Tyrant

by Tiana Laveen

  He stared down at his friend, his hand now on the man’s shoulder.

  This can’t end like this… I have to do something… I have to let him know I’m going to make this right…

  He leaned down and whispered in Noah’s ear, knowing it would be the last time he’d speak to the man alive. He only hoped that his best friend could still hear everything he was saying, and understand him, so he took his chances and spoke his truth.

  “Brother, you go on if you need to. I feel like… I feel like you’re still here for us. Nita, that’s my girlfriend, she told me something today that I wasn’t in the mood to hear, but I hope it’s true. She said, ‘Where Noah’s headed there’s no more prisons, no diseases, no heartache, no more pain.’ I hope that where you’re going there are just canary yellow Thunderbirds and midnight-blue Mustangs. I’ll look after Olive, all right? I promise to look out for her, Noah. I’ll check on your mom, too, and Kylie. That’s what brothers do… and I won’t let you down…”

  He sat back down next to the man, the minutes traveling by. Song after song played on his phone – he’d lost track. He hungered for a cigarette but refused to move. He stood post. About an hour later he was awakened from a soft slumber from a bright light and a hushed voice. The nurse was tending to Noah and one of the machines was making a strange noise. She whispered to him but he didn’t catch what she said.

  “Is he gone?” His voice quaked as he filled with panic. Her expression was sweet, gentle.

  “His heart stopped about thirty-seven seconds ago.”

  Hunter made a mad dash up the stairs and began to bang on bedroom doors.

  “Come downstairs! Come on, get up. Wake up. Let’s go.” He hauled ass back down to the living room and Kylie was waking up, her hair disheveled and confusion coloring her face. “Noah’s passing.”

  He returned to the small room to be by his friend. The nurse was now on the phone and had tucked the sheets over him. Olive, his mother, and Kylie entered the room and soon, the space exploded in hysterical crying. He was standing with his arms crossed when Kylie raced past him, almost knocking him over to get to Noah. She draped herself over him, screaming, crying, falling apart.

  “No! No! Nooooo….”

  Olive was no better, joining her as Noah’s body took a beating from their frenzy. Noah’s mother had on a long light blue nightgown. She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Hunter picked his cellphone up and played Eminem’s, ‘Not Afraid.’

  “He wants this played at his funeral. He told me.” He grabbed Olive from the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back so tight, it shocked him how badly her grief took his breath away. He ran his hand over her head as his gaze drifted to Noah. Dead.

  “Noah, you showed everyone how it’s done. You’re not afraid. You weren’t a pussy in this life, except when it came to Olive not believing in you anymore.” He paused and kissed Olive’s cheeks, smiling down into her big blue eyes. “I’m not her father, Noah. I’m no one’s father, but I respect that fear now. I understand, regardless of whether it was right or wrong. I understand the fear of disappointing someone who depends on you, someone you love. She was your only kryptonite.” Olive sobbed harder. “You were one of the bravest men I ever knew…” His voice trembled as wetness clung to his cheeks. “You looked death in the face and said, ‘Fuck you.’” He shot his middle finger in the air. “See you on the other side one day, street soldier. I’m holding it down for you, locked and loaded, leading the pack…”

  Hunter looked almost beautiful in his dark suit. His hair was cut into a short Caesar, facial hair trimmed to perfection, and was polished and well put together from head to toe. During the service, he’d shared a story about him and Noah that had the entire place roaring with laughter. It involved a paint ball gun and a banana, and it definitely helped lighten the somber mood. He’d been a pallbearer along with five other strong men, all friends and family, and he seemed to be adjusting fine, despite the gravity of the situation and cloud of depression that loomed over them.

  Now he was nowhere to be found.

  Where is he now? Perhaps he’d stepped out to smoke? Nita stood inside of the packed church where no one appeared to want to leave quite yet.

  The funeral was over. The White minister with a touch of Southern twang to his voice had spoken, people shared kind words about Noah, and oddly enough, a motorcycle gang had shown up too, only long enough to pay their respects. Evidently Noah had had many associations. He must have known all of Detroit. Whispered jokes were made about all the women dressed to the nines at the funeral. Yeah, the ladies loved Noah; there were even a couple Black ones in the mix.

  Nita smiled sadly as she looked at a photo montage of the man while food was being served in the dining area – the same one played during the service.

  It began with photos of him as a baby, growing into a cute little boy, a lanky teenager, then a man. A few of the pictures had been taken in prison. The older he got, a little more light was gone from his eyes. Strange how she noticed that. Maybe I was looking for it? Maybe I’m afraid the same thing happened to Hunter… A few photos did in fact include Hunter. In one of them they were around fifteen years old, both skinny and tall with baby faces. Mischievousness shone in their eyes.

  She navigated through the crowd to Olive who was with Tisha and a bunch of other young ladies from their old high school. Olive was smiling and noshing on an orange slice. She hadn’t been able to hold up too well during the funeral. In fact, Nita had to escort her out at one point and hold on to her tight, but now she appeared much calmer.

  “Olive, do you need anything, baby?” she asked.

  “No, I’m fine, Ms. Nita. Thanks though.”

  She patted the girl’s shoulder and kept moving, working her way over towards a window. She looked out at the parking lot. Some were driving away after a long day, others were talking and hugging each other goodbye. I still don’t see Hunter. She thought about texting him, but figured he may have wanted a minute alone. Alone was his thing, especially as of late. He’d withdrawn a bit, but she understood. He was hurting. That morning they’d made love, he wouldn’t look at her the whole time. He’d woken her up with that first hard thrust… the one that always took her breath away. The man had managed to mount her without rousing her, buried his face in the crevice between her shoulder and neck, and with slow, deep plunges, he’d rocked inside her, then came quietly…

  Hunter, where are you? She shook her head then glanced at her phone to check the time. Tomorrow she had to go into work, and then figured she’d drive over and visit her parents for a bit. She wished to introduce them to her boyfriend, but with everything going on and the holidays coming up, it just wasn’t a good time. She’d taken two days off to help Olive and Hunter with the final arrangements, and now, things were over. Or were they? Something was in the air; a new day was starting. She prayed that Hunter would learn to let go and talk to her more when he suffered emotionally, but she accepted him as he was, in spite of it all…

  The sounds of the machines going full blast rang in Hunter’s ears. After checking the time, he gave a co-worker a nod then walked around the casino on full alert.

  “Hey there, Hunter.” A White guy with a gold tooth and chunky chain around his neck, one of the regulars, smiled at him. Wearing a flashy white Miami Vice type blazer, Ricky was an older man with tanned skin and an Elvis hairstyle, only it was all silver.

  “Hey, Ricky, what’s up?” The two slapped hands.

  “Nothing much.” The guy scratched his hairy chest, visible from the open button-down shirt, and waved a lit cigar. He looked like he had something to say. Word had been spreading like butter on bread that Ricky had something he might need, but he was biding his time. The man looked about, smoking his stogie. Ricky was a big-time gambler with his hands in many pies. He was originally from New Jersey but rumor had it he’d left there in a hurry after running some big scam and taking off with close to a million dollars. Either way, the man w
as a Blackjack genius and known to drive fine cars and hook up with women half his age. He was also damn good at placing bets, and rich as hell.

  “Hunter, I heard something about you.”

  “Yes, my dick is big, but that’s none of your fuckin’ business.” The two burst out laughing, but kept their sights straight ahead.

  “I spoke to Wesley, Hunter, and he said you had a good sparring match down at the gym.”

  “Yeah?” Hunter watched for any suspicious activities.

  “Yeah… he said you’re a fuckin’ natural. An animal in the ring. Said he hasn’t had someone like you in a long while. You hit hard. You hit fast. You move like lightning. The bastards never see you coming until it’s too late. Put some fucker to sleep. Nighty fuckin’ night.”

  “Maybe he just took an Ambien sleeping pill.”

  “Maybe he took a ‘Tyrant the Wolfe’ tablet and ended up kissin’ the middle of next week. You’re a beast workin’ the dials of a fuckin’ time machine.”

  “You don’t say.” Hunter cracked his knuckles. He knew what was next, and was ready for it.

  “I understand that the head of security, the Indian guy, Johnny, Mr. Big Time for Crime, has you training. Gonna start you out local and see how that goes and spread you out. Is that true?” He offered him a fresh cigar.

  “I can’t smoke them during work hours, but I’ll save it for later. Thanks.” Hunter took the cigar from the man and slipped it into his pocket. “Yeah, it’s true. Johnny hired Wesley to train me. Why do you want to know?”

  “Because if you’re as good as he says, I could make sure you got more money. See, if you win a fight, Wesley is going to take a pretty decent sized cut, Johnny is going to take half the damn pie, then they have to pay the promoters, the casino, all of that shit, and that’ll leave you with nothing but licking the spoon tryna guess what flavor it was.”

  “I see where you’re going with this. I know how to make money, Ricky. I like to box, but I’m not trying to dedicate my life to it so—”

  “You don’t have to make it a lifelong career. I’m not even asking you to leave Johnny. Stay with him, but let me see you fight. If you’re as good as he says, I want you to do a match for me. It’s against a local guy, Zion Daniels.”

  “I’ve heard of him. Good record. He’s at the top of his game. Quick with it.”

  “Yeah, he’s good. The two of you going toe-to-toe might be epic. You’re both rough, street bred.”

  “I’m under contract. I can’t do any fights without Johnny knowing about it. If I do, it could put a lot of sponsorships at risk.”

  Ricky chuckled and shook his head. “I want you to stay with Johnny, trust me. That’ll help you build a larger boxing reputation. It would be more money for us all.”

  “More money, huh? Yeah… I’ve heard that before.” Hunter sucked his teeth.

  “I’m serious, Hunter. You’re the new kid on the block, but looks like this side gig of yours has a lot of promise. Besides, it would be behind closed doors… top secret. Smallish crowd of sports bettors. Elite. Millionaires. I’m always looking for new talent. I’m actually relying on you doing well under Johnny’s lead and with his team.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because then, you’ll build an even larger reputation.”

  Hunter fixed his gaze on the man for a moment. “I heard something about you, too.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I heard you’ve got a big shot brother who moved here with you. I heard he works in the Detroit penal system now.”

  “Yeah, he does.” The guy puffed on his cigar. “Ironic, isn’t it? I’m Mr. Renegade, and that’s my brother, Mr. Law.” He chuckled. “I take it you need a favor. Want to get word to a friend?”

  “Something like that…”

  They were both quiet for a bit.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Drew Dowery. He’s in the Michigan Department of Corrections but got transferred recently.”

  “I see… so, uh, you’re sayin’ you’ll wash my back if I wash yours.”

  “Yup.”

  “What kind of favor for this Drew person, huh?”

  “I just need five minutes alone with him…”

  The silence lasted a mighty long time then.

  “I’ll look into it. Can’t make any promises. That’s a tall order.”

  “You do that.”

  Suddenly, his walkie talkie buzzed.

  Hunter slid it off his hip and turned away from Ricky.

  “Hunter Wolfe here on 2.3… Copy.”

  “Wolfe, this is Anderson on 2.9. West side of poker… guy in green ball cap slid something out of his sock. Looks like a playing card.”

  “I’m on it…”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I’m in Love With Superman

  Nita woke up to the sounds of ‘I Choose You,’ by Willie Hutch, and screamed. All around her bedroom were white Christmas garlands, gold and silver angels, tinsel carefully placed all the way up to the ceiling and decorations galore. Giggling, she crept out of the bed and immediately drowned in the scent of French toast and maple syrup. She could hear the girls and Hunter talking downstairs, then all three burst out laughing. Taking quiet steps to the living room, she caught them helping the man to hang ornaments. She gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.

  There, in the corner of the room, was one of the most beautiful trees she’d ever seen.

  “Mama!” Tisha turned around, her grin so big it seemed it would split her face. “Hunter decorated the whole house, Mama! He even snuck in my and Olive’s room last night and put a little white tree in there with little white lights. It’s so pretty. Look at this big ass tree right here!”

  “Girl, if you don’t stop cussin’!”

  “It’s big as shit, isn’t it, Tisha?” Hunter egged on, causing the girls to laugh. “It’s amazing how fast the prices go down when you get a tree on Christmas Eve.”

  “Where’s the tree that I had up?” she asked, giving up on chiding the lot.

  “Oh, the artificial one that looked like it had been set on fire?” That caused a lot more laughter at her expense. “That ugly thing is in the trash.”

  She fought the urge to curse him out right there on the spot. Yes it had been a sad little thing, but she thought it cute, in its own special way.

  The big man checked out the Christmas tree proudly. “This here is more like it. Fit for a king. Come here and give me a kiss.”

  Her cheeks warmed as she made her way over to him, wrapped her arm around his waist, and offered a peck on the lips.

  “Tyrant, how about we put the gold ornaments on there, too? That would look nice with the silver and green ones, I think.” Tisha stated.

  “The box is over there.” The man pointed at the couch where a few boxes of unopened decorations were sitting. “But don’t put too many. You want them all spaced out well.”

  “Well, aren’t you Mr. Christmas,” Nita teased as she offered another kiss. He took it and smiled down at her, giving her a squeeze. “How long have you been up?”

  “I never went to sleep,” he whispered.

  She took a step back from him when the girls rushed over, nudging her out of the way to put the gold ornaments up. The man had been restless all evening. When she tried to talk about it with him the night prior, he denied that anything was wrong… but she knew better. Perhaps the holidays brought a fresh wave of hurt for him. Noah had been laid to rest not too long ago and though Hunter seemed to enjoy his job, it was getting busy and he was training for a fight. He’d even cut down on the cigarettes in preparation, which made him a bit more antsy as of late.

  “My parents are stopping by to drop off some gifts for Tisha and Olive.” She headed to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee he’d brewed.

  “I thought I was supposed to meet them this evening for dinner at their house? You said your favorite aunt and a few of your cousins would be there, too.”

  “Yeah, they wil
l be. My sister Naomi said she can’t make it this year but I hope she can swing through for New Years. My parents just want to stop by is all. They like to give Tisha her gifts early.”

  “Let me go shower real fast then and get dressed.” He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts with a black robe on top.

  “Okay.” She half-listened to the girls speaking to one another when she made it to the kitchen, then found one of her plates with two pieces of French toast, scrambled eggs, and three strips of bacon.” This man spoils me… She smiled as she picked up the plate and began to eat, leaning against the counter and enjoying the tune of ‘Fish Ain’t Bitin’’, by Lamont Dozier. She put the plate down and snapped her fingers. “Haven’t heard this song in years! Oh my God!” She spun around laughing, feeling good all over…

  I’ve got a sexy, hardworking man who makes love to me as if it is our first time, EVERY time… A smart, lovely daughter who is hilarious and full of promise… Her friend – a sweet soul who is simply trying to make her way… Two wonderful parents who taught me how to survive and never shunned me for my mistakes, but reminded me that I knew right from wrong… The father of my child is going through some things, but he’s active in our daughter’s life; he is a good dad and helps take great care of our child… My job is stressing me the hell out, but I just received a raise and a Christmas bonus. I am thinking about going for a promotion, too. I took some online classes and everything. I aced them. Life is good. Damn good.