Reginald Harwinton chuckled and pointed the business end of a Sig Sauer pistol at me. His other hand was fisted in Sherese’s hair—or the patchy remains of it, anyway. Most of it had been singed off, leaving her scalp burned and blistered.
“We been waitin’ for you. Ain’t that right, Sherese?”
Sherese stood stock still. Beads of perspiration had formed on her upper lip, and I watched as they travelled slowly down her jaw line.
“I said, ‘ain’t we been waitin’ for the bitch?’” He yanked hard on her hair so that her head flopped back and forth in assent like a drunken rag doll. “That’s better. I don’t like to be ignored.”
Sherese stole a glance at me, and I could feel the pain in her dark, pleading eyes. It pushed the fear out of my own. My heart beat slowed, and an unnatural calm washed over me as my brain clicked into survival mode. No. Warrior mode.
I took quick note of the enemy. He was shorter than I’d envisioned, about five foot nine, with hair that hung in thick dreads and draped over one eye like a curtain. The hand that held the gun was large and sported long, dirty fingernails. He opened his mouth and smiled wide showing a missing front tooth. All in all, he was quite the catch for some lucky girl.
My eyes swept the room in search of something I could use as a weapon. The coffee table that once held a week’s worth of dishes and cutlery was maddeningly empty. Sherese couldn’t have picked a worse time to go become a model housekeeper.
I tucked my left hand into my right to hide the Clear Knuckles and forced myself to return his smile. “Mr. Harwinton? Or may I call you Torch. Actually, I was hoping to run into you.”
His smile faltered. “Is that so?”
My voice held steady betraying no emotion. It seemed to throw him off-balance. “Well, we’re running in the same circles lately. Mario Lewis, Calvin Doyle. And I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s been taking pot shots at me. I thought it would be nice to have some face time. Get to know each other better. We have a lot to talk about.”
“Yeah?” he asked, amused. “Like what?”
“Wade Stoller for starters. You’ve been working for him, right? He hired you to kill me and make it look like the gang did it, didn’t he? The only thing I don’t get is why.”
“Cause you a nosy bitch is why. You need to learn to mind your own business.”
Funny, he wasn’t the first to point that out to me.
“So,” I said, ignoring his excellent advice, “Let’s see if I got this straight. Stoller was using his dog sniffing business to help smuggle drugs into the country. He hired you and your friends to distribute the drugs. But Mario fucked up. So, he asked you to get rid of the mess. Only, Cal told him he’d left evidence behind, so he sent you to look for it. But you haven’t been able to find anything.”
“Not yet I haven’t. I need for Sherese to cooperate.” He puckered his lips and leaned into her, and laid a slobbering kiss on her mouth. Sherese recoiled, as the tears she had kept in check now streamed down her face.
“That’s right, Baby,” Harwinton crooned. “You give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Wow, this guy had a tough time reading social cues. Sherese was clearly not enjoying his overtures, romantic or otherwise.
My bravado was beginning to wane and my legs were on the verge of collapse. We needed to buy some time, so I decided to take a gamble.
“Okay,” I bluffed and prayed Sherese would go along with it. “Maybe Cal did leave something at the house. Something that could put Stoller away for life. But, if we gave it to you, how do we know you wouldn’t kill us anyway?”
Harwinton’s face contorted into a cruel smile. “You don’t get it, do you, bitch? It ain’t a question of if I’m gonna kill you. It’s a question of how you gonna die. Now,” he pointed the pistol directly at my chest, “I could do it quick and merciful—” he paused and stuffed the gun into his belt and, with a showman’s flair, pulled out the blow torch— “or slow and painful.” Lovingly, he fired it up and grinned as a jet of blue and orange flame burst from the nozzle.
Sherese’s knees buckled and she pitched forward. Harwinton caught her and yanked her back up by her remaining strands of hair, and she whimpered like a wounded pup.
Stoller’s insane lackey shook his head, as if marveling at the peculiar nature of man. “You know, whenever I set fire to a guy, it’s always the same. They turn into little girls. They be wailing their heads off as the pain gets worse and worse. And pretty soon they smell their own flesh burning, and they start making noises that ain’t even human. It’s a beautiful thing. Like nothin’ you could ever imagine.” He pressed his face against Sherese’s. “Cal was funny. He cried like a baby before I even got started.’”
I felt my bowel spasm. Ever since I was a kid I’ve had an unholy fear of being burned alive. And if I’ve learned anything over the course of the past year, it’s that nightmares do come true.
Harwinton cranked up the flame. “Now,” he demanded. “Why don’t you show me what y’all got?” He took some tentative steps in the direction of the bedroom.
“No!” Sherese screamed. “There ain’t nothin’ in there.”
“Really? Cause you acting like you hiding something.” He beckoned me forth with the flame of the torch and propelled Sherese forward.
And that’s when we saw her. Sherese’s young daughter, Ayana, stood motionless in the hallway, her eyes wide with fear.
Oh, holy mother of God. How could I have forgotten about the kids?
Harwinton shot her a chilling smile. ‘Well, what we got here?”
The little girl stood mutely rooted to the spot.
“Sherese, why don’t she speak when she’s spoken to? Seems I need to teach your girl some manners.” We watched, horrified, as he turned the flame toward the little girl.
“Don’t you touch my baby!” With the strength only a mother protecting her child could summon, Sherese wrenched out of Torch’s grasp and knocked the lit canister from his hand. It sailed across the living room and landed in the corner.
“What ‘chu doin’ you crazy bitch?” Rearing back, he made a massive fist and punched her in the stomach. Sherese flew backwards from the force of the blow and slammed her head against the wall. Her body went limp as she slid to the floor.
I dove for Harwinton knocking him off- balance. He toppled over onto his stomach, and I followed suit, landing squarely on his back.
“Mama!” Ayana ran to her mother and knelt down beside her, crying.
“Ayana,” I shouted. “I’ll take care of your mom. You go get your brother. Now! Take him out the back door to Candice’s and tell her to call the police.”
I watched her run off in the direction of the bedroom and then turned my attention to the monster I’d landed on. With little effort, he flipped onto his back and grabbed me by the arm. I brought my leg up and kneed him in the nuts. Harwinton let loose with a torrent of curse words and tried to work the gun out of his belt, but in his rush, he only managed to push it farther down into his pants.
With my free arm, I landed a Clear- Knuckled blow to his chin, momentarily stunning him. Before he could react, I slugged him again. His head bounced against the floor and he lay there not moving.
Suddenly, I became aware of a weird, orange glow emanating from the corner of the room. Fuckin’ A. The drapes are on fire.
I scrambled to my knees and tried to rouse Sherese, but she was out cold. Quickly, I grabbed her by the ankles and maneuvered her toward the front door.
As the fire steadily grew, the air became thick with smoke, infusing my lungs with a heavy, burning sensation. I watched, terrified, as the flames spread to the couch.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What do I do?
There was a sudden tugging around my waist. I dropped Sherese’s legs as Harwinton dragged me to the floor and straddled me. His face was shiny with sweat, his breathing labored, his pupils so enlarged they looked like Oreos.
His hands reached for my t
hroat and clamped down. “You god damn cocksucking bitch,” he rasped, tightening his hold.
I thrust my arms up between his and broke his grip on my neck. Harwinton tried to reposition when something else caught his attention. I followed his gaze with my eyes. The blow torch lay about a foot from my head.
“Slow and painful,” he hissed.
Simultaneously, we reached for the canister. As the fleshy part of his arm hovered over my face, my South Philly grammar school training automatically kicked in. I bit him. Hard. Harwinton flinched and pulled back leaving himself wide open. I reached up and shoved my thumb directly into his eye.
Enraged, he flung out his other hand and smacked me in the mouth. It hurt like hell, but it was just the diversion I needed. I twisted away from him and snatched the canister off the rug and brought it up to one side of his face. I couldn’t think about the moral aspect of what I was about to do. It was either do it or die. So I did.
His screams were everything he’d described; long, piercing, animal-like wails as his dreads burst into flame and slapped at the blistered flesh on his face.
With frantic desperation he leaped to his feet and made a jagged run for the front door.
Sherese began to stir. She sat up and coughed; her voice barely audible over the din of the fire. I rushed over and stuck my arms underneath her and dragged her to her feet.
“We have to get out of here, Sherese. Don’t talk. Here, cover your mouth with your shirt and let me lead you.” She was too confused to argue and docilely allowed me to lead her through the kitchen and out the side door.
Out on the street a crowd had gathered. Judging by the muted sounds of the sirens, it would be a few minutes before the emergency vehicles arrived. I wondered, briefly, where Torch was, but I didn’t let myself dwell on it. Wherever he was, he was a hurtin’ buckaroo.
I spied Roger and Candice King in the crowd. Candice held onto Ayana’s hand and tried to comfort the traumatized child. An immediate and all consuming fear came over me. Battling our way through the crowd, we reached the Kings.
I crouched eye level to the little girl. “Ayana, honey. Where’s your brother?”
Ayana began to shake all over. “I couldn’t find him. I looked and looked.”
Sherese howled and flung herself toward her rapidly disintegrating home. Roger scooped her up holding her in his protective arms.
The fire engines were still a ways away and time was running out. If there was any other choice, I would have taken it in a heartbeat. But there wasn’t. I raised my eyes to heaven and thanked God for chocolate, my friends and my family and made a dash for the side of the house.
Half way there, I heard my name. I turned and saw Nick running to catch up with me. “Are you okay?” His face was pale; his jaw set as he silently checked me for injuries.
I nodded, barely able to speak. “The baby. He’s still in the house. I have to go.”
Before I could finish the sentence he pulled me by the arm and handed me off to one of Sherese’s massively large neighbors. “Don’t let her near the house and there’s a thousand bucks in it for you.” To me he stated quietly, “I’ll find him, Angel.”
“No. I can’t let you do this,” I sobbed and struggled to free my arm from the neighbor’s grasp.
Nick gestured to the guy, who grabbed both my arms and twisted them behind my back.
“Go easy,” Nick admonished. “I expect her back in one piece.”
In less than a year’s time I had witnessed the Zen side of Nicholas Santiago, the gritty, and the sophisticated. But as he entered the burning building I made a mental note to add one more. Super hero.
Mere seconds had passed, but it felt like an eternity. I watched in helpless wonder as the fire grew to seismic proportions, spewing thick black smoke from the chimney. There was an enormous popping sound as the front window exploded spraying chunks of glass onto the lawn. Burning embers floated from the sky and landed on my arms. Ash got in my eyes and filled my lungs, but I barely noticed. All I could think of was Nick.
And then, the unthinkable happened.
As I strained my eyes against the dark, smoky night, suddenly, the roof collapsed. Candice picked up a shrieking Ayana and held her close, shielding her from the debris. Sherese moaned into Roger’s shoulder.
“We need to get them over to our house,” Candice instructed her husband. She turned to me, her voice gentle. “You should come, too, honey.”
“I’m fine where I am, Candice. I need to be here for when Nick comes back.”
Roger patted my shoulder. “Of course you do. We’re right across the street if you need us.”
Rescue workers now filled the narrow street. Fire fighters leaped from their trucks, and, in a flurry of orchestrated activity, unleashed torrents of water on the burning building.
The captain stood on the sidewalk barking orders to his crew. He was a big man in his late forties. I thought I recognized him from the gym. I pushed my way through the crowd to reach him. “Captain Greco,” I read off his name plate.
“Ma’am, please step back onto the pavement. We need to keep this area clear.” He cut me a quizzical look. “Hey, aren’t you related to Frankie Brentano?”
“He’s my uncle. Listen, there are people trapped in the house. A man and a little boy. Please. You have to help them.”
Captain Greco gazed at the inferno and then back at me. “We’ll do everything we can, but I’ve got to be honest with you. It doesn’t look good. I figured if you’re Frankie’s niece you’re tough enough to handle the truth.”
Oh, for the love of God, man. Why would you think that? Lie to me!
I was on the edge of full-blown hysteria, when a deafening cheer rose up from the crowd. A man had emerged from the side of the building. He walked slowly, as if he bore the weight of the world, which, in a way, he did. In his arms he carried a squirmy thirty pound package. The man was drenched in sweat and covered in soot, and he never looked more beautiful in his life.
Ambulance workers rushed to Nick’s aid. One of the EMT’s took Sherese’s son from his arms while the other tried to place an oxygen mask over Santiago’s’s face. He waved them away and sank wearily to the pavement.
My heart filled to overflowing, I knelt down beside him and threw my arms around his neck and kissed every inch of his magnificent, grimy face. “What took you so long?” I joked to keep from bawling.
“He wouldn’t leave without this.” Nick held up the hobby horse, now blackened from the fire.
And then I lost it completely.
“C’mon, Angel. Let’s go home.”
*****
At noon the following day, Fran, Janine, Carla, John and I sat in the comfort of a cushy, red leather booth at my brother’s club, tossing back Rolling Rocks while I recounted the evening’s events. Okay, technically, I wasn’t “tossing” so much as sipping my beer through a straw. My mouth was still pretty sore from where Torch had hammered on me. I guess I didn’t have much to complain about, considering what I’d done to him, but still…
I’d gotten about three hours of sleep and was running on empty. First, I’d had to give my statement to the cops, and then there was the overnight stop at the hospital after Nick almost hacked up a lung on the way back to his car.
“I’m okay, Darlin’,” he’d insisted.
“Humor me.” I was consumed with guilt over the fact that if Nick hadn’t come looking for me when he did, he never would’ve been put in such danger. “Please.”
In the end he let me drive him to Jefferson where he was greeted with a hero’s welcome and a private room. As if his looks alone wouldn’t have warranted such treatment, the on-duty nurses had seen the news footage of his dramatic rescue of Sherese’s son and flocked to his bedside to offer aid and comfort.
Unfortunately for them, I was occupying the other half of the single bed.
“You need to go,” instructed Nurse Terri DuCote.
“Make me.”
Nick squeezed my hand. It cou
ld have been a sign of affection or a sign for me to shut up. I preferred to think it was the former. He turned to the nurse with a disarming smile. “There’s really no arguing with her. She’ll just sneak back in, in the middle of the night, so do you think you could make an exception, just this once?”
Nurse DuCote blushed and returned the smile. She looked back at me and nodded. “Personally, I wouldn’t leave him, either, honey.”
Nick fell asleep quickly, but it was fitful. Just as I began to doze off he jerked awake, calling my name. When I asked him about it in the morning, he said he didn’t remember. And, for the first time since I’d known him, I got the feeling he wasn’t telling me the entire truth.
While I waited for Nick to sign his release papers, I checked my voicemail. There were 34 messages, including one from WINN. Something about an exclusive in exchange for giving me my old job back. For the next fifteen minutes I tried to come up with creative ways to tell them to go screw themselves. I settled for I’ll get back to you. It might not have been the most personally satisfying response, but as my dad always says, it doesn’t pay to burn bridges.
Nick’s car was still at Sherese’s, so I offered to drop him off there.
“You broke out in a sweat just saying the words, Darlin.’ I don’t think you’re up for a return visit just yet. I’ll ask Alphonso to pick it up for me.”
Instead, I took him back to his apartment. I pulled into the loading zone and cut the engine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “Do you want me to go upstairs with you?”
“I’m absolutely fine. I’ve got a meeting scheduled for this afternoon, but I should be finished by six. If you’re not busy, why don’t you come over?”
“Okay.” I was quiet for a minute, my thoughts going to the exact place I had forbidden them to go. Stupid thoughts.
“What’s wrong, Angel?”
“I was so scared, Nick. I really believed I was going to die. Not just die, but that it would…you know…really, really hurt.”
No Such Thing as a Lost Cause Page 25
