A Desert King's Obsession

by Christine Gray

  “Pizza?”

  I could feel the heat of her gaze on my bare chest when I strolled into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, with mushrooms this time,” she demanded.

  “Fine. You order then.”

  “What do you want?”

  Leaning back on the counter, “I eat it all.”

  Chione’s hand slowed on its way to deliver her cell to the side of her head to speak. Openly, her eyes dropped to my sweatpants. We both could hear the rings echoing through her cell. Minutes later, we found ourselves staring at each other once the pizza order was taken.

  “Why do we keep playing games?”

  Tilting her head, she smirks. “Nah, Chadli, there’ll be no changing the rules.”

  “Don’t play like you don’t want me to toss you on this island.”

  “Oh, shit, I would love to crush your face with my thighs. I would ride the hell out of your face, but I know it’s not a good idea.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “It would open a jar of shit that we both don’t want sticking to us. That’s why.”

  “Speak for yourself, Chione. All I dream about is getting nasty and sticky with you. I don’t mind you marking me as yours.”

  “Lying to get the kitty don’t seem like your way of doing things, Chadli,” she teased. A second, she rolled her eyes. “Come on, man. In a week, this is turning back to the pumpkin. You’re going back to your life, and the fantasy will be shelved for another year.”

  “So, you’re okay with all of this just friends bullshit? You never wanted more?”

  “Why mess with it?” She shrugged.

  Narrowing my eyes, I take in Chione dressed in the see-through, white maxi dress. Anger I had been tramping down comes to the surface. “Why have you never asked what I’m doing when I’m gone?”

  “Because I already know you’re fuckin’ around,” she answered. “I know you’re living miles up the road in your place too,” she sassed.

  I had no idea what I was doing. The voice in my mind was screaming for me to just shut up. I don’t have to tell her who I really am. I’m sure if I walked over, forced my hand between her legs, Choine would spread them to give me what I wanted. Who cares if she thinks she’s fuckin Chadli instead of giving it up to me? Yet, I want Chione to want me, see me, not the lie.

  My lips moved on their own accord.

  “I’m not Chadli. Chadli is my twin brother I swap with for a month each year. I’m actually Sheikh Shahid Rajput.”

  Even though I couldn’t hear myself speak my true name and title, I knew I just let the cat out of the bag.. Chione chuckled. Then she stopped for her eyes to grow wide. Bowing her head, she typed on her cell, only to freeze. Snapping her head up to steal a glimpse of me, then back to her phone, her mouth moved again, but I couldn’t hear. It took her fist slamming into my chest to switch my ears back on. When she held her cell next to my head, I knew she had Googled me to check my claim. It was then that the realization of what I’ve done hits me and the use of my hearing came flooding in.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit! I mean Jesus!” she rants, still holding up the cell. She snatches it away to gawk at the picture of me. “This is you?” she whispers while pointing at the phone. “I mean, your hair is short and not in a bun and, and your beard isn’t as bushy. Oh!” she cries. “Is that why you always stop shaving around the last week we’re together? It’s ‘cause you’re growing it back out.”

  “Chione, you’re talking and breathing too fast. Slow down before you pass out.”

  She batted my hands away. “Nah, Nah.” Chione paced away. “But I saw you. I saw you at work…working as a lawyer. I saw you with some dark-haired hoe, so how can—”

  “Chione, I’m not talking to you until you calm down.”

  “Okay, okay,” she promised.

  Taking a deep breath, she touched a hand to her forehead. I could barely understand what she was mumbling under her breath to herself. For a few minutes, I remained in the kitchen after she stumbled out as she conversed with herself. I need to figure out if I had made a big mistake or if this was the beginning to what I’ve been longing for.

  Pulling into the parking garage of the business office across the street, I guess I got my answer to that question, now. Oh, the rest of the vacation last year had brought with it an ease of knowing my truth. Chione had bombarded me with questions that kept us busy and made sure the tables were never flipped to allow me to get her to confide. For months, we had seemed to be getting closer when we spoke over the phone. We still kept talking in code and in circles, but there was a new element mixed in there. All of a sudden, one call, one question, one answer, and it all changed.

  “You must be Mr. Rajput. Or do you prefer, Mr. Chadli?”

  “I prefer to be speaking with Devon,” I reply to the stiff handshake of the receptionist. “I’m on a tight schedule,” I amend for my rudeness.

  “Yes, yes, of course. Um,” she says while craning her neck around a corner. “This way please.”

  I follow in the direction of her hand gesture. The place could have doubled as a car dealership from the open layout of offices lining the hallway. Each had large windows to make the dealings going on within, transparent for all to see. My large strides bring me to the open door steps before her.

  “Mr. Brown, M—”

  “Rajput, I alerted you of my arrival,” I finish for her.

  Scanning the office space, I take note of the dapper man sitting in the corner that I’m sure is Devon’s attorney.”

  “Nice to meet you. This is—“

  “No need to introduce him. I know who he is and why he’s here,” I state nodding my head at the silent man. “I’m here to find out how a condo I’m leasing for a friend is being rented out to strangers?”

  My question causes Devon to stiffen before he clamps his mouth shut. Shifting his gaze to the receptionist he commands, “You can leave now. You both can. I won’t be needing you for this,” he informs the man in the chair.

  Devon tries not to sweat out of fear of knowing the eyes of his fellow coworkers were on him. Silly fuck didn’t seem to realize the threat was in the office with him.

  “The address in question?” he begins cautiously.

  “So, you have more than one place you’re running this scam on?”

  “Sir, it isn’t a scam. I have an honest claim to all the properties I rent.”

  I chuckle. “That talking white shit must go a long way for you, huh? If I were to go to Big Daddy Brooks and ask him about this policy, the man won’t even know what the fuck I was talking about.”

  “Your information is flawed. We rent prop—”

  “Not by the week or month. You think I didn’t already call posing as a buyer to get the details? Come on now.” I smirk.

  “The address?” he orders, still keeping up with his act.

  “Monaco Yacht Club on Lincoln Road.”

  That got him changing his tune. Dropping his gaze, he sighs. The next time he spoke, he lost the spit shine, crisp speech. “Chione asked me to handle renting it out for her. A place like that, all I saw was dollar signs,” he admits.

  “Did you know I was leasing it?”

  “I knew there was some kinda hustle going on there. The place was too much for her to have picked up. Then again, dealing with Chione, you know she’s got more up her sleeve than she lets on. After she gave me a lease with her name on it, that’s all I needed to cover my ass.”

  Rubbing my chin, I take a moment to chill.

  “All right, so you managed the renting as a side thing. How did she get her cut?”

  “She received it through BlueBird. It’s a bank card you can get from any Walmart. The money is deposited on that card.”

  “Walmart card?” I repeat in disbelief.

  “Yeah, and it’s backed by American Express, so she can use it anywhere. Smart really.” He nods.

  The more people praising Chione for her shiftiness, it only pisses me off more.

  �
��How do you know Chione?”

  The question instantly brings back up the wall, and the cold, standoffish vibe Devon had from square one.

  “Listen, we go way back. She’s had my back too many times for me to go and sell her out. She came to me, asked me to do her a favor, and I did. I got nothing else to say beyond that,” he states firmly.

  I don’t know if I should admire the young jit or lose sleep trying to find a perfect way to destroy him?

  “Give me the account information for the deposits, and I’ll let it go. As for the place, this shit stops after the three Stooges are gone.”

  “Thank you. If you think the account info will help…”

  Devon doesn’t have to explain his smirk. We both know the information is going to produce nothing at all. For shits and giggles, I try Chione’s cell again. This time I get a disconnection alert.

  5

  CHIONE

  Counting to ten, I quickly switch my line off. It seems like life moves at a snail’s pace whenever I’m on the phones. I was never one to hate work, but this kind of work seems to vex my brain. The things people call for, the time they waste, having to fulfill their needs is annoying as hell. The few calls that are fun and easy don’t equal to all the shitty ones. Then again, I thank God for the gig.

  It’s funny that I had gotten it by taking Shahid’s advice of getting to know some of the students in my class. What he had said to get me to show my hand last year ended up being a blessing. Thanks to the middle-aged woman who was going back to school, I was given the hookup with this work-from-home job. It had come right on time too. I have to make sure that funds are still coming once the condo thing comes to an end. Unlike last year, I don’t have the way to change things around and clean it up to keep the lie going.

  Pushing back from my desk, I toss my headset to the table. Bracing on the arm, I ease myself to my feet.

  Last year, I think.

  So much has changed since then. So much has happened. I take my time walking over to the window to peek through the blinds. My dark eyes survey the landscape that’s a far cry from the upscale residence on the water I was living in one upon a time. The elderly try their best to navigate around the ignorance of some of the street tenants that linger around the complex at all times of the day. I do my best to stay to myself and mind my business. If I think things are getting out of hand, I call the front office or the cops to handle shit.

  Hell, I learned my lesson of trying to be Mrs. Fix-It Sue. Fuckin’ with my dad taught me one helluva life lesson that I know I won’t ever be able to recover from. If my ma wanted to be his constant hero, she could be my guest. As a matter of fact, I’ll never know from here on out ‘cause I’ve cut her off too. For a while, out of sight, out of mind. I gotta take care of me, you know. Fuck, I wish I would have had that awakening long before now. Maybe if I had, I would have told Shahid everything, but now, I don’t even know what to think about it.

  Glancing at the wall clock, I notice that the speed of time had been restored. Go figure when I’m on break, right? Ten of my fifteen were gone already. With a deep eye roll, I shuffle back to my chair. Going boneless, I plop down into the seat. Looking down, I feel the tears welling up. For the millionth time, I give in to the desire to break. Through the tears, I look around myself-imposed hell. Killing off one person and taking on a new one hadn’t changed a damn thing this time.

  Shaking it off, I remind myself I have to have my shit together to log back onto the phones. I experience the same sinking feeling as before, followed by a hunger to be recused.

  Swiping up my cell, I read the text from hours earlier.

  He’s searching for you. Now, you know I’m not going to get on his fucked list, right?

  Not caring anymore, I finally respond.

  Whatever. If he comes, do whatcha gotta do.

  “Please come, Shahid,” I pray through cracked lips.

  He won’t stay. Not now.

  Refusing to give the nagging voice in my head a stage to continue, I place my headphone on and log on. At least for the next four hours, these assholes will give me something else to focus on.

  SHAHID

  You fuckin’ kidding me.

  I’m sure Chione didn’t have a hand in what I’m seeing, but I have to wonder. Killing the engine, I lean over the steering wheel. Blinking, I read the For Sale sign for the fifth time. I know this isn’t a joke. Opening the car door, the abandoned car lot that was normally packed at this time of day is proof. The mighty King of Diamonds Strip Club is closed down.

  Making a full circle, I turn to see emptiness in every direction. From the weather-warped wooden boards on the windows, the closing hadn’t happened in the last few weeks. I’m talking months at best. Punching away on my cell, I glimpse up at the sound of voices.

  “Hey! Hey, you!” I shout.

  The two men walking down the street pause to look in my direction. Fishing in my pocket, I pull out a few dollars to keep their attention. “You know why they closed?”

  Closing the distance, I make sure they see the crisp bills in my hand.

  “Man, I don’t know the ins and out. I heard the dude was big pimpin’ and couldn’t pay the bills.”

  “Yeah,” interjected his friend. “But that raid fucked him too. Cops found drugs and shit, but them hoes were selling pussy from the back room too, so…”

  The long pause signaled that nothing more was to be added. With a sigh, I pass the bills over, placing one in each hand.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  Going back to my cell, I continue my search. There are a few articles in the Miami Herald pertaining to the closing of the club. My eyes move quickly, half reading the filler information to fluff up the piece. It wasn’t until the second to the last column that I found interesting. For sure, there had been a bust, but it was just a stroke of bad luck that exposed the under-handed shit going on in the club. It was a fight or as one reporter called it, an attack on one of the girls, caused a riot that led to the police swarming.

  I’m so fuckin’ keyed up that I could start a goddamn riot. For the life of me, I wonder where’s a carjacker when you need one. Standing out in the open, alone in an abandoned parking lot with the door open to a $70 thousand car behind me, I’m the perfect target. Yet, the reason to fuck somebody up isn’t presented. Right now, all that’s missing is a tumbleweed to blow by, it’s so dead on the block.

  You know how you search to find the right word, an adjective to describe your emotions, but none seem to do the feelings justice. Well, livid, yeah, I’ll stick with that one at the moment. I’m livid that Chione has outsmarted me for this long. I’m livid that her ass is making me work, really work to locate her. Fuckin’ livid that those who can put an end to this cat-and-mouse bullshit are playing the game right along with her.

  “Fuckin’ livid that I have to go to these lengths. I swear to God if all this shit got to do with a dick, I’m going to kill him and… “Yas,” I say when the owner of the cell I had called picks up. Speaking in my tongue, “I’m going to need you. No, stay at the hotel for now. Once you find her, we’ll mount up.” I instruct, getting into the car, “Hack into her school account. See if you can figure out her IP address. I have an account that you might be able to narrow her down with too.”

  I’m half listening to whatever Yas is saying to the others in the room. Forcing myself to breathe, I fill my lungs with air. I should be able to relax, knowing that Yas is on the case. His nerdy, hacking ass is going to find Chione. My thing is I pray to Allah I can control my wrath once I get her in arms reach. Not only that, my list of ‘ fuck you up’ has grown to include Cheryl, Ray, and anyone else I find is involved.

  With that thought in mind, I voice command for a number to be dialed. Slow anger begins to simmer under the surface when once again, I go straight to fuckin’ voicemail.

  “Ray, you still ignoring me, huh? No worries, effendi. I’ve found Chione. Just want you to know there’s no need calling after I’ve gotten her, but
I will be paying you a visit before I leave.”

  With that done, I turn on the music. In no time, a burden is lifted off of me. Shit, I’m actually tapping the wheel and singing along. Hell, I’m laughing with a shit-eating grin for sure after a text is received.

  Quick Drink your place @ 7

  “That’s what I thought, motherfucker.” I chuckle.

  I might have gotten enjoyment from watching my father try and fail with my ma. There were a few times I couldn’t contain my laughter, but overall, I just watched the two go at each other. It wasn’t long until what seems to be the way with these two happened. Ma and Father tend to forget that poor Cleveon is even in the room. Oh, the man tries to remind them by placing his hand on Ma or putting his two cents in. It works for a moment, but then Father makes sure to command Ma’s attention, and honestly, I don’t think she minds it.

  She’s giving him hell, though. Never have I seen anyone, especially a woman, make this man sweat and swarm. I mean he’s pulling out all the stops. That alone is comical to witness. It’s a welcome from the shit weighing down on my mind. I wonder what I’m going to have to face once I see Chione later tonight. Hell, what I might do. Even still, I lean back in the chair, sipping on my fourth whiskey, something I really don’t need, as I listen to the voices around me.

  I gotta say I really don’t like Cleveon. No, that’s not coming from a son’s perspective. It’s coming from an anyone-with-a-brain point of view. Know how you can look at a person and in spite of all the things they do to seem important, you can pick up they aren’t shit? Well, I’m getting one helluva vibe from this dick. He says the right things, appears to be caring, but there are those moments when things fall out of sync with him and Ma. I don’t know what it is. Frankly, it’s Father’s job to figure it out, but I catch it.