RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance (37 page)

“If I have to die, I’ll do it.  I’d rather it be by my own hand than yours.” 

“Good.  Less work for me.”  He moves the gun’s aim slightly off me and tosses me the butcher knife.

I duck, letting the knife sail over my head, and charge him, grabbing his gun-wielding arm and slamming it against the wall.  With his free hand he punches me in the side of the neck and he kicks me hard in the shin.

I headbutt him twice in the side of the head and again square in the nose, breaking and busting it open.  Blood pouring from his nose, his eyes watering heavily, his grip weakens and I yank the gun from him, knocking him to the floor.  I remove the clip and toss it in the garbage and swipe the butcher knife from the floor.  He lunges after me – too late – and I turn and cut deep into his left shoulder.  Dropping to his knees, he shrieks and holds his right hand over the wound.  His left arm dangles downward and I grab it and hold it to the floor.  I chop his left hand off.

He only stares wide-eyed at his dismembered appendage, noiseless, in shock.

I wipe my fingerprints off the pistol and knife and drop both in the garbage can before unlocking the door and exiting the restroom.

Back at Terrell’s house I find Angela in the guest bedroom.

“I know I’m running late,” she says with her back to me, packing her suitcase.  “I accidentally fell asleep again after you left.  Don’t be mad.  I’m almost ready.”  She turns her head and glances at me.

My forehead is bruised and cut near my hairline.  Dried blood stains my hands and shirt.

“Oh my god.  What happened?”  She holds my face in her hands and inspects the bruises and then softly kisses them.  “Are we still leaving?”

“I want to stay a little longer.”

“Sure.  Whatever you need.”

I shower and rest and wait for Terrell to get home that evening.  When he arrives, I ask for Curtis’s phone number.

“You know how dangerous this shit is.”  He looks me over.    You just need to go.”

“Can you give me the number?”

“Let it go, man.”

I look at him.

“Do you have a death wish?” he asks me.

“You’re not going to give it to me?”

“If you want to get him, call the club.  He’ll suspect something if you have his private cell number.”

At a payphone outside a nearby Seessel’s grocery store, I dial the club.  A female bartender answers and I ask for Curtis.

“Just one minute,” she says.  “He’s taking it in his office.”

              A phone picks up and a voice says, “Hello?”

              “Curtis.  We met last night.  I’m the one you had a little run in with.”

              “Where are you?”

              “You think I’m going to answer that?”

              “Never underestimate people’s stupidity.  I guess I should know better though.  I heard what you did to my friend earlier today.  You’re a survivor.  No doubt.”

              “About last night, maybe you don’t care, but it was a misunderstanding.  I just–”

              “You don’t need to tell me.  I don’t want to hear your story.  I don’t want to feel sorry for you.  I don’t want to understand you.”

              I pause.

              “You realize, a man dying isn’t tragic.  Only a man with a story dying is tragic.  Put yourself in my shoes.  What you did to me in public – I can’t have that.  I can’t have you walking around.  Not because I hate you.  I don’t care about you.  To me, your life has no meaning.  You have no story.  But I’ll give you one.  I’m going to give your life meaning.  In death, your life will be a parable about what happens when I’m disrespected, what happens when my authority is challenged.”

              “What an honor.”

              Curtis chuckles again.

              “You don’t mind if I try to rewrite that story in my favor, do you?”

              “No.  I expect you to.  Everyone does.  Everyone thinks they’ll prevail, that somehow they’ll be clever enough to slip by.  That is, until they get clipped.  So go ahead and try.  Good luck.”  He hangs up the phone.

Back at Terrell’s home, before I go to bed, I ask another favor.  “Can you tell me the apartment where Cassie lives?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Do you realize the type of fucked-up position you’re putting me in?” Terrell asks me.  “You and me go back and I want to help you.  But you’re fucking with my livelihood here.  Curtis is the reason I’m running a business right now.  He’s the reason I’ve made money and have this house.  If he finds out I’m helping you, shit is over for me.  You’re my brother and I don’t want to see something bad happen to you, which is why I’m telling you to leave.”

              “I’m being careful.  I won’t let them trace anything back to you.”

              “I always told you about risk versus reward.  You’re taking a huge fucking risk here.  And you’re risking not just yourself, but me too.  And what’s the reward?  What’s going to be accomplished?”

              “Do you really need Curtis?  I know he put the money down to get your club started.  But how about now?  Isn’t the club a success now regardless of him?”

              “The club is totally self-sufficient.  We’re pulling in big enough profits that, yeah, we don’t need any outside money.  Shit has been set in motion and Curtis just kicks back and collects his money now.  Curtis and I have our disagreements, but I work through it.”

              “What do you disagree on?”

              “I’d like the club to be totally free of any extracurricular activities.  It was like that in the very beginning as I was building the place.  As time went on, we had some success and built a customer base.  Curtis started allowing some dealing to go on.  I urged him to keep it in check but it’s only grown over time.  I was really adamant against any form of prostitution too but I know Curtis allows some of the girls to do it.  I just don’t want to get shut down for some side money I’m never going to see anyway.”

              “But Curtis sees that money.  So you just have to accept it.”

              “It’s the position I put myself in.  I was so excited to run my own club that I never thought much about the repercussions.  Curtis realized I knew how to run a club and he wanted a cool place for him and his people to hang out.  And more importantly, he wanted a venue where these extra ventures could take place.”

              “What happens if the club gets busted?”

              “Curtis told me to keep my mouth shut and he’ll take care of me.”

              “He’ll take care of you for how long?  There’s no way you’ll ever get a license to own a club again.  You’ll have to find a new line of work.”

              “I’ll be honest.  It’s a source of stress for me.  The city has been trying to ban liquor sales in all clubs within the city, and we’ve been under a lot of scrutiny.”

              “It’s your club.  Legally, you own it.  If Curtis didn’t have his hand in things, you’d be fine.”

“It’s not like I can just break shit off with him.  You remember who he is, right?”  Terrell smiles.  “Besides, Curtis gave me the opportunity to be successful.  He is responsible for giving me a chance I would never have gotten otherwise.”

              “He’s also going to be responsible someday for the club shutting down, you facing legal action, and you having to start a brand new career without a college degree in your thirties.”

              Terrell closes his eyes and rubs his brow.

              “Tell me where Cassie lives.  Have some trust in me.”

              He sighs and says, “He’s got her in an apartment out in the suburbs near Cordova away from himself and all of us.  That way he can have her when he wants, but it’s not like he’s got to see her every day, so the relationship is on his terms.  As you probably figured, he’s got more than one girl in his circulation.  The complex she’s in is fairly nice from what I know.  Still mostly white out there in the suburbs.  You’ll blend right in.”

It’s early Sunday morning and I borrow Terrell’s car and drive northeast.  The entrance of the complex has a large water fountain.  Among the off-white buildings are a tennis court and a sandy volleyball court and an Olympic-size swimming pool.  I find Cassie’s building and knock on her front door.

              Cassie opens the door and, upon seeing me, tries to slam it back shut.  I catch it and shove forward, forcing the door wide open and sprawling Cassie onto the carpet floor.  I close and lock the door and stand over her.

              “I have a gun,” she shouts at me, panicked.  “I have a gun and it’s loaded.”

              “You think you’re fast enough to get it without me stopping you?”

              She looks up at me from the floor.

              I extend my hand out to her.  “Let’s just sit down and talk a second, okay?”

              Cassie looks at me suspiciously and takes my hand and I lift her up.  We sit together on the couch.

              “Where’d you get the gun?”

              She stares at me and doesn’t say anything.

              “Curtis, right?”

              Silence.

              “Did he actually give it to you?  In person?  He handed it to you?”

              “No, he had someone come here to bring it to me.  He can’t handle guns or drugs or anything like that.  Police are looking for any reason to arrest him.  He has to be careful.”

              “That makes sense.  You realize I should be dead right now because of you.”

She only stares at the floor.

              “Does that matter to you?”  I attempt to make eye contact but she won’t return my gaze.  “What’s your deal?  How can you hate me so much now?”

              “Ha,” Cassie says.  “Where do I start?”

              “I’m serious.  I have no bad feelings.  I was excited to see you, honestly.”

              “Are you oblivious or just that self-centered?” she asks me.  “You fell off the face of the earth and didn’t speak to me for years.  Now you expect me to be happy when you decide to show up?”

              “I—”

              “How about your sister?  Do you know how much she cared about you?  She was my best friend.  Where were you after she died?  Did you even fucking care?”  She shakes her head.  “You left your mother to be at the funeral by herself.  What kind of a son does that?”

              “I had to go.  I wish I could’ve been there for you and my mom.”

              “Then why weren’t you?”

              “It’s a long story.”

              “And you told me you loved me.  You said we were meant to be together, you fucking liar.  And then you leave without a word.  You can’t make a phone call, send a text, a note, a letter?  Terrell wouldn’t even give me a clue as to what happened.  I didn’t know if you were in trouble, hurt, dead, or what.  Do you know how scared I was for you?  I loved you.  You didn’t love me.  You probably didn’t think once about what I was feeling.”

              “That’s not true.  I thought about you a lot.”

              “Yeah, I’m sure.  That’s how you were able to be away from me for years with no contact.  So go ahead and tell me how much you love me.  I’m older now.  I’m not that naïve anymore, so don’t expect me to believe your bullshit.  But go ahead and try.  Let’s hear it.”

              I stare at her, then break a smile.  “You know, you may be older but you’re not that much different.  You’re still as feisty as I remember.  That’s something I always liked.”

              “I’m so over you, you don’t even know.  I could care less.”

              “You seem awful emotional about it for someone who doesn’t care.”

              “Whatever.  I have another man now – a better one.  You think I sit around thinking about you?”

              “Curtis?  I’m sure he’s a great boyfriend.”

              “He takes care of me.  That’s more than you ever did.”

              “Takes care of you?  You mean he has the money to keep you in this apartment so he can come over and fuck you whenever he feels like it?  Please.  You’re one of many stashed around the city.”

              “That’s not true.  Why do you say that?”

              I shrug.

              “You have no clue what you’re talking about.  He spends time with me.  He takes me out.”

              “To where?  The strip club?”

              “He can’t go a lot of places.  He has to be careful.”

              I laugh.

              Cassie glares at me and adds, “He’s taken me on vacation to Mexico before too.”

              “Vacation?  For him it was probably a business trip.  Is he paying for your college?”

              “I’m not going anymore.”

              “Why not?”

              “I went for two years and dropped out.  Curtis pays for everything I need.  There’s no point in college.”