Hardhearted

by Sherrod Tunstall

  The room made Swag and Tyler halt their steps to see if they saw anyone familiar there. They did see an old white man who was in his early 70s, with white hair and a white beard. He was slightly on the pudgy side that showed well in a sky-blue shirt, a black blazer, denim jeans, and loafers. He looked decent for an older man, and with glasses on the tip of his nose, he looked like a college professor—which he wasn’t at all. He was one of the world’s most well-known filmmakers and businessmen in Hollywood. His net worth as of 2013 was $7.3 trillion. He was known for his futuristic films and creating creatures from other universes since the late 1970s. He most recently sold his movies to another well-known movie studio for $10 billion.

  Swag and Tyler couldn’t believe they were in the same vicinity as a man whose films they grew up watching. The man was sitting on the sofa drinking a glass of scotch, smoking a Cuban cigar, and eating some macadamia nuts. He didn’t even acknowledge Swag and Tyler, because he was too busy looking at the expensive artwork on the walls.

  Swag was in deep thought, thinking the man must’ve been there for entertainment just like many other people were.

  The geisha girls pulled the two men toward the dining room. “Come on, sir,” said the one next to Tyler.

  The Asian waiter opened the French doors, and they all went into the all-red-and-black gothic-inspired dining room. The only thing that balanced the colors in the room were the gold plates and utensils, the crystal champagne flutes, and famous paintings hanging on the walls.

  Swag thought the room was unique, but at the same time, it looked satanic, like he was going to eat dinner with the devil.

  The geisha girls led the men to their seats, and after they were seated, the girls exited the room. It was dead silent. Tyler and Swag nervously looked at each other. They started to leave until they saw Midnight come into the room. Midnight looked like sexy chocolate, rocking an all-white Armani suit with matching shoes. Another beautiful geisha girl escorted him inside and led him to his chair. He took a seat next to Tyler. Midnight looked at both Swag and Tyler before checking out the dining room.

  “This some fly-ass shit in this place,” he said.

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Tyler said, trying to make small talk.

  Midnight cleared his throat and looked at Swag. “So, aye, did you hear anything from your boy, Travis, aka chicken fingers?” Midnight giggled.

  Tyler mean-mugged him. “Watch it, Blackie. That’s my brother you talkin’ ’bout, man.”

  “Blackie!” Midnight barked with a twisted face.

  Midnight was insecure about his dark complexion and African features. He hated it when someone called him Blackie or Darkie because it reminded him of when his classmates used to tease him.

  “Watch the name-calling, asshole!” Midnight said and pounded his fist on the table. “Words like that will get you killed.”

  “Yo, both of you chill out with that shit!” Swag shouted. “We don’t have time for this, especially not in the predicament we’re all in.”

  The two men silenced themselves—but only for a few minutes. Swag felt terrible for not saying anything to defend Travis at the moment, but right now, it was every man for himself. That was . . . until Swag could get a plan together to get them all out of Costa Rica in one piece. He did, however, have a question for Midnight.

  “Have you heard anything from dickhead? Oh, I mean, Paco?”

  “Don’t be talking about my boy like that!” Midnight yelled and pointed his finger at Swag.

  Swag laughed and looked at Midnight in disbelief. “Oh, he wasn’t your boy when me and my friend,” he pointed at Tyler, “was beating that wetback’s ass down to the ground.”

  Midnight had a dumbfounded look on his face.

  “Yeah, if that was your man, where was your ass at to help him? Huh?”

  “Shit! Do you see where we at? King or Blood probably would’ve fucked me up too,” Midnight said, knowing he’d screwed up as far as the bro code.

  Tyler shook his head. “Punk ass.” He laughed. “You disloyal as hell. And you scary as hell with all those muscles in a cheap-looking suit, looking like an ugly ape. I guess being bigger don’t mean shit. All bark and no bite—weak-ass bitch.”

  Swag knew his boy was laying it on thick with Midnight. And don’t get it twisted, if Midnight touched one hair on Tyler’s head, Swag was ready. Swag thought Midnight, without Paco or his crew, was just a sheep without his shepherd. The Midnight that Swag and Tyler met back in prison in Brazil was now a cowardly lion like in The Wizard of Oz.

  Midnight still kept the dumbfounded look on his face. He knew what he did by not helping Paco was fucked up. Paco or the rest of the crew would’ve done the same for him. But it was too late to turn back the hands of time. He had no way to get in contact with Paco to explain his actions. He knew Karma was going to catch up with him sooner or later. But in the meantime, there was no way in hell he was going to let Swag and Tyler punk him. So he brushed off Swag’s comments. He began to laugh.

  “Oh, I know you two are not talking about me being a disloyal asshole. What about that big dude, Stan? You all literally threw him to wolves back in Brazil.”

  Swag and Tyler looked at each other with stupid looks on their faces. They both knew Midnight was spitting the truth about their late friend, Stan. Even thinking about selling their boy to Satan’s minions scared them shitless to the core. They knew one day Karma would catch up with them also.

  “Yeah, you didn’t know Paco, and I knew that goofy-lookin’ scary dude was with y’all. I can smell an American black godfather wannabe anywhere.”

  Swag and Tyler were mortified by every last word Midnight was saying to them. And as ugly as it sounded, they knew Midnight was preaching the gospel truth.

  “Yeah, selling yo’ boy out for a taste of the good life sponsored by the Hernandez Cartel. Selfish American niggas.” Midnight then looked at Tyler face-to-face. “And you . . .”

  Tyler’s eyes never left Midnight’s. “What the hell about me, Mighty Joe Young?” He glared over at the gold and diamond steak knife. Deep down inside, Tyler could see himself slicing up Midnight’s body in rage. But he kept his cool and took a deep breath.

  “Oh, good comeback, you fake-ass-lookin’ Trey Songz. You ain’t no better because even though you fucked over your goofy friend, you sold out your flesh and blood.”

  Tyler and Swag looked confused about that comment.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Tar Baby?” Tyler asked, then took a sip of water.

  Midnight laughed. “This fool really think he’s hurting my feelings with these stereotypical names.” Midnight shook his head with a big smile on his face, showcasing his perfect, pearly white teeth. “Bitch, you let your own brother get his lip bitten. Plus, you let him get his finger cut off by King’s ass. And last, you let him get exiled from King’s Palace. All yo’ ass did was sit back and let her do it.” He looked at Swag for a moment, then back at Tyler. “And you two niggas calling me weak and scary. As I look at you two, I’m ten times the man you’ll ever be. Punk asses. In this house, you’re selling out friends and being deceitful.”

  Swag couldn’t take any more of Midnight’s smart-ass comments. He picked up his steak knife and pointed it at Midnight.

  On the inside, Midnight was scared shitless. He didn’t know if he had pushed the wrong button when it came to Swag, but he just kept his tough-guy exterior on his face and didn’t flinch.

  “Listen, you fresh-off-the-Amistad-‘Set-us-free’-looking bitch! Don’t you ever disrespect my boys or me. And for your information, I did stick up for Travis. That’s why I’m in this bitch now! Shit, King saw I had more balls than Paco’s ass. And—”

  “Shut the fuck up, both of you!” a loud male voice interrupted Swag.

  They all looked toward the doorway where Blood stood, looking like a million bucks in a midnight blue pin-striped suit and black velvet Versace Medusa loafers. He rocked a nicely shaved bald head and trimmed beard. The only jewelr
y he had on was a gold chain around his neck and a diamond Rolex. To top off his look, he had Blacknese on one arm and Mina on the other. Both were wearing couture ball gowns. To Swag, they looked like totally different people in clothing than what he saw earlier.

  Blood looked at the ladies. “Thank you both.” He turned to Blacknese. “Be in my chambers at ten.” He then turned to Mina. “And you be in my chambers at midnight.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said. They both kissed him and then walked away.

  Blood slithered into the dining room, looking at Tyler and Midnight, who both looked lost as hell. A chill entered the room with Blood. He focused on the knife in Swag’s hand.

  Swag wanted to turn the knife away from Midnight for a brief moment and point it at Blood. The timing was perfect . . . then again, maybe not.

  “I’ma need you bastards to sit down and chill because royalty is about to make its way up in here,” Blood said.

  Both Tyler and Midnight stayed calm. The beef was now between Swag and Blood.

  “Pretty boy, I suggest you sit your ass down and put that knife away real quick.” Blood straightened his suit jacket.

  Swag gave Blood a “fuck you” look as he slowly placed the knife back on the table. Blood shook his head and started laughing. His thoughts about Swag were surprising. I like this dude. He got a lot of heart. But as long as I’m around holding King down, I’m going to show him who the real commander and chief in this bitch is. Blood pulled out his 9 mm and aimed it at Swag’s face.

  He didn’t budge and was rather tired of Blood waving his gun around and threatening him.

  “I’ma need you to put that knife down a little quicker next time, and how about doing it with a smile.”

  All Swag did was smile.

  Blood snarled at him and addressed the others. “Please, sit down before King comes in here. And believe me, she’ll really bring the pain.”

  It had been a long time since Swag let another dude get under his skin . . . since Mitch back in Illinois. He swore that after Mitch, he wasn’t going to let that shit ever happen again. Swag knew he and Blood would have their time soon, but until then, he chilled.

  Blood sat in the chair across from Swag with a sly smile, knowing he was irritating the shit out of Swag’s ass.

  Damn! This dude is like an STD I can’t get rid of, he thought.

  As things settled down, a few men dressed in tuxedoes came in the dining room with trumpets. Once the musicians were in place, they started playing “Royal Entrance Fanfare” on their trumpets.

  Swag, Tyler, and Midnight frowned and appeared annoyed. Blood, however, took a sip of his water, acting like this performance was normal. The first one to come into the dining room was Madam Lourd. She had locked arms with an Arabian escort. Even though she was an older woman, she looked like Hollywood glamour. She wore a long black satin fabric gown with iridescent sparkles. Swoops and swirls in silvers, blue, and subtle peacock colorings were added in. The dress showed her hourglass figure—she still rocked it. She had on matching black satin heels, and even though her makeup was on heavy, she still looked gorgeous. She was known as the Queen of Diamonds, so bling was everywhere. Her head was covered with a black feather bowler cloche hat, giving screen legend Mae West a run for her money. Her escort directed her to the end of the table, where he kissed her hand and pulled back the chair for her to sit.

  After she was settled in, Ivy entered the dining room with a hot Indian escort ready to feast. She wore a long-sleeve leopard print slit dress that showcased her leg tattoo with butterflies of all colors going down her thick frame leg. The dress revealed her big breasts that she loved to show off, and she wore a masquerade mask. Her hair was styled in the famous Halle Berry cut, and a diamond saber tooth-inspired necklace hung from her neck. The escort led her to the seat next to Swag.

  He was somewhat uncomfortable with her being next to him, and he hoped she would keep her hands to herself. The second she sat down, she gazed at him with lust filling her eyes. She then smacked the escort on his butt.

  “Thank you, baby!”

  The young escort smirked and walked away.

  Ivy’s main focus was back on Swag. “Well, hello, again, sexy. Did you miss me?”

  Without warning, Swag felt Ivy’s hand rubbing on his thigh. Her touch made him jerk. He looked at her with wide eyes, but she paid his expression no mind.

  “Firm meeeow,” she purred and moaned. “Mmm, you look delicious.”

  Blood laughed and took another sip of his water.

  Swag looked at him and mouthed, “Fuck you.”

  Blood smiled.

  As the band played on, Josie entered with her male escort. Swag’s eyes were glued to her every move. Her long, curly hair was now flat ironed and pulled into a sleek ponytail. Her Revlon makeup was on point with ruby-red lips and cat-eye makeup that brought out the tigress in her. She wore a red Dolce & Gabbana lace trim spaghetti strapped gown that really showed off her dancer/model shape. She also had on a pair of red heels that showcased her long legs. Not only did she have a male escort on one arm, but she also had a beautiful Egyptian Mau cat in her other arm.

  Swag smiled as her escort took her over to her seat in between Blood and Tyler. He was excited that they would be sitting near each other. Something inside of him got all warm every time he was around her.

  Josie looked around the room and greeted everyone with a smile on her face. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Her sexy smile brightened up the room and semi-melted the hearts of Tyler, Midnight, Blood, and mainly Swag.

  “What’s up?” Midnight and Tyler said.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Blood replied, then leaned in to kiss Josie on her soft cheek.

  “Good evening, Uncle Blake,” she giggled.

  Swag’s eyes were locked on the Haitian beauty, but he was also disgusted that Blood’s DNA was on her smooth cheek. He just thanked God Blood’s venom kiss didn’t melt the flesh of her face. Swag wasted no time breaking the ice and putting on his pretty-boy smile.

  “What’s going on, baby?”

  Josie smirked, but deep down, she was blushing. “I’m great, Mr. Solomon.”

  Swag loved how she called him by his government name. “None of that ‘Mr.’ stuff. Solomon will do just fine. May I say you look exquisite tonight. Even more breathtaking than I remembered you upstairs.”

  Josie chuckled and thought about their first, unforgettable encounter. “Thank you, Swa—I mean, Solomon.” She almost slipped out his tag name, knowing that it was their little secret.

  Swag sucked on his bottom lip and flashed her a sexy smile.

  All the flirting was starting to piss off Blood. He was beginning to sweat bullets, so he kicked Swag’s leg underneath the table.

  “Eww, shit!” Swag reached for his leg to rub it. He glanced at Blood, who had a sly smile on his face.

  “Oh, are you okay?” Ivy said, rubbing his shoulder.

  Swag knew this was Ivy’s act of seduction again. He sat up and shook her hand off of him. “I’m cool, ma’am.”

  Ivy sighed. She hated being called ma’am. She hated that word with a passion and wished whoever thought of it would burn in hell. In her mind, she still wanted to be remembered as the 16-year-old girl who was the most famous escort in all of San José, Costa Rica. She was even more pissed at Swag because he was the first young man to ignore her advances. She hated that she had to compete with these young chicks, especially her own child. She folded her arms and pursed her lips as she thought about being rejected.

  The musicians stopped playing, and Blood stood up. “Stand, everyone.”

  Madam Lourd, Ivy, and Josie rose as if it were normal. Swag, Midnight, and Tyler looked at them like they were crazy. Blood hissed at them and snapped his fingers.

  “Get y’all asses up and show some damn respect!”

  Midnight and Tyler hopped up out of their seats like their lives depended on it. Of course, Swag took his precious time getting out of his chair
as he was eying Blood. He knew Blood was furious and shitting bricks. Swag put a smirk on his face to irritate him.

  Blood winced. In his mind, he wanted to break every last bone in Swag’s face. Keep trying me. Keep trying me, he thought.

  The musicians played a different tune as everyone looked at the doorway. Within seconds, King appeared, looking at her court and her possible future man. Swag’s eyes were locked on her. She was sexy as hell in a Rosie Assoulin rainbow-colored, silk-blend lamé halter-neck gown that melted on her perfect silhouette frame. Her makeup was Egyptian-inspired with peacock eye shadow that enhanced her green eyes and gold lipstick on her luscious, kissable lips. She was giving off a Queen Cleopatra-type of vibe. She rocked gold and diamond jewelry from head to toe. A Kundan headpiece was on top of her long, blond hair that flowed down her back. Her gold-painted sharp fingernails had diamond chips on the ends, and she even had on gold Christian Louboutins.

  Everyone at the table admired how beautiful she was. Blood licked his lips, wishing it were just King and him in the dining room alone having a romantic dinner. He hated that he had to share her with all her lovers and the world. The first time Blood saw King, he was in love with her right then and there. He was one of many people that saw the softer side of her, and he remembered her always being the person he was so in love with. He’d known her since she was a kid and promised he would protect her no matter what. But he wanted to be more than her protector and confidant. He wanted to be the one and only person in her life. Until he could make that dream a reality, he had to take off a few loose ends . . . and Swag.

  Blood got up and walked up to King. He took her hand in his, feeling like one with her. He was determined that King Kia Costello was going to be Mrs. Blake Mario Fernandez by any means necessary. They sauntered over to the table, and he pulled back the throne chair at the head of the table.