Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug

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Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug Page 20

by K'Aliyah Knight


  Now I gotta do something even worse…

  Chapter 54

  LORENZO

  Damn, so Rocky finally came clean about my lil’ nigga. I didn’t need a paper to tell me that Junior was my son, even though I had the DNA results a long time ago. Before telling her about accidentally murdering Thomas, I was going to have her disrespectful ass apologize for keeping me from my don for almost five years. Now, that shit ain’t finna happen.

  “Fitz, answer the muthafuckin’ phone.” I command, gripping the receiver as I stand at the airport. Usually I charter Fitz’s private plane when going to Colombia. Fitzgerald charges buku money to smuggle in my rock so I travel first class when I’m in the states. But the flight itinerary scrolling by on the wall shows all the flights are booked till tomorrow morning.

  While I’m waiting for Fitz, who knows to answer a certain phone promptly, I go up to the counter at one of the airline stations to see if there are any cancellations.

  “Just a sec, sir.” The blonde continues to type. “Uh, well tomorrow afternoon.”

  “No! Today.”

  “With the holiday and all–”

  “I need to be there now!”

  She looks afraid so I back the fuck off. I know not to get active in no muthafuckin’ airport. Soon as I step away, Fitz is calling back. He says we could be in Hoover by midnight. Fuck what Rocky is going through, I’ll tie her crazy ass up if need be and have a doctor take care of her. Feed her. Keep her healthy. She’s having my babies.

  Chapter 55

  RAPHAEL

  I move around with the use of my cane as Rockwell steps inside our bedroom, taking her clothes off for bed. She stops pulling off her sweater and looks sad to see me with a piece of luggage.

  “I know what it looks like, Rockwell. Let me go to this one job interview in Tennessee. I think we should move. If I get this job, Mom doesn't have to help with the mortgage anymore. There won’t be any more traveling salesman. Let me be a man.” I look her in the eye, meaning every word. Make no mistake this is still a test no matter how much I love my wife.

  “But I had already said I would help more.” Rockwell replies, sinking down onto the silk chaise lounge.

  “No, you have bills. I'm sure the insurance money for your store is tied up in rebuilding Rock With It…” I try not to glare through her as she nods. This bitch lied to my face. SO BE IT! With a smile, I step up to her and say, “Let me be a provider.”

  She stands up, and comes into my arms careful like. Rockwell gives me the best kiss I’ve had in a while. Too bad. If she hadn’t lied, I wouldn’t be leaving. I'm going to miss my wife. I will miss her so much. Tomorrow, while I'm in Tennessee–really at an interview–my home is going to be robbed. My poor wife, she'll be beaten so harshly that she's only good enough for the life insurance policy I have out on her. So our son can keep that chump change store insurance. My wife is worth more than a million bucks dead.

  The next time my mom complains I won't have to hear her shit. And she'll think twice if she wants to see Junior. I kiss my wife's lips.

  Rockwell is at the door when I leave. Her beautiful lips tantalize me. She really does give the best head. And I've had much to choose from over our marriage.

  “I love you so much,” she hugs me again.

  I kiss her hard and long. Leave her on the porch all breathless with want. The night is cold. Now I just need to meet Mikey down the hill before my red-eye flight. By midnight my wife should be dead, if that fuck up comes exactly when he is supposed to.

  Chapter 56

  ROCKWELL

  A noise makes my heartbeat a mile a minute. For a second, I think I’m dreaming. I’d been on the phone with a realtor in Long Beach, California all night long making a bid on a nice little foreclosed home. The realtor had been so good about finding a prestigious school for Junior, and I’d have a tiny home right near the beach. I wanted me and Junior to be gone before Raphael returned home from the trip.

  It's dark as hell when I reach over in bed and quickly grab my .25 pistol with a pearl handle from the top drawer. Must be Bonita? But after Raphael left I felt eerie. I was going to leave him tomorrow morning, but this house is too damn big for only two women. I should have packed and left tonight. But Junior is spending the night at a friend’s. When my son is home, I'm less of a wimp.

  I slip the gun into my silk robe and go downstairs with only the moonlight from the skyline. My eyes are barely adjusting to the night when I see a big figure. My heart literally stops! I’m stuck. Can’t move a muscle as my body is snatched up.

  A hand goes over my mouth and I can't scream. I start to bite down–

  “Just listen to what I have to say.” Lorenzo flips on the lights. We’re standing in the laundry room. He lets me go and his hands go up just to show he’s not the enemy. Sneaky snake!

  Realizing that he thinks my husband is home, I roll with it, and then pull my gun out. “So what's up? Didn't I say I never want to see you again?”

  “Look.” He pulls up his thermal, and if it hadn’t been molded to his rippled abdominals before, I get a full view of his God given abs. “Rocky, I don't got no fire on me. Just wanna talk.”

  “So either I can tell my husband you here or pull this trigger,” I lie.

  “Man, don’t go there with that lame.” He steps closer to me. “Shoot me then.”

  “You the one took me to the shooting range; you know I’m a crack shot, Lorenzo.” This nigga is so crazy he'd rather me shoot him than call on Raphael. I slam back the hammer.

  He steps up, chest to the barrow.

  The words shake their way out of my mouth, “Did you kill my dad?”

  “It was an accident.”

  Oh God, I have to force myself to breathe. “Did YOU personally pull the muthafuckin’ trigger or one of your goons?”

  His dark eyes go to the floor for a second. “It was me, ma.”

  “Why?” my voice cracks. My dad had never done any wrong. He wouldn’t hardly associate with Marcel for being a gun dealer. Lorenzo had always respected my parents. The worst thing, Lorenzo had ever done was one time pretend like he was going to rob Thomas but disguising his voice and telling Thomas to be a man and take care of his family. I had been pissed when Renz told me about going up to my daddy with a bandana on. Yeah, my nigga had good intentions, no matter how crazy his Colombian ass is. My daddy even stopped drinking so much after that. He had held an unloaded gun up to my drunken dad one night outside the liquor store. Renz had been hot headed and tired of me saying my dad was a drunk.

  My breaths come in short waves, and it feels like I’m going to pass out. But I say, “Nigga, tell me what happened.”

  “Rocky, it was an accident,” he tries. When I give Lorenzo the evil eye, he continues, “We were stepping out when he came to the door. Rocky, I didn’t even see Thomas’ face.”

  Inside, I’m screaming at myself for being so blinded by this muthafucka. I smirk, “I killed your babies today. Just a little pill and a snap of my finger, no more Lorenzo bastards.”

  He glares at me through gritted teeth.

  But I want him to feel so much more pain than a quick shot to the heart. “Nice. Quick. Innocent. Dead ass twins. Guess I killed two people you cared about since you killed my daddy! So how many times did you shoot my dad?”

  “Once.”

  “Where?”

  “Kid, don't do this. You know I fucked up. Didn’t mean to that’s all you need to know.”

  “Renz, I asked where.”

  “Bullet to the chest.”

  “Right here?” I ask, pointing the barrel harder into his chest.

  “Pull it if you going to, Rocky,” Lorenzo says, not an ounce of fear.

  “Nah, nigga. Try to check me? I got the gun.”

  “You got the gun, ma, I don't got nothing but love for you tho.”

  “You are a liar! I hate you, Lorenzo. You ain’t got no love for me!” Tears come to my eyes. I want to just shoot him dead right now. “Bet you j
ust saying I love you to manipulate me! But you ain’t ever do shit but leave me over and over again. That’s why I never told you about Junior.”

  He begins to tell me a story, one so very familiar. I was bad as fuck stepping through the projects in a Baby Phat romper. Dude recalls how my hair was every tiny ass detail. In my head, I hum.

  “That's the past,” I tell Lorenzo, wanting to cut through the bullshit.

  “Loved you from day one. No lie.”

  I shake the gun in my hand. “Ugh, I hate you so much. Yeah, you want to play me so you don’t go out like a muthafuckin’ bitch for being shot by a female. I hate you!”

  “I love you, Rocky.” He makes the words sound so real.

  “Look at me. Lorenzo I feel nothing for you.” I tell him through blurred tears.

  “Forgive me.”

  “I have been so dumb for so long. You fixed that tho’. You finally broke my heart. I can't. My heart gone. I murdered your stupid babies! You ain’t seeing Junior ever again.”

  This shit hurts my heart. Why could I give a fuck about the nigga that murked my own fucking father? Before I can crumple to the floor crying, Lorenzo scoops me up as if he really does love me. Body trembling as I cry, I push away from him. “I hate you Lorenzo.”

  “Just let me apologize. Rockwell, I'm going to follow you to your room. Don't give a damn about your husband. I apologize.”

  “So.”

  He stops me at the stairs damn near holding me up. Why is my heart gone? It’s still in Lorenzo’s hands no matter what. This is unforgivable but I'm still lost to Lorenzo like I was so long ago.

  “I'm sorry, Rocky. Forgive me. I’ma stick by your side till you get that,” he whispers in my ears, following me up the stairs.

  “Raphael ain't here. When he gets back, you can do all your apologizing. I’ma ask his family to kill you!” I shout.

  He doesn’t even get pissed, but asks, “Why not do it yaself?”

  “I'm too good for you.”

  We get to my room. I lay down holding my pillow to my chest and cry more. Then Lorenzo is there beside me. He holds me. Sniffling and teary eyed, there’s no strength in me to fight him off, as his big arms wrap around me.

  “Rocky, look what papi bought you, huh baby?” he says pulling a lime green ring pop from his jean pocket. Leaning on his elbow, Lorenzo takes my hand even though I don’t want him to. I can’t speak. This nigga has me speechless. Torn between the “Renz” I fell in love with as a kid, and the muthafuckin' devil lying beside me.

  “Remember when I used to buy you these damn ring pops?” he asks, putting it on my finger. “You knew from jump I was going to marry you, Rocky. I told you that.”

  I glare at my favorite flavor, sour apple until my vision blurs with tears. The candy diamond adorns my finger. The look on Lorenzo’s face reminds me of the past. Yeah, he had said these things. Shit, onetime this nigga even got on his damn knees with my ring pop to put it on my finger. Lorenzo pulls me into his arms. Like I’ve done a million times before, I fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

  Chapter 57

  LORENZO

  Like I said from jump, a nigga can be dead sleep.

  Hear that one sound.

  Nice slow cock of a hammer and the shit gets real.

  My eyes pop open. lil’ Mama is looking deliciously comfortable in my arms till her husband speaks. Rocky shoots up to a seated position. I play it cool. Came over here with not one muthafuckin’ burner. Just to talk to this girl. Now I'm fucked.

  Raphael speaks, “No need to introduce you to Vido, eh… Lorenzo. You know all about my family? Heard you've been sleeping with my wife since the beginning of time.” Raphael leans against the fireplace mantle. His simple ass looks confident as fuck, with the five Italians holding pump shotguns surrounding the bed.

  He walks over, takes his hands from his Armani pants and looks at his wife with a frown. “Stupid whore, I'm so disappointed in you.”

  Rockwell leans closer into me. And this shit is all bad. How I’ma protect my girl with all these muthafuckas around? Raphael pauses, and comes closer o Rockwell. He chuckles so hard, pointing to her hand. “Damn, that’s what you get, Rockwell? You let this motherfucker put that fucking candy ring on you when he probably can get you a flawless diamond just like that!”

  Raphael’s crew all look bored as he continues to joke, “My dear wife, I’d think your fucking blow jobs were worth more than that bullshit on your finger.”

  The smile on Raphael’s face fades. He starts to tell me how I’m dead. Shit, how we both dead. One of the other Italians yawns as Raphael continues talking, asking me, “So you have nothing to say?”

  “Don't speak about it, be about it.”

  “Yeah, we murdered that personal trainer, Rocky, but this motherfucker too? How many niggers are you fucking?” Raphael says, taking ownership as if he’d murked Ashley himself. “Rocky, you think we're going to put a bullet through your skull. Nice and easy?” He points a trigger finger to Rockwell’s head then laughs as she gasps.

  “Bitch,” I snap. “Man, don’t do that shit to your wife. If you want to kill me–” Again the guns go to my face, now my girl is pleading for me to shut the fuck up.

  So I whisper to her, “Rockwell, don’t worry. You ain’t gon’ die. On my life.” Man, don’t know what’s going to happen next, but if my girl dies… shit I’ma come back from the grave and murk all these muthafuckas and their descendants.

  “Don't worry, Rockwell will die soon too. The thing is, I'd already had a life insurance policy on her. So she was supposed to die today no matter what. Didn't expect to see you coming while I was on my way to my alibi.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Rockwell shouts.

  “Thank you, my dear wife. Now you decide to address me?” He sounds insulted. “First, you couldn’t speak. Then you’re worried about this motherfucker! Well, I’m beginning to appreciate your enthusiasm. See, I had Lil’ Mikey burn down your store. You got all stingy and wanted to save your money for Junior. When you know I take care of my son–”

  “Junior is not your son!” She spits in his face.

  Raphael takes the back of his hand to wipe and continues without missing a beat. “Now on to plan b. My beautiful wife before you die, you will watch Mr. Medina die.”

  “No,” she cries.

  “It's going to be okay,” I tell her in Spanish.

  Chapter 58

  ROCKWELL

  One of the Italians hits Lorenzo in the back of his head with the butt of a shotgun, knocking him out. They toss me a jacket, jeans and an old pair of Nike’s since I usually wear stilettos. Vido shook his head at me while they escorted me to the car. It’s the first time he’s looked at me since he and four of Salvatore’s goons came up to the bedroom. After all the years of being cool with Raphael’s uncle, Vido looks at me like I’m a piece of shit.

  Hastily I tie my silk robe, put on some sneakers and am being pushed down the stairs and into Vido’s Cadillac.

  “Please…” I beg Vido when he gets into the car alone and we drive off. Looking through the back window, I notice Lorenzo’s body on the marble floor in the doorway, but they haven’t stepped out of my house.

  “Your lover will meet us at Sal’s.”

  ~~~

  In Sal’s driveway, my heart is beating in my ears. Vido pulls me out the backseat, with a firm grip. He isn’t pushing me around like he and the others did a while ago. As we step into a marble foyer, I breathe for the first time seeing the other Cadillac pull into the U shaped driveway. But the double doors are closed shut by the old white butler before I can make sure Lorenzo is okay.

  When I turn forward, Sal is right in my face. His wrinkled hand goes to my cheek. “Slight bruising,” he says, caressing me. Then his eyes turn a lustful shade of amber, and he adds, “My beautiful Rockwell please go clean up.”

  “No.” I struggle against Vido’s grip on my arm. “Let me go.”

  “Why would you do this to me?”


  “Do what, Sal? I haven’t done anything but cheat. Raphael has cheated on me a hundred times!”

  He’s still calm, as he places his hand in his velvet suit jacket. “You've been welcomed into the family. You’ve been to Ganza family reunions in Sicily! I feel as if you lied to me since day one. Did you give that man intel? You're the reason my family has seen so much pain?”

  “I don't understand,” I whisper. Although he’s so composed, there’s something, a vibe that I’m getting from him, that has me so afraid. Not like death, I expected it after my husband’s long speech, but something else…

  I’m escorted to one of the many guestrooms. The butler forces me to take a shower as he stands in the marble bathroom. Then he shoves a sheer lilac colored dress in my direction, with only sparkly diamonds to cover my nipples. Silently I cry, and put on the clothing. And without words, the butler escorts me into the dining room that seats thirty with a long wood table and gold finishes. My husband, his own mother Tamara, and Sal are there.

  “Let's eat,” Sal says.

  There’s no life in me as I take a seat. After a moment, Tamara asks, “Why?”

  There are no words for me to say. Then they tell me about something that when Lorenzo’s crew came through his restaurant a few weeks ago.

  I'm stunned. The Phantom! It had been all over the newspapers.

  “Don't pretend like you had nothing to do with it!” Tamara screams.

  “No, I didn’t!” I look toward Sal, but he’s started on some type of soup that has been set before us all.

  “Calm down, Tamms. Everything will work out in due time,” Sal replies and takes a sip of wine.

  Tamara shakes her head. “See what happens when you sin?” She shows me a picture of Junior, a screen saver for her phone. “Now he'll be raised with just a dad.”

  “Raphael isn't his father.” I smirk.

  Tamms shrugs. “Doesn’t matter, Raphael Junior is family and that’s how he will always stay…”

 

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