If You Don't Know Me

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If You Don't Know Me Page 15

by Mary B. Morrison


  “Not even in your dreams,” she said as if she’d read my mind. “Glad you made it. We might as well get straight to it then, Sindy,” Charles said. “Everyone follow me.”

  Sindy stepped behind Charles and in front of me. The way that red dress hugged her booty, I wanted to be the spandex kissing her ass. I got closer. She stopped and my dick was on her back. I got instant wood. Sindy turned around and landed a slap to my jaw. That felt good. I hoped she’d do it again.

  “Get in front of me,” she demanded.

  “You were the one that stopped. Not me.” I stood still to let her keep her place in line. The two bodyguards that were at the top of those stairs were now behind my brother.

  “Move it, Granville,” one of them said with bass in his voice.

  Charles didn’t look over his shoulder. “Touch my daughter again and I’ll personally kill you.” He barely raised his crackly voice.

  If he was as weak as his voice, all I had to do was step out of the way of old dude’s punch and watch him fall, then cry, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

  I started laughing, then stopped. The word “cry” made me think about my son. I became sad.

  Charles said, “Have a seat on the sofa.”

  Which one? The size of the room was ridiculous. Who needed three couches? One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six oversize fancy high-backed cushioned chairs were gathered in pairs at separate glass-top tables. Now the pool table, that bitch was sweet. Drooling, I picked up a stick. Pretended I was a professional. “Rack ’em, boys.” I could earn that two million honestly and live this way the rest of my life.

  Charles nodded to one of his security guys. He walked toward me, picked up a stick, then handed it to the old dude. Sindy got one.

  “Let’s do this.” I tossed Beaux one.

  Charles gestured toward the flat screen attached to the wall. One of his guards turned it on. The picture was incredible. I stared at the news reporter. “That shit looks 3D.”

  “It’s 4K,” Charles said.

  Four who? What’s that? I hadn’t been locked up that long. When did those come out?

  “Let’s team up to make this interesting. I got Granville,” Charles said. “Put your stick down for a minute and sit next to me. We’ll shoot around in a minute.” Dude coughed then told my brother, “You can sit wherever you’d like. You got Sindy.”

  My eyes widened. Pouting like a kid, I thought, I want her! Beaux could have old dude. “Bro, sit by my side,” I said.

  “Not so close to Granville,” Charles said. “Right there is fine, Beaux. This won’t take long.”

  “Daddy, don’t do this,” Sindy said then sat between Beaux and me. “I’ll do it.”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  Beaux moved to a nearby chair. Good. I didn’t want to share Sindy.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know,” she said.

  “Know what?” I asked.

  Her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t look sad. She squinted, then rolled her eyes. I wanted to move and at the same time not. I hadn’t done anything to her for her to hate me. She leaned forward and stared at her father.

  “Sindy, until you marry the billionaire in Dubai who has bought you, I’m proceeding with my plan.” He spoke to me. “Granville, I want you to do as I’ve told you. Take care of Chicago.”

  Frowning, I focused on the television.

  “My brother is no killer,” Beaux said.

  “Fine, then you do it and I’ll give you the two million. I don’t care which one of you pulls the trigger but my life depends on getting this done.”

  “Ain’t nobody gon’ kill you over no pussy,” I said.

  Slap! Ol’ girl hit me again. I told her, “You sho’ is ugly,” hoping she’d hit me harder.

  “Granville,” the old man said.

  “What?” I asked turning to him. Couldn’t he see I was busy?

  Charles coughed in my face.

  “Dude, I don’t care how much money you got. Cough on me again and see what happens,” I told him.

  Beaux stood. Soon as he took one step toward that old arrogant dude, those two bodyguards blocked him. Standing shoulder to shoulder they put their hands inside their jackets.

  “What the fuck? Turn that up,” I said pointing at the TV. “Why my picture on there?”

  Charles smiled, then nodded upward. One of his bodyguards increased the volume.

  I listened to that news broad say, “Granville Washington was released from the Federal Detention Center earlier this morning.”

  “And?” I said. “I did my time.”

  “Was he innocent of shooting Roosevelt ‘Chicago’ DuBois? Now that Roosevelt is back with his wife and child, is there any truth to social media rumor? Is Granville out to attempt to kill Chicago again? Will Granville violate his restraining order to see the infant he claims is his?”

  “It’s not a claim, lady. Get your facts straight. I’ll do it, if I have to,” I said. Soon as I’d said that, I realized I didn’t mean it.

  Smack! Sindy slapped my face. “You’re dumber than you look.”

  “You’d better stop turning me on. If you get a feel of this hard wood, you mine.”

  She exhaled in my face, and I inhaled. Damn, I was hoping to give her another reason to hit me but she didn’t. I said, “If I kill Chicago, will you marry me?”

  Smack!

  Yes! This time her titties shook.

  I looked at Charles. Dude didn’t say a word. This moment reminded me when my mother used to tell my brother and me, “Whichever one is lying, tell the other one to shut up.”

  “You’re the stupid one,” I told her. “What woman wouldn’t marry a billionaire?”

  Sindy touched my thigh. Suddenly she got nice. “You’re right. I apologize. I know you’re hurting because that is your son. Let me help you prove it.”

  I tried to kiss her. She scooted back. Whatever. Her loss.

  I hoped she wasn’t trying to use me like Loretta and Madison had done. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  This time she’d kissed my cheek then glanced at her father. “Daddy we can be civil about this and no one has to get hurt.” Sindy started crying.

  Women sure were emotional.

  “I’m still not calling off the hit until you’re married. You are not marrying Chicago, and”—he paused, then continued—“Granville is going to do what I tell him to do no matter what you—”

  “I hate you!” She stood, picked up a vase, then hurled it toward her father.

  I swatted the vase to the floor. Charles should put me on payroll to protect him from his daughter. “I can’t do this,” I said watching Sindy cry. “Mr. Singleton, may I have your permission to marry your daughter?”

  That way Chicago wouldn’t have to die, we could pay that billionaire dude back his money, and everyone could be happy.

  Dude coughed again. This time in my face.

  “What the fuck!”

  Blood spilled from his mouth onto my lips. I wiped it off. The bodyguard handed me a cloth napkin. “What you got, man?”

  Sindy stared at me, then at her dad and said, “He’s got HIV.”

  Before she took one step toward the door, I pushed old dude to the floor. “If I’ma die you gon’ die first.” I raised my fist and aimed for his head. His bodyguards tackled me, pulled out their guns.

  “Beaux, get out of here. Go!” I yelled. If the police came, I’d do the time. I was about to make them guards use those bullets or take one hell of an ass whipping.

  CHAPTER 27

  Sindy

  “Don’t shoot him,” my father faintly lamented. “Give me a gun.”

  I shouted to the bodyguards, “Kill him! Kill! Him!” The first time I pointed at Granville. The second, my father.

  Granville frowned at me; Charles stared in disbelief.

  “Don’t shoot me, dude!” Granville yelled.

  I enjoyed watching Granville stare into the barrel of a gun. Did I want Granville dead? No. My fath
er? Not really. He was the only living parent I had. Had he killed our mother? Was it an accident? I never asked because I never wanted to know the truth.

  Everybody had a deep secret.

  Granville pulled back his fist to hit my father again. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to kill him first.”

  Beaux shouted, “He’s not worth it.”

  Granville’s fist stopped inches from my father’s face. Not because he’d changed his mind. One of the bodyguards hit Granville’s hand using the handle of his gun.

  “Ow! Dude, what the fuck! I’ve got a beat down with your name on it,” Granville said holding one hand with his other.

  Charles pathetically sprawled on the plush carpet. His elbow trembled as he braced himself. “Don’t just stand there. Help me up.” His guards put their guns in their pockets.

  If there were a category for best actor with no formal training, my dad would win the Academy Award. When his name is called, he will have to answer to God for the sins he’d committed. I prayed he didn’t do like the lying, cheating, abusive murderers who’d sinned all their lives, then repented on their dying bed. If everyone could get into heaven that way, what was the point of trying to do the right thing all my life? It was time I benefited from the pass God has granted.

  After our mother’s death, my sister was sold or bought—depended on how one viewed the situation. She’d gone from being my best friend to more of a stranger.

  I’d never forget the day Daddy said, “Siara isn’t coming back. If anyone asks, tell them Siara changed her mind at the last minute and decided to go to NYU instead of TSU.” His lie made me more skeptical about Mama.

  I never mentioned my sister to anyone, not even to Roosevelt. When I talked with Siara via Skype during Christmas, it was the hardest time of the year not to shed tears in front of her. She’d show off pictures of her three kids but she refused to let them speak with me. She’d never mention Mom. The day Siara told me, “I have to be a better protector of my children than you were of me,” I cried profusely.

  My sister could family vacation in Toronto but I couldn’t join them. She could Skype but I couldn’t visit her in Paris. Maybe my guilt made me passive. Perhaps she knew something I didn’t. Next time we face-chat, I wouldn’t ask. I’d insist. Hopefully, she wouldn’t resist.

  I still cry at night sometimes. I was only twenty when she was eighteen. How was I supposed to know when Daddy took her to Paris, she’d never come back? How many mentally ill men had done the same to their daughters?

  Charles had lied, “Paris is my high school graduation present to Siara. Sindy, I’ll take you anywhere in the world you want to go when you get your college degree.”

  While I watched his bodyguards help him to his feet, I should’ve kicked him while he was on the floor. The only reason I hadn’t was once I’d start, I might not stop until I stomped the last breath out of him.

  Trusting men was hard for me. I’d date. But when a guy wanted to have sex, I’d find a reason to break up with him. Roosevelt was different. I felt him in my heart. I knew I could trust him to take care of me and I’d do the same for him. We deserved each other. People don’t get what they deserve. They get what they earn, or they get what they take.

  Charles almost had me brainwashed. The thought of getting on a plane to Dubai, I’d considered it more than once. What was there not to love about Dubai? Never again was I entertaining my father’s desire. Thank God for Numbiya. She was a true friend willing to go with me.

  Agreeing with Charles not to shoot Granville was not to my advantage. Men like Granville were easily manipulated. He was the type of brute who would fight for any cause especially when he thought he was right. Loretta didn’t want him but he’d claimed she was his until she filed a protective order. Then he felt upgraded when she handed him off to her girlfriend. In his mind, Madison was his woman and the baby was his. I wasn’t 100 percent positive the kid was his but I had a plan to take Roosevelt’s name off of Zach’s birth certificate permanently.

  Unbeknownst to Granville, a few words out of his mouth made him indebted to me. I could’ve left my father’s house but I had to make myself a witness. I could have dialed 911. Instead, I stood by videotaping the incident. My part would be edited out.

  I’d rather reserve my power to send Granville back to jail. If he didn’t do what I’d tell him, I’d orchestrate my next moves and have him arrested for attempted murder of my father. Charles would have to hire another hit man. That was if he didn’t die from an accidental overdose the way Mama had. I still believed my mother was dead before he pushed her down the stairs. My father was sick. Mentally.

  Daddy didn’t have HIV. My dad’s esophagus was eroding from acid reflux. The lining of his throat was deteriorating. Doctors had prescribed medication that made my father’s condition worse. His coughing up blood wasn’t life-threatening, although there were times that I wished it were.

  Turning off the video, I had enough footage to put Granville away for a few years. I watched Beaux help Granville up. My cell phone interrupted the most entertaining moment I’d had in a while, as Beaux said, “Let’s get out of here, bro.”

  “Wait until the media hears about this. I’m sending your black ass back to jail,” Daddy said with his finger shaking. The movement in his hand wasn’t intentional.

  Distracted by the madness, I let Helen’s call go to voice mail. “Granville, Beaux, come with me.”

  Granville didn’t deserve to go back to jail for this nonsense but he could. I was disappointed he hadn’t hit my father that last time. A man with disregard for another man’s life needed to feel pain. That was true for both Granville and Charles.

  “Wait,” I said handing the suitcase to Granville. “You’ve earned this. Keep it. But don’t spend anything until you hear from me.”

  Granville didn’t hesitate. “Thanks.” He stared at Beaux. “I’m keeping this.” Interestingly, his hand felt well enough to grip the handle.

  I escorted them to their truck. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  I sat in my car until they drove off, then I listened to my voice mail. “I got the baby,” Helen had said. “Let’s get that test done while Madison is in the hospital getting her breast implants.”

  Whether or not I reunited with Roosevelt, I wanted to make Madison suffer for the evil things she’d done to a good man. The old Sindy Singleton was getting ready to set everyone straight.

  I saved the message then dialed his number. “Please accept my call.”

  “Haven’t heard from you in a while,” he answered. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Home.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Stay there. I’m on my way. We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Chicago

  When God tells you what to do and you don’t listen, what happens next?

  I prayed He’d give me another chance to do as He’d said. I hoped I wasn’t waiting for an answer that would never come.

  Standing outside the courtroom with my brother Chaz, I questioned if this was the appropriate time to abandon Madison. Taking care of her for a few months would be honorable. Then I could get back to Sindy and give her my undivided affection.

  “My biggest regret is messing up my chance to get to know Sindy.”

  “If you ask me, stop staring a gift horse in the mouth. Sindy is the one. Leave Madison’s trifling ass at the hospital. Move all of her shit out before she gets out. Let her parents pick her up. You’ve given Madison too much of yourself, dude.”

  He was right. But what harm would a few more months do at this point? “I’ll think about it.” Shifting my weight to the opposite leg, I glanced to the side, then exhaled heavily.

  “Aw, hell no. Please tell me you didn’t.”

  I nodded.

  “You used protection, right?” Chaz asked.

  I shook my head. “Soon as I ejaculated, I had regrets. She
told me she couldn’t get pregnant that soon.”

  My brother was quiet for a moment, then said, “Fuck that lying bitch Madison. She’ll probably say she’s pregnant even if she’s not. I can’t believe you let her set you up again. Never mind her. Don’t call Sindy. Go to Sindy’s house and apologize face to face. Take flowers. Long-stemmed red roses. All she can say is ‘It’s over.’ But most women don’t mean that shit. If she rejects you three times, move on. Don’t beg her ass.”

  Chaz always made relationship decisions appear easy. If I were more like him, Sindy would be here with me right now.

  My attorney opened the courtroom door. “We’re up.”

  Never had I imagined getting a divorce. This was not a joyous occasion. Maybe that’s why I was avoiding going through with it. The best part was, within the hour, I’d legally be a single man. Mom, Dad, and Grandpa decided not to come. I was glad Chaz was here.

  The judge announced, “Case of DuBois versus DuBois.”

  I sat on the right, facing the judge. My lawyer was seated next to me on my left.

  “Please stand and raise your right hand.”

  Glancing over my left shoulder, I could see Chaz seated in the first row. He nodded. I exhaled then faced the judge. When the bailiff was done reciting the oath, I answered, “I do.”

  The judge flipped through the file before her.

  Madison’s attorney stated, “Your Honor, I’d like to request a continuance. Mrs. DuBois is in the hospital having surgery.”

  “Objection,” my lawyer stated. “Mrs. DuBois has not contested the divorce.”

  “She meant to. It’s just that she’s been overwhelmed with taking care of the baby while Mr. DuBois is”—he nodded in my direction—“managing his football team. And my client was dealing with pre-op appointments and today she’s having her breast augmentation procedure. She had breast cancer, Your Honor. We haven’t had time to meet and I can’t call her because she is under anesthesia the same as she was the day she was served the divorce papers.”

  The judge looked to my attorney. I knew we were in a losing situation at the moment. He whispered in my ear, “What would you like to do? I can stand firm on the objection but it would make us appear insensitive to women and the community.”

 

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