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He Who Is a Protector (Sadik Book 3)

Page 20

by Love Belvin


  “Hey, you,” I finally greeted Monica.

  She glanced up, expression quickly opening into a welcoming smile. “Hey! Oh, my god!” She acknowledged Sadik, dropping her fork into the plate to reach for him. “Bring that Ellis boy here!”

  I handed him over, happy for the opportunity to eat quickly. As she spoke to the baby, I was able to scarf down some of my food.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” she finally broke from the baby talk Sadik seemed to have enjoyed. “I was so worried about you last night.”

  A nervous snort left my nostrils. I knew I had to answer for my actions sooner or later today. I wouldn’t beat around the bush. “Thanks,” I garbled, nodding my head as I chewed and cleared my mouth. “Yeah. Last night was crazy. There’s no way I can dance around it. I don’t want to talk about it exactly, either. I’ll say this: I’m no stranger to violence, thanks to the Ellises. It sometimes pushes me over the edge.”

  Monica’s eyes were wide, listening to me. “I was really surprised because Sadik is the only Ellis man to have an even temper when it comes to women.”

  “Trust me. Sadik is no saint. He’s capable of harm, but nothing physical to me. Now, emotionally? I’m at his mercy. As far as violence to me, he’s of no threat.” I scooped more food onto my fork. “It’s just… I’m still adjusting to all of this.” My eyes gestured the room. “And I think he’s adjusting to my adjustment, if you get what I mean.”

  The sight of Sadik’s busted knuckles flashed before my eyes. My mind conjured several scenarios that could have caused that injury. I’d seen him vicious more than once. He and violence were bedfellows.

  “And you guys are married!” Monica had a lot to unload.

  I nodded again with a full mouth. “We’ve been married for five days and have been fighting just as long.” My brows jumped. “There goes that adjustment thing.” When I realized Monica was done with firing her questions, I asked, “So, how’s Iesha?”

  “For the most part, she’s fine. But last night, she slept with her sister. She had a nightmare about what could have happened if the smelly white man had taken her.” Monica’s eyes rolled, clearly being distraught over the ordeal.

  That mention of his scent filled my nostrils instantly in a wave before evaporating just as quickly. Suddenly, my appetite was effectively gone.

  “If there’s anything I can do, especially with the girls, please let me know. S.Q.E., the second and I will be here with you guys all week, or until this all blows over.” My gaze dropped to him. My baby sucked his fat fist as though it was a well-seasoned chicken bone. He was my ray of sunshine. “I know vacations don’t fix everything, but we just came back from paradise, and I swear I could go back to escape what’s happened over the past twenty-four hours.”

  “Yeah,” Monica sighed. “Tell me about it. I’d just gotten the girls to the point of not asking daily for their dad. It took a while to get them to understand he’s in the hospital, and they’re trying to get him well. And when he’s better, it’s going to take time for him to be a strong daddy again. What I haven’t told them is he’ll never be the daddy they knew.”

  “How is Iban doing?”

  I wouldn’t know because I was afraid to ask Sadik about his brother. And the conversation had gotten so ahead of Earl and me yesterday so quickly with his temper and lack of humility to do what’s right and end this feud with his son, the opportunity had never come. I hadn’t seen Irene in over a week outside of my FaceTime calls from St. Justin. She hadn’t availed herself to me much lately, and I understood why. She’d had a lot on her hands with her family.

  “There’s finally been a change in his condition.” Neither Monica’s voice nor her body language gave a prelude of joy. “He woke up. The hospital called me an hour ago saying it happened just after four this morning. They want me to take my time coming to see him. They’re cleaning him up, testing, and evaluating him to see what state he’s in. The girls can’t go. They don’t want him overwhelmed with guests. Now I have to deal with that.”

  “Okay.” My heart thundered. “He’s awake. What happens next?”

  “Rehab. I asked the same question. They said that’s the best scenario.”

  It troubled me seeing her lack of excitement when delivering incredible views. I had mixed feelings for Iban. He’d threatened me several times and even put my baby at risk when acting out his disappointment with his family. But for his wife, this should have been the best news of the century.

  Sadik began to fuss, so I took him from her and placed him over my shoulder to rub his back. Monica resumed eating quietly while my mind continued to turn over her situation.

  “Monica, how are you doing with all of this?”

  “Obviously I’ve seen better days, but since becoming the wife of Iban Ellis, I’ve learned to survive each time the ball drops. I’ve become quite a pro at it.” She fed herself the last of her food, cleaning her plate. “Candy put her foot in this Quiche Lorraine,” she moaned before leaving the table for the buffet table.

  I didn’t continue my questions because where would you go from there? My heart went out to Monica. Sadik calmed against my chest, so dissimilar to my mind in the moment. I began humming a song to him. I realized my eyes were studying the table when, in my peripheral, Monica’s phone lit with a text. It lay right there, mere inches away from me. I didn’t know I was reading the text that had come through until I was done.

  the more i think abt it this is bullshit. if i can’t C U like i want until UR fam figure shit out i at least need 1 more nite with you. please think about it.

  My eyes blossomed wildly, then swiped to the opening of the room. I was jarred, my entire frame tensed with Sadik in my arms.

  Oh, my god...

  Monica had taken on a lover. I couldn’t believe it because she’d always been the dutiful wife from what I knew of her. However, she’d also been the longsuffering wife. There was no way I could ask her about it.

  Before I knew it, Monica had returned to the table. She sat down and forked into her egged pie. My rocking of Sadik picked up in pace again as I tried to appear unruffled. Thankfully, Taaliba sauntered into the breakfast room. She headed straight to the buffet table when I could feel Monica’s head whip over to me after picking up her phone.

  “Look, S.Q.E., two!” I cooed excitedly. “Your other auntie just walked in!”

  Maybe my performance was believable because Monica shot to her feet and announced, “I have to take this in private.”

  She took off immediately, and I let go of a breath I had no idea I’d been holding.

  Taaliba looked distraught as she approached the table. It reminded me of her demeanor last night. I couldn’t fully appreciate it because I’d been upset and rising in a panic attack myself. I focused my energy on trying to hide it, suppressing the rise. Which could have been why I felt off today. Whatever it was that came over me when I got into those headspaces drained me, last night even more. From the moment I arrived at Elliswoods Palace, all I wanted was Sadik, but knew I couldn’t have him until he was done with his family. Rory had given me the heads up well before Sadik arrived. I tried so hard to manage it, but barely. I was so wild and…angry!

  I lashed out at Tiffany…

  This morning, I had the capacity to ask. I waited until Taaliba brought her plate to the table, taking a seat across from Sadik and me. She wore no makeup, and her tapered cut bore no fancy curls, just slicked back. She offered a wry smile, though I saw the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at Sadik’s pampered butt propped in the air.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, hating seeing her this way.

  Her expression went hard, and she rolled her eyes. “I feel so helpless. I’m frustrated. Just sick of my family treating me like a little kid. Sadik’s keeping me captive here on the compound when I’m a grown-ass woman! My obligation is to another family.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Lopezes in that fire? It started in the kitchen. Bobbito, Danny’s older c
ousin with autism, was the heart and soul of that restaurant. He was a cook and created many of the menu items. He was popular in the community, in general. He died trying to save the kitchen.” Her eyes began to water. “People kept yelling for him to run for his life, like they were doing. But he was so determined to save the kitchen. They couldn’t pull him back, he was a hefty guy. He ended up dying in there.” She fell into a hard cry.

  “I’m so sorry to hear this.” I wanted to reach for her, but couldn’t at our distance with Sadik. “I’m so sorry for Bobbito’s family.”

  “That’s the thing. It’s not just his family missing him. It’s everyone he’s touched, like me. Over the years since I’ve been going over to the Lopez mansion, he’s been very fond of me. If anyone knew of Danny and my relationship, it was Bobbito. He would sneak me these delicious dishes he’d make for me when I visited. Bobbito knew my favorite Dominican dishes. He would do it to make me happy.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was all I could say. “Really, I am.”

  Taaliba shook her head. “He lived with Danny’s father until he passed, and then Danny. Danny is so…incensed…so damn mad. And I’m not there. No one can reach him, calm him like I can, and I can’t be there to do it. Once again, I’m the baby, bratty sister of the Ellises and I’ve been confined here. And I’m so fucking tired of it. I’m so ready to say fuck it all, and just leave.”

  I was speechless, afraid of saying something that would reveal my ineptness. “I can only imagine what it’s like having to deal with them.”

  “I told you he wants to get married,” she continued with her venting. “He swears I can bear the shoulders of a wife in his line of work. Little does he know, he’s giving me more credit I don’t deserve because I am not that woman. I’m still being treated as a baby. How can he view me as a wife or a wife in this business that I absolutely hate? I’m finally to a point where I’m thinking it’s time for me to grow up. It’s time for me to give it a try.”

  “Give what a try?”

  Her chin dipped and she nodded nervously. “You know. Danny.” There was a pause to give me the time to comprehend her meaning of marriage. “I don’t know if we’ll survive. Still not one hundred percent confident marriage is for me, but what I do know is Danny’s my destiny. He’s my soulmate, and I so badly—finally—want to be there for him. I don’t think I can do it. Don’t think I can deal.” Her thick emotions had her whisper, “I hate this underworld. Since I’ve learned of it and understood it, I’ve abhorred it all. Here yet at twenty-seven years old, I’m still locked into this lifestyle I didn’t choose. I absolutely hate it, detest it. I feel helpless, like there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Have you spoken to your mom about it?”

  Taaliba shook her head. “She’s not the same. The shit with Iban and my dad has her so fucked up. Even now, when I want to go to my dad about it, I can’t because Diane is always in his face, and he’s on the phone, trying to talk to Nena.”

  My face folded. “Where’s Nena?”

  Taaliba’s head whipped left in deep annoyance. “I don’t know where the fuck Nena is and I don’t care where Nena is, but apparently, my father does. And he acts as if he can’t function if both his girlfriends aren’t around him—although he lives with his wife. I am just fucking over all of them.”

  Sadik began to fuss against my chest. That seemed to have broken Taaliba’s angry trance. Her face lifted in regret and she cried, “Baby, I’m so sorry!” Her eyes rolled shut. “Bilan, I’m so sorry. I have to go; I just can’t deal.” Taaliba stood from the table, food untouched.

  As I rocked Sadik, I watched her leave, sulking as she sauntered out with heavy shoulders.

  “Okay, baby,” I murmured to Sadik. “Let’s get you a bottle.”

  With Sadik to my chest, we traveled the marble halls of the palace, passing staff on the way. No matter how many times I’d visited, this place didn’t feel residential unless I was in the bedroom assigned to Sadik. And even that was a suite, immense in size. I wouldn’t complain, though. My focus had to be elsewhere. There were too many leaking faucets in this “home.” Too many deteriorated pipes within the walls hidden by costly, plush Black art.

  The Ellises were hanging on by a thin thread, so unlike the perception I had of them the first time Sadik brought me “home” and I experienced the biggest culture shock of my life. Yes, I was sick because instead of me leaving, my heart was set on healing. This family needed mending and soon. How could I bring another Ellis child into a family filled with chaos?

  ∞13∞

  I drummed my fingers on the table as I waited, my chair facing the bathroom door. Not even the loud music pulsing the ceiling over us could distract me from this encounter. The muffled woman on the floor beneath Rory squirmed and moaned through her narrowed nostrils. Rory yanked her head back by her bleach blonde, silky locks of hair to shut her up.

  When the door opened and a lone figure ambled out of the bathroom, I grinned in welcoming. His ocean blue eyes didn’t land on me right away, they scanned around me first. He observed my men posted around the small room with guns drawn. I observed his tall frame, non-muscular build, sandy blond low haircut, and round face. His cheeks were blushed, nose its usual large bulbous size, and lips naturally thin as he considered his predicament. When his gaze finally landed on me, I smiled with joy.

  “I’ve been waiting,” I shared.

  Popov stepped outside of the small bathroom in the basement of his strip club with his belt undone and found another one of his pastimes beneath Rory, seated on the floor. The other two were face down on the floor with Jamil’s guns to their heads. They were also better behaved.

  “You have lots of courage coming here,” his deep thickly accented vocals mumbled as I summonsed him to the table with my fingers.

  “This won’t take long,” I assured. “Have a seat.”

  Popov hesitated before obeying. He dropped into the chair across from me. “My men will be down momentarily.” I nodded, not disagreeing with him. “They say you’re the…suave one, not the crazy one.” Popov’s English was fair, having been in the U.S. for over twenty years, but his Russian intonation was still dominant.

  One side of my face lifted. “I’m an ‘Ellis’ one.” I sat up in the metal folding chair. “That’s what you should never forget. Instead, you decided to play a petulant game, one my father taught us never to practice.”

  “And what is that?”

  “To throw punches with closed eyes then run.” It was clear Popov didn’t understand. “You sent men to Earl Ellis’ granddaughters’ school, and one to the hospital where he healed with a note from you.”

  Popov scoffed, appearing relaxed for the first time. “Do not forget, burned down the fucking Lopez restaurant. It was very profitable, I heard.” He shrugged, tossing his head, shoulders jumpy. “And the negr woman he’s fucking? I have not touched her.” He watched my expression darken. And with assumed victory on his breath, he leaned closer to me over the table. “Last week, when my men sent me footage of her sucking his brown dik outside, by his pool? I could have put a bullet in her head.” Enjoying my deadpan expression, Popov turned the knife by bobbing his head over a closed fist, demonstrating.

  I could choke Taaliba’s little ass. Visions of slicing Danny’s throat appealed to me to the point of increasing my heart rate.

  “Wonderful segue,” I complimented him. “That very admittance of stalking is what brings me here.”

  Popov straightened in his chair, appearing to be excited about what I had to say. “Please explain.”

  “You left a message for my father. You said—and I quote—‘you’re touchable.’ Well, I was sent to model to you the Ellis way of telling a man heavily guarded that he’s touchable. Earl didn’t send an employee, he sent as close to his physical representation as he could get. He sent his own DNA.” I dipped my chin, widening my eyes for emphasis. “He sent me. We don’t punch with closed eyes, we show up to a fight like men. Since your route was child
like, Double E Bags is approaching you like a man. What message are you trying to convey?” I gestured, letting him know he could speak.

  Popov placed his elbows on the table, attempting to get even closer to me. “Your father abandoned our agreement for services. He was a customer for many year. Loyal. The biggest seller in the state cut me off with no…” His tongue clicked the roof of his mouth as he searched for the appropriate word. “Note?” He decided on the wrong word, but I wouldn’t correct him. “That is no good in my business.”

  “And what exactly is it you suppose he do?”

  “Come back to buy my shit.” Popov sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “This time, he pay twenty-five percent over market value.”

  I nodded with hiked lips, giving that thought a beat to drift into the air. “Okay. I’m glad you were able to communicate your thoughts like a man. I will share them with my father.” I stood from the small table and pushed my chair in. “But you’ve got a bigger problem. Two actually.”

  Popov chuckled with arrogance. “What?”

  He wouldn’t look me in the eye. Another Earl Ellis rule.

  “Earl Ellis doesn’t entertain rats.” I shrugged my shoulders with indifference, lips pouted. “He damn sure doesn’t put paper in their pockets.”

  The nostrils on his wide nose broadened. I’d now had his attention. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “We’ve long ago learned about your cooperation with the FBI. My father has no ties to you because he’s not in the same industry as you. I’m here simply to tell you he’s no fuckin’ punk and will not tolerate your harassment.”

  Popov’s scowl was so hard, his lips stretched and the cords in his neck projected. “I’m not fucking rat!” he growled, pearly whites exposed, getting every bit of his Ivan Drago on.

 

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