with what was happening to his daughter, he needed a clear mind.

  It was settled. He had done so much for me already that I didn’t want him involved anymore. They came there for me, not him and I needed to do this on my own.

  “Who’s at the door, baby?” Preacher asked as he sat up in the bed. “And why you over there looking scared?” He got out of the bed and strolled toward me. “You okay?”

  Think quickly, Lourdes. I bit my bottom lip and began to play with my fingers. I swallowed the dryness in my throat and tried to come up with a good lie even though I was horrible at it.

  Preacher was in my breathing space now and that was when I threw a fake smile on my face. It’s crooked and looks dumb. I knew because my mouth felt funny on one side. Please God, let this work.

  Right before he approached the door to see who was on the other side I said, “It’s the delivery man with the food.” I walked in front of him, blocking his path to the door. “So go get cleaned up. I’ll pay him.”

  “When you order food?” he asked suspiciously. His eyebrows rose and he scanned my face as if he were reading the Sunday paper.

  “You were sleep, I think,” I lied as the blood coursed through my body, making me feel like a volcano about to erupt. “Just go—”

  Another loud bang rung out on the door and stopped my statement. “Move, Lourdes.” He tried to push me out of the way of the door but my feet remained planted.

  “Baby, it’s the food I got—”

  He shoved me out of the way and peered through the peephole. He was there for a second before he turned his gaze toward me. Worried things were about to escalate because I lied; I looked down at my toes and wiggled them. I hadn’t gotten them done. Maybe I would make an appointment if I didn’t get killed. Or maybe—

  “Lourdes, who is that?” he asked breaking me out of my dumb thoughts.

  “Who’s who, baby?”

  “Who is the nigga at the door?”

  He tried to open it but I slapped at his hand. “It’s the delivery man, baby. I told you I ordered food for us.”

  He stepped around me and stared out of the peephole again. Disappointment covered his face. “Where’s the bag of food?”

  “What?” I responded in a dumb tone.

  “If he’s bringing food where is the bag, Lourdes?”

  I didn’t respond. My voice was trapped in my chest.

  “You know him, don’t you?” He asked.

  How did he know? Was the guy holding a, “I’M HERE TO KILL LOURDES” sign?

  Defeated, I decided to tell him the truth. “I know him. I think he’s here to—”

  “You used to fuck him, didn’t you?” He asked cutting me off. He looked hurt and I knew even more that he cared about me. “I can’t believe I played myself. Here I was falling for you and now this.”

  I finally got it. He thought I knew this man in a sexual way and now I had a way to save his life. And although I wanted to tell him that he was a killer and not a former lover, it was more important to me that he survived. I was falling in love with Preacher in a way that I never knew was possible. So I had to save his life like he did mine.

  “You caught me, Preacher,” I
said with a weak smile. “Me and the dude on the other side of the door had a thing going on a while ago.”

  “So he was a client,” he said as his jaw twitched.

  “Yes.”

  My stomach rumbled loudly. I always knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this man and now I realized how our story would end. In death.

  “I should’ve known you couldn’t be trusted,” he looked me up and down as if I was despicable. The way he did when he first met me.

  “Can we talk about it after I get rid of him?” I begged. “Please?”

  He scanned the closed door and ambled toward the bathroom without another word. I took a deep breath, grabbed the ice bucket off of the counter, and prepared to go see my mama in heaven.

  The moment I opened the door and walked out of it, the door slammed behind me and locked. Within seconds, I was whisked up by my underarms by two men and the bucket fell out of my hand. I thought the goon was alone.

  “Why you close the door?” One of the men asked angrily. “Huh?”

  The first man was very dark and had a knotty mustache and beard. He smelled like cigarettes and alcohol and my nerves were so bad, I was tempted to ask if he had an extra jack.

  The other guy was a little shorter with light skin, and he had a thick red bush. They both looked like killers.

  They forcefully rushed me toward the exit. I didn’t bother asking who they were and what they wanted with me because I already knew. Plus I wanted to make as little noise as possible so that Preacher wouldn’t hear what was going on and try to help me.

  Once we were outside, I was thrown into the backseat of a burgundy Caprice and the light skin dude slid inside and sat next to me. He jabbed a big gray gun into my waist and it stung a little. The other guy climbed into the driver’s seat, and looked back at me.

  “You look bad, Des,” the dark skin man said shaking his head slowly. “You were always pretty to be a whore but you look like you’ve been in a boxing match. What you doing, letting that nigga you rolling with beat you?”

  “I…I don’t know what nigga you—”

  “Bitch, stop playing with me,” he yelled and splashes of spit dropped on my upper lip. “I don’t have time for these fucking games with you! Now Holliday wants that nigga and we need to know if he’s in the room. So answer my question!”

  “You have me so just take me to Holliday.”

  “We aren’t leaving here without him.”

  I knew now why they were angry that I closed the hotel door behind me. They were hoping to catch Preacher and me off guard and grab us both. They were probably afraid of him too. Why else were they bothering me instead of rushing inside of the room to go get him? Maybe they heard he was crazy with the guns and were intimidated.

  I looked at the lighter complexion man who wasn’t talking and then back at the one in charge. I wiped the sweat off my upper lip and said, “I really don’t know what nigga you guys are talking about. I was in the room—”

  My statement was chopped off when my head was forced backwards by a blow to the jaw from the dark skin goon in the front seat. Instead of giving me a few moments to get myself together he grabbed me by the chin, jerked my face forward and stared into my eyes. Even his pupils were scary.

  “I don’t want to kill you but I will,” he said slowly. “Now I know you were with him because Holliday said you were. Now either you’re going to stop playing games with me or I’m going to hurt you. Badly. And trust me, if you think you can take being tortured, think again. Because you have no idea what it means to be in real pain. Now where is the nigga you roll with? Is he in the room or not?”

  Tears fell down my face just thinking about what he was saying. I didn’t want to be in pain; I didn’t even want to be there. I wasn’t built for this type of life. I was just a whore who made money by pleasing men and making them feel good. Did I say already that I didn’t want to be there? I wanted to be in the room, under Preacher, with his body against mine. Maybe if I told them where he was they wouldn’t hurt him that badly and we could get out of this together. Yeah, I was going to tell them he was in the room. Everything would be okay. I was sure.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I said, unable to save my own self. Damn, I cared about Preacher more than I realized.

  Suddenly the dark skin dude punched me in the stomach so many times that blood flew out of my mouth and sprayed all over the back of the seat, his face, and the windows. I felt air rushing out of my body. I was so scared my teeth rattled.

  The dark skin man grabbed my face again and squeezed so hard his fingers touched through my cheeks. “Lourdes, you a whore,” he said in a kind voice. “You ain’t a soldier.” He smiled and I finally saw that he only had two teeth. “Don’t let that nigga get you killed. Now is he in the room or not?”

  The light skin one said, “Just answer him, Lourdes. Before he—”

  His statement was cut short by a smack to the lips from the dark skin man. “Did I tell you to talk?” he pointed his meaty, long finger into his face. “Did I tell you to open your fucking mouth? You my sidekick and sidekicks don’t talk, nigga.”

  “Sorry, boss,” he said softly with his gun still aimed in my waist.

  “Lourdes,” the dark skin one said focusing his attention back on me. “Where’s the nigga? I promise I won’t kill him. I just want to have a few words with him that’s all.”

  Maybe I was tripping, or maybe I was just in major pain, but suddenly I thought I saw hail falling down on the windshield. Considering it was summer, I didn’t understand how that was possible.

  “What the fuck?” the dark skin dude said turning around to look at the front window. “What the fuck is going on?”

  My eyes widened when I saw Preacher drop onto the hood of the car. Since he was on the second floor of the hotel, I was thrown off. Did he just jump out of the window upstairs?

  He looked through the window and winked at me. Since I was focused on him, I saw him move his lips and say, “Duck.”

  I immediately bent down and placed my head in my lap. Seconds later I heard glass shattering. When I looked to my right, I saw the dark skin dude’s head opened up like a piñata, and his brains splattered everywhere. The car looked like a gory scene from the movie Pulp Fiction.

  The light skin dude was about to shoot Preacher until I shoved his shoulders forward so that the bullets shot into the roof instead. This gave Preacher enough time to shoot him instead and open his chest cavity, exposing his ribs. With both of them dead, Preacher slid off of the car, snatched the door open and pulled the dead body to the ground so that I could get out. He helped me out and I stepped over the corpse.

  I rushed into his arms. “Preacher, how did you…how did you know I was down here?” I asked shivering.

  “Something didn’t feel right, so I looked out the window,” he said. “Oh my God, Lourdes,” he said tucking the gun under his arm. He took my face into his hands and I could smell gunpowder. “Baby, why did you lie and say he was a client? You should’ve told me that these niggas were about to kidnap you. I could’ve helped you a long time ago.” He examined me. “Now look at your face.” He embraced me and fragments of glass from the window that were stuck to my body dug into my skin, but I didn’t care. The pain was worth it.

  When he separated from me I said, “Because I didn’t want you hurt. This is my problem not yours.”

  Then he gave me a look that caused my heart to skip a few beats. In a deep throaty voice he said, “I’m sick of these niggas. Take me to where this dude Holliday rests his head. I’m gonna deal with this shit once and for all.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  PREACHER

  I drove with the big SUV’s windows down, the hot Texas air swirling around the vehicle in the sweltering heat. I needed to think, to plot my next move. There are approximately twenty six million people in Texas, but I was looking for just one dude. My intent was to kill Morgan in the most despicable way possibly and hightail it out of Texas back to B-M
ore with the quickness to rescue my little girl from the insidious hands of Steve and possibly her mother. Greed is a terrible thing.

  I would make a pit stop at Morgan’s home in the suburbs of Houston. I couldn’t risk leaving unfinished business behind. When Lourdes told me those men I murked back at the hotel were looking for me too, I knew from the laws of the street if I didn’t kill Morgan when I had the element of surprise on my side, he would kill me just for sport and continue to hunt Lourdes to stop her from testifying.

  “Why don’t you just leave and let me handle this,” Lourdes pleaded. There were splashes of blood on her clothes. Her long hair blew in the wind as we sped down the highway. I stopped past a store to get her some sweatpants and a t-shirt so she was dressed much more modestly than she had been.

  “Because this has to stop! He has to be stopped. You can’t go on living like this and I damn sure won’t either.”

  “I really am sorry for everything back there. I wanted to protect you.”

  “So you were willing to die?”

  She remained silent. “I wanted you to be safe.”

  “And I told you I’m a man and I can handle myself.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. There was a new scar on the bridge of her nose and her lip was bruised. I saw tears in her eyes as she looked at me.

  She gave me a subtle shrug and hung her head as her hair continued to swirl in the wind. She fumbled with her hands in her lap. “I hated my life before you came into it, Preacher. So when the men came I decided to—”

  “Let them kill you?” I asked gripping the steering wheel tighter looking straight ahead.

  “I don’t know… but I wasn’t going to let them kill you.”

  I swallowed the dry lump in my throat as hot air continued to swoosh around the vehicle. The GPS gave a command for us to turn at the next intersection. Lost for words I let my heart speak for me, “Lourdes, this is crazy… I don’t know what’s going on with us but the feelings you’re having for me, I feel the same for you.”