Rogue (In the life of the Rogue Book 1)

by KaNeshia Michelle

  “That and more.” She exhaled and moved a strain of hair from out of her face. “It was a family occasion, Tristan.”

  Family occasion meant that Johnny had done something horribly wrong and a hit had been excuted within the family, which meant that my father had his own son killed. This wasn’t a good situation for anyone. Me fucking another man’s wife had been hell but I was still living and breathing.

  “He cooked the books, Tristan. Johnny was sitting on a very nice nest egg and got caught,” Lulina explained.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me and it didn’t. Johnny was greedy. Because of his degree, he thought he was smarter than everyone else. How he had gotten caught was a good question. It had taken teeth to get as much as I had from Lulina, and Papa would tell me even less.

  “Shit,” I whispered. I wanted another drink.

  The phone buzzed again. This time I answered it. Of course it was Papa. He hadn’t been happy that I had missed his first call but he bypassed that and barked the room number. He also wanted me to dump the phone after I hung up with him.

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here, Lu,” I said.

  “Your grandfather is waiting.”

  “And I’m waiting on you to answer my question.”

  She leaned over and planted a long, lingering kiss on my lips. It was wonderfully deadly. In my head I jerked away, but in reality I was frozen stiff.

  “No one is here to see us, Tristan. Relax.”

  My heart was in my throat. My eyes were as wide as the lights hanging over our heads. I wanted to look and see who had seen the kiss but was too scared that I would come face to face with Mr. White, or the other gunman in my room who I nearly killed, now known as Mr. Black, watching as I kissed this woman.

  Lulina pulled a slip of paper from between her cleavage. “Come see me when you’re done. Like I said, this isn’t a good place to talk.”

  She leaned in again and kissed me. Thankfully it didn’t last as long as it had before. Not so thankfully, I hadn’t jerked away this time, either.

  Lulina gave an important piece of advice before going back to her wine. “And act surprise when you hear the news, Tristan about your brother’s death.”

  *

  Mr. White had the pleasure of frisking me the moment I stepped into Papa’s suite. I felt his calloused hands biting into my hair as he pushed my face into the wall, while his free hand squeezed at my pockets.

  “Your wife likes my ass too,” I taunted.

  He grunted into my ear. “If we were on the inside, I would have you for lunch.”

  I ignored the bead of sweat that swept down the side of my face. “I hear breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of letting my boys go without breakfast.”

  I found it best not to taunt anymore. I could hear my teeth scraping against eachother while I clenched them as he took his time squeezing my back pockets and then swept around the inside of my thighs for any hidden weapons.

  I didn’t know these men; I had never seen Mr. White or Mr. Black around my father’s compound, but I got the sense they had been working for the Rogue much longer than I’ve been alive. I knew that these weren’t the men who had killed Jimmy Ricky or Z. Moss. Mr. White and Mr. Black were bone breakers, here to give messages and leave pain behind, and your life still intact, whether you wanted it or not after they were done.

  These were Papa’s men. Of course I shouldn’t have been surprised that my grandfather still had hired muscles. Retired or not, the real hobbies were never too far away from what you did for most of your life.

  I was found cleaned and ushered to the living room where my grandfather waited for me. Papa was sitting in a polo shirt and loose khaki pants. Still he wore his sun glasses even though it was getting dark outside.

  Papa nodded to Mr. White. “He’s clean?”

  “He’s good.”

  “I’m your grandson, Papa,” I said and really wished I hadn’t.

  It was the little boy talking that was still trying to be accepted by the man whom never hugged him because he meant it.

  Papa didn’t waste time and gave the news: Johnny was caught taking money from the Rogue and was ended – quietly. Papa hadn’t blurted it out, but he didn’t take his time saying it either. I nodded to his words, keeping my face blank and emotions as tight as I could. Inside I wanted to laugh in his face. Papa’s perfect little grandson had fucked up big.

  “Has he been buried?” I asked.

  Papa motioned towards the couch he was sitting on. I took a seat and was handed a drink. Suddenly I perked up at the turn in the conversation – drinks were always a pick-a-Tristan-up.

  “Your father wants you home for the funeral, but he needs you do something first,” he answered.

  “What’s that?”

  Papa grabbed a folder and tossed it in my lap. “There’s a job we need done. It’s a hit. Usually we have men to do this sort of work, but this isn’t our territory and we need to keep the bodies coming in low not to raise anymore suspicions.” He stopped, took a sip then cleared his throat. “Mr. White is the head of it; you’re going to be working with them. He’s going to tell you what to do and I sure as hell better not hear that you gave him shit.”

  I opened the folder. Inside was a picture of a pretty beach house. It was an off white home, homely with a modern touch. The ocean was the real reason anyone would pay for it. The ocean waves looked like it would damned near lapped at the front door steps.

  Papa pointed at me. “There’s more to this, Tristan. Lulina’s daughter is in this house.”

  “We’re killing Lulina’s kid?”

  “No,” he barked, “Listen you dumb fuck and don’t you interrupt me.” He eased slightly and took another sip. His body relaxed. “They’re men in the house protecting her. You need to take them out – that’s why I said it’s a hit, but she goes with us.”

  I used the tip of my index finger to tap the top of the photo and watched it fall back inside the folder. “When?”

  “First you need to know why, Tristan.”

  “Okay.” I let a moment past before I spoke again. “Why?”

  “Think about it. Johnny’s dead. Ralph’s a complete idiot and you’re a nigger who can’t be trusted two inches of spit that make it out of your mouth. So, what does that tell you?”

  I thought about it and didn’t like it. Papa had a well placed ace up his sleeve. This decision to find a boss outside of the family stank of his idea. I also felt like I had helped pull his plan off. My father might have known that Johnny was taking money from the family before he sent me away, and even if he didn’t, he hadn’t wanted Johnny to run the business. My father had offered his hand to me and I had pushed it right back in his face and flew off to Miami.

  “You do this tomorrow night. After it’s done, you and Zander come back home. Together, as a family, we bury your brother.” Papa glanced around the room threatically before turning back to me. “I thought I asked for Zander to be here too.”

  “He’s sick.”

  “Make sure he feels better for the job tomorrow.”

  I finished the rest of my drink and stood up. “He’ll be sick tomorrow too. I’ll tell him you said to get better soon, though.”

  ***

  The woman who, not even an hour ago had every eye in a bar and knew how to handle herself under the obvious stares, had evaporated. Lulina slowly opened the door. She took a step aside as I walked in with my hands stuffed in my pockets.

  “You know now, don’t you?” Her voice was frail.

  The make up was gone off her face. Her hair was wet and wavy but pulled back into a pony tail. She wore loose sweats that did nothing for her figure. I had never seen her without the make up, without the sexy, tight clothes – I had never met a Lulina when she couldn’t look you in the eye. The Lulina I knew was way too ballsy.

  This Lulina sniffled, wiping her eyes from the tears she had been crying before opening the
door.

  The vulnerability uneased me.

  “You know that he’s setting up to have my daughter picked up?” Her voice was no longer frail but raised a few octaves. It was drenched in anger. “I haven’t seen her since she was ten years old, Tristan.”

  I nodded and looked around the room. It was a nice room, not a suite but I could still feel the money poured into it. I hadn’t expected this. I thought she had asked me up here for sex. It was obvious she was looking for more than she had ever asked of me to give.

  She walked to me. Her arms wrapped around my waist and her head rested on my chest. She breathed deeply. “I didn’t want her in this life, Tristan,” she sobbed and the crying mangled her words.

  Instictively, I held her to me and rested my chin on the top of her head. I could smell the soap off her hair. It wasn’t the usual expensive shampoo she had put on by a stylist. She was a person, an actual person who hurt like everyone else and didn’t look like a face on a magazine. The lack of makeup didn’t age her, but made her look so young and beautiful.

  “You don’t know what’s it’s been like, Tristan. After they found out what Johnny did, I thought they were going to kill me too.”

  “How did they find out?”

  She shook her head against my chest and sniffled. “I don’t know.”

  “He never told you what he was doing?”

  She lifted her head and looked at me. “You think I had something to do with it, Tristan?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “What are you saying?”

  She was shivering and I held her tighter till she finally relaxed. “I don’t what I’m saying. I don’t know what to make of all this.”

  “I’m a mob woman, Tristan. I know how I’m looked at and I know how I portray myself. It’s the life I chose and the life I’ve lived so long. She’s…my daughter,” and her voice cracked when she said my daughter, “I do rather have her here with me instead of her father. I want her in this family instead of his.”

  I chuckled softly. “I think she will be fine, Lu.”

  Lulina continued to hold my gaze. “Promise me you keep her safe.” She tightened the hold on my waist. “She’s going to have to walk into hell for what your father and grandfather is doing. Some of the boys may not like it.”

  I licked my dry lips and swallowed and remained silent.

  She went on, “There’s plenty that can happen tomorrow night. A bullet could fly into the wrong body. I need to know that you make sure it’s not her,” Lulina pleaded.

  “Why would she be in danger?”

  “There’s today’s business and yesterday’s business. There are men within your family who grew up living to the old way we do business, and anything new is a threat. She’s not a Rogue. She’s a Lougotti, and she’s crossing over, and she’s a woman. You tell me why it’s not dangerous. And if you believe it’s not like that then you should really wonder why you’re not boss of the family.”

  It was a good point.

  “I do what I can,” I answered the prolong silence.

  Lulina nodded and grabbed my hand and led me to her bed. “Will you stay here with me tonight?”

  With Papa only two floors up, and Mr. White and Mr. Black maybe watching every single step Lulina was taking, this wasn’t a good idea.

  It was far from a good idea.

  I nodded anyway and started removing my jacket while she got the button to my jeans and then worked down my zipper.

  “You know, Tristan,” she said, looking up at me as she bent down to her knees, “we would have made a wonderful child.”

  The feeling of her working down my zipper had my pants tightening, my dick growing hard, the mention of children with another married woman – yes, my brother was dead but his body was still cooling – had me going limp.

  “What are you talking about, Lu?”

  “I’m just saying,” she answered, “we would have made a beautiful baby.”

  I laughed around the awkwardness, “you sure you just blowing smoke?”

  She smiled and my eyebrows furrowed even more. “I don’t smoke, Tristan.”

  I had wanted to think about her words. I felt as her warm fingers slipped through the fold of my pants and past the slit of my boxers.

  All attempted thoughts were gone.

  ***

  I cocked my head to the side as bottle smashed against the wall and shattered.

  “This is bullshit,” Zander inhaled a long pull of his cigarette and breathed it through his nose like a bull would breathe steam getting ready for a charge.

  He looked for something else to throw, while I lit my own cigarette and fanned out the flame from the match. “It’s not like we can say no.”

  “So Johnny’s dead,” Zander said.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Internally I was asking if I truly cared if my brother wasn’t here anymore. I listened to the even tone of my heart beat. My face was dry, devoid of tears, and I was only too sure it would remain that way.

  “He was stupid,” I said.

  “He was no different from us.”

  “And who’s us?”

  “We’re the smart ones, Tristan. We were the ones who tried to escape the family: you in pussy; me in family; Johnny in money.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  Zander huffed and patted his pockets for a cigarette and came up on his last one. He stuck it in his mouth, his dark eyes glaring at me while he crushed the empty box in his hand until his dark flesh turned white.

  The cigarette dangled unlit in his mouth. “Fucking convieant for Lulina, though, don’t you think? Johnny’s out – killed quietly - and her daughter’s in and blood is better than marriage.”

  I let my cigarette drop from my mouth and crushed the burning bud with the heel of my shoe. Sure we were indoors, in our hotel room, but the many burnt cigarette holes already in the carpet told me I wasn’t the first use the floor as an ashtray.

  My hands slid into my pockets. “You’re looking at me like you want me to do something about this transition.”

  “I do.”

  “What’s that?”

  There was a cruel curl in Zander’s lips as he said, “Kill Lulina’s hell spawn.”

  “I’m not a killer, Zan.”

  Zander raised his voice, almost screaming at me while the cigarette between his lips bounced and bobbed, and hung on for dear life. “Did you not even consider the reprocussion this shit can have?”

  “No. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  He leaned back on the bed and laughed. “We’re fucked up, T. We’re a liability.”

  “You’re the liability.”

  “No,” he corrected, “we are both a liability. We can’t be trusted. So what makes you not consider that new management won’t clean house, stenghten the strengths and clean out the weakness, the liabilities, and we may not make the cut.”

  “You’re still high, Zander.” It wasn’t that I thought he wasn’t making a good point. I knew he was.

  Somethings you choose not to hear, not to see. It was better to be surprised when the shit train came rolling in. Better that than see it coming and know there was nothing you could do to stop it.

  Zander wasn’t done with his sermon. “Kill her, Tristan. Don’t take any chances. We need a boss and I elect you.”

  “I don’t think your vote counts.”

  Zander found and secured an empty beer bottle. His eyes had gone from dark to blazing. His arm cocked back, ready for a throw that I knew wouldn’t miss.

  “Don’t do it, man,” I said, and couldn’t deny there was a shake in my voice.

  Zander let it fly. I moved my head out of the direct path but wasn’t so lucky this time around with the glass. A shard of brown glass caught me in the eyebrow. Before I could even feel the sting of the cut, or even the first drop of blood emerging, my gun was in my hand and the barrel was resting against Zander’s forehead.

  “I told you not to do it,” I
said through my teeth.

  He smiled at me. “Glad to see I got your attention.”

  And here was the sting in my eyebrow. Here was the blood dripping down the side of my face and wetting my dark shirt. “I told you I’m not a killer.”

  “You could have fooled me. And after tonight, you will be.”

  “That’s tonight, though, lucky for you or I would have put a hole in you.”

  He laughed. “You got it in you, Tristan. You do and it scares the shit out of me. You got everything you need to be just as ruthless and murderous as your father. I don’t even think Papa knows how dangerous you can be. You think, you act, and you can do both and still have some panache about it.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and put the gun away, slightly dismayed at how easy it was, and so simple to see myself pulling the trigger no matter who had been behind the bullet. “How about you get to the point in all this, Zan?

  “This little scheme Papa wants you to do put’s Lulina on very amazing ground within the family, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “You don’t want to hear it. You’ve been in love with Mrs. Johnny Rogue since you were kid. Don’t think you’re unscathed.”

  “Oh I’m scathed,” I laughed and lit another cigarette from my own dwindling pack. “At least I can keep the damage limited to sex and drinking. I’m good, Zan. My arms are clean.”

  Zander took my comment like a slam to the stomach, and for a blessed moment, he didn’t have another word to say. I wiped at the blood leaking from my eyebrow, half wondering if I needed stitches.

  Zander recovered slowly. “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t have a plan. I got a feeling on how this is supposed to go.”

  “What’s the feeling?”

  “Can’t put it into words yet.” And I really couldn’t.

  “That ain’t a big help, Tristan.”

  “I didn’t say it for you to feel better about anything, Zander. I said it because that’s what’s going on.”

  “So what time do we leave?”

  “You’re out, man,” I informed him.