by Brick
Finding a place where I could stand in the darkness, I tried to catch my breath. The whole time I was thinking about Sabrina. I knew she had to see the gore that I left, and I wondered why today had to be the day she would stumble onto my truth. Anyone with a sane mind would not be around me and would try to go to the authorities—and I couldn’t have that.
I took a back route to get to my car. Once I made it there, I saw that Sabrina was gone; that is until I glanced in the car where she lay covering her face in the backseat. I pulled off my cap, wiped off the blood on my face, then pulled off my gloves. Popping the trunk, I tossed it in the open plastic bag in the back as I pulled off my shirt and tossed it in there as well. I stood outside in an open area undressing, grabbing water bottles and pouring it on me to cleanse my skin. Once done, I pulled out the fresh clothes that I always kept in the trunk.
After that, I took my gun, reloaded it, slid it my pants, and closed the trunk. Hopping in my ride, I said nothing as I turned my rearview mirror to focus on Sabrina’s quiet form.
“I’m sorry, baby. This is the last thing that I wanted you to see,” I said, keeping my voice even and in control.
My choice in words and tone had to be carefully given out to keep her from flipping on me and making things messier than they already were. The soft shift of her body had me watching her sit up. Wetness coated her cheeks and sprinkled in her long lashes. A gut pain had me slumping my shoulders and bowing my head.
“You really . . . really weren’t supposed to see or know about this,” I said, more so to myself than her.
The touch of Sabrina’s hand on my shoulder had me running my palm down my face as I held the gun that was holstered in my back, now on my lap. I turned and stared into the face of a girl I had once saved and now had to take out.
“I love you, Marcel. I didn’t see anything. I don’t know nothing, and I didn’t hear nothing,” Sabrina said, her tone thick, but voice light.
“But you did, baby. I know you did,” I said slipping my fingers over my gun.
“I turned when you stood up. I couldn’t watch. I just couldn’t watch,” she said through her tears.
“Still . . .” I muttered staring into her eyes letting the silence fill up the voice of the pain we both were feeling.
When Sabrina’s hand dropped, and she slid back staring at me with a solemn gaze, the quiet between us spoke for us and said what we both knew. That we were done. Gripping my gun, I turned to get a better view of her beautiful face one last time.
“I love you, baby,” I said, surprised at the feeling I hadn’t experienced since my family died.
“Damn,” was all I could say as I knew how the rest of the events had to play out.
Chapter Nine
Sabrina
As I gazed unapologetically at him, I caught a glimpse of the gun in his hand. I knew what he was saying without him even having to say the words. His repeated apologies were not really for the fact that I’d found out about a part of his life that I shouldn’t have. No. His apologies were for the fact that he was going to have to kill me.
Many would question how either of us could feel emotions for the other so strongly when we had just started dating, only two or so months in. No official title had even been placed on us, but if you thought about it the way we did, we’d had a connection to each other years before actually dating. Call it the laws of attraction. The universe brought me back to him and him back to me. Was it destiny? I didn’t know. Fate? I couldn’t call it. All I knew was, he had raised his gun dead center between my eyes.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid of him killing me. He told me he loved me. I didn’t even think he knew he’d said it. He was zoned out, somewhere in his own mind thinking about whatever it was he thought about during times like this. To be honest, technically, I’d never actually seen him kill anyone. I’d heard an arrow whizzing through the air, and the next thing I knew, Antonio Sepriani was dead. I’d heard gunshots but didn’t see Marcel pull the trigger. I assumed he did because when he walked into the crowd, shots rang out. His back was turned to me, so I couldn’t say for certain it was him who had done the shooting. And I had no idea what he had done when he dropped down to the ground because, by then, I was already running back to his car.
Nervous tension settled around us.
“You’re going to kill me?” I asked him.
“Goddamn it, Sabrina, why couldn’t you just stay in the restaurant?” he snapped.
It would be the first time he had ever raised his voice at me. The first time I’d ever seen the look of utter disgust on his face when it came to me. The first time I knew that his urge to kill me was strong.
“Because I’m stubborn. Because I wanted to know more about you than you were willing to tell me.”
He closed his eyes, then inhaled and exhaled hard. “Your incessant need to know is going to get you killed.”
My voice was shaky when I asked, “By you?”
My question seemed to anger him further as he turned around and beat the steering wheel while aggressively groaning under his breath. After he was done taking out his frustration on the inanimate object, he cranked the car and sped away. I had no idea where he was taking me. No idea what he intended to do. For as much as I cared about the man, I wouldn’t allow him just to kill me if he planned on taking me somewhere to do it. That was how being near him these days made me feel. Marcel made me feel like I could take on the world. I needed that. I needed him. Before him, I simply coasted through life. Marcel gave me a reason actually to live it. While it would hurt me to do so, I had every intention of fighting for my life.
But to my surprise, my worst fear didn’t materialize. Marcel pulled up to the front of my high-rise. Valets rushed around to the driver side, anxious to make a tip. He waved them off.
“Get out,” he told, more like ordered, me.
“I don’t want to. I want to talk—”
He whipped around so fast my words got stuck in my throat. I gasped and leaned back. His eyes were red and, at that moment, I realized I’d crossed a line from which there could be no return.
He snapped, “Get.the.fuck.out.”
I still had tears in my eyes, and his tone of voice just made them worse. I opened the door and placed one foot on the cobblestone ground.
As stupid as it sounded, stubbornness was rooted in my DNA. So, of course, I couldn’t just get right out of the car.
“Will I see you again?”
“Oh my fucking God. Sabrina, no. Get out.”
I got out of the car, then slammed the door. I turned around to get one last look at him, but he was already speeding away. People watched me with curiosity and some with pity. I was sure they all wanted to know why I was crying, but I’d already made a fool of myself once that day. I’d no intention of doing it again. I rushed onto the elevator, then headed up to my place.
I lollygagged around the rest of the night, hoping Marcel didn’t mean it when he said I’d never see him again. Part of me wished and hoped he would change his mind and find a way into my home without me knowing like he had done before. But no such thing happened. I realized that I’d messed up a good thing before it had started. That was why I said that day he had killed me. A little piece of me died when I realized he was gone and never coming back.
Four weeks later . . .
“Today marks a good day in the city of Atlanta as Interim Mayor Leo Giulio congratulates his good friend and avid campaign supporter, Othello Lanfair. A private investigator uncovered an elaborate scheme by Lanfair’s opponent, Joe Peppercorn, to tarnish Lanfair’s image. As you know, Lanfair is going after Peppercorn’s seat as chairman of the Fulton County Commissioner’s office.”
I watched in silence with everyone in Giulio’s as Channel 2 Action News reported. We’d all gathered around the TV, anxious to see how the news would spin the events. Daddy’s face appeared on the screen.
“I’m smiling because these unfounded allegations have been declared
null and void. For Ms. Carthan to become a part of a devious scheme as such not only paints Peppercorn in a bad light, but she’s singlehandedly made it harder for any woman who is a true victim of this kind of crime. Women have a hard enough time as it is getting people to believe them when they are sexually harassed or sexually assaulted. I’m disgusted by the length Peppercorn has gone to win this election.”
Cheers erupted in the restaurant as Leo patted Daddy’s back. Daddy actually looked as if he believed what he was saying. This was a major win for him. The fact that Peppercorn had been found to know the teacher accusing Daddy of sexual harassment had been a plus for us. Then for Daddy to use the fact that women have a hard time getting justice when reporting rape and sexual harassment sent his chances of winning the office through the roof.
With Leo seen shaking his hand and smiling along with him, it was indeed a good day on this side of Atlanta. Kat was all smiles. Leo’s wife Machonne was applauding as if she had just won an election. Leo’s wife was insolently black. She wore her hair natural and often boasted of the fact she was pro-black, which drew the ire of the Republicans in office. The place was packed with supporters. The smell of food permeated the room. Several times, I’d snuck away to the kitchen to see if Marcel was there. I’d done that for the last four weeks. When I wasn’t working my legitimate job and had to keep track of the Giulios’ finances, I always looked for him, but I never found him.
I mindlessly picked at my food while utensils clacked and clattered against plates and bowls. Daddy noticed it and asked if I was okay. I wasn’t but lied and said I was. After a while, I got tired of the politics talk and excused myself. I got home in record time, where I showered, grabbed a blanket and a book, then settled down for the night.
As the weeks went on, I started to get used to Marcel not being around. There was no number to call. I thought about just showing up at his place but then thought better of it. My life had gone back to the way it was before I met him. It was routine; work and home. I’d never been a socialite, unlike my twin sisters. I didn’t like hanging out. Was a loner. Didn’t have too many friends, and the ones I had knew not to ask me out. More than likely, I’d turn them down. I was an acquired taste, and not many people were able to swallow it.
November 1st rolled around. Election talk was in high gear. Daddy was campaigning hard, had become the face of women’s rights. I laughed so damn hard at that irony—especially since he had smacked Kat and since Mama and the twins told me he had beat a baby out of Kat at one time. Leo had made it known that once the election for mayor in 2013 rolled around, he was throwing his hat in the ring as had been the plan all along.
Things were going well until the Feds raided the restaurant and Laundromats. Agents from the IRS’s Criminal Investigation office invaded the Giulios’ life like a hell storm. Acting U.S. Attorney Ramon Parker, of the Northern District of Atlanta, had a hard-on for them. They were going back years in their investigation. It wasn’t a good look for Leo who told my father to distance himself for the sake of the overall plan.
“You let me worry about this end,” Leo told Daddy one day in his office. It was a day after the Feds had raided the place.
“You sure about this?” Daddy asked.
Leo nodded. The stress lines were creased into his forehead like they had been drawn there.
“I’m positive. Stay the course. For the sake of the whole agenda, just put distance between us. I’ll figure out how this is going to go.”
He sat behind his desk, hands steepled in front of his mouth. The restaurant was still operating, as Senior Giulio was a proud man and refused to close the doors. I’d just walked in with all the files in my hands. I laid ten black books on his desk. Now it stood to reason as to why the Giulios brought me on so soon. They must have known the Feds were coming for them.
“I’d already taken the liberty of cleaning up the files as far as ten years back. I’m glad I did. It was a tricky thing to do, but I got it done. Now, everything will not be peaches and cream because we don’t want it to be perfect. We want a few discrepancies, but we want them to be minor,” I told him.
He nodded, a frown still etched on his face. “And you’re sure about this? We got nothing to worry about?”
“No, Leo. I know what I’m doing,” I said, more aggression in my tone than I had wanted there to be.
He snapped his head up and looked up at me. At first, I thought the frown had deepened because of my tone of voice with him, but I turned around to see the federal agent over the case stalking down the hall. He was a black man. Cute in the face, caramel complexion, and stocky build. Chewed on a toothpick and was always smiling like he knew something you didn’t know.
“You seem so sure of yourself, little lady. Sherman and Hughes pay you top dollar in their firm, I heard,” Agent Stokely said to me, referencing the financial advising firm where I worked.
I wanted to tell him I was indeed sure of myself but didn’t readily want to speak to a federal agent or any officer of the law, for that matter. My sister had always told me to remain silent in certain situations, even if it was mundane talking.
I grabbed my clutch from my father’s hand, then looked at the agent. “Agent Stokely, if you wish to speak to me, you can do so through my attorney, Jimma Lanfair. She’ll be more than happy to set up a time and date where she will accompany me wherever you need me to be,” I told him.
I didn’t give him time to respond. I tucked my clutch under my right arm like the lady I was and dipped. Danny was my shadow as my father didn’t want me to go anywhere alone. He was afraid of me being followed for some reason. Danny opened the back door of the black Navigator for me, then helped me inside.
Something about Danny had been off as of late, as well. I would catch him watching me. I mean, it wasn’t unusual for him to watch me as he was told to do so by my father. But sometimes, the look in his eyes prickled my skin.
Danny followed me while I went to Whole Foods to grocery shop. His presence normally annoyed me. On this day, I didn’t care that he was around. People watched us wondering who of importance I was. Most of them had no idea or didn’t care one way or the other that I was Othello Lanfair’s daughter. But because Danny had an earpiece in his ear, wore an all-black suit, and refused to let anyone get within a few feet of me, they all stared and whispered.
Once I’d gotten what I needed, he took me home. I kicked my shoes off at the door. Checked my messages. Jimma had called. Told me I needed to answer my cell. I checked my purse as I hadn’t heard it ring. When I noticed it wasn’t there, I went to my bedroom to find it lying on the bed. I stopped in my tracks. Not because my phone was on the bed, but because underneath it lay a lilac. I spun on my heels. Blood pressure spiked instantly.
“Marcel,” I called out.
I was hoping, wishing, and praying he was there. I rushed to my walk-in closet and looked around. Lilacs had been his mother’s favorite flower and, ironically, mine as well.
“Marcel, are you in here?” I called out again.
I knew I probably looked like a fool spinning on my heels, wringing my shirt and biting down on my bottom lip. The locks turned on my door, and my heart beat ferociously against my rib cage, only to be deflated once I saw it was Danny. Gun in hand, he came in looking for anything that didn’t feel as if it didn’t belong.
“You okay, Ms. Lanfair?”
I blinked away tears of disappointment. “I’m fine, Danny. Thank you.”
“I heard you yelling,” he said, baritone deathly laced with intent to kill had I not been okay.
“I’m okay. Do you know if anyone has been in my place?”
“Mr. Lanfair was earlier. Said he noticed you hadn’t been yourself. So he stopped by to check on you, but you had already gone. The cleaning crew stopped by as well. You sure you’re okay?”
My heart deflated a little more. Daddy knew my favorite flowers were lilacs, so it made complete sense that he left one on my bed. I felt so foolish that I could have screamed.
Instead, I simply nodded.
Danny gave me a look of skepticism before touring my penthouse to be certain. Once he was satisfied that I was indeed okay, he left again.
There I was damn near six weeks later still wishing, looking, hoping, and praying Marcel would come back, and he hadn’t. I felt stupid. Figured it was high time I got over the man and let well enough be enough. I talked a good game. Gave myself a good pep talk while putting away groceries. Even still, echoes of the dates we had and times spent together lingered in my mind.
I was just getting into a good sleep when I heard the locks to my front door opening. I figured it was just Danny doing his nightly walk-through. He did that from time to time, especially when Daddy felt the need to have him guard me on a twenty-four-hour time frame. It annoyed me that he had easy access to my home in such a way. I threw my covers off me and stormed into my front room, set to tell Danny he could no longer just walk in if there wasn’t an emergency. I wanted him to call me first before invading my privacy as such. Or I could have simply been in a funky mood because I knew life had to go on without Marcel.
“Danny, you can’t just barge in here like—”
My words got lost in transmission. The man standing in my front room wasn’t Danny. Butterflies took residence in the pit of my stomach. His facial hair had grown out a bit more, but he looked the same. Suddenly, I felt conscious of my appearance. I had on a simple white, extra long tee shirt and nothing else. Hair was probably all over my head as I hadn’t cared enough to tie it down. Breath was stale since I had been lying in bed for hours.
