by Brick
“Enzo?”
He snapped his head in my direction. “What, Bianca?”
“We have to go.”
He nodded once then looked back down at Dragon. “We didn’t have to do this, but since you took it there, it is what it is. We good or what?”
Dragon nodded and then Enzo helped him up from the floor. “Yeah, man. Get the fuck up outta here. Go out through the back—”
Enzo snatched up his leather jacket and cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. All those ho parties we threw I haven’t forgotten, nigga.”
Dragon tried to chuckle, but the hit I’d given him had his face swollen already.
“Hey, look, I’m sorry about the . . . golf club.”
I tried to apologize, but Dragon wasn’t hearing it. “Fuck you, Angel. You’d do that shit again for the sake of this nigga. You know you ain’t shit,” he said.
But when he nodded and smiled a lopsided smile, I knew he and I were good. Enzo and I disappeared through the back and faded into the night.
Dressed in all black, Enzo and I sat outside of a chicken and waffle restaurant. We hadn’t said too much to one another on the drive over. My heart was on overdrive. Enzo was unreadable. I didn’t know what he was thinking. When he came into his aunt’s hospice room, I expected him to be belligerent, ready to turn the hospice upside down about the woman I now knew to be his mother being targeted by Micah and his warped obsession. But Enzo hadn’t reacted the way I expected. In fact, he really hadn’t reacted at all. That surprised me, being that we had just gone to Dragon’s house and pretty much laid down the law.
“So you’re just going to be this calm after Micah pretty much tried to murder Shy in cold blood?” I asked him as we sat there. I just wanted to know if we were going to go after Micah for Shy like we had just gone at Dragon. I didn’t understand why we weren’t going to call that nigga out.
Enzo slowly eyed me from the corner of his eye. “Just because I’m not showing my hand doesn’t mean I don’t know how to play.”
“Yeah, but this nigga ambushed us, Enzo. He tried to kill Shy without any fucks given of what you would do about it. You’re just going to let that go?”
“Don’t make me regret bringing you with me,” he said calmly.
“We’re sitting outside a chicken and waffle joint so forgive me if I have to question the method to your madness right now,” I quipped.
“Don’t question shit about me until you see the full picture. You’re coming at me like—”
“Like you need to do something about this nigga trying you. It’s one thing when he was coming after you when we just thought he was trying to fill Dame’s seat. It’s another now that we know it’s personal. And it’s personal shit on his end that has nothing, nothing, to do with you, but because of who your father is. You ain’t mad enough for me.”
Enzo tilted his head then mumbled something under his breath as he turned to glare at me. “Mad enough for you? What the fuck is mad enough for you, Angel? I just had to pretty much get in a nigga’s ass who I consider a homie because of Micah. This nigga only after you because he thinks you can mention the wrong thing at the wrong time and end his little façade. Once he kills you, he’s done with you. You’re out of his fucking hair. This nigga is aiming for my family. For me, my li’l bro, for my gotdamned mother. This shit is deeper than me showing you my anger on the fucking surface. My life and the life of that woman lying in the hospital bed depend on it. You must be out of your fucking mind to tell me I’m not mad enough for you. Fuck you, Angel. Fuck you for making me want to choke the shit out of you right now.”
The more he spoke, the deeper the baritone in his voice got. He touched the spot on his jaw where Dragon had hammered him. I saw those storm clouds brewing behind his eyes, and flashbacks of the last time I’d pissed him off that bad came to memory. Enzo’s left hand gripped the steering wheel so hard that I could see the white of his knuckles.
“I’m just trying to figure out—”
I started to talk, but he jumped out of the car and slammed the door. Wanting to get my point across to him, I hopped out behind him.
“Shawn, wait,” I called out behind him.
He kept walking like he hadn’t heard me. His broad back in the leather jacket he wore made him walk with a purpose. Only he could walk with such determination and swagger that it stood out the way it did. The gait that he carried from his posture was enough to make any woman swoon. I rushed up behind him and grabbed his hand to stop him before he walked into the restaurant.
“Please, wait,” I said to him. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you, I promise. I just want this all to be over and I guess in my haste I’m forgetting that you always approach certain things methodically. This isn’t just about me and I’m sorry.”
For a long while he just stared down at me like he was fighting with the urge to put his hands on me again. Something inside of me still feared Enzo’s anger because I knew he could go from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds. But all he did was grunt and walk to the entrance of the restaurant. When he got to the door he held it open while still remaining silent. I sighed, slid my hands in my hoodie pockets, and walked in ahead of him.
Once inside, Enzo led us to the back of the establishment where a lone booth sat. I went to sit on the opposite side of the table but he stopped me.
“Naw, shawty. Sit over here. Slide in,” he ordered me before he slid into the booth after me.
People stared and whispered. One little boy screamed at his mother that Enzo was in the place. I sat quietly while he took photos with his fans while wondering why the fuck we were there. I was expecting a waiter to come to the table, but when the owner and the cook came out to personally ask Enzo what he wanted, I knew more than his NFL fame was at play. Once all the hoopla had died down and we’d ordered our meals, Enzo looked at me.
“While you were so busy trying to tell a nigga how mad he should be, I bet you never took the time to notice we were being followed again,” he spat out.
My instincts immediately went into overdrive. I started to look around as paranoia set in.
“There is always a method to my madness, Bianca. Never question me or doubt me the way you did. That can make a nigga already testy a whole lot of edgy. If you rolling me, telling me you gon’ hold me down, then you don’t do shit like that. Not when a nigga trying his hardest”—his fist banged on the table once, shaking the silverware—“to show you a different side of him.”
Part of me wanted to be scared of the way he’d just come at me because as he talked, he snarled a bit and spoke through clenched teeth. But the other half of me, the side that had always been drawn to and attracted to Enzo’s not-so-sane side, wanted to see what it would feel like in that moment to have him fuck me again while he was that angry. I didn’t have time to dwell on my wet pussy or to respond to what he’d said. The cook had come back out with the food and another fan ran up wanting a photo with Enzo.
The chime on the door of the restaurant sounded and the smile Enzo had on his face when he was talking to the little boy faded. I looked behind us just by happenstance and frowned when I saw the police from earlier that day walking in. He was in street clothes and looked nothing like the officer I’d seen earlier that day. He casually strolled in with both hands in his pockets, locs swinging as he strolled through with a walk similar to Enzo’s.
When he stopped just behind the booth we were sitting in, I looked from him to Enzo, and then back to him.
“What’s going on?” I asked Enzo.
“Fuego, you going to photobomb this shit or just stand there?” Enzo asked with a smirk, ignoring my question all together.
“Cuz, I’ll just stand and wait until you’re done. You have some people who want to meet you,” Fuego explained while looking around.
“Ain’t happening. They’ll have to come in here and order some shit and we all can break bread over waffles, how about that shit?” Enzo leveraged.
Fuego chuckled
then walked around and gave a large order as he pointed to our table near the back of the restaurant. He gave a few women in the place a flirtatious smile that was similar to Enzo’s then glanced my way with his hands folded in front of his dark jeans.
“My bad, I just relay the messages,” he finally said.
Enzo stood and adjusted his leather jacket as he gave the man a cool look. His chin was slightly raised, and he scratched his pierced ear as he spoke. “You need to be more effective then. I’m not feeling the stalker shit.”
A deep, rumbling laugh escaped Fuego’s lips as he matched Enzo in stance and posture. There was a silent stare down before he pushed forward to talk to an elderly gentleman. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see money exchanged. It was then that the older black man yelled for everyone to leave, and he quickly turned to shut down the restaurant. People griped and complained, but Fuego simply handed ducats their way then pointed toward the door.
In my mind, I was wondering just what in hell was going on. But something else inside of me was telling me to just watch in silence. Enzo sat back down and glanced at me.
“Always a method to my madness,” he grumbled.
He was still annoyed with me. I could live with that. While my heart settled in my throat, I picked up my fork and started to cut through my red velvet waffles and chicken. I picked up the syrup and lackadaisically poured it over my food.
“So, you got the family’s attention and, as you see, they felt it was time to move up the reunion,” Fuego explained as he came back to the table. He made a signal then thanked the waitress who set more food down on the tables we specified.
“I didn’t do shit, my man, but I think you all would be interested in finding out who did,” he casually replied, moving to sit down and grabbing his knife and fork.
Enzo had ordered a plate of red velvet waffles and chicken on the side as well. I learned from cooking for him before that he hated for some foods to touch, and I was assuming chicken and waffles touching was one of them.
“A’ight, you got my attention with that one,” Fuego expressed.
My legs started to shake, which caused them to brush against Enzo’s legs. He pushed his hand underneath the table and pressed it down on my leg.
“Stop. I told you I needed you to be my Bonnie. I need you to start acting like it right now. Chill out. Relax. Let me handle this and then we can be done and we can leave,” he said to me without even looking over at me.
So even though I nodded and settled back into my seat, he didn’t see me. Enzo continued to eat his food with a bored expression on his face. The chime on the door alerted us to someone coming in. I looked up and directly into the eyes of old world evil. I didn’t have to wonder if the man was an Orlando. Just judging by the way he walked like he owned the world, I could tell. Everything about him screamed that Dame had come from his bloodline. From the cropped perfect waves of salt-and-pepper hair on his head to the gray beard that adorned his face, it was like looking at an older version of Dame.
My palms started to sweat as he stared me down just the way I was doing to him. His upper lip twitched like he was annoyed that I thought I was bold enough to look him in his eyes. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to feel looking into the eyes of the man who had helped to create hell on earth. I knew one thing for sure, though: if Micah was under the impression that Shawn was the only Orlando he had to worry about then he was sadly mistaken.
Chapter 10
Enzo
If you didn’t know shit, then you ain’t see shit; and if you ain’t see shit, then you didn’t know shit. That was the motto of the game that I was trying to get into Angel’s head while I told her to chill. We sat in a run-of-the-mill soul food chicken and waffles joint. This was the type of place where you knew the food was on point, even though the place looked like a decrepit asshole. My hand dropped away from Angel’s shaking leg I could smell the fear coming from her, and it had me on edge. Though she now was realizing what we were dealing with, she needed to understand that in this world just a hint of fear could cause all hell to jump off. Niggas and bitches in this game were like a wolf, shark, or bull: once they caught that sample of red, it was a done deal.
My hand dropped away from Angel’s lush thigh. I continued to eat my food with a bored expression on my face, igging the nigga hovering over us. Fuego had stepped out of the way to get the food he had ordered and then eventually set his tray down opposite Angel and me. He still hovered and I continued to eat. I said nothing while I studied our new guest from the side of my eye. That was when the sound of clicking heels stopped directly behind Fuego and a feminine whisper started. Everything was starting to feel like I was in a zoo and it had me feeling itchy and more annoyed. However, through it all, I just licked my syrup-coated fingers then snatched up a chicken leg and bit into it.
“Hello, Shawn. It is a blessing to finally meet you,” said a calm yet hard-edged female voice.
My eyebrow quirked and I gave a curt nod while continuing to eat.
“Sit, mami, it’s rude to stand over someone as they enjoy their meal. You know better,” a deep, accented voice rumbled next to her.
The woman before me had a medium build. She had dark auburn hair and was dressed in a simple jumper with a business jacket on. Her low-cut nails showed that she was a fighter and the calluses on her index finger let me know she pumped a lot of steel, as in Glocks. She slid in quietly across from Angel and me. Angel’s hand found its way on my thigh and I knew it was her signal that she recognized this broad. Without even glancing up her way, I noticed the broad give me a strange smile that was dipped in malice and sex. It had me mentally asking, who the fuck was this pale bitch?
The elder mirror of the nigga who sired me, who I wished were here to be gutted and lit on fire, coolly slid into the booth while unbuttoning his blazer and pushing it behind him with flair. He sat back in a slight lean and studied me with pride. It was only when he glanced at Angel in disgust that I mentally ticked off another reason to kill dude.
“I’m Lilith Orlando, and this man next to me is your grandfather, the one and only Caltrone Orlando. We have been looking for you and your brother for a long time now,” she happily stated.
The way she spoke was as if she had won some major award and she was geeked on adrenaline with a glassy expression in her eyes. Shit was creepy and strange, especially with how close she sat to the man who slid in next to her. Reaching for my cup of pop, I took a deep gulp and set it down in thought. Looking for me? Yeah the fuck right.
These motherfuckers musta had me bent all the way out. They ain’t know shit about me until recently so they were playing thirsty, but I would take it. It only helped me with my plans with this war. Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I arrogantly glanced up at the man who I knew shit about.
It was then, in that moment, that I stared into the pit of hell, into eyes that matched my own, and it had me sitting up straight. The nigga was an older version of Dame and Dante but with a different look to him. He sported cropped salt-and-pepper hair, with a gray beard that ran along his jaw. This dude didn’t look old in the least bit. If anything, he looked in his late thirties or forties. But I knew, due to the way he sat as if he were a god, that he was older than his looks.
As I assessed him, I knew shit was only going to get more interesting from there on out, especially when Caltrone extended his hand to me and gave a smile that felt like a real grandfather’s. “It makes me proud to finally be in the presence of my grandson, mi sangria. Yes, Lu was not worth mierda, but he picked the woman to give him proper children correctly. Not like his first choice. She was a disgust and produced mutts that only disappointed me like their father. But you and your brother? Sí, absolutely perfecto. Yes, today is a good day and we have much to discuss, niño. Much.”
My hand tentatively reached out to touch his. Both of our palms matched in a tight grasp. I said nothing as my mind began to calculate how to get the fuck out of this shit without harm to my true family.
Micah was going to burn in hell for putting me on this path for sure.
We both dropped our hands and studied each other, Caltrone with a devilish smirk and me showing no emotion but a bored, stoic grin. Silence played between us. I was tripping off of how he called us perfect, as if we were some creation of his to claim as pets, and it pissed me off on another level but I kept it cool.
“Shawn, you called for us to meet you and we are here. Whatever you need from us, we are here. Loyalty and blood is our motto and our way of life,” the woman named Lilith directed my way.
There was this undertone in her voice that had me envisioning my fork in her throat, but I brushed it off, and kept my eyes on the man who would be called my grandfather. “A rat has escaped from Dame’s kingdom and is currently attempting to take what was burned down and build it back up. But in order to do that, like the old days in Egypt when pharaohs wanted to practice their rule, he wants to erase anyone associated with, or who is direct blood of, Orlando.”
Leaning back, I copped Angel from the side of my eye. She was using me as a means to hide from the psychopathic stare of the man in front of us. Realizing that, I kept myself angled enough so she could feel protected as I reached for my cup and took another drink, this time crunching slowly on ice.
Caltrone’s pupils seemed to darken. He leaned to the side to whisper to Lilith before sitting back and watching me.
“And tell us how this affects you,” Lilith said, her eyes also narrowing in fringed contempt.
Disrespectful bitches really made my palms itch. Her throat was pretty enough to choke and how she kept staring she was really asking for it. Tilting my head to the side, I tried to stay cool, because I had just basically told these fuckers how it was affecting me, but I guess they needed a clearer understanding.
“I’m sure you’ve been watching me all this time right? Seen the news? Yeah, I can tell. Well, that’s how. I dropped a name for you to latch on to and see who’s playing with my world, feel me? As I’m learning, I can’t do this by myself, right? I need family, right? So, I’m here. That nigga pushed me to you, so I’m saying why not give him what he wants? Time to protect the kingdom and show him what it really takes to be an Orlando.” Cockiness poured from my lips and I leaned back in a smug look, quietly waiting.
