by T. Styles
“Yes she is responsible!” Noah yelled. “Everything she fucking touches rots! She killed Aunt Bunny and she tried to kill you too, dad. Aunt Bunny laid it all out in the letter she wrote me before she died.”
I could feel Ramirez and Bradley look at me and I felt uncomfortable.
“Son, I don’t know why you think your mother would be responsible for killing Aunt Bunny but it’s not true,” he lied. “And whoever told you that, including your deceased aunt Bunny, is a fucking liar.”
Upon hearing Kevin’s response, my heartbeat increased. I had to look over at him because he was saying a lie that he knew to be untrue so calmly that if we hadn’t spoke about it, I would’ve believed him.
Noah wiped the tears from his face and looked at all of us. “One of these days, ya’ll are going to realize that Bambi is evil,” he said, calling me by my name as if I were not his mother. “When it happens I’m going to laugh in all of your faces.” He rushed out of the front door without another word.
I was about to go behind him when Melo said, “I’ll go get him, ma.”
I walked up to the door before letting him leave. Looking up into his eyes, I put my hands on the sides of his shoulders. “It’s dangerous out there now, son. Very dangerous.” I put one hand on his cheek. “Don’t leave the property, Melo. Bring him back but if he refuses to return, let him go alone. I can’t have something happening to both of you.”
“I love you, ma. Always will.” He kissed me on the forehead and walked out.
****
MELO and NOAH
Melo and Noah were sitting in a small bar in a rural area in Virginia. Both brothers were feeling a little buzzed since they took several shots of Hennessey. Although they were not yet 21, the bar only cared about money, not age.
Things were serene now.
As if they never got into an argument, they talked about everything from college to girls.
Melo knew his brother and he knew how to calm him down before having a tough conversation. Melo tried to adjust the collar on the shirt he was wearing. Since Noah pulled it, it was stretched out and hanging off his right shoulder.
“Here, man,” Noah said taking off the white t-shirt he was wearing. “Wear this.”
“I’m fine,” Melo said with an extended hand.
“Take the shirt, man,” Noah persisted. “You look ridiculous.”
They laughed.
Melo took his blue shirt off and handed it to Noah who sat it on the bar. He slid on the white one. A few more moments passed between them. “Why do you hate ma so much?” Melo asked. “For real.”
Noah looked over at his twin who had the same face and shook his head. “You really know how to fuck up a wet dream.” He scratched his chest through his wife beater before grabbing a beer off the bar.
“I just wanna know, man,” Melo continued. “Why the hate against your own mother?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the fact that she hates me back.”
Melo’s eyebrows rose. “She doesn’t hate you.”
Noah laughed. “Me and you both know that ma don’t fuck with me. I think I remind her more of dad and you remind her of herself. That’s why ya’ll get along so well.”
“So you calling me a female?” Melo chuckled.
“I’m just stating the truth.” Noah rubbed his jaw. “And you far from a female, nigga. You landed a good one on me.” He paused. “I didn’t know you hit so hard.”
Melo chuckled before getting serious. “Listen, man, ma is going through a lot. With Uncle Camp being murdered, she’s going to need support. You know she was an alcoholic and I don’t want her backsliding because she thinks we don’t have her back.”
Noah sighed. “She’ll be fine.”
“I’m serious, man,” Melo pleaded. “Just be easy on—”
Melo’s statement was cut short when a black bag was draped over his head. When he heard his brother yelling, he figured the same thing was happening to him.
Melo couldn’t believe it.
They were being kidnapped, in a public bar, in broad daylight.
****
Although the dark hood remained over Melo’s face, he could feel the damp grass against his knees. He was trying to connect to his environment. Doing his best to remember the slightest details in case he made it out of the situation alive.
After about five minutes, there was laughter amongst the kidnappers and Melo felt awkward. How could they be so lackadaisical while their lives hung in the balance? All Melo could do was worry about his brother.
He contemplated screaming but his throat hurt so badly due to the yelling he’d done hours earlier that it would be useless. No audible sound would exit his mouth.
When Melo heard a bottle of champagne pop, anger coursed through his body.
Iakov clanked his glass against Arkadi’s before pouring the drink down his throat. Iakov snatched the hood off Melo’s head. “Any last words, Kennedy?” he asked him.
“Yes,” Melo said as a single tear rolled down his face. “When my parents find out what happened to me you will experience the worst murder you can imagine. I guarantee it.”
Iakov laughed although something in his eyes told him that Melo believed every last word he was saying.
“Do it, brother,” Iakov said to Arkadi. “Kill them both and get your revenge.”
Before Arkadi shot Noah, he said something that rocked Melo’s core. He was unable to think about it long because after Noah was finished, Arkadi moved to Melo, putting a bullet in his head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DENIM
Smoking paper planes, I was sitting in the living room, waiting for word on our attack on the Russians. We made a few moves out in the streets to strike back but now it was out of our hands. We were waiting on the word from our soldiers out in the field. We were waiting to see if anyone else we cared about got hurt. And we were waiting on Melo and Noah to return home.
“Roman, I’m counting on you to carry things through,” Bambi said as she held the phone tightly in her hand. “Let me know if they show up anywhere.” She nodded before hanging up and walking over to the table where we were sitting.
“No word yet?” I asked.
“She said she’d let us know if she sees Iakov or Arkadi. But she also said she got word that they, along with Vito, Derrick and Jim, were in hiding.”
“Why would they be in hiding?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said lowering her head. “The only reason I could imagine is because they did something that they want to get far away from. Like hurting my children.”
Silence.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Kevin sighed. “In all of my years in the drug game, I’ve never been in a situation like this. Too much going on to grieve for my brother. And too angry to do it even if I had time.” He looked at all of us. “If the boys don’t get back within the hour we’ll have to go looking for them.”
I gazed over at Bambi and she appeared frozen. I never saw her this quiet. She looked weak and unthreatening. Whether it was Noah saying that everything that happened with our family recently was her fault, or not knowing where they were, at the moment my friend was fragile.
I knew my observation was right when Kevin walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. She howled loudly and my heart ripped. When I looked over at Scarlett, she was looking at the table. Tears from her eyes splashed against the surface. I knew her mind was still with Camp and I couldn’t blame her.
I was starting to realize that this dope business was not worth the repercussions.
“So ya’ll don’t know where them boys at yet?” my mother said sliding into the room. “Niggas is dropping like flies around here.”
It was so quiet you could hear a pin spin.
“I don’t know what it is about you Kennedys,” she continued. “Can’t run an operation and can’t save your own people. And tell me something, what is it about ya’ll that makes you keep los
ing kids? First Jasmine, then Master and now the twins,” she continued. “Is no one safe around you fake ass gangsters?”
I finally understood what it meant to see black. Because when I snapped and came to, my mother’s meaty throat was in the palms of my hands. She was lying on the floor and I was slapping and stealing her in the face at the same time.
Now that I think about it, the last time I experienced something similar I was kicking Grainger’s ass. They must have known what to say to get me to go to the next level.
My mother must’ve been scared because instead of fighting me back, she pulled her arms over her face so that the only things I could hit were the backs of her arms and elbows.
There were lots of reasons for my anger. I beat her for allowing a man’s absence to hit her so hard that she no longer cared about her own children. That she ate so much that she gained over 300 pounds and could barely get out of bed most days. I beat her for allowing men to use her body as a playground, leaving dirty condoms and other things inside of her when they were done as if she were a trashcan. I beat her for not showing me what a strong woman looked like and for loving my sister more than me. For making me pay for a gastric bypass surgery only for her to regain all of the weight.
I beat her for her evil comments about my daughter and for not respecting my marriage. But most of all, I beat her because I was afraid that if I stayed around her, I would be just like her.
I was still pummeling her when I was suddenly whisked up. When I turned around, I saw that it was my husband who had me in his clutch and I was surprised.
Kevin and Ramirez helped my bloody mother up and walked away once she was on her feet. She was standing in the middle of the dining room. Her on one side and me and my family on the other. In that moment, it seemed poetic.
She was no longer my family.
They were.
And she had to go.
“All of my life, you’ve made me hate you,” I said softly. “Even when I tried to love you, you reminded me why I shouldn’t.” Tears poured down my face. “But I’m tired of it, mama. Tired of being the punching bag in your life because you’re too afraid to look at your own shit and deal with it. I’m tired of believing in you despite you never believing in me. From here on out, I will not allow you to hurt me anymore. You have to leave.”
She looked at me and then at my family. “You already said that, Denim,” she said huffing and puffing. “I’m leaving in a few weeks. Remember?”
“No, mama. You leaving right now.”
Her jaw dropped. “So you would throw me out on the streets at a time like this? When ya’ll got some crazed white boys looking for you?”
I could’ve answered her question verbally. Instead, I strolled to the front door. Before opening it, I held the cool doorknob in my hand to be sure this was what I wanted to do. When I was certain, I pulled it.
A cool breeze rushed inside. “Leave now.”
Her eyes widened and I saw her chest rising and falling. “Denim, if you do this, I’m going to kill myself and it will all be your fault! Do you hear me?”
“Get out, Sarah,” Bradley said. “We can’t help you anymore. Now go!”
She looked at me and my family and I thought she was about to leave. Instead, she flopped on the floor. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m scared! Please! Don’t put me out.”
I looked at Bradley and my brothers-in-law. “Pick her up and throw her the fuck out,” I demanded. “I’m done with this chick.”
****
I was sitting on a chair in my room. Alone. Dressed in an all black tracksuit, I was thinking about what I just did to my mother. Not even twenty minutes later, I was already doubting my decision. My mind told me that I made the right move but my heart called me a betrayer.
When the bedroom door opened, Bradley walked inside. Instead of approaching me, he stood by the door. “You ready to go search for the twins, baby?”
I nodded although I knew it was a lie.
He came further inside and dropped to his knees. Looking up at me, his eyes light pink from crying over the loss of his brother. With only silence between us, he placed his head on my lap as if he were my child. Reminding me that no matter what, we had each other.
“Did I make the right decision?” I asked. “By throwing her out? I need the truth, outside of what you feel about her.”
He looked up at me. “Yes, Denim. You decided right. She was not good for you and she was not good for this family right now. You don’t come in someone else’s home and throw some bullshit out about people dying. At a time like this! When shit is so sensitive. We don’t even know where my nephews are. She was wrong.”
“I know, but it hurts.”
“Baby, never keep time with bitter people. Because soon you will be as sour as they are.”
“But what is she going to do out there on her own?” I paused. “She don’t even have any money in her pocket.”
He sighed. “I gave her five hundred bucks and had a cab meet her away from the property. I also checked with the realtor who sold us her new house. He says even though closing is not done, she can move in now. She might not have any furniture but it’s better than being out on the streets.”
I was amazed.
Bradley constantly reminded me that I made the right decision to spend the rest of my life with him. Relieved that my mother would at least be safe, I leaned forward and hugged his head. “Thank you, baby. Thank you so much.” I let him go. “What made you do that for my mother? You don’t even like her.”
He placed his hand on my face. “Denim, I did that shit for you. Not that bitch.” He paused. “I knew you wouldn’t be right unless you knew she was okay. You made a major move by evicting her and I wanted to support you by taking care of the little stuff so that you wouldn’t have to worry. We a team, baby. And I want you to never forget it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MITCH
Mitch was lying on the sofa like he did every night, hoping that eventually this war with the Russians would come to an end so that he would be free. His wife, who never missed a moment of sleep, was sprawled out on the bed as usual.
Considering that prior to now they lived on an island and she had every luxury imaginable, Mitch wondered what made her rest so easily in the beautiful dungeon.
With her always asleep, he oddly found the attentions of Sarah comforting. He appreciated their long talks despite their different backgrounds. Him white, fit and healthy. Her black, overweight and drunk.
Still, she had become the only person who made him feel like a human being. She didn’t care about the money he had or the reasons he was being kept against his will. She sincerely wanted to get to know him and that made her invaluable to him.
He was just about to drink some wine when his door opened. Hoping it was Sarah, he was disappointed when he saw the Kennedy family, minus Camp, standing before him. Mitch stood up and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his silk black pajama pants. “I’m sorry about your loss.”
“So you heard?” Kevin asked with a lowered brow.
“Yes.” He looked at Denim. “Your mother told me. She’s God sent. She doesn’t mind keeping me company and considering my predicament,” he looked up at the gold accented ceiling as if he were in a Mexican prison as opposed to paradise, “it means a lot to me.”
“My mother won’t be coming around anymore,” Denim said firmly. “And I wanted to let you know personally.”
Mitch removed his hands from his pockets. They hung loosely at his sides. “Please tell me that her dismissal isn’t due to anything that I have done.”
“It’s not because of you,” Kevin said louder. “It’s just that with the war we’re involved in, this was no place for Sarah.”
Mitch’s jaw tightened and it was apparent that he wasn’t happy about the news. “So what brings about this visit?” He looked at the Kennedy family with painted disdain. “You must want something.”
“We wanted to tell you that things
have escalated,” Scarlett advised. “With my husband being murdered and the twins going missing, we predict things will get worse.”
“The twins are missing?”
“Yes,” Kevin responded.
Mitch sighed. “Well, in that case, I don’t doubt that things will get worse,” Mitch responded. “And however I can help I’m willing. Just let me know.”
“We need your connections, Mitch,” Kevin said. “We know you have access to technology we don’t.”
“Technology?” Mitch repeated.
“Yes. We need someone who can run the Russians’ names and find out some more intel. Where they work and where they sleep. Stuff like that.”
“But I gave you what I knew. I told you the address of their hideout and the restaurant where they often meet. I don’t know anything else.”
“We believe that you do,” Kevin said.
“You all are giving me too much credit.”
“We don’t give credit unless it’s warranted,” Ramirez advised. “Now them mothafuckas killed my brother and they may have my nephews. Will you or will you not help us? Will you or will you not assist us in ending this war?”
Silence.
Mitch didn’t answer right away but it was apparent to the Kennedys how he felt about them. He threw his hands up. “Look, I’m very sorry about what happened to Camp. And I’m even more heartbroken now that I hear what’s going on with the twins. But I don’t have access to anybody in the states who can be of service. If I was home, in Mexico, I could.” He sighed. “Perhaps you should let me go so that I can be of more assistance.”
