“Yes. One of his goons fucked up bad. Don't know how badly. I was only six. So to pay penance, he stood in front of my papi and slit his own throat from ear to ear. That's what the fam does. It's the highest respect for making a mistake.”
“But ain’t no coming back to that. Why?”
I skip over her questions, knowing it will take some time for Rockwell to understand. “After that the crew went to do big things. Papi had them like an army–mind you, tho, they weren’t running no games like your Uncle Marcel. Shit, not even what Lorenzo and that bitch ass Santi can compare. No one before, no one after, can touch my papa. You've evidently seen his work in newspapers.”
Rockwell nods heavily.
“Well, that's where we are going, Rocky. So keep your eyes wide open and ya ears close to the walls.”
“No!” Rockwell says. “No, we need to go back. We shouldn't go there.”
I pause, wondering if I should tell her all. But Rockwell tells Lorenzo everything; she's fully bonded to him. It’s a blessing and a curse for him to have a love like her. And I wouldn't expect anything less than Rocky to go back and tell Lorenzo. I could only respect it. So instead of telling her all, I snap, “Remember what I told you before we left The H?”
“Don't trust nobody?”
“Yeah. If it ain't the fam.”
She nods, and then looks like she wants to ask a question. But, I add, “Stay close.”
“I will,” Rockwell convinces. “But why would Lorenzo want our children to grow up there? His sisters? You?”
“He's young and the nigga likes to think more of himself.” I shrug. “Contrary to what he thinks, he doesn’t know shit.”
I leave Rocky to stew in that new bit of info. Maybe I should feed her the story little by little so she doesn't run away from us all. Soon as the thought crosses my mind, I shake my head and start for the cockpit.
“Javier…” I call out, slowly opening the door. When I step inside of the tiny room, Javier is leaning back in the copilots chair sleep, with a pistol in his lap, and his trigger finger married to the gat.
I smirk and then scream “Javier!”
This idiota almost shoots himself. Straightening up, the pilot laughs as Javier says, “Si, si mi bonita!”
I ask him for my gun in Spanish.
“No, mommi.”
I put my hand on my hip and get real with him. Since he will love me forever, I tell him of my plan to murder Santiago when I get home.
“Si?” He rubs his chin. “Can I stay a while? See the bitch bleed?”
“Hell, no!” I snap, “Stupido! How would I look coming home with you, Javier?”
He grabs my hand. “You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Can we at least fuck once more before you go on this suicide mission?”
I slap his face with all that I've got. The smack reverberates off the plane’s walls. The echo of Javier’s laughing follows me back to my seat.
Chapter 14
LORENZO.
How the fuck I make it home before my family? I'm standing at the airstrip, just put a hit on my pilot’s entire family for letting the Jamaicans pull that stunt. Santiago had his personal plane come get Blu, Popeye, Phillip, and me.
“Nigga, will you smile.” Blu comes and grabs the back of my neck. She puts her forehead to mine like when we werere kids. She got this happy air about her, which is new for attitude having Blu, but I'm fucking pissed.
“Nah” I move out of her grip. “Not till I see my girl.”
“Rocky just spoke with you. She's okay! You need to be praying to God right now!”
I side-eye Blu. Now I know my sister ain’t pulling the Jesus card. Man, I've done too much bad to be asking God for anything these days. I’ma always thank Him for another day, but a nigga like me ain't worth shit to be asking God a damn thing.
“You know Rocky can talk a good game,” Popeye says as Blu hugs him. Something about Blu ain’t right, she ain’t never been nice. No hugging, touching, nothing.
“They are all safe because Rocky prolly told those muthafuckas to be nice. She killed them with kindness,” Blu jokes. And this chick ain’t never tried to be funny either.
I almost smile. Rockwell is that sweet girl when she ain't acting a fool.
A busted ass plane starts to make its descent and damn, I am wondering how my familia even flew in that. It takes a cool minute for the exit door to drop, hitting the dust with a thud. First out is my son. Junior’s eyes widen as he runs up to me. Lil’ nigga need to be in football, not baseball as he jumps up. I hug him real tight. Next out is my youngest sister, Lorenza. Toi steps out afterwards. Rita steps out with this ugly ass Cuban muthafucka all up under her. I dismiss that shit real quickly; I’ll check the Cubano later. “Aye, where Lakitha and Rocky?”
“Big bro, take it easy,” Lakitha stands at the top of the steps. It ain’t room to get around her chubby self, but I start up and my sister blocks the door with her fat hips. “Excuse me, Lorenzo, I’m getting off this plane and don’t hear no hello, how are you, or anything.”
“I love you, Lala. Where the fuck is Rocky?”
“Damn brother!” Lakitha says in that white girl voice of hers. “Give Rockwell a minute.”
She starts to turn around. I can tell she's helping my girl. Then she takes a hand, and my beautiful baby comes walking down the stairs with her. Rocky’s light brown hair is in perfect ringlets down her back, and even though her tummy is starting to show, it ain’t got shit on her hips. Rocky’s body is on point, but her heart-shaped face twists with worry.
“Lorenzo,” Rocky breathes hard. “I don't feel...”
Lakitha holds her hand but I reach around and grab up Rockwell. “Rocky!” I almost slap her face. I'm so scared. I start rubbing her cheek and holding her up. “Rocky, baby please. What the fuck is wrong with my baby?”
Rita is starting back up the stairs. “Bring her out, Lorenzo, damn. Rockwell just needs air. Put her down!”
“Where?” My lady ain't finna lay passed out on no damn concrete runway. I snatch off my button up and put it under her head. “Moms! HACER ALGO–DO SOMETHING.”
“Boy move!” Moms comes to kneel down beside her.
“Lorenzo...” My bae tiny voice is sweet as can be.
“Damn girl, you fucking scared me.” I try not to be hard but I'm pissed. I scoop Rocky into my arms and hug her.
“Lorenzo, don't be mad at me.”
“I ain't mad at ya.”
“But I was mean to you when you left. Bae, I'm so sorry.” She kisses my cheek softly. “You ain't leaving me no more?”
“Damn, girl everyday you trip on me. I know that can’t be your problem?” I laugh, holding her even closer. Shit, I really am not feeling this out of control stuff.
“But promise you ain’t leaving me no more?”
“Nah girl.”
“Not for a minute?”
“Hell nah.”
She smiles.
“Don't let this little heifa fool you,” Toi comes up smiling. “Rocky helped save us.”
“Not really...” Rockwell says, trying to get down. I’ma hold her till we get to the Chevy Silverado’s lined up at the gates a few yards away, that my goons are already packing with luggage, I can’t even fathom how she made it on that raggedy ass plane with my fam.
“What happened?”
“Nothing much,” Rita shrugs.
“Moms killed a grip of muthafuckin’ yardie’s,” Toi chuckles.
“Stop all that cussing,” Lakitha shakes her head.
“Stop acting like somebody, ma,” Toi shakes her head.
“All y'all chill,” I cut off my sisters, “Just get in the trucks so we can get y'all home.”
I can hear mom mumbling home under her breath like it’s a lie. She stays back with her Cuban dude for a second before saying something that makes me want to throw a haymaker to the smile on homeboy face. Then she struts away like she hot shit. Ol’ boy better be glad he's walking back to the plane.
>
“Mind ya bidness, son,” she says as I start placing Rockwell in the car.
“Renzo, stop looking so mean too,” Rockwell adds.
Damn, broads surround me, so I ain’t saying or doing shit.
Chapter 15
RITA.
Javier is so sweet. In another lifetime, just maybe we could be about that love he is known to speak of. I think Javier was even more in love with me today since I didn't pull anything. Every time we met in the past, I had to fuck him over. Really, I did like Javier, but he had something I needed for my familia. Either for Papi or for Santi–can’t remember who made me fuck over Javier first. But, at first, I kept my sex life separate from my work, until one of my familia wanted me to mess over the Cubans. Javier must understand that since we’re cool again, or either he’s just that much of a punk. Either way, Javier even gave me his prized knife and told me to go with God as he kissed me. Maybe he thinks Santi will murk me before I can do what must be done.
I step out the truck as we pull into a mansion of burnt orange stucco. It’s only a few blocks away from Santiago's mansion–my papi’s mansion, my childhood home. Go figure; my son would want to live so close, in this lavish place with almost a hundred rooms.
When we step inside of a grand entrance with a marble water fountain, I roll my eyes. There’s room for each of Lorenzo’s four sisters and one for me, as if Lorenzo has been waiting for this day. Wishful thinking ass even made sure there was a sauna and steam room because he knew I loved those.
I shake my head and lay back on the pillow top bed in my room. The furniture is heavy wood and very expensive. Lorenzo, with his few words, had his decorator make my room exactly as I've said I’d like when we were slumming in the Hoover Projects. Cool thing about it? Looks just like my room back home before Santi took over and Papi León died...
With that thought in mind, I take Javier’s knife out my pocket. There's to be a family dinner tonight. Santi’s last dinner.
Chapter 16
BLU.
Lorenzo said that Popeye has been searching for me. I shoulda known. He's still my husband. Technically, I'm still his duty… but then again, those are Colombiano standards and I married a nigga, so he really doesn’t have to. For months, I've been praying to see him. But now... I look like shit. We ain't really cool like that either. I just came through after being strung out on drugs before Keandre kidnapped me. Moms was part of the intervention to save me from that heroin. And y’all know that R&B singer, aka Popeye, is Head Captain Save-A-Hoe.
Right before I was taken, we were in contact. Popeye tried to do that convo thing where we talk shit out, but I wanted him to just go. I wanted better for him.
Now at Rockwell’s suggestion, we’re being put into the pool house with our child. It’s a regular three-bedroom, two-bathroom pad on the opposite side of the mansion. Soon as we got here, Popeye puts Phillip in one of the guest bedrooms to sleep. I had to take a shower. I look at my body in the mirror. There are scratch marks from Keandre, and even more bite marks from the one time I was with Patrol. If the nigga hadn’t thought twice about divorcing me after I got on drugs, he should now.
I try not to frown while putting on a pair of Rocky’s jeans and one of her couture blouses, even though these aren’t my style. Popeye still hasn’t entered the master bedroom, so I step out. Phillip is still knocked out in his room, on the large bed. His tiny frame is damn near swallowed in the middle.
Popeye comes up behind me and says, “You know lil’ man went crazy soon as he saw you. Phillip is still knocked out. He gon’ wake up wanting to eat a fucking horse.”
“Hey, I'm glad you came here with me.” I don't know what to expect, especially since he doesn’t wrap his arms around me. It's been years since we lived as man and wife. After making it away from Patrol and Keandre it’s only a matter of time ‘fore I fuck shit up with my mouth, my fists, or just plain me.
“You're my family, girl.” Popeye finally pulls me into a hug. Damn, I melt in his arms. Just miss those lips so bad. But I can’t…
“What are you going to do?” I ask, letting him go. This ain’t the time or the moment for me to make this awkward situation even crazier. ‘Why the fuck did Rocky put us in this house all alone?’
“Whatchu mean, Blu?” Popeye asks, looking me in the eyes.
I try not to stare at his handsome face or those lips. “When me and you didn't work out, you stopped working for Lorenzo. Got a nine to five. Now that I ain’t running the streets looking for drugs and you know where I am, what you finna do?”
“Damn, Blu, you ready for me to go back to The H? We ain’t even been here one night.”
“Nah nigga! Get over yourself with that. I'm just saying… you became a square.” I start laughing to play it off. But I just want to know if I should set up my heart for another heartbreak. “Not like that dude. You just had a good situation going. Lauren and a job...them Jamaicans good as dead.”
“Fuck them Jamaicans. Lauren bitch ass is out of my life. I didn’t know Lauren was disrespecting–”
“Uh-uh… boy, don’t go there.” I shake my head. I don’t want him to apologize about his stupid ass girlfriend, Lauren who had been telling Phillip that I was such a bad mommy.
“Blu, I don't expect shit. You always made sure I knew that us was based on how you felt on any given day, even when I laced you down with a ring, right?”
“Yeah,” I mumble even though this nigga sounds like he has an attitude.
He starts toward the door and then a minute later I hear the television. So, what does this mean? So does that mean Popeye is done fighting for me?
Chapter 17
POPEYE
What should I do with what Blu and me got going–or don’t have going? Just a second ago I was thinking that she wanted me to take my black ass back to Hoover, when before we left she was all for me coming.
Blu gets active. I’m used to her ass telling me to get the fuck on or whatever she wants. Now, I’m sitting in the den of this large house watching TV. Some soccer game is on, but I can’t get my wife out my head.
I lean back in the soft leather seat and shrug. These walls won't be hearing moaning anytime soon. Yeah, I know. Take my time with it; romance her. Make her comfortable. Only God knows what those muthafuckin’ Jamaicans put Blu through; but how the fuck do I romance this girl?
Man, I loved her for so long, but she ain't the type you give flowers or tell cutesy shit to. Blu was always a taker. I could go back and put it down right at this moment.
If she don't want the pipe tho, that's death to my ego.
There's some impatient knocking at the sliding door in the kitchen. I wait a second to see if Blu is going to answer, but nah. Maybe she went to one of those extra bedrooms. And that’s just it. Am I supposed to take another one of the bedrooms or sleep with her?
Damn, I never put this much thought into any female in my life. Not ever.
“A’ight!” I shout as the knocking gets louder. I stand up on the marble flooring and start for the kitchen. The sliding door leads to the pool that seperates my family from the rest of the Medinas.
It’s barely open when Toi says, “We all going to dinner at my uncle’s.” She unfolds impatient arms, and starts off in a short ass skirt that I know Lorenzo will have a problem with.
“When Toi?” Damn, I heard about how lil’ dude she was feeling got put down by Patrol. So, I’ma let the eye-rolling slide.
“In a few,” she tosses over her shoulder and continues back to the main house.
I met Santi once. No disrespect to the fam, but that muthafucka ain't all there in the head.
“You getting ready?” says a tiny voice behind me.
I turn around and Blu is standing against the wall.
“Popeye, you getting ready for my uncle’s dinner?” Blu asks again.
“Uhhh…” First, she ain’t ever asked me shit before. I always had to remind her who was boss either nicely or with the dick, but now she’s asking. Final
ly, my stupid ass gathers the right words to say. “Phillip sleep. I’ma pass on the dinner party tonight and…” I start for the fridge, opening one of the stainless steel doors and the fridge is clean and empty. The freezer is the same.
Phillip comes running into the kitchen like that afternoon nap recharged his battery to 100. So I’m guessing there won’t be no him sleeping through the night. Matter of fact, Blu and me kicking it like we used too ain't finna happen either.
As if she already has the answer Blu says. “I know my uncle is going to have some type of welcome party, so just put on your best.” She kneels to Phillip and picks him up. Phillip says something into his mom’s ear as she hefts him around her waist.
“C’mon baby, let’s go get you looking fly so you can meet your Tio Santi.”
Standing here stumped, I’m confused yet again. Do I go back to Hoover after this dinner party or nah? What the fuck does my wife want?
Chapter 18
ROCKWELL.
We’re standing in a beautiful master suite, even better than the one I left in Miami. I’m alive. My nigga is alive. Now, why does Renzo have to ruin it with anger? Standing in a bra and panties, you’d think I’d be glowing since I was fucked by my nigga. But he’s got me ready to cry. There are turquoise and gold crystal vases all over. Lorenzo had the room set up just the way I would’ve wanted it. He’s always been that considerate, when he wants to be. But right now, Renzo is being a beast.
“Damn Rocky, you can cry all those tears. I swear for God, Fitz family dead.”
“Don't swear to God!” I glare at Lorenzo. Why is he always so hard? “Lorenzo, Fitz was forced. He came out to apologize and Rita–”
“Putting a slug in dude’s head doesn't pay the price if my whole family is taken by them Jamaicans!”
“Were we taken?” I ask, sniffling back more tears.
“Get dressed, Rockwell. We’re having dinner at my family home. There's clothes already in here for you, bae.”
I look around. The balcony is so large, with a wicker couch and stone fireplace. I’d rather be chilling with a glass of Moscato, cuddling with my bae, and gazing to the ocean right below.
Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug 2 (Loving a Columbian Cartel Thug) Page 5
