He Who Is a Protector (Sadik Book 3)

by Love Belvin

  My Lover: Knock it the hell off Nalib.

  I rolled my eyes as I hissed through gritted teeth to Rory. “Your boss needs something from Neiman Marcus. I guess we can head there first.”

  And that’s what we did. We walked a considerable distance to the luxury department store. I found cute trousers socks for Sadik and collected several pairs. On the way out of the Ase Garb section, my eyes latched onto boxer briefs. There were a few design patterns I found attractive and complementary to his hard, golden skin. I grabbed a couple of those, too. Ten minutes later, we were out of the store and traversing the large mall.

  On the way to my intended pace, I stopped at a baby store. It had cute clothes for my growing baby. Rory was quiet and observing as I purchased Sadik clothes and onesies. Camille recently commented on how snug the current ones had become. When I was done there, we continued our stroll. I decided on this particular mall because it had an array of stores ranging from high end to modest and budget-friendly merchants. At the other end of the mall, we finally made it to an urban clothing store. This was my primary reason for coming here.

  Tasche’s birthday was quickly approaching and I wanted to get her something she’d like. She’d been talking about this spot for some time. Apparently, they have clothing and designs not found downtown Paterson, Passaic, or Newark, where she shopped. Randi called the store hood. One day, she told us about a fight that broke out in one part of the store while security was shaking down patrons in another area for shoplifting. I hoped neither would happen as I browsed the store for a few things that Tasche may like.

  I saw a few mannequins modeling dresses I could see fitting her style. Grabbing the tag on one and reading $17.99, I knew I’d landed in the right place. Then I began grabbing dresses in her size, and even a few tops and leggings. The more I scrolled through, the more I understood why Tasche blew this place up. The clothes were a little too raunchy and the material skimpy for everyday wear for me, but the goal was her happiness. I still couldn’t believe Tasche was so close to forty.

  Shoot! Rory’s forty-five!

  These people around me were in the best shape of their lives! Rory looked all of fourteen and Tasche in her early twenties. Such was my life, it seemed: full of mind-blowing discoveries.

  Whispering sounds caught my attention while I was at a table tray of leggings searching for the size medium. I turned toward the direction of the sound and saw three women looking my way. I rotated to see if I’d missed something or if someone was there who had their attention behind me. The only person I saw was Rory backing into an aisle, sporting a strange expression. I didn’t think much of it, believing Rory wanted nothing to do with cattiness among women. I went back to browsing, knowing whatever had those girls’ attention couldn’t have anything to do with me. I’d never seen them before.

  I found two pairs of leggings in medium; one a neon pink and the other an orange. I smiled to myself and mumbled, “Hot girl summer.”

  “Say something!” My head shot over to find the girls closer. “I’mma say something.”

  “I see your punk ass, bitch!” another of the three stepped out of the narrow aisle and shouted my way, but over me. My head whipped the opposite way, and again, I saw nothing. “Oh, you open them lil’ legs when my nigga around, but run them lil’ legs when his bitch see you.”

  The women crossed me, going into the same direction I’d just seen Rory. I rolled my eyes, grabbed up the clothes I laid down to do my search, and went into the opposite direction. I stopped at the hosiery section when I spotted red fishnet stockings. Thinking about her line of work, I grabbed three packs for Tasche; red, white, and black.

  When I moved on from there, I ran into Rory. She appeared abruptly, startling me.

  “You ready?” she nearly whispered.

  I glanced down and saw my hands were full from the Sadiks’ things, and my arms were small mountains for Tasche. It was time to call it quits.

  “Yeah. I guess I am,” I finally replied.

  “Gucci.” She gave a hard nod. “Go ‘head to the register and I’ll meet you by the door.”

  I regretted nodding my understanding the moment I did it. Rory didn’t deserve anything from me. But I put that out of my head as I headed to the register. I saw two of the girls again as my things were being rung up. They were moving fast as though in search of someone. I rolled my eyes hard.

  Oh, god…

  I needed out of there. It had seemed Randi wasn’t off on her description of this place. It was busy, but not overwhelmingly so. Maybe after being in isolation on expansive, palatial grounds for over a month, I grew sensitive to crowds. Again, I felt guilty instantly. I was being pompous just as I had coming in here. Maybe it was the pregnancy that had me feeling so irritable lately. As soon as I had paid and was handed my bags, I began toward the front of the store.

  “You see her?” One of the three hood girls came running my way with her phone to her ear. “She in a suit, looking like my fuckin’ nephew be going to school on picture day.” She laughed. “I’m ‘bout to drag her lil’ ass!”

  That hiked my heart rate. The description was eerily close to my current nemesis and escort today. I began taking deeper strides, moving down racks of clothes.

  “B!” I heard barked and I almost toppled over, trying to stop.

  I backed up to find Rory on the other side, along the wall. Her small frame waved me her way. Quickly, I obeyed, but not before I was seen moving too frantically.

  “I think she over here, y’all!” someone shouted. The tallest of the three was on my trail. “Hold the fuck up!” she yelled behind. “Oh, shit! Y’all she right here!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Rory, I’mma fuck you up!”

  I moved so fast the bags began to smack up against my legs.

  “You got ‘em?” Rory asked once I neared her. I nodded. “C’mon!”

  We continued to the front of the store where, luckily, we glided out without a problem. But we were barely to the store next door when I heard the riotous shouts behind us.

  “Shit! There they go!” I heard a series of voices.

  “I’m fuckin’ you up, Rory! I told you and Blockboy Jay it was on sight!”

  “I got her!” Another yelped.

  Rory stopped with apparent reluctance.

  When I followed her actions, I asked, “Why are they after you?” I was out of breath, but not exhausted.

  These girls’ pursuit was like that of a scorned woman. What would Rory have to do with that…

  “Is this about Sadik?” I screamed with wild eyes, adrenaline shot wildly through my veins.

  Rory ignored me and addressed the girl running up on us. “Look, I’m fuckin’ workin—”

  It was too late. The girl swung on Rory once up on her. Rory ducked, grabbed the tall woman by her legs and flipped her over her shoulder. The girl—because that’s precisely what they were acting like—flew into the air landing on her back. When I thought the girl could have been broken into two, she jumped to her feet, dazed.

  “Get her!” The thickest girl screamed a yard away.

  Rory’s palms flashed defensively. “Yo! I ‘on’t want no trouble Mook! I’m workin’, man!”

  “Nah, hoe!” She threw her fists in the air on approach. “You wanna fuck my man and tell me to go kill myself? I told you, you was on suicide watch, bitch!”

  “Mook, he played me, too! I ain’t no he was fuckin’ witchu until you came at me!” Rory tried pleading with the girl. “I swear to gawd, yo, I want no troubles. Fuck that nigga. He ‘on’t know how ta eat pussy no ways.”

  I felt lightheaded. What matrix was I caught in where Rory was begging a girl, who had to be in her early twenties to leave her alone? Rory! The same woman whose rap sheet I’d just read on my way here. The one who wore sports bras on island getaways and not bikini tops, which meant she had to wear them every day. The same lethal executioner I’d seen in action was afraid of hood girls whose only knowledge of self-defense was the fights they’d
been in around the hood. This woman who’d been so cold to me, so ‘you’re a corny girl and I’m so cool, I run with big boys’ was afraid.

  “Fuck you, hoe!” The girl’s punch missed Rory, but before either of us realized it, the third one had descended and they were both swinging.

  On little Rory…

  My body steeled at first, then jutted violently at the sight. Rory turned to the last woman who jumped in and punched her once, winding her. While enduring thwacks from the second woman who accosted her—the one whose man Rory apparently slept with—she positioned herself and knocked the last woman to the floor with an even harder blow. Without warning, the first, tall woman had finally regained her wits and was back in the ring as Rory was choking her friend, Rory’s nemesis. I knew Rory couldn’t survive her. Physically, Rory was limited compared to the short, stout woman who had to be well over two-hundred-fifty pounds and the tall one, who likely weighed the same but was close to six feet tall. There was no way I could let them attack my husband’s right hand in this fashion. There was something humbling happening here with Rory. Something I could feel, but couldn’t quite understand.

  My eyes swung around wildly. Something. I needed something blunt. Luckily, across the walkway was a TJ Max with shopping carts. Didn’t I say how much I appreciated the diversity in this mall? I dropped my bags and darted over there, threading through the traffic of people who’d stopped to watch the melee. Racing across the way with the cart in lead, I returned to the two women pounding on Rory’s small frame. She was down on the floor, curled over.

  The tall girl was the biggest and clearest sight of them all, and no one was helping Rory. I yanked the cart to a stop. When I had control of it, I bent my knees, taking a deep breath, and used all my strength to swing and lift it in the air. I let it go in her direction. Thankfully, it hit my target, knocking the giant in the head and back. The giant hit the stubby girl, causing her to wobble and almost hit the floor, too.

  I raced to Rory, grabbing her. “Come on!”

  She shuffled to her feet, glancing around. “Get ya shit, Bilan.” She pointed to my bags on the floor.

  “Oh, shit!” a bystander trilled. “She’s got a gun!”

  My eyes shot over to Rory. The hem of her suit jacket was somehow tucked above the holster of her jacket.

  “Rory!” I shouted. “Fix your jacket!”

  Quickly glancing down, she did what I said. “Come the fuck on!”

  We sped off once all the bags were secured. I had no idea what had just happened; my mind drew a blank as I trailed after her. We entered a store, traveling toward the opposite end until it led us outside.

  “Sit right here,” she ordered over her shoulder, gesturing a bench. “I’mma bring the car around.”

  I shook my head first, feeling a shooting pain from my lower back. “No.” I shook my head. “No attention by bringing the car back up here.” I was out of breath again, this time tired.

  Still, I followed her through the heated parking lot. We walked nearly five minutes until we were at the car. Rory popped the trunk as soon as it was in sight. Before heading to the backseat, I dropped the bags at her feet as she dumped my others in there. Once inside, my eyes closed in exhaustion. A cry bubbled from my belly unexpectedly as the car shook from her slamming the trunk.

  Rory slid quickly inside and locked the doors before pushing the engine button. “Why you cryin’, yo?”

  I tried controlling my breathing. “I forgot all about my baby.” I juddered with my palms over my small belly. “My…back hurts.”

  “Fuuuuuuuuuuck!” Rory slammed her hands over the steering wheel, once again causing the car to tremble.

  “Just go, Rory!” I yelled through my tears.

  Obediently, she backed out of the parking space and eventually out of the mall’s lot. My breathing didn’t even out until we were well into our travel and trees appeared in a blur. No underground rap played during our long commute. Rory’s thoughts were so loud as she drove silently, they kept me awake. My eyes were closed as I tried to breathe through the ache.

  “B, I’m so fuckin’ sorry for this. I ain’t mean to get you involved in my personal shit. Fuck!” she grated. “S.Q.E.’s gonna kill my ass. One to the dome and toss me in the fuckin’ minefield!” she muttered, mostly to herself. Her big eyes appeared in the rearview mirror. “The baby okay? I need to take you to the doctor or the hospital?”

  We were minutes away from the compound. Was she serious?

  Thick laughter pushed from my belly through my nostrils. “You’re someone’s side piece.” I snorted like a pig, laughing so hard. “And by the looks of it, it’s a block-hugging thug. Is that your type, Rory?”

  “You’da preferred my type to have a slit between the legs?”

  My head rolled over the headrest. “I couldn’t care what your sexual orientation is.” I couldn’t stop laughing no matter how much it cost me in pain. “You think my beef with you would have been any different?” I leaned over to relieve one side, but couldn’t kill my amusement. “But now that I know more about you, maybe I should pay more attention to you around my man. I wouldn’t want to be the next chick running down on you. If I wasn’t pregnant, I would do way more damage to you than those hoodrats. And I can shoot guns, too. Sadik’s made sure of it.” That raised my howl up a notch.

  “I see yo ass is good.” She rustled. I laughed while eyeing her in the mirror. Rory appeared more feminine than I’d ever imagined. “Name ya price.”

  It took a minute, but I sobered.

  “What price?”

  “I don’t want the big homie to find out I had you out there like that today. What you want from me?”

  That clarification sobered me. My mind raced until it settled on one thing. “You know what I want: information.”

  I watched her big eyes and head roll to the side. “That’s fuckin’ double jeopardy. I’m running my fuckin’ mouth and tryna save my ass.” Her head began to nod successively. “I get it now. You hate my ass.”

  The solemnness in her words wrapped around my throat, choking me. I wasn’t trying to manipulate her. I was just desperate for insight on the family I’d married into.

  “You don’t know me at all,” I hissed.

  “Evidently, you ‘on’t know me either, baby girl.” She turned onto the road of the estate with practiced familiarity. The over an hour trip felt like minutes. “Talking about my boss’ll never be a deal between me and no fuckin’ body.”

  ∞21∞

  Rory stopped at the guard’s booth, expressing our identity. Then she drove into the designated parking space for Sadik’s Mercedes-Maybach. Wordlessly, I exited the car. The trunk was unlatched by the time I closed the door and, quickly, I grabbed all my bags, not waiting on her assistance.

  As I marched into the corridor leading to the house, I realized I’d been wearing heels. They were modest, three and a half-inch heels, but not a factor I considered before hauling that full-sized cart into the air. I knew it was only because of my recent workout sessions that I wasn’t in bad shape. If it were not for the absence of abdominal pain, I would be concerned. I’d have to monitor my body’s response to my reckless act for, at least, the next twelve hours. Right now, I needed to rest in bed, and I wanted to do it with my baby.

  First, I’d get an ice pack for my back from Stacy. At this point, Rory was in the rearview mirror of my mind. I had bigger fish to fry: I could feel a dark cloud descending over me. It was something I didn’t want Sadik to see. I didn’t want to have another episode in front of him. It had been weeks since the last.

  Icepack, baby…

  That’s what I’d pursue to hopefully calm the brewing. I didn’t break my stride down the wide and tall, warm-hued hallways. That was until I heard a commotion sounding to be in my path. I maintained my stride toward the butler’s parlor, too tired to make out voices. I turned a corner then quickly another before the chaos heightened. Then finally bodies—spirited bodies—were congregated near one of the
kitchen entrances. Nena, Diane, Tom, and Stacy were in a circle. The only person visibly calm was Nena. Her arms were crossed while in a silk kimono wrap and deep red lips pursed, applying that knowing smirk. Diana, who could be no more than five feet, one inch and just as short as Stacy, spoke with her hands, arms, and head. Stacy, in her apron uniform, had her arms stretched the length of Diane and Tom. Tom, the tallest of the group, alternated between folded arms across his chest and his hands at his waist.

  “Please. Please!” Stacy begged. “If you would just give me a moment to get her on the phone.”

  “You said that five minutes ago.” Diane’s head rolled as she spoke. “I don’t see why we have to wait on her anyway!”

  “Because it’s what Mr. Ellis and Deek wants,” Stacy explained.

  “Man,” Tom sang, arms wrapping around his chest again. “This is some bullshit. Earl ain’t the boss of me.”

  “And Irene ain’t mine either,” Diane made clear. “So what the hell are you saying? You don’t get priority around here.”

  “There she is,” Nena’s deep, raspy vocals floated above the party’s.

  All eyes turned my way, but only Stacy started toward me. She was visibly shaken, her hand going to her forehead.

  “Ms. Bilan, oh my goodness,” she breathed. “I tried having the girls call you several times. Finally, I had them call Rory.”

  In a panic, I dropped the bags aside my feet in search of my cell. It was dead. That discovery had me swaying on my feet a bit. What if Camille tried calling me about the baby? After the fight at the mall, my last thought was my phone.

  “It must have died while I was in the mall,” I tried explaining and breathing through the slight dizzy spell. “What’s going on?”

  “We have an impasse happening,” she tried to explain.

  “About what?”

  “Mr. Ellis’ jet.”

  My eyes brushed over the trio behind her. I was wholly confused. “What about it?”

  “Well,” Stacy tried. “Tom wants to use the Bombardier 7500 to fly to Ellis Island in Antigua with friends this weekend.” My brows flew toward the ceiling as my eyes shot over to Tom. “That would create a scheduling conflict.”