by K'wan
“We ain’t decided shit, since I wasn’t here for whatever conversation y’all done had. And the only facts we need to know are that somebody touched Big Money and that they gotta die. No more to be said.”
“Amen to that shit!” Fire Bug added.
“Watch your mouth in front of Mama,” Big John said, checking him.
“Why does everyone in this family think the only way to solve a problem is to kill it?” Keith was frustrated.
“Because it’s our way . . . the Savage way,” Mad Dog said, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Guess you’d know that if you hadn’t turned your back on this family.”
“I didn’t turn my back on anyone. I went off into the world to try to better myself. I’m not apologizing for wanting more out of life than this shit!” Keith snapped.
“So, that’s what we are to you now? Shit?” Mad Dog questioned.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Mad Dog.”
“Hard to tell with you sometimes, Killer. What you say don’t always match up with what you do,” Mad Dog said.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asked defensively.
“Do I really need to say it?” Mad Dog got up from the table and stood in front of Keith.
“Boys, please!” Ma exclaimed, trying to defuse the situation.
“No, Mama. If your precious favorite son has a problem with me, then let him get it off his chest.” Keith was tired of Mad Dog’s shit and was ready to lay it all on the table.
“That’s fine,” Mad Dog said. “See, the rest of the family dances around your uppity-ass feelings, but I ain’t afraid to call a spade a spade. You might share our blood, but you ain’t no Savage, Killer. Ain’t been since you put the life of another muthafucka over that of your brother.”
The gauntlet had been thrown.
“You still on this shit, Mad Dog? Look, I’m sorry about what happened to her. You have every right to be mad at me for getting in the way of what you were planning, but as God is my witness, I did it only because I was trying to save you.” Keith was emotional.
“And instead, you broke me!” Mad Dog slammed his fist against the table so hard that it tipped and dishes spilled onto the floor. When he next spoke, his voice was thick with hurt. “Do you know what it was like for me, knowing that someone I loved had been murdered and there was nothing I could do to make it right? Of course you don’t, because when them boys killed your precious teacher, you settled that debt. Even had me help you clean it up.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Maxine asked. What had happened to Tate was a secret that no one in the family knew except Mad Dog and Ma.
“I’m talking about misplaced loyalties,” Mad Dog spat.
“There’s a difference between being disloyal and being compassionate,” Keith fired back. “What kind of man would I be if I had stood by and let you kill an innocent family over a death you caused?”
“Watch it, Killer,” Mad Dog snarled.
“What? The truth hurts? We were all fucked up when we found out Michelle was killed, but let’s be honest about this. Those bullets were meant for you, not her. If you wanna place blame somewhere, why don’t you start by looking in the mirror!”
Before anyone even realized that he had moved, Mad Dog was on Keith. He socked his little brother in the jaw so hard that Keith flew across the room and crashed into the china cabinet. When he closed in, Keith countered with a combination to Mad Dog’s chin. The two of them barreled around the kitchen, breaking dishes and knocking over silverware, beating each other like two strangers in the street.
Bernie came back into the kitchen to investigate the noise and found Keith and Mad Dog in a tangle on the kitchen floor, with Keith on top. In his hand he held a butcher knife, which he pressed to Mad Dog’s throat.
“Keith!” Bernie screamed.
Bernie’s voice brought Keith back from wherever his mind was visiting. He looked down at the knife in his hand, as if he was seeing it for the first time. Mad Dog looked up from beneath him, bloodied and smiling triumphantly.
“Go on. Finish the job,” Mad Dog taunted him. “Show that nice girlfriend of yours the true face of the man she’s fixing to marry!”
“I . . . I . . .” Keith couldn’t even compose his thoughts. The walls of the kitchen felt like they were closing in on him, and he found it hard to breathe. Keith rose from the floor, stood on shaky legs, and backed toward the door.
“Keith.” Bernie reached for his arm to steady him.
“Don’t,” he said as he snatched his arm away. “I’m sorry . . . Look, I just need some air.”
“I’ll come with you,” Bernie offered.
“I’m fine, Bernie. Really, just give me a few minutes to get my head together,” he told her and then walked out the back door.
* * *
Keith stumbled down the driveway in a blind rage. Rain was falling now, and the drops mixed with his tears and stained his cheeks. He couldn’t believe that he had almost killed his own brother. What the hell had he been thinking? But that was the point. He hadn’t been thinking, only reacting. Keith knew better than to think he could take Mad Dog in a fight. His brother had baited him, and Keith had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.
At the foot of the driveway, Keith was blinded by the lights of the Camaro that had just pulled up. He shielded his eyes and made out a figure getting out on the passenger side. When the headlights went off, he was able to make out Darla. She had been noticeably absent from the funeral.
“Killer, that you?” Darla called out.
“What are you doing here?” Keith asked rudely.
“I came to pay my respects to Big Money.”
“The funeral ended hours ago.”
“I know . . . I just figured that maybe I wasn’t too welcome and I should keep my distance. Darla noticed the tears on his cheeks. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he lied.
“Killer, if you need to talk—”
“Darla, if you came to pay your respects to Big Money, then I suggest you go inside and handle your business. I’m good,” Keith said, dismissing her.
Darla opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She recognized the darkness in Keith’s voice and knew him well enough to leave him alone when he got like that. She shook her head sadly and walked up the rest of the driveway to the house.
Keith felt bad about the way he had spoken to Darla. She had only been trying to make sure that he was okay, and he had acted like an ass. It was all spillover from the fight with Mad Dog. The longer he stayed in New Orleans, the more of himself he lost. He would be happy to be on a plane back to Atlanta tomorrow. He sat on the hood of the Camaro and rested there, collecting his thoughts. The car’s horn suddenly blared, startling him to his feet. He turned around and saw Beau’s smug face behind the wheel.
“Wouldn’t want you to fuck up my new paint job,” Beau said from inside the car.
“Sorry,” Keith mumbled.
“Indeed you are, but I ain’t one to judge,” Beau taunted and got out of the car. He looked at Keith, in his disheveled state, and whistled. “Man, looks like the day ain’t been kind to you. Funerals are always hard, especially when you’re burying family. The once mighty Savage clan seems to be getting smaller by the day. Soon won’t be none of y’all left.”
“Beau, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone. If you’re waiting for your bitch, you might want to do it from inside the car,” Keith warned. He was in no mood for Beau’s shit.
“Oh, now she’s a bitch? Wasn’t too long ago that she was the love of your life. I know you ain’t one of them ole bitter exes,” Beau taunted him. Keith ignored him. “Yeah, Darla had it bad for you. Probably still does. You know, for the first few months I was trying to get at her, she wouldn’t let me hit it. I guess she was saving herself for you, hoping her childhood crush would swoop in and rescue her from all this poverty. We see how that played out, didn’t we?”
“Last warning, Beau.”
“I’m only messing with you, Killer.” Beau flashed a crocodile grin. “Darla is actually a good little bitch. She ain’t too smart, but she got a shot of pussy that keeps me coming back. That girl stays as wet as the Mississippi. Yeah, she’s got some pussy, but her favorite hole is her mouth. We got this little game we play, where she lets me blow my load on her—” That was as far as Beau got before Keith snuffed him in the face.
Hitting Beau made Keith feel good. So good, in fact, that he hit him again and again and again. Beau found himself the recipient of all Keith’s pent-up anger. All his pain, his dashed hopes, his shortcomings . . . Keith rained them all down on Beau’s face. Beau tried to defend himself, but he was no match for Keith’s rage. He wasn’t sure how long he had been pounding on Beau before Ulysses came out and dragged Keith off him. Beau was unconscious, and his face had swelled to the size of a basketball.
“Two fights in one night? You’re worse than me during Mardi Gras.” Ulysses pulled Keith farther away from Beau. “What’s going on with you, Killer?”
“I need to get out of here. Can you drop me and Bernadette back off at my hotel?” Keith asked.
“No problem, kid. I’ll go in the house and get her for you. Stay put, and for the love of Christ, please don’t hit that boy anymore. That chicken is already done,” Ulysses said before heading back to the house to fetch Bernie and Keith’s bags.
A few minutes later Bernie and Keith were in Ulysses’s Chevy, getting ready to go back to the hotel. Bernie questioned Keith about the unconscious man in the driveway, but Keith didn’t answer. All he wanted to do was get away from his family. As they were pulling out of the driveway, Keith spared a glance back at the house. He saw Mad Dog standing at the top of the driveway with a beer in his hand. It was dark, so Keith’s couldn’t be sure, but he could’ve sworn his brother was smiling at him. Ma Savage wasn’t the only one who knew how to bring out the worst in him.
CHAPTER 25
As soon as they got back to Keith’s hotel, he took a long, hot shower. It felt like every bone in his body was aching, and the knuckles on his right hand were badly swollen. He hoped that he hadn’t broken the hand. One thing he had to admit, though, was that letting out some of that anger had felt good.
When he came out, he found Bernie sitting on the bed. She had slipped into one of the hotel’s complimentary bathrobes. Near the door, there was a room-service cart. She had also taken the liberty of fixing them two drinks from the minibar. One thing he loved about Bernie was that she always seemed to know what he wanted without him having to ask.
“Thanks, babe.” Keith took one of the drinks.
“I wasn’t sure if you had a chance to eat back at the house, so I ordered you some room service. All they had at this hour were sandwiches, but I guess it beats going to bed hungry,” she told him, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m not real hungry. I just want to get some sleep and get ready for that flight.” Keith threw himself across the bed.
“What was that business about back at the house?” Bernie asked. She had never known Keith to be a fighter, yet all he had seemed to be doing since she got to New Orleans was fight.
“With who? Beau? He’s just some shit-talking nigga who has never liked me since we were kids,” Keith told her.
“I’m not talking about Darla’s boyfriend,” Bernie said, letting him know that she was more informed than he gave her credit for. “I’m talking about you getting into it with Mad Dog.”
“Just some old shit he can’t seem to let go of,” Keith said, downplaying it.
“Are we doing this again?”
“Doing what?” Keith pretended not to know what she was talking about.
“Omitting the truth. I haven’t totally forgiven you yet, but the fact that I flew down here says I’m open to the idea. If we’ve got any shot at a future, I’m going to need you to start being honest with me. Is this about Michelle?”
Keith looked surprised when Bernie mentioned that name.
“I heard you yell her name when you and Mad Dog were arguing,” Bernie explained. “Does she have something to do with all this?”
“She has everything to do with it.”
* * *
A little-known fact about the Savage children was that they were all well educated. Ma had made sure that they all spent just as much time studying the books as they did learning how to rob banks. She hadn’t given two shits about what they did in the street, but school was something she had never allowed them to slack off on.
All the Savage children, with the exception of Fire Bug, had graduated from college. Keith had spent time at Texas A&M before graduating from NYU and then getting his law degree, Big John had gone to Louisiana Tech, and Maxine had received her undergraduate degree from Northwestern. All three of them had college degrees, and it was no different with Mad Dog. He had surpassed them all not only by being accepted to Tulane University but also by graduating at the top of his class. Despite his reputation as a vicious killer, Mad Dog was also a borderline genius. He even graduated high school a year early. When he got his degree from Tulane, Mad Dog Savage had been poised to go on and do some amazing things with his life until the night that changed everything.
Mad Dog and Michelle had dated off and on since middle school and had gotten serious in high school. Next to Ma, she was his biggest supporter. Michelle knew who Mad Dog was and the things he did. Though she didn’t approve of his lifestyle, she stuck around because she believed that he had the ability to change. And for a while, it looked like he would.
On the day of his Tulane graduation, the family threw Mad Dog a big party at the house. At some point, that night Mad Dog and Michelle slipped away from the party and went off to have a private celebration. That was the night Mad Dog was prepared to propose to Michelle. He planned to marry her and whisk her away from New Orleans, so they could start a new life, one that didn’t involve him being an enforcer for the family. Much like Keith, Mad Dog knew the only way to truly put the Savage name behind him was to leave New Orleans, but unlike Keith, he would never have the chance.
Mad Dog took Michelle to one of her favorite places, a restaurant called August. He had never really cared for the food, but Michelle loved it, so he endured. They had a quiet dinner and shared a bottle of expensive red wine. Mad Dog picked the right moment and got on one knee and asked for Michelle’s hand. Of course, she accepted. It was one of the happiest days in both their lives, but their moment of joy was short lived.
On the streets of New Orleans, Mad Dog had no shortage of enemies. He had killed many men in the name of his family, and it was only a matter of time before his karma came back to haunt him. Apparently, one of his enemies had spotted Mad Dog and Michelle in the restaurant and had lain in wait for them. When Michelle and Mad Dog came out of August, the two men exchanged words right in front of the restaurant. Michelle pleaded with Mad Dog the whole time to leave it alone. She was making progress until the man Mad Dog had been arguing with called Michelle a bitch. Without even thinking about it, Mad Dog gunned the man down. It was when he and Michelle were making their escape that things went sour. An armed security guard who worked at the bank next door to the restaurant had seen what happened. Michelle and Mad Dog managed to reach the car and get in, but as Mad Dog was pulling away from the scene, the guard fired two shots, one of which hit Michelle in the back of the head. She died instantly.
Mad Dog was inconsolable. Michelle’s death broke him in mind and spirit. Day and night he could think of nothing but revenge against the man who had murdered his lover. It didn’t take long for the Savage family to find out everything they needed to know about the man. He was a working-class citizen who had taken the job at the bank as a second source of income to feed his wife and six kids. That didn’t matter to Mad Dog. He wanted the man to suffer as he was suffering. And instead of killing him, Mad Dog planned to kill his family.
Keith was the only one Mad Dog shared his plan with. Keit
h tried to talk Mad Dog out of it. He was fine with Mad Dog killing the security guard, but the family should be off-limits. They were innocent, but Mad Dog would hear none of it. The sentence had been passed, and the executioner planned to carry it out. Keith knew that if Mad Dog got caught, he would surely get the death penalty. There was no way he could stop his brother by force, so Keith came up with another solution.
When Mad Dog left the house on the day he planned to carry out the execution of the family, Keith called the police and reported his brother’s car stolen. After the police stopped Mad Dog, they arrested him for possession of a firearm and a stolen car. It took a while for the police to sort out that Mad Dog had a gun permit and that the car was his own, and the few days they held him was enough time for Keith to go to the man and explain to him in no uncertain terms what would happen to him if he and his family remained in New Orleans. By the time Mad Dog was released from the city lockup, the man and his family had vanished.
Keith told Bernie all of this.
“I denied Mad Dog his revenge, and he’s never been able to forgive me for it,” he said with a heavy heart.
“Keith, you saved the lives of an entire family. You should be proud,” Bernie replied, trying to ease his pain.
“Yes, but it came at the cost of my brother. Mad Dog was angry, and rightfully so, but I know my brother. Even if he’d gotten away with it, he never would have been able to live with the stain of what he’d done on his soul.”
“If you had it to do over again, would you still warn the man?” Bernie asked.
“Yes,” Keith said honestly.
“Then you did the right thing. You guys haven’t seen each other in a while, so the wound may still be fresh, but you’re brothers and you can get through this.”
“How?” Keith asked.
“Go to him and explain it to him like you’ve explained it to me.”
“You don’t think I have? I tried to tell him when it first happened. I ain’t gonna keep kissing his ass.”