Tyrant

by Tiana Laveen

  “Hey, Olive!” Nita said, sounding chipper as she entered the dining room. “I see you’re up early and—” The woman stopped cold in her tracks when she caught him grabbing a skillet from the lower cabinet and placed it on one of the eyes of the stove. “Uh… hi, Hunter.” Her voice was choppy, like the air had been snuffed out of her. With his back to her, he could only imagine her face right then, probably wild about the eyes, but trying to play it off like all was well. He took out a carton of eggs and a stick of butter from the refrigerator.

  “Hey, Nita… got any pancake batter?” He turned in her direction and the woman looked as if she’d seen a ghost. He winked at her, hoping she’d simply play along. “I stopped by this morning to see you, and Olive was already downstairs. I explained to her that you gave me a key since I’ll be doing some repairs over here. Figured I’d make her some breakfast that’s a little better than those Frosted Flakes before she heads off to school.”

  Nita blinked a few times, straightened her back, and put on a stern, business-like expression that he found funny as hell.

  “Yeah, there’s some in here. I’ll get it for you.” She approached him, reached up on her tippy toes, and grabbed a box featuring a picture of fluffy pancakes soaked in syrup, then handed it to him. “She was already down here?” she whispered.

  “Yup.”

  “Thank you for handling this.” She opened another cabinet, the one that had liked to beat up her fingers before he fixed it, and removed a juice glass.

  “Yeah, it’s handled. You want something to eat?” he offered.

  She shook her head. In reality, Olive had caught him when he was halfway out the door and called out to him. He could see she’d figured out what was going on without him having to explain, and although he’d kept it PG, he made it clear he’d spent some time with Nita since he’d wanted someone to talk to on his birthday. Olive had burst out laughing at his excuse, completely disbelieving his version of events.

  So he’d asked her to keep quiet about it or Nita would lose her shit, especially if Tisha found out and let it slip. He kept cooking through an uncomfortable silence. Then, speaking of the Devil, Tisha joined them when he was almost finished preparing the meal. The girl couldn’t even get in her seat good before Nita began stuttering, running down the story of him stopping by to fix some things and say hi. Tisha and Olive began talking between themselves, the two occasionally glancing at them, then bursting into laughter.

  “All right, what’s so funny? Never mind!” Nita waved her hand dismissively. “You all need to get a move on.” Nita looked down at her watch as he set their plates down. He’d fixed pancakes, scrambled eggs, a few slices of bacon for each of them, and a strawberry for decoration. Trying to be fancy, but also score points with Nita.

  “Wow! This looks great.” Olive said excitedly as she dug in. “Thanks, Hunter,” the girls said at the same time.

  “Welcome.”

  “Mama only cooks like this for us on Sundays,” Tisha said around a mouthful of eggs. “Do you cook other stuff? This is good.” Tisha was gobbling everything up on her plate.

  “I can’t cook that well, but I know how to make breakfast food. You two eat up.”

  “Yes, please do because we have to go,” Nita chimed in. “Let me get my purse, drink some coffee, brush my teeth and we can head out in ten minutes.” Nita was driving them to school, as she always did since they’d started attending the new school she’d enrolled them in. They’d usually get a ride with a friend on the way back. The woman made a mad dash out of there, visibly flustered. As soon as the coast was clear, he leaned against the kitchen counter, ankles and arms crossed, and sipped on his coffee, watching the two giggle boxes carrying on in the dining room.

  “All right, tell me what’s going on.” He entered the dining room and leaned against the arched doorway. He had a sneaking suspicion what this was all about, but he wanted to be certain. Fact of the matter was, Nita had been loud as hell while they’d made love. He’d given up trying to quiet her down… It’s not like this house is a mansion. Every little thing is probably amplified between these walls.

  “We heard you!” Tisha said, her face so red she reminded him of a tomato.

  Olive was now laughing so hard, her mouth was open but no sound came out. All she did was pat the table over and over, rocking about in her chair while the hysterics took her under. “We heard y’all doin’ it! At first we were scared; we thought someone had broken into the house and attacked Mama, but then we heard y’all laughing… and the funny sounds started again. The bed was squeaking real loud. She kept sayin’, ‘Oh God, Oh God!’ over and over!” The two gave each other a look and burst out laughing again, this time almost falling out of their seats. How could he resist? He broke into mirth, his belly aching, then shook his head and forced himself to stop. “Mama is such a bad liar, Hunter!”

  “I agree.”

  They calmed down for a few seconds, but it was short-lived. They began to laugh all over again, unable to stop themselves. He went in the kitchen for a refill of his mug.

  “I figured that’s what it was.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Your mother would be real embarrassed by that. You know how she is.” Tisha nodded in agreement, her face still beat red as tears of humor filled her eyes. “Just keep it to yourselves, please. pretend you don’t know. If you don’t play along, she might not let me come back over and that would upset Tyrant. Tyrant doesn’t want that. Tyrant no like to be upset. Tyrant wants to come back over. Tyrant like Nita, Nita like Tyrant.” He whipped out his best Tarzan impression, tickling them to death.

  Soon Nita returned, her hair in a pretty updo with two braids on the side. She walked past him and filled her cup with coffee. Every now and again, one of the girls would snicker between bites of their food. He put his cup in the sink. Sliding his hand around her waist, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, wanting to do more, but deciding it was better not to stir the pot.

  “I’m heading out to the hospice center. I’ll see you later, all right?” he stated quietly. He gave her another kiss, then headed towards the girls.

  “Have a good day, Olive and Tisha.”

  “You, too!” Tisha replied. He left out the front door and immediately pulled out his phone to call an Uber to take him to his apartment first. He figured he’d pick up his car, visit Noah, run a few more errands, then spend the rest of the day with Nita. As soon as he finished ordering a ride, he noticed a borage of missed text messages.

  Ethan and the boys had been looking for him in the wee hours that morning, wondering where the hell he’d gone. Apparently they’d gotten all riled up and had headed to a strip club as soon as he’d left. He shook his head, laughing, and texted them back as he walked up the street:

  You guys made my night. All of you. Thank you. Sorry I left you high and dry. No need for a search party. I left and decided to spend some time with my girlfriend. Don’t ask me what she looks like, how big her tits and ass are, all that shit. I’ll talk when I’m ready to talk. About to go see Noah. I suggest you all do the same. I know Bruce didn’t know him all too well, but Ethan you definitely need to go. He’s not going to make it and not to sound preachy, but tomorrow isn’t promised to us so make each 24 hours count.

  He slid his phone back into his pocket and just as his Uber pulled up, he could hear in the near distance the girls and Nita piling into her car. He got into the passenger seat of the white Honda, said hello to the young Asian guy behind the wheel, put on his seatbelt, and sat back to enjoy the ride. He had to admit the last twenty-four hours had been some of the best seconds, minutes, and hours of his life…

  …One Week Later

  Nita rested her feet on his lap as they lounged on her couch, the movie they’d been watching over. Some Tom Hanks flick was coming on, but she was distracted. There was an elephant in the room, stomping around, but refusing to believe he wasn’t invisible. She placed her can of Pepsi down on the coffee table and began to stroke the back of the man’s head.
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  “Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter crossed his arms over his broad chest, his green eyes hooded, and he sucked his teeth, looking bored.

  “Nah. I don’t have anything to say.”

  She sat up, grabbed their empty popcorn bowl, and headed to the kitchen. When she returned, he was sliding his hoodie off. He cast it on the loveseat. She sat back beside him, brainstorming on ways to break through his walls, to start tearing them down, brick by brick. She was falling for the man. There was no denying it. Hunter was a complicated being; she knew this from the get go. In some ways, so was she. He didn’t try to hide the fact that he was hard to read at times. He accepted his flaws, and that made him all the more beautiful in her eyes.

  “Hunter.” She tucked her leg beneath herself, propped her elbow on the back of the couch, and rested her head on her hand. “I need you to talk to me. When things happen to you, you have to be able to discuss it. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who does everything on their own, then explodes when things go haywire. That’s the old way you used to handle things. It didn’t work. Now look, I have been opening up to you, admitting things I am not proud of, like how hot-tempered I used to be, and I want you to do the same.”

  He leaned forward and scratched his nose, looking more perturbed by the second.

  “Can we go upstairs? I’m tired.” He yawned.

  “We can, Hunter, but I’m going to ask you the same exact questions up there, too. It doesn’t matter where we move around in the house. This isn’t musical chairs.” He grunted and slouched in his seat, looking straight ahead at the television. “I’m not going to let you woo me into bed, make love to me, and we fall asleep like last night. You like to use some slick tricks to get out of a conversation that needs to be had. I don’t realize sometimes what has happened until right after it’s over, but I’m on to you now.” Sighing, he slapped his thigh, then reached for the remote control and turned off the television. “Now, is it work? Is the new job not what you anticipated?”

  “It’s been fine. I mean, I’ve only been there a few days, had a bit of training. That went well… They actually acted professional, so no, it’s not the job so far. I got my uniform today, took a full tour of the property, shit like that. Met some more of the other guys. There’s a professional boxing trainer I’m scheduled to start up with, too, Wesley, when I’m not on security duty. They’re workin’ it into the schedule. So far, so good… get my first check next week.”

  “Well, that’s good, baby. So, what happened, huh? Why did you come here yesterday looking like you were on fire, and you’re still not acting right? Is it Noah?”

  He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

  “It’s a couple things.” He tapped his foot, as if struggling to let loose. The man hated being vulnerable. Hunter wasn’t someone who expressed himself intimately, unless he was making love to her. In that way, he seemed to feel free, like whatever he said was safe and it would be all right. But those were things about his feelings for her, about how she made him feel. She needed to go deeper. I need to know more…

  “What happened when you visited Noah at the hospital?”

  “It’s fucked up.” He laughed dismally. “Noah doesn’t seem to recognize me anymore. He’s on so much pain medication that he’s either asleep when I go visit him, or he’s out of it. I’m… I’m havin’ trouble with this.” He brought his cigarette back to his lips, then breathed out more smoke.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I don’t like losin’ people I’m close to. No one does, I guess. But see, I don’t get real close to people that often and it seems when I do… they… never mind. Baby, I know you mean well but this just isn’t for me.”

  “How can talking not be for you, Hunter? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “This is dumb, some romper room bullshit. Just give me some time and I’ll be fine. Can we go upstairs now?” he stated angrily. But when he turned and looked at her, his eyes welled with sadness.

  He thinks he can fuck the pain away. He can’t. After he cums, it’ll still be there.

  “Okay, baby, let’s try this. I want to know more about you as a person, okay? You said you’re tired of losing people. That brings me to something important. Tell me about your parents. I know you were raised by your grandparents, but you never told me why? Where were your mother and father? Why didn’t they have custody of you?”

  He took a minute to speak, first staring into space, then leaning back and resting his head against a pillow. The cigarette dangled from between his fingers and his camo print cargo pants rustled as he moved. His muscles glistened, the tattoos beautiful across his tanned flesh.

  “If I tell you, will you let me take you upstairs?”

  “Hunter.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be like this.”

  “Shit, I’m serious. I didn’t say we had to fuck; I just wanna lie down and be quiet. Is that too much to ask? Silence is precious… Look, Nita, I don’t want to get into a long-drawn-out discussion about this. I can talk to you, but I don’t want this to feel like a therapy session.”

  “What’s wrong with that?! Lots of people talk things out, even the stuff they think is embarrassing or won’t change.”

  “I’m not like a lot of people – that shit doesn’t help me, yapping about the past. Big fuckin’ deal. We can’t change it. In fact, talking about it just makes me madder.” His tone was full of venom.

  “If we don’t communicate, then we don’t really know one another. Period.”

  “I understand that, but we do communicate. It’s just that this is a dead-end conversation.”

  “But see, Hunter, you don’t have the right to determine that on your own. You can’t dictate what’s important for me to know and not know when I ask you what’s wrong. Do you have any idea how I feel about you?” He looked at her as if trying to read her mind. “Let me help you out here. I am becoming attached to you.” She hated how her voice shook. “Not dependent, but attached… I look forward to your calls. I love how Olive lights up when you text her and send her photos of Noah to keep her up to date. I like how you kiss me… how you make me laugh! I’ve been under so much stress, baby, and you literally walked through that door and changed my world. It was like you had an invisible axe, and you started swinging, knocking some of my troubles away, even the ones I didn’t know I had. You are a man of action. I get it. You think talk is cheap. But it’s not cheap all the time, Hunter. It can be very expensive, especially when it pertains to the shit that hurts us deep within, and that’s why you don’t want to pay your bill.” He dropped his head. She placed her hand on his wrist. “If you want me, you have to learn how to speak. Not to my ears… but to my heart.” He was quiet for a long while…

  “All right. I’ll do it. I’ll talk to you about whatever it is you wanna know.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Nita, I don’t like talking about shit like this a lot, because it is what it is… but I understand your curiosity. You care about me. I get it. You don’t think it’s fair for me to not discuss it. I don’t get why, but never mind…” He swallowed, then ran his hand along his neck as if working out a kink. “I know why I’m upset. It’s like things have come full circle…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something is happening, and in some ways, it reminds me of something else that happened.” He leaned forward with a sigh, as if exhausted. After a brief silence, he began to speak again. “JJ, when I was a little kid, my parents fought a lot. They were both drug addicts, my father a bit worse off than my mother, according to my grandmother.” He took another puff of his cigarette, now staring blankly at the television set. “From my understanding, neither of them were on anything when they first met. Then, as time passed, my father got hooked, and introduced my mother to it. He changed. The drugs did it, or maybe that’s who he was all along… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Sometimes people say shit like, ‘The drugs made me do it.’ But we really don’t know that in all cases, now do
we? Anyway, I would see my father knock my mother’s fuckin’ teeth out with his fist. This wasn’t a one-time thing. My mother had all kinds of dental work done, fighting with him.

  “He’d blacken her eyes, punch her in the stomach. One time, she ended up miscarryin’. I vaguely remember that… She told me she was pregnant, and I was excited because I was going to be a big brother.” He smiled sadly. “But then she was rushed to the hospital after one of their fights, and that was all over.”

  Pain radiated in her chest. She tried to play off her reaction, but the man wasn’t fooled. Hunter was so perceptive, he knew she felt something – something horrible that knocked the wind out of her.

  “This went on for years,” he continued. “I did eventually become a big brother. As you know I have a brother named Justin, but, uh, that was from my father running around, cheating on my mother. Anyway, that’s another story for another day. So, my grandmother said that I had been removed from their house three times by Child Protective Services, but I don’t remember. My parents were like two magnets. They couldn’t leave each other alone.

  “They’d break up, get back together, break up, and on and on it would go in a constant cycle. My initial love of boxing came from my father. He used to box, back when he was healthy. He would sit in the living room, drinking, and have me watch Rocky movies with him, or live fights on Pay-Per-View. It’s the only happy time I recall with him… when he wasn’t yelling, arguing or fighting with my mother, drugged up or drunk. That was our bonding time, I guess you could say. My father is a big man with no heart…”

  He shook his head and paused, but only briefly.

  “He’s six-five, like me, strong. My mother was only five-six, a little skinny thing too, and he’d hit her like she was a fuckin’ heavyweight champion.”

  He suddenly sat up, gave his cigarette one more drag, then crushed it into an ashtray before flopping back against the couch. “Despite all of that, the drugs, the crazy shit that happened, I loved my mother very much. She and I were very close. She’d tell me she was going into rehab, and she was honest with me. She’s say, ‘Hunter, Mommy does bad things to herself, and it’s not your fault. Mommy is sick. Mommy needs help.’ She was so damn self-aware, it was scary and you know what? She’d go…