The Game Never Ends

by Zaire Crown

  He said, “Reina is very smart and meticulous.”

  Tuesday shook her head, rejecting that simple explanation. “We’re smart. We’re meticulous. I called for a table around four thirty. This bitch somehow found out, flew up from Texas and set that trap in six hours. Nobody’s that good.”

  Marcus sighed. “Bae, Reina was one of those child prodigies. She graduated from high school when she was thirteen and had a Master’s degree by seventeen. When I met her she was twenty-three and had already earned her second Ph.D.”

  Tuesday was already intimidated by her looks, so hearing that she was also smart did not help her self-esteem. “So what, you sayin’ she like a genius or somethin’?”

  “Well yeah.” Marcus was hesitant. “That’s exactly what she is.”

  Tuesday crossed her arms over her chest. She was trying to decide if he was giving that bitch a compliment or merely stating a fact.

  “She still got a thing for you. She didn’t go through all this just to come pick you up. I know bitches. That was her stuntin’. You see the way she made her entrance. That whole little show was to impress you.”

  Marcus said, “She wanted to impress me but not for the reason you think. While I’ve been retired, she’s been getting stronger—to the point where she has a few cartel bosses in her pocket. That situation at Dominic’s was about showing me her reach, to let me know that she can get to me any time she wants. The only reason I’m not dead already is because she can’t do it. Rene won’t allow it, plus she kinda needs me.”

  Tuesday’s mind was taking her in the wrong direction. “What the fuck she need you for?”

  He explained. “Since forever, the Rodriguez family controlled the border towns—that’s where most of the contraband is being smuggled into the country. Lately the feds been crackin’ down and the pipeline is getting choked off. Reina and her friends have been taking some big losses this year.”

  Tuesday remembered the news story from the previous night and was able to connect the dots. “And you just happen to have a big ass shipping company. They want to use Abel to get their dope into the country.”

  “And to get their money back out to the cartels.”

  Marcus maneuvered the Rolls Royce around a slow-moving Lincoln then took a hand off the wheel to rub Tuesday’s thigh. However, as the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place for her, she got so mad that she pushed it away.

  She glared at him. “You sonofabitch! That’s what this this fuckin’ meeting is all about. They gone ask and you gone say no.”

  She gasped. “And when you do, they gone kill you!”

  Chapter Ten

  Learning that Marcus was going to be assassinated at this meeting wasn’t what pissed Tuesday off the most. The anger that shifted her eye color came when she realized that he had known this entire time.

  She thought back on how he had been lately: pensive, reclusive. It explained why he was dodging his usual responsibilities to spend so much time with their daughters. He had been living like a man who knew he was on borrowed time.

  It also shed light on his ravenous sexual appetite. Over the past month Marcus had been gorging himself on Tuesday the way a condemned man would do a last meal.

  She wanted to slap him. “How long did you know?”

  He said, “It don’t matter.”

  “What the fuck you mean it don’t matter!” she spat. “You just been goin’ through the day-to-day with me and the girls, the whole time knowin’ you got this hanging over you. How could you not tell me? I’m not just some bitch you fuckin’ Marcus. I’m yo’ wife. We got a family.”

  He snapped back at her. “Don’t gimme that bullshit cause we both know you been flaky as hell lately. While you been out turnin’ up wit’ your girlfriend, I been the one at home holding down our family and dealing with this.”

  That was a deep cut which immediately put tears in her eyes. “You wrong for that Marcus. You know good and damn well if I would’da known—” The rest was choked off by sobs. Tuesday turned away from him and began to weep into her palms.

  Marcus dragged a hand across his face knowing it was petty of him to run a guilt-trip. In truth, there had been plenty of chances to tell Tuesday; he had chosen to bear this burden alone. It had nothing to do with the time she was spending with Shaun.

  He felt like shit. “Bae, c’mon.”

  When he reached for her she slapped his hand away. “Pull over. Let me out.”

  “Look baby, I’m sorry for what I said but we not about to do this soap opera shit. You not about to jump out this car downtown at twelve o’clock at night. It’s not happenin’.”

  That was a bluff and she was happy not to get called on it. She wiped her face then sat in the passenger seat, arms folded, pouting like a child.

  For a while the drive was just as silent as when they first left Dominic’s. Only this time the Rolls was not filled with a mutually reflective silence. This was a tension-filled bubble heavy with unvoiced emotions.

  Tuesday habitually checked her mirror to find the dark SUV matching their turns. What the night had first presented as black, artificial light revealed to be a deep burgundy Tahoe. It and a second SUV that Tuesday couldn’t make out kept a distance of about four car lengths.

  At some point she didn’t even realize, she and Marcus’s hands had found each other and laced their fingers. At some point she didn’t even realize, Tuesday stopped being mad at him. She was more frightened than anything else.

  “So what’cho gone do?”

  “I’m going to the meeting,” he said flatly.

  “Well what’cho gone say when they ask about using Abel?”

  Marcus didn’t blink. “I’m basically gone tell ’em to kiss my ass.”

  Tuesday was waiting for him to reveal some plan he had been working on in secret. When he didn’t share anything more, Tuesday couldn’t believe it. “So you’re basically about to walk in there, knowing full well what’s waiting for you?”

  “If I don’t go to them, they’re just gonna come to me.”

  She said, “Just punch it. We could beat them home and get the girls. We could lay low until we figure this out. Hide out for a while on the same island you bought when you needed to dodge the feds.”

  Marcus shook his head. “That was a different situation. The indictment was only about me. Running puts a target on all our backs.

  “And trust me, Reina already got somebody scoping out the house. The clowns following us are just for psychology, a visual message not to try anything. If I mash this gas and try to get light, somebody’ll be kicking in our front door before we cut two corners.”

  “Then fuck runnin’!” she shouted. “We’ll go to war. How ’bout that? If she want it wit’ us, if she want it wit’ Sebastian Caine, we’ll give that bitch what she askin’ for.”

  Marcus just stared at Tuesday for a minute with a look that was a combination of puzzlement and pity. “Tuesday, who in the fuck do you think I am?”

  She couldn’t answer because she didn’t know what to make of the question.

  “I haven’t been that person for a very long time, and the truth is, the Sebastian Caine you believe in never really existed. Even when I was at my worst, I still didn’t do half the shit that got put on my name. Now you talkin’ bout going to war with not just La Guapa, but the other cartel bosses who’s backing her like it’s no problem? You’ve been living with me for three years; do you think I’ve been hiding an army of mercenaries in the basement? There ain’t no button in my office that makes the walls spin to reveal grenades and rocket launchers. Our tennis court ain’t got no supersonic jet hiding underneath it.

  “I’m a family man; I own a business; I pay my taxes. I’m an ordinary dude, Tuesday. And I’m sorry if it fucks up the fantasy for you, but that’s all I’ve ever been.”

  She sat there quietly for a moment, absorbing all that he said. Since she was young, that name Sebastian Caine had been infamous, while the man himself had remained a mystery. Rumor
s had put his hands into everything from casinos to nuclear weapons.

  Even after years of being his woman, she had never been able to separate the man from the myth. Tuesday only realized then how much those stories had distorted her image of Marcus. This was a guy who had succeeded by being elusive and smart but there was nothing supernatural about him.

  Her eyes grew misty again. “Tell me you’ve got somethin’ up your sleeve. Tell me you’re not just about to go in there and hand them yo’ head.”

  He answered the question with his silence. He avoided her eyes, stared through the windshield as if some televised version of his future played out in the distance.

  A sob exploded from her. “I can’t believe this! I can’t believe there ain’t no other way. How are you so cool with this? What about me and Dani and Tanisha?”

  “I already took care of that. You and the girls are gonna be super-straight. The financial stuff is pretty complicated but for the most part, the house, the cars, the company—everything will be in your—”

  Marcus couldn’t believe it when Tuesday stole on him. She punched him in the face and shoulder, causing the Rolls Royce to swerve out of its lane. He corrected the wheel and caught her arm before she could hit him again.

  “Girl, what the fuck wrong wit’ you?”

  “What the fuck wrong with YOU?!” she hissed with heavy breaths. “You think I’m worried ’bout the money? You dumb sonofabitch, I’m worried ‘bout what I’m gone tell these girls when they start askin’ what happened to they Daddy.”

  Marcus had known what she meant from the beginning. This was just part of the conversation he was hoping to avoid.

  He said: “These last three years been the happiest of my life, and you and the girls are the reason for that. Don’t think for a second that I’m cool with this. I’ve just had more time to deal with it.”

  Marcus didn’t drive slow, just at a speed that showed he wasn’t in a rush. Tuesday felt a sickening pain in her stomach when they reached their street and the house came into view. Like Marcus had said, another burgundy SUV was already parked across the street from their home.

  When he pulled onto the grounds, the people trailing them remained outside the front gate. Marcus pulled up their driveway and stopped beneath the lighted portico at the entrance. He and Tuesday sat there for a moment; neither of them wanted to leave the car.

  “You don’t live the life I lived and not expect that shit to catch up to you. There was never gone be a happy ending for me, Tuesday. I always knew I wasn’t riding off into the sunset.

  “I did a lot of wrong—that company is the one thing I ever did that’s wholly about doing good. Sure, it turns a profit, but it’s one of the few large corporations that’s for the right thing. I can’t let that be corrupted, bae. I just can’t.”

  Tuesday shook her head. “I understand how important it is to your legacy that you repair some of the damage you did as Sebastian Caine, but what about your legacy as Marcus King, the father? To your daughters your legacy will be a man who just disappeared out of their lives.”

  “Tanisha’s still young, in time she’ll forget me. It’ll be a lot harder coming up with something to tell Dani. Of all the slimeball shit I ever done, leaving you behind to have that conversation is right at the top.”

  Tuesday glanced down at the Chevy Tahoes waiting at the front gate. Tears blurred her vision. She turned away from them but wasn’t able to look at him either. “Maybe they’ll give you a few minutes just to run in and say goodbye.”

  Marcus cut the engine and dropped the keys into her lap. “I already did. I’ve been sayin’ goodbye to ’em every day for months.”

  When he got out of the car, Tuesday followed right behind him. She grabbed his arm as he started down the driveway.

  “No. No. I don’t believe this. It’s not happening like this. Maybe I don’t know the truth about Sebastian Caine, but I know you. I know you, Marcus.

  “You got a plan. You got some angle you working. You not ’bout to just surrender. That’s not you. You got a plan,” Tuesday almost seemed manic.

  Marcus grabbed her and kissed her lips. He whispered in her ear. “It’s up to you to finish what I started. Protect my shit. You will be tested.”

  Tuesday watched him walk down their drive where two men jumped out of the lead Tahoe to greet him. Marcus held out his arms, submitted himself to a quick pat-down. Then he climbed into the back seat like he was leaving with friends.

  Tuesday just stood in front of her house as the three burgundy SUVs rolled off into the night. She had every expectation of seeing her husband again.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day Tuesday sent Danielle to school and left Tanisha with a sitter. When Danielle asked, Tuesday told her that Daddy had gone on a business trip and would return soon. Tuesday didn’t feel like this was a lie.

  It may have been delusion or just the faith she had in her husband. While understanding he was not superhuman, she knew Marcus to be too much of a tactician to simply walk into his own execution. He would find a way to overcome this the same way he overcame the dope game, overcame his indictment, and overcame the odds by transitioning into a legitimate entrepreneur.

  Over the next few days, Tuesday went about the business of running Abel and being a mother. The combination taxed her patience and nerves but provided enough activity to fill her days. On the home front, Danielle was still trippin’, and it was much worse without Marcus to act as a buffer. At work, she was bombarded with mountains of paperwork, long meetings, and problems that felt like calculus. Luckily, she had Brandon to help steer the ship when the wheel became too much for her to handle.

  The days were difficult, but those calm and quiet nights were by far the worst. Lying in their extreme ultra-king, all Tuesday could do was think of Marcus. Being alone on that massive tenby-twelve-foot bed amplified his absence so much that she opted to sleep in one of the smaller guest bedrooms.

  Tuesday did receive a call from Marcus on the second day. He explained that the family had pulled the plug on Rene shortly after the two had made their peace. He said that out of respect, the meeting was being pushed back until the funeral was done.

  From what Marcus had explained, La Guapa couldn’t harm him as long as her father was living. Despite no longer having that protection, something in Marcus’s voice sounded optimistic when they spoke. This helped to feed Tuesday’s belief that everything would be fine.

  She remained strangely positive even after Marcus stopped calling or answering his phone in the days that followed. Tuesday was sure he would come back with some tale about how he’d outsmarted Reina and her associates then taken them out in one Machiavellian move. They would celebrate as a family, probably spend a day with the girls at Disneyland. That night the two of them would celebrate as a couple by making love in a way that was deep and soulful, reuniting their flesh and spirits.

  Even on the fifth day when Brandon came by the house and tried to shatter the delusion, Tuesday still believed.

  She was standing in the foyer by the entrance when he delivered the news. Tuesday just stared at him, blinking dumbly. She heard the words but they didn’t register. It was if the old man had switched and started speaking a different language.

  He said, “It’s been done. He’s gone. We’ve lost him.”

  Tuesday just smiled at him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tuesday shook her head. “In three days, five at the most, he’s gonna call from some underground bunker. He’s gonna send for me and the girls.”

  The old man’s expression reflected his doubt in the likelihood of that.

  Brandon confessed his information was secondhand since the meeting was so exclusive that even he had not been able to attend. The gist was that, as expected, La Guapa and the other bosses tried to negotiate a deal to use Abel’s importing and exporting network as a vehicle for their product. Despite being offered a generous percentage, Marcus had rejected them. He was determined that his company s
tay one hundred percent legitimate and that conviction had cost him his life.

  Brandon claimed not to be privy to the method, but only knew that Marcus’s death had been quick and painless. Apparently Sebastian Caine’s standing in the game had earned him too much respect to be tortured. Brandon stressed this as if Tuesday should take some consolation in the fact that her husband had not suffered.

  “You know him, Brandon. You know him better than anybody. He always comes up outta this shit. It’s what he does.

  “In a week I’ll take the girls to see the new Pixar movie and Marcus’ll surprise us by popping up in the seat behind ours. You know how he do.”

  Concern drew lines in his face. “Tuesday, I don’t think that’s a healthy attitude to have. We’re better off trying to figure out how we move forward, and what you’re gonna tell your daughters.

  “Personally, I think a plane crash is the best story. A small charter jet goes off-course and gets lost over water—I’ll have to call in some favors, file a bogus flight plan to make it look good, but I can sell that to the public. That’ll explain why there’s no wreckage. It’ll also explain to Danielle why we haven’t got a body to bury.”

  Tuesday wouldn’t budge. “We don’t have his body, and until we do, we don’t know what happened. I’m not tellin’ Dani and Nisha anything more than what I been tellin’ ’em. Their daddy’s away and he’ll be back. Until I know for sure, that’s what it is.” Brandon disagreed but Tuesday didn’t exactly leave that open for discussion.

  Once he left, Tuesday felt a compulsion to start cleaning and just couldn’t stop. Her OCD resurfaced with a vengeance. The house was already immaculately kept by the staff but Tuesday wasn’t satisfied. She went behind them with sanitizer, scrubbing surfaces that were already spotless. She tried to reorganize every cupboard and pantry. Danielle was still ignoring her and Tanisha barely got any attention. Tuesday didn’t sleep or eat, just cleaned for the rest of the day well into the night.