Savage

by Tiana Laveen

  Zaire blinked back tears and raced over to them. They huddled together, embracing one another.

  “We love you for you,” Allison said, her voice choked up. “The hard-nosed you, and this softer side, too. We’ll take both, and girl, you never have to worry. We’ll always have your back…”

  Savage hissed and tossed his phone back in the holster as he navigated bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  Talking about she has a headache… What the fuck does that have to do with my dick?! I know she better take care of me when I get in there. That’s what the hell I know…

  Traffic moved a bit, at a snail’s pace.

  How in the hell can three women eat six meat lovers and cheese and veggie pizzas, two baked chickens, a large pasta salad, an entire loaf of garlic bread, three tossed salads, four orders of twelve piece garlic pepper wings, three meatball hoagies, and all that other shit they had? Let’s not forget the birthday cake they ordered. Who eats a birthday cake when it is nobody’s fucking birthday? Eva, that’s who. My liquor cabinet is probably wiped clean, on top of it all. When I told her to have a girl’s night, I didn’t mean a girl’s food extravaganza! They were eating as if they were all nine months pregnant with triplets! She better give me that pussy when I hit the door. I am fucking her on sight.

  He was horny and cranky, an awful combination. Austin had contacted him that morning and, much to his surprise, congratulated him on his completed mission. The news stations were swarming around the Hickson home before he’d even gotten out of town. After he’d spoken to Longhorn, he contacted the local police, as their policy required. He was glad it was over.

  His phone rang. He snatched it up, smiling.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hello, Maximus. Your father said you are coming back home soon, yes?”

  “Yeah, on my way now. Anything wrong?”

  “I must ask again, though you told me not to, for money for Erjon, Jetmir, Kreshnik and—”

  “You can name all of my fucking uncles, aunts, cousins, the man on the moon, whatever, Mom, but I am not giving them any more money!”

  “Maximus, please! They are homeless!”

  “How are they homeless? I saw photos of the building they’re staying in a few years back. It was decent.”

  “No, I just found out last night that they’ve moved here, to Miami. They had to flee, no jobs, nowhere to go… Please, just help me get them settled.”

  Alarm bells rang in his damn head like a fire drill.

  “Miami? How long have they lived in Miami?”

  “Mirarber said they’ve been there a while, but illegally… he didn’t want to tell me. He was careful who to tell about it. The rest of the family is still in Armenia according to my sister Milena. Now, you see? This is very important! Just enough money so they can get their papers, pay for a lawyer, things like that.”

  Savage’s head began to pound in shock and disbelief. He swerved his rental car and pulled over to the side of the highway, trying to regain his composure.

  “Mom, I need you to answer a question for me.”

  “Yes, son? What is it?”

  “Have you told anyone in the family what I do for a living?”

  “Of course not! Never! I just say my son has a good job and makes very good money. Very proud of him.”

  “Mmm hmm, okay… Next question. Have you told anyone, and I mean anyone, that you’re my beneficiary in case I die?”

  There was a brief silence.

  “I don’t know. I may have. Let me think…” He sighed and plopped his head on the car seat. “I don’t remember, Maximus. I may have in general talk, you know? No big deal.”

  “Mom! Do you have any idea what… fuck! Never mind.”

  “What? What is the matter?!”

  “Nothing… Look, how much money do they need?”

  “You changed your mind? Oh, thank you!”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. How much money are they asking for? I want to give it to them in person if they’re here in the States, in Miami. I need to go there soon, anyway, for an assignment…”

  “Saban told me they need forty thousand dollars.”

  “Forty thousand! Are they out of their fucking minds?!”

  “A lot of money, I know, dear. I sold the television you bought us to give them a thousand, you know, to help. I sent it through the Cash app, but I explained that you pay all our bills directly so I cannot give them more.”

  “You sold that television you wanted for your birthday last year? Why in the… never mind, Mom.” He felt like he was going to burst from pure rage. “What about your jewelry?”

  The woman went silent. Mom loved her silver and gold bangles, her pretty rings, but he’d noticed she hadn’t had them on the last few times he’d seen her.

  “Gone.”

  She was in deep. The emotional blackmail, lies and manipulation these people had her under was overwhelming. They toyed with her, playing on her need to be loved by them and be finally accepted into the fold. Dad had been right. Mom was easy pickings. Savage and his father gave her everything she wanted, though she had never asked for much and had even refused higher priced gifts in the past, deeming them too extravagant. Her relatives had been milking her like a cow to get to his assets and his death would be the big prize, the pot of gold at the end of their rainbow. She’d get the insurance money and, knowing her, she’d give them a huge percentage of it, if not everything. She wouldn’t be able to help herself.

  Mom wasn’t an affectionate person. She wasn’t emotionally demonstrative, but Zaire had been right, too. Inside her lived a desperate little girl still trying to be loved. Mom was very generous, that much was true. She wouldn’t tell him she loved him in words, but she’d always showed it by getting him the little toys he’d desired as a child, whenever she could, and making a big fuss over his birthdays. Too bad that giving nature seemed to end with her and not extend to her leeching family.

  These animals would have it made in the shade. They’d be instant millionaires as soon as I kick the bucket. Fine then. I’ve got something for their asses…

  Stroking his chin, he smiled.

  “Mom, here’s what I want you to do. Get me their Miami address, okay? I am going to furnish their entire apartment, pull some strings to help them get residency, and a car or two so they can get around, too. I have some connections with immigration, okay?”

  “Oh, Maximus! Thank you so much! This is their American dream come true! Mirarber is going to be thrilled! Can’t wait to tell him the news!”

  “Let them all know that I will also be bringing lots of cash, so it isn’t traceable, okay? Loads of it.”

  “Beautiful news! I cannot wait to tell them!”

  “Yeah… you go on and do that. Tell them I will be making it there very soon. I just need to get my schedule in order.” He grinned, the savage within him amped and happy as could be. “I’ll talk to you later, Mom. Send me that address as soon as possible.”

  “I will! Thank you, son!”

  “Uhh huh…” He disconnected the call. “Call, Harlem,” he told his phone.

  The man picked up after the fourth ring.

  “What’s up, champ?! You fucked Hickson up, my man! Why didn’t you take his tongue out though? I was a little disappointed to hear he was intact once I got the bio report.” The man chuckled.

  “It was a disaster. I wasn’t in the mood.”

  “A disaster? What do you mean?”

  “He had some sort of strange ass infection, man… Look, I’ve seen it a few times. Sores all over his mouth and inside it, too. It could have been from a number of causes but getting my prize wasn’t important to me anymore after I peeped it. He was into some really strange shit, too. We’re talking rampant animal dissections, bestiality, a bunch of shit. A real sick, dangerous fuck. That’s not including all the evidence I uncovered of bomb attacks he was responsible for. There were two bombs in the house, as well, as I expected. Thankfully, one was a dud and the other was removed without incid
ent.”

  “Shit, man. No wonder Austin didn’t want to touch it.”

  “Exactly. Pay out was pretty, but let me tell you, my adrenaline was through the roof. Anyway, we can talk more about that later. Right now, I need your help.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Apparently, blood isn’t always thicker than water.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve figured it out. My mother’s family has her hemmed up in some bullshit. I believe they’ve been the ones trying to kill me.”

  “What?! Come on, Savage. That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yeah, actually it does. Hear me out. Remember how everyone was sayin’ that these guys knew the Toret Crew down in Miami, so they figured it was retribution for me taking out their boss last year?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, they’re from Miami all right. These bastards relocated there! They came here to California to take me out, and made a pit stop to Vegas after finding out I was there, probably because of my mother since only you guys knew. She’s been running her mouth, supplying them with all the information they need without realizing it. She was doing what mothers do: brag on their kids. Well, that was a mistake.”

  “But why would they want to kill you?”

  “Oh, I’m getting to that part. Here is where it gets juicy. I have no wife and kids. She’s my life insurance beneficiary.”

  “Ho…ly… SHIT.”

  “Yup. It’s her name listed first, then my father’s. She and my dad would also get everything I own, not just the insurance, if I kick the bucket. The houses, the cars and bikes, the boat, the casino I’ve invested in. They’d get my share, and that’s over 500k on its lonesome. All the money in my accounts, stocks, the whole shebang. They started small, asking for five hundred bucks here and there, so I didn’t think anything of it and handed it over. Now they’ve pumped her up to ask me for forty thousand. She’s the heir to the ponderosa… She knows it, they know it, and now I know it. She isn’t capable of sayin no to their demands, no matter what my father and I tell her. They get rid of me, then they’re in.”

  “Shit, man… Damn! All right, so what do you want me to do? What do you need because you know I’m on it, I’ve got you man? Family ain’t shit sometimes! As soon as one of my brothers calls me with some shit, tryna borrow some money, I hang the phone up. I learned a long time ago that throwin’ money at people who are users only feeds the tiger to have a taste for you.”

  “Tell me about it.” Savage rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you all the details later, but I’ve got a plan.” He pulled away from the curb, merging back into traffic.

  “I bet you do.” Harlem chuckled. “Lay it on me.”

  “I had other assignments to take care of man, but it looks like ya boy is headed to see Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas.” He bit into his lower lip, trying to contain his enthusiasm. “I’m the new Miami Vice! It’s a family fuckin’ affair!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Bullies, Bullets, and Brides

  Zaire stood in the grocery store line, yawning. It had been a long, eventful day. Although it was just eight in the evening, it felt more like midnight. She’d been the keynote speaker at the Los Angeles Women’s Outreach Conference that day. They’d served coffee, tea and croissants, a full luncheon buffet, and dinner had been catered by a popular local barbecue spot. The topics had ranged from education to international travel, anything to help empower the Black women of L.A. to be their best selves. She’d been enthusiastic and energetic, but now her battery was drained, running on E.

  I wonder what’s taking so long?

  Two people stood in line in front of her, and it seemed time was moving at a snail’s pace. Soft music played in the store, the sound mingling with that of the beeping cash register.

  “Try this coupon…” the woman at the front of the line said.

  When coupons where involved, it could mean an exceptionally long wait.

  I should’ve done self-checkout.

  She yawned once again and picked up a gossip rag from the display to entice last minute needless purchases. Flipping through it, she landed on an article about Brad Pitt, detailing his life after divorce, his new spiritual leanings, and how he was dealing with his past demons. The handsome, talented actor was dressed in a bluish gray suit and white shirt, looking amazing. Her lips curled in appreciation.

  He still looks good… Good for him. It was a mess what he did to Jennifer, leaving her for that other woman who looks like a whole ghoul, but he seems remorseful. We reap what we sow, don’t we, Brad? No one is perfect. Just learn from your shit and move on. I’m not going to even lie though; if I were single, I might have to look you up. I heard you’ve dated the chocolate a few times.

  She chuckled to herself, being silly as her exhaustion set in.

  “I understand, ma’am, but that coupon is expired so I can’t accept it.”

  “Shiiiid! Just by one damn day! Y’all make me sick! How much is the total then?!”

  “Your order comes up to $43.75. Your EBT card also doesn’t cover that brand of milk, those candies, or the crackers you selected. Would you like to replace them?” the cashier said softly.

  Zaire poked her head past the man in front of her and began to eavesdrop.

  “No, I don’t want to replace them!” the woman barked. “I don’t understand this shit. It ain’t like I have a big steak dinner sittin’ here. I’ve got four kids I’m tryna feed! I ain’t have these problems at Aldi’s, I tell ya that much! Wait a minute…” The woman huffed. “Let me check my change purse. Might have a five-dollar bill or two rolled up in there.”

  Zaire this time peeked around the red-haired man ahead of her to get a better look.

  A tall, thin, light brown skinned Black woman in a taupe turban wore a scowl fit for Halloween on her face. Her expression conveyed anger mixed with embarrassment. Zaire couldn’t quite blame her. She recalled how mortified she’d been herself years ago when her brand new VISA had been declined because of some error on the bank’s end.

  For what felt like an eternity, the woman kept digging in her purse, while everybody gawked at her. The woman paused and looked at people behind her, and she and Zaire locked gazes.

  Oh, my God. I know her…

  The lady quickly turned away, frantically searching in her worn, oversized denim purse. She gathered a few coins and slapped them in the cashier’s hand. Several people in line began to huff and grumble at this point, tired of the dog-and-pony show, voicing their frustration.

  I have to do this. This is a teachable moment. I just spoke all damn day about us Black women owning our choices, not making excuses for our behavior when it does us more harm than good. I discussed elevating ourselves, getting with mates who appreciate us, regardless of their race or ethnic background, and encouraging travelling abroad. I talked about obtaining higher education, the importance of reading, and not having children with men who can’t even take care of themselves—the whole nine. I also argued about us confronting our demons and making amends. I guess this is God’s way of trying to make me literally put my money where my mouth is. Here goes nothing…

  “Excuse me,” Zaire spoke up, wishing to bring this all to a close. The cashier and the woman turned to her. “How much does she owe?” Zaire reached into her pocketbook and pulled out her debit card.

  “Her total is $43.75. She has only $31.15 that covers this. The rest she’d need to pay some other way. That makes a difference of, $12.60.”

  “I’ll pay it, okay? In fact, put the entire amount on my card. Excuse me, just let me get past you for a second here.” Zaire walked in front of the man preceding her to stand between him and the woman trying to get her groceries, then put her card in the card reader. The woman crossed her arms over her chest, chewing nervously on her lower lip, fidgeting, and stealing surreptitious glances at her. Through it all, she never said a word.

  “There you go.” Zaire smiled at her before she quickly gathered her bags and placed
them inside the cart.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, then rushed away.

  “Damn, she sure was ungrateful,” the man she’d stepped in front of stated as she went back to her original spot in line. He placed his carton of orange juice down and shook his head.

  “It’s okay. Sometimes our pride causes that. She may have been very thankful but just didn’t know how to express it.”

  The cashier nodded in agreement. “That was very nice of you to do.”

  The cashier began to ring the next customer up.

  Zaire, this is not over… A little voice in the back of her head began to nag her. You did not confront your demons completely. GO. AFTER. HER. Come on now, live by your teachings. Don’t be a hypocrite. Stop putting on airs and TELL THE TRUTH!

  “Uh, excuse me, I’m so sorry.” Zaire stepped out of the line. “Let me put my stuff over here to the side. I’ll be right back.” Placing her groceries back in her little plastic basket, she set the thing next to another cash register that wasn’t in use. She then hurried out of the store, her heart beating a mile a minute. Looking all over the parking lot, she didn’t see the woman at first, but then caught her sitting on a bench, perhaps waiting on a ride. Zaire approached her. The lady was toying with her cellphone. She suddenly looked up in surprise, her eyes large.

  “I didn’t mean to shock you.” Zaire smiled. “But I remember you from a long time ago…”

  “What do you mean you remember me from a long time ago?” the woman asked suspiciously, her eyebrow raised and her forehead creased. “I don’t know you.”

  “I had actually—”

  “What else do you want? I said thank you,” she barked.

  “It’s not about the groceries, and it’s not even about you acknowledging that someone helped you or not, Deanna.” The woman’s eyes turned to slits. “That’s right. Deanna Brooks is your name. We went to high school together.”

  “Hmmm, I don’t remember you, baby. Sorry.” She pulled out a cigarette from a little pouch and lit it. Crossing her long, skinny legs, she began to swing it back and forth and turned her head, dismissing her. “What are you still standin’ there for?” she asked, blowing smoke out the side of her mouth.