Pike doesn’t appear as shocked as I thought he’d be at the fact that I just told him my sister, who I thought to be dead, was somewhere alive and hidden somewhere in the compound. “Tell me your plan, and tell me now,” Pike demands, pressing his knee between my legs. The anger from his eyes fades. “I didn’t ask you last time. I need to know. Tell me how you are going to take them down once you get the information you need.”
My fingers twitch to touch him but I keep my hands pressed to the wall by my side because I know that once I do I might not be able to form a coherent thought. “One, discover the main source of The Reich’s funding and cut it off. Two, find proof of my father’s lies and any skeletons in Darius’s closet and expose them to the members of the Reich. Three—”
“Kill Darius,” Pike finishes for me.
“And possibly Percy,” I add. “That would be it,” I say, laying it all out on the line. In order to live by my set of truths, I need Pike to know where my heart is. To be the one person who knows who I really am.
Even if sometimes, I’m not sure myself.
“You sure there’s no talking you out of this?” Pike asks. “Because me and my boys can take them out. You can just come home with me. Right now.”
“I want to,” I admit. “You have no idea how much I want to do just that, but this is bigger than me now.” I shake my head. “My current problem is that I can’t go back to the Reich without a recruit, and you just gave mine a bunch of money and told her to fuck off.” I sigh and let my head fall onto his shoulder. “But I can’t help being glad that you did.”
Pike rests his head against mine then lifts it. His eyes wide with an idea. “I’ve got a solution.”
“What?” I ask, hopefully.
“It’s not a what. It’s a who,” he says. “You’ve met her before.”
Instantly, I know who he’s talking about. “No, not her. Not again.”
Pike smiles and I want to both kiss him and smack him for being so smug.
“I wish you would just stay out of this so I don’t have to worry about you getting caught up in my mess!” I cry. As the words leave my lips, I know it’s not true. Yes, I want to keep Pike safe, but no I don’t want him to stay out of it. Not really. I need all the help I can get and Pike is the only person alive that I trust.
He rubs the pad of this thumb over my lips and they part on instinct. “It ain’t just your mess, Mic. Although it’s cute to think you caused all this shit. It’s just as much mine as it is yours and whether you like it or not I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to help you. Help us. And you’re going to let me,” he brushes his lips over mine.
My entire body trembles. “Why would I do that?”
“Because, deep inside you want to, and if that’s not enough,” he traces his lips over the sensitive skin of my ear. “Because I have Mindy.”
10
Mickey
I burst into Percy’s trailer unannounced and slam the door shut behind me, leaning against it, out of breath and dizzy.
Percy is on the bed, laying over the blankets, perched against the headboard with an open notebook in his lap and a pen pressed to the corner of his mouth. “You just get chased or something?” he asks, placing his pen between the pages and closing the book, pushing it off his lap onto the bed.
Chased out from the fucking dark, maybe.
“Why does Pike have Mindy?” I blurt.
Percy smiles. “Because he won’t hurt her, and because you trust him. I didn’t want her around these people, and I made you a promise. Lord knows what would happen to her here. Thought you might like to see her at Pike’s when all this shit is over.”
“You went there? To see Pike?” I ask breathlessly. “And he didn’t kill you? Why?” I’m yelling at him because I’m angry although I’m not sure if it’s because he went and brought Pike and my sister together without telling me or because he risked his life to do so. Either way, it was an impressive move and very brave, but I can’t help the anger exploding from within me from all of the unanswered questions that keep mounting on top of one another with each tick of the clock.
He shrugs. “I told him that I’m on your side. I told him everything. Plus, we made a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” I demand to know with a hand on my hip.
“The kind of deal that will take place when this is all over. He agreed.”
“But why are you on my side? When did you become this person? You haven’t told me shit,” I blurt, growing frustrated at not knowing, and irritated that I’ve been left in the dark.
Although, relieved that my sister is at Pike’s.
She’s safe. She’s finally safe.
“Sit. I’ll tell you.” Percy pats the bed beside him, and I take a seat. He pulls out a picture from between the pages of the notebook and passes it to me. It’s of a beautiful woman with bright brown eyes and a smile that could knock a man to his knees. “She’s gorgeous,” I say out of admiration.
“I know,” he says with a sigh, tucking the picture back into his journal then shoving the journal into a drawer.
“I hate to point out the obvious, but she’s a cop,” I say, referring to her dark blue uniform.
He chuckles. “Corrections Officer,” he says, with pure pride in his voice. “I’m surprised you didn’t mention that she’s also black.”
“I was waiting for you on that one,” I say. “How did you two meet?”
He smiles. “She was one of the Corrections Officers in the prison. She was assigned to my cell block”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Well, now that’s shocking. Continue.”
He tucks his hands beneath his head and leans back into the memory, staring up at the ceiling. “They can be pretty mean and rough to the inmates who deserve it, and I sure fucking deserved it. She used to kick the shit out of me almost daily, but it wasn’t nothing I didn’t have coming to me. One day, I was bleeding and broken and bruised, and I was still giving her attitude, still looking for more punishment when she put her nightstick away and offered me a deal. I go to a meeting. One of those groups that help people get out of gangs and shit. Once a week. I didn’t have to participate, and I didn’t have to believe in the shit. I just had to go, and the beatings would stop, and she would let me say whatever the fuck I wanted to say to her.”
“So, you took the deal?”
He turns his head toward me. “I would have been a fool not to, but she got one over on me. I went to the first meeting, sat in the back, and tuned out. Well, until she walked in and took the podium.”
“What did she say?”
There’s a distant look in his eyes as he recalls the memory. “She started to explain the kind of shit she faced every day. Not just for being black but also for being law enforcement. She explained how her little brother was killed when he knocked on a door asking for help with his broke down car, and how her other brother was killed because he joined a gang that fed him lies about belonging when he was expendable to them. A pawn to protect the king. How he was brainwashed. How much it hurt her and how much she hated him when all he needed was to reach out to her. How other black people from her community, including members of her own family, won’t speak to her because she’s a Corrections Officer and a lot of them distrust anyone in law enforcement.” He sighs. “She blamed herself for her brother’s death, and the reason she chose her line of work was to make a difference in the system. To promote change. We couldn’t be more different but I recognized a lot in her story as my own.” He smiles from ear to ear. “She’s the bravest fucking person I’ve ever met. Strong right hook, too.” He rubs his jaw at the memory.
“And that’s what did it? That’s what made you change?” I ask, curiously.
He sits back up. “Nobody can make you change, but she’s the one who made me begin to think twice about my life. I realized I was disobeying her and practically begging for daily beatings because I liked her attention, you know, in a perverted kind of way. I didn’t realize I actually liked her.
Never thought we’d be able to relate…until we did. I don’t just like her.” He laughs at the absurdity of it all. “I fucking love her, Mickey.”
“I’m…really proud of you, Percy.”
“Trust me, the shock you’re feeling is nowhere near the shock I was feeling.” He laughs, then looks at me. “What, the doctor ain’t got shit else to say? None of them fancy words of yours floating around in that big brain right now? Thought you’d at least give me some with more syllables than I have fingers. I admit, I’m kind of disappointed.”
“Watch it. Maybe, one day you and…”
“Benita. It means blessed,” he laments.
“Well, maybe one day we will live in a post Fourth Reich world. One where you and Benita will live in a house, and I’ll live in one nearby. We will be neighbors. I’ll come over on Sundays for dinner,” I say, imagining what that kind of life would look like.
“It’s a nice thought. You and I both know it’s not likely, but it is a nice thought…but why aren’t we coming over to your place for dinner?”
“It’s Sunday, my day off. I don’t want to cook,” I joke.
Percy lights another cigarette with the burning end of the butt in his hand. “It’s a deal, but why aren’t you including Pike in this? Don’t you mean you and Pike’s house?”
I grow quiet as the sadness takes over. “No, Pike has a life. A good one. My shit is a heavy weight to carry, and I’m not the easiest person in the world. He’d be…”
“Don’t you dare say he’d be better off without you because that ain’t true. No one would be better off without you, Dr. Michaela Lovejoy.”
“I guess only time will tell,” I say, not wanting to argue.
“Now, where are them big words about me and Benita?” he goads.
I punch him playfully in the shoulder, grateful for the change in subject. “No big words today, but I can tell you honestly that as your faux fiancé, I’m very happy that you’re in love with another woman.”
He punches me back. “And as your…whatever you just said that I’m assuming means fake fiancé, I can tell you that I’m very happy that you’re in love with another man. Even if it is Pike.”
“If only all couples could live in such blissful honesty,” I say, resting my head against his shoulder.
“All couples aren’t as fucked up as we are,” he says, wrapping an arm over my shoulder and kissing the top of my head.
“Tou-fucking-che.”
Percy wrinkles his nose. “Is that French for I agree that we are fucked?”
I nod. “It sure as hell is.”
“Hey, look at that. I’m bilingual now.” He laughs.
The laughter quickly fades to silence. We sit there on the bed, leaning against each other, watching the sunset through the window while wondering what the future might hold for us and our seemingly impossible dream.
If any at all.
“I really would like to meet her someday,” I tell him.
“I’m not bringing her around this shit. I’m not even going to see her until I’m a hundred percent clear, and I know no one will come after me. I can’t put her in that kind of danger.” He shakes his head. “I won’t.”
“Just like I didn’t want to drag Pike into it,” I agree. “That didn’t work.”
“No,” he says, sitting up and pushing me off of his shoulder. “It’s not the same.”
“How isn’t it the same? We both don’t want the people we love involved in our shit.”
“Because Benita is a civilian. I mean, she’s a Corrections Officer, but she’s not in this life. Pike is. Always has been. You keeping him away is like telling a thunderstorm to hold the rain. He was born for this shit. He’s already in this shit. He lives it. You have a loaded gun in your pocket, and you’re using it as a doorstop. You don’t need to protect him. You need to use him.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Would you say the same thing if Benita was Pike in this situation?”
“Hell fucking no, but she’s not.” Pike settles me back on his shoulder. “So, I can.”
“What do you want me to do, Percy?” I ask, but what I’m really asking is, “What should I do?”
“You should talk to him. Figure it out. See what he wants, and respect it just like he’s respected what you want although I’m sure it’s eating him up inside not to storm in here and blow my fucking head off.”
“You don’t know that,” I argue.
“I do. He fucking told me, besides, if you were him and he was telling you not to get involved, wouldn’t it eat you up?”
I cringe. “I hate it when you’re right. Stop it. It’s very unbecoming.”
“Get used to it. I’m going to try to be more right from here on out.”
I grab his earlobe and give it a tug. “Alright, alright. Quit it. Nobody told me that being friends with your fake fiancé would be so annoying. I think I’ll trade you in for a goat.”
“I’m worth at least three goats. And we already have a dog.”
Bruno is the Reich’s guard dog who patrols the grounds at night. I make a note to be nicer to him and maybe slip him some leftovers since I’ve never thought of him as our dog before.
I press my lips together and hold a finger to the corner of my mouth. “I’ll keep that in mind and aim high. Negotiations will be tough, but I’ll see what I can manage.”
Percy’s smile flattens. “Can you also manage a clean soul and freedom?”
I answer honestly, “If I could, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I used to understand everything. Or, at least, I think I understood everything. Now that I know that I don’t know jack shit and that I’m aware that I don’t know jack-shit?” He blows out a long breath. “It so much fucking worse.”
“I know how that feels. I wish I could just understand why people hate. The science behind it and then I could fix it. Or I could try to fix it. All of my research and all I have is more questions. Like, why do they hate black people in particular?”
There’s no answer he can give me that will justify or give reason to all of this. Nothing that will make me feel any better about what I saw in the hallway. Nothing that can quell the unease and unrest. Nothing that can counteract the large dose of fucking WOKE now coursing through my veins.
Percy raises his eyebrows. “That’s not true,” he replies,
I point to the swastika hanging above his bed. “That says otherwise.”
He swings his legs to the end of the bed. “No, I mean the Reich doesn’t just hate black people. They also hate the Jews, Hispanics, homosexuals, bisexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses, feminists…” He ticks the list off on his tattooed fingers. “Oh, yeah, and liberals.”
“So, just like the Nazis then?” I ask, feeling a sickness in my stomach. Acid trying to purify the hatred I’ve been swallowing and ignoring for years.
He swipes at the corner of his lip with his thumb and leans on his elbows. “Nope. The Nazis were also against alcoholics. And I don’t know if you’ve gotten a good look at the size of the bar at the gatherings lately, but you won’t find too much opposition to that here. Nazis also murdered the mentally ill, and well, you can’t exactly be sane to spout the shit that they do here.” He looks to the floor and rubs his palm over his face. “I know I wasn’t. I just wish I realized all this sooner, or never. This in-between shit is fucking killing me. But I was deaf to anything other than the hate ringing in my ears back then. That’s for fucking sure.”
“That’s who you were,” I tell him. “Albert Einstein once said, The measure of intelligence is the ability to change, and that’s what you’ve done. What you’re working on. Changing. I, myself, just realized what I’ve been passing off as witnessing and studying, is actually passive behavior. I’ve been standing by and watching all of this. The violence, the propaganda, the disgusting things said, without doing a damn thing about it. How does that make me any better?”
Percy scoffs. “Michaela, Not doing anything doesn’t make you a racist asshole. You never
terrorized black-owned businesses or got locked up for burning a Jewish-owned hardware store to the ground for no reason at all. I was a racist asshole. You were a pawn in our fathers’ weird plans,” he says, trying to relieve me of some of the guilt I can feel he’s all too familiar with.
“So, were you,” I point out.
He rolls his eyes as if it’s not the same, even though we are both a product of manipulation. “Still, not doing anything don’t make you a fucking racist. It don’t make you one of them,” he points out. He reaches for a pack of cigarettes and pulls one out with his teeth, tossing the pack back onto the nightstand. He leans back against the headboard and lights it, staring up at the symbol above his head as he takes a drag, then quickly looks away from the symbol that probably haunts him at night, one he can probably still see even though his eyes are shut tight. “You ain’t ever been a bad person. I knew that when we were kids, and I know it now.”
A thought occurs to me. A truth I can set free.
“There is a wrong I can right,” I sit up and take a deep breath. “Pike isn’t the one who ratted on you. Who got you locked away.”
“I know,” he says, his answer taking me by surprise.
He frowns. “After I got out of the joint, my old man was spewing his regular bullshit about Pike. The blame he placed on him for me catching so much time had only gotten worse. Has only gotten worse. Not only was Pike the one who ratted on me, but he’s now the one responsible for my mother’s death. At first, I bought it. I didn’t think the old man would lie to me about some shit as serious as the person responsible for killin’ my moms. I did some diggin’ of my own. I asked some of the OG members who were around back then about my moms. Made them think I was just reminiscing about her. It turns out she ran away from this fucking place, from Darius, when I was seven. Darius always told me she was running from someone and left it at that. Never said it was him she was running from. I Googled her name and found the article. She died in a car accident shortly after she left.”
Pawn: The Pawn Duet, Book Two Page 10
