by RM Johnson
“Yes, you are. You’re an affectionate, loving person who needs love and affection back.”
“Is that why you’re always harder on me than on Henny?”
“That’s right,” Livvy confirmed. “Henny’s not as much like me as you are. She doesn’t need that security as much as we do, so I didn’t have to ride her as much. But it never meant that I loved you any less, baby.” Livvy leaned forward to look into her daughter’s face. “I do it because I love you oh so much.”
Alizé threw her arms around Livvy, hugging her as tight as she dared. “I love you, too,” she said, still weeping for her mother. “I love you, too.”
FORTY-ONE
RAFE pulled the Jaguar into the parking lot of the Marriott Suites hotel As he pulled the key out of the ignition, he wondered why he was here, thought of just turning around and going back home. But what would be there? Just that empty room and thoughts of Henny he couldn’t do anything with but be sad about.
This was what he had been doing since the night he had last seen her. She had called him a zillion times, but he never picked up. She left him voice mails, but he could only bring himself to listen to the first few words of the first message, because he knew if he heard her out, he would go running back to her, and that he couldn’t do. Bottom line, Livvy’s mother was right: they were wrong for each other. End of story.
Things weren’t any better on the work front. Smoke had called recently.
“Had enough time off, pimp. Time to come on back,” he’d said.
It wasn’t enough time, because Rafe still hadn’t found a way to get out of this situation.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” was what he said.
“Stop playin’ games, Rafe. I gave you your thinking time, and that should’ve been enough for you to know that that little shit that happened at the club had nothing to do with you. It was happening before you got out of prison, and it’s gonna keep on happenin’ when it has to. You can’t change it, and you don’t cause it. So stop fuckin’ freakin’. Put some clothes on and meet me at the Marriott off of 1-80. Suite 216. Picked up some bitches from a club, and I’m sure it’s something you’d be interested in.”
“I don’t think so, Smoke.”
“C’mon, Rafe. Get yo’ ass up. You ain’t doin’ nothing, and I know you ain’t got no ass there, so c’mon.”
And Smoke was right about that. He wasn’t doing anything but thinking about Henny. He needed to stop that. He wasn’t with her anymore, and eventually he would have to get used to being with other women, so why not start tonight? It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he agreed.
“Yeah, all right. See you there.”
“My nigga,” Smoke said.
RAFE climbed the stairs to suite 216 and really didn’t have to see the numbers to be sure that it was Smoke’s room, for the music was pounding hard against the inside of the door.
Rafe knocked. There was no answer. He knocked harder. Still no answer. He pounded with the side of his fist, and just before he hammered down on the door for the third time, it quickly swung open. Smoke stood there, his shirt off, a drink in his hand, a huge grin on his face.
“Damn playa. I know you frantic to get in, but I wasn’t gonna start wit’out you. Enter,” Smoke said, holding the door wide for Rafe to pass in.
Rafe walked through the large room, a sofa and chair on one side, two queen beds on the other. All the lights were off except for a blue bulb burning in one of the bed lamps. Erotic music with a hard hip-hop beat blared out of a portable stereo atop the dresser.
Smoke walked up behind Rafe and slapped a hand down on his shoulder, squeezing it.
“So whatcha think?” Smoke asked, and he was obviously referring to the four women wearing nothing but thongs and T-shirts, dancing and fondling each other on top of the beds.
“Wow,” Rafe said, in a tone lacking emotion. “Not bad, I guess.”
“That’s what a tight pocketful of loot will do for a brotha. Now grab you a drink, take yo’ shit off, and let’s have some fun.”
Rafe watched as Smoke jumped onto one of the beds, watched as the two girls there started to undo his pants, strip him down.
Rafe walked over to the dresser, grabbed himself a plastic cup, and reached for one of the three open bottles that was there. He didn’t know what it was—it was too dark to see—but he poured his cup half full and replaced the cap, thinking how much he didn’t belong here.
He turned around to face the bouncing, frolicking girls. He saw one of them seductively motioning with a finger for him to come to her. As he took a step forward, an image of Henny flashed before him. He saw quick snippets of their first meeting, the first time they kissed, the first time they made love. He stopped for a moment, thinking of backing away, putting his cup down, but then he remembered the talk he had with Henny’s mother. Rafe looked up at the girls again, brought the cup to his lips and kicked it back, drinking its contents down in just one swallow. Then he walked toward the girls atop the bed, taking off his shirt, and undoing his pants as he went.
FORTY-TWO
WADE would’ve gone after her that day, but he was too busy trying to wipe scalding coffee from his face and at the same time save the sale of the car, which he had been certain was a sure thing.
It wasn’t. He saw this as soon as he had finally smeared enough of the liquid away to open his eyes and speak like someone who hadn’t been set afire.
“So, I’ll take an additional five hundred dollars off the price of the car for all the trouble you guys have just had to go through.” But Wade could see by the looks on their faces that they were no longer interested in doing business with him.
They walked toward the door, not saying a word.
“How about a thousand?”
They walked through the door and were gone.
“Dammit!” Wade threw the now-soaked tie he had taken off to mop his face with to the floor. He had lost the sale. Worse, he had lost a very special woman.
TWO DAYS later, Wade picked up his phone for what seemed the one-thousandth time, dialed Livvy’s number, and waited as it rang. He stood by his dresser, tapping his foot, telling himself that Livvy should’ve been home from work because it was after eight. He was pissed the hell off. Not pissed off like when he called her the first time, two days ago, still thinking about losing his sale, and not like when he called her half a dozen times yesterday, angry because she hadn’t called him back yet. No, Wade was truly and extremely pissed because of the time they’d spent together, the moments they shared, and all the personal things he had told her, and now she wasn’t even picking up the phone.
He waited the final two rings, knowing the voice mail would pick up, and when it did, he angrily slammed down the phone.
“Forget this!” Wade said, grabbing a jacket out of the closet, snatching his keys off the TV, and heading out the door.
He got to Livvy’s building in record time, his anger making him speed. He pulled into the parking lot and decided he would go up to her apartment even though he didn’t see her car. She was probably parking it down the street or something to make him think she wasn’t home, just like she wasn’t answering her damn phone, Wade thought.
Wade stepped off the elevator, angrier than when he had got on, thinking about her treatment of him, and when he got to her door, he didn’t hold back his rage, pounding heavily at it.
There was no answer, so he pounded three more times. When still no one answered, Wade pressed his face into the crack where the door met the frame and yelled, “I know you’re in there, Livvy. Open the door.” After a full minute, he heard nothing and turned around, about to leave. But then he heard the faintest noise behind the door. He spun back around and banged at the door again.
“Livvy, I heard you in there. Open the damn door.”
“I ain’t opening nothin’,” he heard Livvy call from somewhere in her apartment.
“C’mon. I called you a thousand times. Why haven’t you called
me back?”
“Because I obviously don’t want to talk to you.”
Wade turned in a circle, not knowing what to do next. “I lost that sale because of you. That was money in my pocket. You know that.”
“Good,” Livvy said sarcastically. “But I’m sure that didn’t hurt you since you own the place.”
“Look. I told you that for a reason.”
“I don’t care.”
“Look, I had no problem lying to you at first, but now I regret that I did it,” Wade said. “I was just telling you what you wanted to hear.”
“What do you mean, what I wanted to hear?”
“Just let me in, and I’ll tell you.”
“No. You can say what you need to say from out there.”
“Livvy, I’m not going to spill my guts out here so all your nosy neighbors can know what’s going on between us.”
“They won’t know, ’cause it’s probably all lies you telling anyway.”
Wade shook his head, frustrated. He looked at the door angrily, as if he was seeing through it, directing his stare at Livvy.
“Fine, Livvy,” he said. “You want me to tell you everything. No problem!” And now he spoke at the top of his lungs, loud enough for all the people in the neighboring apartments to hear, as well as a few above and below. “I told you that I owned that dealership. I lied about where I lived because when I met you, you were the most beautiful, honest woman I had met in a long time.”
“Wade, what are you doing? You don’t have to yell,” Wade heard Livvy say under the sound of his booming voice, but he continued.
“I knew in order for someone like you to spend time with someone like me, there were rules. I thought I needed money to be with you. So I lied and said I had it, even if it was just to get you in bed. To have sex with you.”
“Wade!” Livvy said, her voice just right behind the door now. “Stop puttin’ my business out like that,” she said in a high whisper.
“And man, I got to say that was the best sex I ever had!” he yelled.
“Wade! Stop it.”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“So anyway,” Wade continued, now pacing up and down the hall so all Livvy’s neighbors could hear. “When we had SEX, it was like the most incredible thing I had ever experienced. You showed me things I hadn’t seen in all my years. That one position where you turned around and grabbed your—”
“Wade!”
“Yes,” Wade said, in a sing-songy voice.
“I’ll open the door. But you say what you have to say, then you’re outta here.”
“Fine.” Wade heard the chain loosened and then a bolt turn, and the door was cracked open.
Wade pushed his way in, closing the door behind him, then turned around to see Livvy with her back toward him. He knew things hadn’t been resolved yet, but just being inside her place made him confident that everything would be okay. He was so happy to see her that he quickly walked up behind her, threw his arms around her, and squeezed.
Livvy cried out, shrinking away from him in pain.
“Livvy, what’s wrong?” Wade said, worried, thinking that he had harmed her in some way. When she turned around, big dark glasses hung on her face, but they did not come close to covering all the damage.
Wade gasped, shocked, not believing what he was seeing. “Livvy, what happened?” He reached out to grab her, but again she shied away.
“It was … it was nothing. I had a car accident,” Livvy said, turning her head down, trying to hide her face.
“A car accident,” Wade said, skeptically, seeing the bruises, cuts, and scrapes on her face. He knew what a beating looked like both from getting a couple of them over the years and dishing plenty of them out. “Was anyone else involved?”
“No. I mean yes,” Livvy said. “A little old lady.”
“Was she hurt?”
“No.”
“She wasn’t hurt,” Wade said skeptically. “But you come out looking like this. Must’ve been some tough little old lady.”
“Yeah. Tough,” Livvy agreed.
Wade didn’t say anything, just stood there in silence, looking at her.
Livvy peered at him from over the top of the dark glasses. “What?”
“You been to the hospital for this?”
Livvy shook her head.
Wade reached for the glasses off Livvy’s face, but she pulled away. “Let me see,” Wade asked gently. “Please.”
Livvy brought the shades down from her face to reveal a left eye that was swollen almost completely shut, with blackness that had spilled over to the right eye.
Wade shook his head, feeling both sympathy and a steadily growing anger in him. With a calm voice, he managed to say, “Livvy who did this to you?”
“I told you. I was in an accident.”
“Livvy, don’t lie to me.”
Livvy tried to shift his attention. “What are you talking about? You the one who’s been doing all the lying.”
“This isn’t about me. Who did that to your face?” Wade asked, stroking one of Livvy’s hands. “And I want to know the truth.”
Livvy shook her head again, tears spilling from her eyes, as she appeared to try to tell Wade everything that happened but couldn’t.
“Was it a man?” Wade asked, hoping for god’s sake that it wasn’t. But when Livvy nodded her head, he felt a pain in his heart he could not describe, envisioning Livvy on the end of punches strong enough to damage her face like that.
“Was it someone that you used to see … someone that you still see?” And Wade hesitated to ask the second part of that question, but it was something he had to know.
“I used to see him,” Livvy said softly, ashamed that it had come to this.
“The police pick him up?”
“No.”
“Did you call the police?” Wade asked, sensing he knew the answer already.
“No.”
“He did this to you, and you didn’t call the police?” And the anger was back again, even stronger than before. “So this man beats you up and you just let it go?”
“It’s done, Wade. It’s over now.”
“No. It’s not done. It’s not over,” Wade said, with an intensity in him that had him up, pacing in front of her like a caged animal. “But it’ll be over when I see him. What’s his name?”
Livvy didn’t even look up at Wade, but shook her head.
“What’s his name, Livvy!” Wade asked more forcefully.
“I’m not tellin’ you. What’s done is done, Wade.”
“No!” Wade said, passionately. “I can’t just stand by while some man lays his hands on the woman that I love and be expected to …” Wade paused, not knowing that he was going to say what he had just said. It had to be his emotions getting the best of him. He hoped Livvy hadn’t heard that, but judging by the look on her face, she had.
There was a moment of silence—not awkward but contemplative. Then Wade said, “Tell me his name, Livvy, so I can make sure this fool never does this to you again.”
Livvy looked up at Wade, hesitating for a moment, then said, “Carlos Tillman.”
FORTY-THREE
AFTER LIVVY reluctantly gave Wade the address, they pulled up in front of Carlos’s house. Wade was fuming, having to listen to Livvy questioning him all the way over there. “Wade, why are we doing this? What’s going to happen? You aren’t going to hurt him, are you?”
When they pulled to a quick stop at an intersection, Wade spun around to face her. “What do you think I’m going to do? And after what he did to you, you should want me to hurt him, should be praying that I hurt him. What? Is there something still going on between you two? You still have feelings for this man? Because if you want, I can drop everything right now and leave you two alone.”
“No, Wade, it’s not like that. I’ve just known him forever, and …” Livvy trailed off. “But no,” she said, sincerely, “I don’t care nothing about that man anymore.”
“Good,” Wade said, punching the gas pedal and speeding through the intersection. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Wade jumped out of the car so fast after parking in front of Carlos’s house that the push he gave the car door didn’t even close it all the way. It hung slightly open as Wade took the stairs up to Carlos’s door two at a time.
Livvy leaned over the driver’s seat of the car, reached out and pulled the door shut, as she looked on, hoping nothing truly bad would happen.
Wade rang the doorbell, knowing the man was home.
“Yeah, that’s his car,” Livvy had said, when they pulled up. “The Cadillac.”
Wade clenched two anxious fists at his sides, eagerly awaiting the moment he would see this bastard’s face. Wade knew there would be little talking. He stabbed a finger into the doorbell again, ringing it twice this time.
Carlos had beat the shit out of Wade’s girl, and there was no need to find out the reason. All there was need for now was to deliver the punishment, and Wade was ready as he would ever be for that.
Wade heard approaching movement from behind the door, heard locks being turned, and then the door swung open. A man in his mid-thirties, with black wavy hair and a sun-baked gold complexion, stood in front of him. It was no wonder Livvy was taken by this guy. He was good looking, Wade thought. But he wouldn’t be for long.
“Can I help you with something?” Carlos asked.
Wade flashed a quick, fading smile at Carlos, then quickly threw his hand into his chest, grabbing him by his knit pullover, and yanked him out of the house. Wade threw him against the brick wall just beside the door, and he was surprised at how easily he was able to handle him.
He knew he had to have had fifty pounds on the man, but also felt his adrenaline pumping, knew that his rage was fueling his strength as well, and hoped that he could control just how much pain he’d put this man through.
“What the fuck are you—,” Carlos tried to say, shock and anger on his face. But before he could finish, Wade drilled him with a hard shot to his stomach. Air and spittle rushed out of Carlos’s mouth as he was forced over, cradling his middle.