The Satyr

by Tiana Laveen

  “Oh my God. I thought the balloons were for me because of the award I’d gotten a couple days ago, the one I told you I was so happy about. You said you were going to get something in celebration… I thought, oh my goodness… never mind. Wow.” She smiled sadly and shook her head.

  “I did pick you up something for that. I’m so proud of you, but I was going to give it to you tonight. You told me the other day that today is your sister’s birthday, and you wanted to go to her gravesite, but had been too busy.”

  She opened the door with a shaky hand, and they stepped out of the car at the same time. She stood there, feeling surreal, tired, and anxious. I never forget her birthday… Today has been awful. I was distracted. The air was cool with a slight wind and the sky was gray, but she couldn’t smell any rain in the air. When Nixon joined her, he had the balloons in hand and was right by her side every step of the way. They walked through Rosehill Cemetery, one of the oldest in Illinois.

  “Tamia’s grave is over there.” She pointed up ahead. “My father comes once every couple of months or so, and places flowers on it.”

  “I know where it is.” Nixon tracked ahead in a purposeful stride. His back was straight, gait confident as he made his way towards the tombstone with the flowers, musical notes, and fish carved in the sandstone. She reached him after a few seconds and watched in awe as he tied the balloons to a stake covered in flowers, which he drove into the ground. Such care he displayed, as if this had been his sister, too. So many questions danced in her head as they held hands and looked down at her sister’s last resting place.

  “Before you fell asleep, you looked upset, like something was bothering you. Everything okay?”

  “No, everything is not okay. Mr. Riser and I exchanged words today. I think Tamia would be proud of how I handled it. She was always stronger than me.” Nixon remained silent. She realized now, after months of dating him, that when he acted so, he was working through the statement… extracting from it, breaking the words apart. He was like that, a decoder of sorts. That aspect of him always intrigued her. She’d even watched him in court one day, in secret, and he’d had no idea she’d been there.

  He’d been brilliant.

  “Mr. Riser… instead of Camden? You’re referring to him as Mr. Riser now. That means you’re on the warpath. Good,” he stated sternly, making her chuckle. He slipped his hand from hers and cracked his knuckles, then dropped to his knees. “You know, I hate hospitals, funerals, and graves. I did this for you.”

  “Thank you for thinking to do this.”

  “I don’t like them not because they’re macabre. I don’t like them because I have been to so many, Yasmine, that I have become desensitized. So, I am reminded of the desensitization when I see people filled with emotion, crying, and I am just standing there, daydreaming or planning what I will be doing the next day. It seems inappropriate. I don’t like how it makes me feel… like something is wrong with me. I already struggled with this sort of thing, and now, it’s only gotten worse.”

  “Nixon, we all become numbed after a while. We must, in order to survive our jobs.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “I see everything though, no matter how big or small, on a scale comparable to life or death. Falling in love – that’s life.” Her heart beat faster within her. “It gives a person yet another reason to wake up in the morning. A divorce? That’s death. Eating lunch – life. Illness – the body fighting something destructive, to prevent death. Even in our careers, baby, it’s life or death. When someone threatens your position, something you worked so hard to obtain, they warrant a form of death, so you can continue your life. You have to cut that shit out at the root.” His dark blue eyes were icy, lifeless, haunting. She knew exactly what he was getting at. He was encouraging her to fix this situation, to get what she rightfully deserved.

  “He’s not getting away with this.”

  “Oh, trust me.” He laughed mirthlessly. He got back to his feet and crossed his arms. “I know that. Death can come all kinds of ways. It can come as loss of their career. It can come as, hell, I don’t know…” he shrugged, “someone who loves the hell outta of you, digging deep to help you dress in the best damn armor before you go out to the frontline of your warzone.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, looking deeply into her eyes. “When you get back to your office, you’ll find a series of emails. Click on them, follow the directions. I didn’t pull the trigger… I wanted to wait until things got to critical mass. Read the information I sent and use them as part of your attack.”

  “Nixon, you’re confusing me… what are you talking about?”

  He turned to face her.

  “I know all about Terrell Davis and Camden Riser. They have a long history. He didn’t just show up out of the blue. Your boss, Terrell, isn’t a horrible person, but he was bent over a barrel and didn’t have the backbone to stand up to this guy. Camden? That’s another story. He was fired from Steinberg and Fairman but they agreed to have it look as if he left willingly. Basically, two clients sued the firm because of some shady shit he’d done. He wanted back in, so he called on a favor from Terrell. He’s been riding a silver spoon. People keep turning the other way.”

  “I honestly don’t understand how he even survived law school.” She sucked in air, trying to not explode.

  “Read the emails to find out the rest, but, uh, Camden is so fuckin’ filthy, so crooked, Yasmine, that I needed a long, hot shower after researching his history.”

  “I’ve dug up dirt on him, too.” She smirked, then laughed. They both stared at Tamia’s grave, hands linked again.

  “I know you have. The difference though, my White privilege, as you call it, and I accept that is what it is, allows me to get to places and people you wouldn’t be able to get close to. I used it to help my woman. I used it like a fuckin’ credit card, and got shit that isn’t even on record, but is on file in private places no one is supposed to know about.” She gulped at his words. “Do me a favor, all right?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t approach him and let him know about what you know until you can call a meeting with him and your colleagues. You need witnesses. Don’t approach either of them until you are ready and have all of the information to present. Just read it and do what you need to do. No pit stops.”

  “Hmm, I see. Well, just so we’re clear, Camden definitely crossed the line today in a way that is unforgiveable. I will be adding that information to the arsenal.”

  “In cases like this, you need everything. So use it all. As long as it is factual, use it. When you’re finished reading what I sent, and speaking to the necessary people, go to the State Bar if they don’t comply. I plan to go with you. As a support system and witness.”

  Nixon leaned down and ran his hand lovingly along the gravestone.

  “Tamia, I’m your sister Yasmine’s boyfriend. I’ve heard so many amazing things about you. I would’ve liked to have met you, but it looks like that wasn’t meant to be, so I’ll have to meet you through your sister, through your family. I’m going to leave you alone with Yasmine now. I’m sure you two have some things to talk about. Goodbye.” He waved to the grave and walked away, getting into his car. Yasmine slowly turned around and faced the headstone. She took a deep breath, sighed, and closed her eyes.

  “Tamia.” Her voice trembled. “I have had… an awful time at work lately. If you were alive, I’d be talking your ear off right now about it. I’d tell you everything.” She laughed sadly. “Here I am, talking to you again. I come to your grave and update you on my life and the family. It’s almost… like you’re still here. Maybe you never left? Maybe that’s not how life works, or death, like Nixon was talking about. Maybe we have it all wrong. This could all be an illusion!” She tossed up her hands. “I sound crazy, like Nixon… He is philosophical. I never really was before, but I like that about him. I bet you would’ve, too. In fact, I bet you would’ve liked him a lot. I’m in love, sis…” She sniffed. “I am h
ead over heels in love with that man. So many things are going on right now in my life. I bet you would have had some great advice.

  “I think that’s why I like Goldie so much. Your personalities were similar. Goldie gives amazing advice. She says that I do, too, but it’s kind of hard to counsel yourself, you know?” She smiled. “You both are honest people to your core. And so full of love and light.” She patted her eye. “I love you, sis. I’ll come visit again, soon.” Then, she blew the grave a kiss and walked back over to the car. Once she got inside, she found Nixon speaking on the phone in a relaxed position, with a hand behind his head. His Rolex gleamed on his wrist.

  ‘Get You’ by Daniel Caesar played on low volume, putting her in the mood to sleep, to cry, to make love, to reflect, to dive deep into her own soul. This man exuded so much confidence. Nixon reeked of beautiful arrogance, and she loved that scent. But he was superior… in every sense of the word.

  I’ve fallen in love with one of the most complex men in this city… just my luck. She gave an inner laugh. He is magnetic, smart as hell, argumentative, wicked, a powerhouse in the courtroom and bedroom. Women both adore and loathe this man. He twists people inside out. He’s always three steps ahead, while pretending to be two steps back. He’s strategic in everything he does, including in affairs of the heart. I hate to admit this, but in so many ways, with the exception of the arrogance, he and I are a lot alike…

  My lover is entitled, rotten, bleeds hypermasculinity, and fucking adores me. I feel all of this when he touches me, kisses me, speaks to me. He shows me how much he cares by staying up on the phone with me when I am upset or restless, even when he has important court appearances literally a few hours later. He makes love to me over and over, giving me pleasure that honestly should be illegal, it’s so damn good. He knows himself well, admits his faults, but does not wallow in self-pity. I see wonderful growth in him as a man and a partner. He is opening up more to me, telling me things, admitting his frailties. Even in bed, he is now more vulnerable… I can see it in his eyes. I see growth in myself, too.

  She pulled out her phone and began to pull up her work emails while Nixon discussed work with someone. A lump caught in her damn throat as she read page after page of the shit her man had dug up. It was tragic. It was infuriating. It was incredible.

  Ending the call, he put the car in drive and drove hard… just like how he fucked. They said nothing, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his hard jaw clenched, and his hands working the stick shift and steering wheel.

  “I read some of what you sent.” She broke the silence. “I’ll be addressing this right away.”

  “You have to eat first. We still haven’t had lunch.”

  “I’m not sure I have time.” She looked at her phone.

  “You have to make time. Here’s the plan. I am going to run into that one place we like with the good soups ’nd shit, grab you a to-go order. I suggest you act as if everything is normal at your job, and don’t save any files to your company computer. I have another laptop I use for things like this; it’s encrypted. I’m going to bring it with me when I come over tonight. You can use it until this over. As you probably noticed, the emails I sent to you forced you to click on a link and you had to read them via the password I texted you. That’s so no one can get into your files.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I noticed that. And I realized why.”

  “Don’t tell anyone about what you read, not even Goldie. You don’t want anyone else to have to be involved should things escalate.”

  “So… you think it could get that bad?” Her heart felt heavy.

  “Hey? This may seem small. You’ve got a guy who basically weasels himself into one of the top law firms in the city because he is friends with one of the partners. He doesn’t deserve the position; in fact, he’s a mediocre attorney at best. This doesn’t make sense. There are red flags galore. Your law firm is notorious for making people go through a rigorous interview process.”

  “They do. I had to do nine interviews before they offered the job, and they checked my references, did a background check, and grilled me about all sorts of things before I was let on board. They basically wanted me to be Mother Teresa.”

  “Exactly. So how the hell did he get in so fast?” His brow furrowed. “It’s obvious. He pulled strings. So here you have a man who infiltrates and steals your case in a matter of weeks. He did it so he could quickly make a name for himself by winning a big case, and he didn’t care who he hurt in the process. If he could do that, there’s no telling what else he’s capable of.” She couldn’t disagree with that. “Besides, desperate people do strange things, baby. I want to kill him. That way, this could all be over by the time the ten o’clock news comes on.”

  She stared at the man and realized he meant every damn word he spoke. Such darkness that made her feel dizzy with fear and excitement at the same time. Maybe it was part of the sickness she’d told herself she had? The same sickness that had thrown her into the arms of men who meant her no good. Now though, she had a motherfucker who loved her, although he was still a black-hearted bastard who’d just so happened to fall in love…

  Nixon arrived at ‘Chicken Soup Bistro’ and ran inside. She waited in the car, her thoughts a jumbled mess. It didn’t take him long to come out with a big white bag in his hands. Once Nixon was back in the car, he set the bag on her lap and pulled out of the parking spot. It was warm and smelled amazing, too. He’s taking care of me… He always takes care of me… She smiled as she plucked the folds of the bag open and peered inside. On one side was a Mexican salad. On the other, a bowl of fiesta soup and a roll.

  “Are you coming by tonight to spend the evening, or do you have to leave?” she asked.

  “Of course I’m staying the night. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. Did you call your dad yet? You said you wanted to take care of that.”

  He merged with traffic, going in the direction of her office building.

  “Yeah. He said he thought about what I and my sister, Maria, were sayin’ to him about his wife. Especially since Maria never talks shit about anyone. He already knew.” He shrugged. “My father is just afraid of bein’ alone, Yasmine. When I was a kid, he would isolate himself when he’d get drunk, but when sober he doesn’t like that. It freaks him out. Then he realized, ‘Shit. I’m already isolated and alone. She’s never here.’ He sometimes has unrealistic expectations. I’m not going to Sophie, that’s my stepmother, never loved my father; I think at one point she did, but once she saw all the issues he had, she detached herself from him. It broke him. That’s what happens sometimes when you try to love someone who refuses to love you back.”

  “So, she wasn’t cheating the entire time? Let me tell you, Nixon. Your sister, Tonya, filled my ear with stuff about your stepmother that made my head spin.”

  He chuckled at that. “How’d she get on that topic? Especially with Dad sitting right there.”

  “She was asking me about work and told me she’d wanted to go into law at one point, like you, but she’d aspired to specialize in domestic matters. She said she’d decided against it, but let me tell you, that’s when she started whispering to me, going off about that woman, it was all she wrote! She spilled all the beans and I was sitting there trying to not laugh! Tonya is a firecracker!” She laughed.

  “Tonya is like me, but she hates our stepmother’s fuckin’ guts. She never acted crazy around her or anything though, just tolerated her. We had no proof she was cheating on him, but we didn’t need it. It was obvious. And then, come to find out, my Dad actually did find proof; he just never told us until recently. My dad’s gripe, too, was that she was living in my grandmother’s big house on the shore with him. That really started to rub him the wrong way. He’d been her caretaker. He was supposed to sell it or rent it out after she died, and come back to Chicago, but he never did. Then, before ya knew it, he’d gotten married. Do you know how much houses like that go for now, Yasmine? My grandmo
ther’s house is huge, too. It’s a great house, right on the water. That old house is worth millions of dollars now. New York is expensive; you know how that works. Anyway, he said he woke up one morning and was just over it. Done. He said he’s filing for divorce soon.”

  “Good for him. Your father was quite nice to me, and funny. He seems like a good person, Nix.”

  “He is a good person, just has some issues is all. I gave him some attorney names in his area so she wouldn’t be able to grab his money, at least not the bulk of it. He needs to get a really good one, or she’ll be able to walk away with a lot. Anyway, I’m tellin’ ya though, this is really hard for him. My father needs a woman, he is just that kind of guy. But she’s not it.” Yasmine nodded in agreement. “He has gotten cranky over the years. Talking to him was like watching someone punch holes in a wall, hour after hour. He’s loud, says crazy shit.”

  “Why do you think he’s like that? Or is that just his personality?”

  “I think it was a culmination of things that got my father that way, I think he’s got some PTSD from the war, too, which he absolutely refuses to talk about with me, Leo, my mother, anybody.”

  “That’s right. You told me he fought in Vietnam.”

  “He was very young at the time, only there in the final two years, ’74 and ’75, but it really fucked him up, my mother says. My grandmother told her everything because my mom didn’t know my dad back then. Anyway, he’s mentioned the mundane things, the regular stuff, I guess you could say, but he refuses to talk about the killing. I am just taking an educated guess, but I think my father probably had to kill quite a few people. He’s admitted that he had to, but he never gave details. He was a kid himself in those days… I mean, shit. He’s been through a lot. His father died when he was young, and some other shit went down, too. He always says things could’ve been worse though. You know what’s funny?”