The Wedding: Dark Romance

by Sienna Mynx

  “Damn, Coco what the hell?”

  I run fast to the bathroom. It’s the only one in the small flat she has and it’s in her bedroom. I see Marcel’s naked butt on the bed. He covers himself but I could care less.

  “Georgie! What the hell is going on?” Marcel barks.

  I’m in the bathroom ripping down my jeans and peeing. I’ve never felt such a rush of relief. I can hear Marcel cursing and Georgie explaining. I guess I did kind of shake them up. When I’m done I’m wiping, flushing, and pulling up my pants before I wash my hands. Georgie is beating on the bathroom door. I hate making her angry. She’s my best friend but she has a short fuse and a mouth stuffed full with curse words ready to spew.

  “In a minute!” I tell her.

  I wash my hands and pray for no drama. I’m tired and want to shower and go back to bed. My coochie hurts and so does my back. Brick scratched me, and left hickies on my chest and neck. I’m just plain wore out.

  “Open the gat damn door,” Georgie demands. I open it and she comes in and closes it.

  “You couldn’t call first? Damn it. We were in the middle of…”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry,” I give her a fake pout. “Please don’t be mad at me. I had the best time last night. So much fun!”

  “Why are you back so early then?”

  “I dunno. I didn’t want to overstay. I just knew if I didn’t get out of there I wouldn’t want to leave.”

  “Really?”

  “Georgie, I’m telling you Brick is so different. When I’m with him it’s light and easy. You know I just flow with him. No hassle, no worries.”

  Georgie is giving me that look. I have to pause to correct my tone. I’m sounding like someone with a major crush. “What I mean is I like him. I do.”

  “Yeah that and another all nighter with him will get his ass killed. You need to put the brakes on girl.”

  “Did Nathan call here?” I ask.

  “You know he did. Three times.”

  I sit on the edge of the bathtub. “I turned off my cellphone last night so I couldn’t be tracked. Nathan has an app that tells him where I am. I was afraid he’d do a drive by. He makes me sick.”

  “He needs to chill. You are twenty-two. He acts like you’re sixteen.”

  “Forget him. I can handle them. Long as you got my back. Is Marcel trippin’?”

  “He’ll be alright. He thought he was going to get some.” Georgie grinned.

  “Georgie! I’m out—ya heard me,” Marcel yells and then the door to her bedroom slams.

  “Oh shoot!” Georgie rushes out of the bathroom. I can hear her telling Marcel to stay. Almost begging. That is never a good sign. Georgie is hooked on this dude. It can’t possibly go anywhere. Her family will never accept him.

  I walk back into the living room and Georgie is gone. She must have followed Marcel to the car. I go to my purse and turn on my phone. The first thing that pops up are several text messages from Nathan. And then I see one from Brick. I gave him my number before I left. He says he misses me. Well, prove it playboy.

  I smile and text him back some naughty thoughts racing through my head. And then my smile fades. Xavier also sends me a text and it pops up on my screen. I have no choice but to call him as he requests.

  “Hey?” he says.

  “You wanted me to call you?”

  “What’s up? I was thinking I could take you and my mother to breakfast. I called the house and didn’t get an answer.”

  “I’m staying with Georgie. It’s Spring Break.”

  “I know.”

  “I thought you and your boys were in Destin?”

  “Nah, my friend, ah, friends had to cancel. That’s why I was thinking that we’d spend some time together. I want to take you and mom shopping. She misses you.”

  “Sorry, I can’t. I promised Georgie we’d, ah, go to visit her sister in Mobile. We’re about to get on the road.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, call you when I get back. Okay?”

  “Uh, okay. Call me.”

  I hang up. Georgie walks in and slams the door. “He can be such a big baby! Gets on my nerve!” she says and goes to the kitchen. She rants about Marcel always having to have his way and her being tired and ready to dump him. I listen, but I don’t. I just told a lie to Xavier which was unnecessary. I should have just told him I didn’t want to see him. I have in the past. Why lie now?

  “You hear me?” Georgie asks.

  “Huh? Yeah, you said Marcel is a chicken head.”

  Georgie smiles. “Who was that on the phone?”

  “Xavier. He wanted me to hang with him and his momma. I told him I was going to Alabama with you to see Teri.”

  Georgie spits out her orange juice. “Why did you lie on me?”

  “I dunno. It just came out of my mouth. It was so stupid.”

  “Maybe you feeling guilty. About this thing with Brick.”

  “Absolutely not. If anything I feel great about it. In fact, I want to call him back and give him blow by blow details.”

  Georgie grins. She walks over and sits on the sofa. I stretch out and put my head in her lap. She scratches my scalp. I close my eyes and relax.

  “Coco what are you doing?”

  “I told you, Brick and I…”

  “Not him. Xavier. You have to end it. Just stand up to your grandmother and end it. Tell your parents.”

  “I know. I know. I’m trying to think of the best way.”

  The phone in her apartment rings. She answers and then gives it to me. I sit up and Georgie goes back into the kitchen.

  “Hello?”

  “Why did you turn your phone off?”

  I roll my eyes. “What do you want Nathan?”

  “Don’t turn your phone off again. I’m driving up to Shreveport to work with daddy. I’ll be back with grand-mère at the end of the week.”

  “Oh? Wow. A week. Okay.”

  “That’s right. Keep your phone on. You hear me?”

  “Shut up. I’m not your kid.”

  Nathan hangs up. I rejoice.

  “What’s got you so happy?”

  “FREEDOM!”

  Georgie shakes her head laughing as I jump up and down on the sofa screaming to the roof.

  Smoke has a key to my door, I’m cleaning my instrument and he walks in. I got maybe another three to four hours before I have to head out and meet my brothers.

  “Hey? Smoke?”

  “You alone?” he asks and walks in my place like he owns it. I lick my lips and change out my reed on the sax. Smoke can tell what mood I’m in as he takes a seat.

  “What brings you by?”

  “You said we should talk. I agree,” he says.

  “This about her, Coco?” I ask. “What the hell is wrong with you? Treating her like that?”

  “You don’t even know who she is.”

  “And you do?” I ask. “She’s what? Twenty-two, twenty-three? What’s your problem?”

  Smoke wipes his hand down his face. He leans forward and he gives me one of those stern looks that says a lecture is to follow. Typically it’s over my mismanagement of the club books. I’m a bit leery about Smoke dipping into my personal life. It’s unexplored territory. As a man we give each other much girth when it comes to personal space. Hell, Smoke has thirteen kids from eight different women. And that’s just the ones he knows about.

  “I know her Brick. Her father is Heathcliff Larue, he’s married to a woman named Naelean Larue. I’ve known that family for years.”

  “So?”

  “So this Coco gal is a snotty little princess who has no business hanging around the Quarter.”

  I frown. It’s not like Smoke to judge. We see all kinds come in and off Bourbon street. From the gays, to the devil worshipers, holy rollers, serial killers, all kinds come and go in and out of the Bone Room.

  “What the hell does it matter to you if she and I want to hang out?”

  “Pops won’t like it. Should I tell him what yo
u been up too?”

  “Smoke, what the fuck are you talking about? Calling my father on me like I’m a twelve year old. Pops doesn’t give a shit who I sleep with.”

  “Her family owns the rum distillery in Lafayette. The one called Bayou Rum. They got a lot of influence with the politicians. The ones that want to clean up the city’s reputation by electing snakes into power. They the kind of people Pops and I don’t like. Too good for their own, always climbing socially and never reaching back. She’s no good for you. Trouble. She’ll bring trouble, the kind Pops don’t need snooping around his affairs. I say cut it off now, no harm no foul. Just set her straight.”

  “Well you have no fucking say in this. None.”

  “Brick…”

  “I don’t know what’s got into you old man—.”

  “Ever wonder how your father and me became friends?” Smoke asks.

  “I’ve heard the story from Pops, he grew up with you. He saved you and you saved him,”

  “Spent some time in Angola. Your Pops got me clear of the charges and released. Never been able to pay that debt back. And he ain’t neva’ ask me too. But that debt is still there. It will always be.”

  “What does that have to do with…”

  “The Larue’s? They the ones who sent me there. Took a job in their rum factory even became line manager. First real job I had. Heathcliff Larue had inherited the business from his father. He’s the only son. A real pompous asshole and his mother is a cold bitch. The two of them have their own little secret society. A cult of them high-yella negroes thinking they too good for everyone else….” Smoke rambles on and his voice trails off. I set the instrument down and pay attention. It’s rare that Smoke reaches back into his past and share his story. Very rare. “That muthafucka, Larue, broke labor laws. Worked us like we were on one of those Creole plantations they love so much cutting sugar cane for them. But the money was good and it was honest work. So niggas kept at it. I drove the men hard for our new master. A nigga that looked exactly like us but thought he was better than us.”

  Smoke was old school. He didn’t like the cavalier use of the n-word in rap music and with teens. He rarely ever said the word. I knew he was beyond pissed to be using it now. I didn’t say anything.

  “Then one day I was working down on A-still with my men. I noticed one of the manhole covers in the absorption column had a problem with staying closed. It was releasing flammable alcohol vapors. With all the work going on in that area a spark could set the place on fire. I shut down operations. Got two men together to work on it. But regulations said we had to suspend work. Larue found out and showed up at the factory raising hell. Told me to get everyone back to work. Told me to figure it out.” Smoke sucked in a deep breath. “I sent two of my best men up to repair it. No lockout or absorption regulations were followed. Just me cutting corners to keep the boss off my ass. They got too close to the vapors and something went wrong. Both men were set on fire. Both men died.”

  I sat forward. “And what happened next?”

  “The police, the investigation and temporary shutdown of the refinery all went down. Procedures were missed. I was line manager. Only twenty-two at the time. Larue said I disobeyed his orders. Without money or a lawyer I got eight years manslaughter in Angola. Served three before your Pops paid off a judge and state attorney and got me out on a technicality.”

  “And Larue?”

  “Stayed in business. Still is. Now he’s all official. Rubbing elbows with politicians. Pretending he’s some special kind of Negro because of his Creole blood. I hear they marry in their circles. Cousins, marry cousins. Nasty shit. Keep their bloodlines pure. That’s his baby girl you messing with. And unless you want Pops to go dig up ancient hurt and anger and start a brand new war with the Larue’s I’m telling you to stay away from them.”

  “Fuck. I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, well I thought you should know.”

  I’m not sure what there is left to say. Smoke gets up to leave. I’m still amazed by the life he led. The ways he’s survive and become stronger. He and my father are men that broke the mold. He leaves and I’m left to think over everything alone. It’s not about me ending anything with Coco. It only makes me even more curious as to why it began in the first place. She wants rebellion and she ends up at the Bone Room the very place where her father’s nemesis works. That can’t be a coincidence.

  I can’t spend much more time on it. I have to get dressed and see Pops and my brothers. I’m not sure what the night will hold but if it’s us going up against the Vietnamese I know it’s going to be nasty.

  Chapter Nine

  Two Days Later

  “Hey big head? Stop pouting. Want to go to the mall?” I glance back over my shoulder. Georgie is sitting on the sofa thumbing through a magazine. I pick up my phone and text Brick again instead of answering her.

  “Coco? Ya heard me? Want to go to the mall?”

  “It’s been two days. He hasn’t returned my calls. Marcel hasn’t seen him. I think something might be wrong,”

  “What?”

  “Call Marcel again. I want to go to the club tonight—again. You know that man Smoke there doesn’t like me. If Brick is avoiding me I want to know why.”

  “Coco, he’s not your boyfriend. Hell, you barely know the guy. When you last spoke to him he said he had to go home and deal with his folks.”

  “Something is wrong. I can feel it. And you know when I get that feeling how…”

  “Stop. Let’s go to the mall. Spend some money. Get out of here. It’s our spring break and I’m bored to death.”

  My gut has that burning sensation. I only get it when someone I care about is in trouble. I’ve spoken to my family. I know where my loved ones are. This feeling has to be for Brick. I walk over to my purse and pick it up, along with my keys.

  “Where are you going?” Georgie stands with hands to hips.

  “Brick’s house. I want to see if he’s there. If he is, he’s going to open the damn door.”

  “Wait!” Georgie gets in front of me. “Don’t go ova’ there.”

  “Why?”

  I can tell she’s hiding something. For two days I’ve been sitting on edge waiting for Brick to return my call and Georgie said nothing. What the hell is going on? “Spill it, Georgie! Now!”

  “Brick spoke to Marcel. He’s done with you, Coco. He don’t want to be bothered with your drama. That’s a quote from him. Let it go. Okay? He ain’t worth your time.”

  “Drama? He’s done. With me? We haven’t even gotten started. Where is he?”

  “What does that matter? You had your fun and it’s over. Let’s go shopping, they have the festival at the end of the week. We can go hang out. Get out of here.”

  Georgie is looking at me with concern when I push past her and go for the rest of my things. She doesn’t get in my way. I grab my duffle bag of clothes and my other things before I head for the door. I’m not sure why I feel like crying. It’s silly. I don’t even know him well enough to have hurt feelings. But my emotions are all over the place from being rejected.

  “You going home?” Georgie asks.

  I don’t bother to answer. She and I both know I am. Where the hell else would I go? I just can’t sit here and pretend that I’m not mad at her for not telling me the truth sooner. I’m mad at me too. I’m just plain sad.

  I hurry out to my car and throw my bags into the backseat. I’m behind the wheel and speeding away. Tears are blinding my vision. When I blink more tears fall. And this feeling of suffering overcomes me. The strangeness about it is this suffering is not my own. It belongs to Brick. I can’t explain it or even name the feeling. It’s just overpowering and persistent. And before long my anger isn’t fueling me, a different need is. The one to help, rescue, and nurture. It’s a protective need I can’t ignore. Instead of heading home I drive on the expressway. I exit and make my way to Canal Street and I keep going. I’m not going to his club. He’s not there. I know where he is. And he�
�s going to answer the door and tell me to my face what the hell went wrong.

  A startling boom wakes me. It drags me up from a restless sleep. If I could open both my eyes I would, but only one is able to part half-way. And then the bang comes again. Several hard knocks or kicks at the front door. I sit upright with a sudden movement that makes me both dizzy and nauseous at the same time. Two days and physically I’m healing but still I feel like shit.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  “Fuck you! I’m coming!” I groan. I put my hand to my side and stand. It hurts less when I do that. I’m wearing my dark blue pajama pants. My chest is peppered with bruising. Fucking Vietnamese gang and their high-kicks. I got a bruise in the shape of a footprint at the center of my chest. It’s damn embarrassing.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  I’m not as stiff as I was, but I know I’m moving like Frankenstein. If it’s Smoke again I might find the strength to crack his jaw. How many times have I told him to leave me alone? I just need to deal with my ass-kicking and get back on my feet.

  I unlock the top and bottom locks and snatch the door open. To my surprise it isn’t Smoke. Coco stands there wearing dark sunglasses over her eyes in a yellow sundress and flip-flops. She’s done something different to her hair. Instead of it being long and silky it’s crinkly and drawn up in very tightly coiled curls that reach her nape. Coco removes her sunglasses and I can see the horror of my condition reflected in her eyes.

  Damn. Do I look that bad?

  “What happened?”

  The last person I wanted to see me like this was her. I told Marcel to tell her I’d call her some time. Now she’s here.

  “Brick?”

  I step aside and she walks in. I close the door and get another good look at her from all angles as she takes a short stroll through my place peeking at my things. The way she smells, so fresh and rosy, it’s a welcome change from the stank, musty-funk of my shut in place. She doesn’t seem to notice. She walks back over to me and stops.