Power (Romantic Suspense) (11 page)

Finally speaking, Domingo cracked a weak smile. “Man, you don’t play Luther in a room with just men.”

“You’re right about that.” I blew smoke out and nodded. “Maybe I should be pointing this gun at Rasheed for that idea.”

“For real.” Domingo forced a laugh and pocketed the house keys. “Thanks for the house.”

“You’re welcome.” I lowered the gun, finished the blunt, and sat back in the chair.

We returned to hanging out, but barely. We might’ve stayed down there for another ten minutes, just to show each other that everything was still cool. But tension thickened the air, and I knew, just like the other two understood, that things had changed.

We would never be the same again.

Vivian and Domingo moved into the house the following week, and she’d never left. Since then, it had been remodeled. She’d built on an extra room, had it all painted pink with white shutters and bordering. A garden was planted in the huge back yard, along with a new pool.

Mom and Dad had actually visited her many times and helped with a few things. It had been the only place they’d bought with their own money. They could never really let it go completely, volunteering to paint or plant something for her during their retired years.

Now hundreds of balloons decorated the front porch. Glitter crosses hung from the branches in the front yard’s trees. Cars packed the block. Music and noise resonated in the area.

No guests were outside, but armed men stood along the front perimeter and probably the back. They didn’t have their guns out, but I knew what resided under their jackets.

Domingo knew I wouldn’t shoot him here, but he probably figured Rasheed’s soldiers would have no problem filling the place with bullets. Rasheed had employed his family and none of them had a sane bone in their body.

Before walking up to the house, we waited for Fuji to arrive with the Segway board. He’d delivered with no problem. SpongeBob wrapping paper encased the big box. He held it for me. Meanwhile, Mary Jane stood by the limo looking scared as hell, but no less sexy. That dress committed a crime that I hoped to serve serious time for.

I gestured for 305 to come over.

“Yo, what’s up, Boss?” 305 had a swag about him that always made me laugh. He’d named himself after the area code of his home city. Miami. He also walked with a bop like the pimps did in old 70s movies. He always kept a chew stick in his mouth and shades over his eyes. On chill evenings, he talked about the beaches and Cuban women he’d made love to back in the day. He told me that he would show me around the city and we’d paint the town.

“You heard about Rasheed?” I asked.

“Yeah. Heard he wet Rasheed’s men in the back of the club. Both of them dead. Now I have two funerals to go to next week. Lucky for the streets, I had two new suits delivered. Bad suits. Armani with the G-line trim. I’ll be looking nice. Platinum wrists and what not.” 305 raised his eyebrows at me. “What?”

“Focus.”

“Sorry, boss.”

In this life, people treated funerals like the prom. Everyone dressed their best. Lots of deals were made after caskets were lowered into the ground. A lot of widows repositioned themselves with other guys, some rumored to have given blow jobs before the last shovel of dirt was thrown onto the burial ground.

I shook my head. “Crusher said that Rasheed’s men are parked around the block.”

“Yeah, I saw them, when we drove in. They’re leaning back like fake thugs. It’s about four full cars. Ten deep, if I had to guess. I swore I spotted a cannon in one of the cars. They’re about to blast the shit out of this place.”

I glanced back at my childhood home. “No, they’re not. My god son is in there and many innocents. Get rid of them.”

“Get rid of them?”

“Tell them to go or kill them. Pick one. I have my own list. You have yours.”

“Okay. Get them out of there. Dead or Alive.” He started to walk off and then stopped. “Yo, Boss. Something else is weird too.”

“What?”

“Lots of Butterfly’s girls are out here.”

“Hookers at a boy’s birthday party?”

“Yeah. Of course, they’re not strapped, just sitting around and chilling.”

“You know how women are. They’re probably being nosy and reporting everything back to Butterfly.”

“Brothels been losing business since our men have been dying in them.” 305 switched the chew stick to the other side of his mouth. “Anyway, do you have a particular way you want me to get rid of Rasheed’s men?”

“Ask nicely, first. They just lost Rasheed. They’re definitely feeling some sort of way. Let them know that I’m handling it.”

“And if they’re not satisfied.”

“Then do what you have to do.”

305 nodded and left.

I signaled for Mary Jane to come my way and held her hand. Her soft fingers wrapped around mine. “You’re safe. Do you believe me?”

Her voice came out shaky. “Yes.”

“Why?”

She scanned the whole area, taking in the men in the front yard and the twenty guys that I’d brought. A few of Butterfly’s women strolled around on the side and glanced at us.

Mary Jane let out a long breath. “I believe you, because there’s a lot of big, bad guys all over this place, but every one of them is scared to even look your way. Especially those guys in front of the house. The one by the door looks like he’s having a seizure or something.”

I checked the man she was talking about. His head bobbed in an erratic way. He kept murmuring something to himself and keeping his hand inside his jacket.

She stared at me. “How bad are you, Noah?”

Unease sat in my gut. “Why?”

“I just want to know what I’m dealing with.”

I guided her forward. “You’re not ready for that answer yet.”

Chapter 7

Mary Jane

An intellectual, falling sick, had promised to pay the doctor if he recovered.

When his wife nagged at him for drinking wine, while he had a fever, he said:
"Do you want me to get healthy and be forced to pay the doctor?"

–Philogelos (The Laughter Lover)

H
ow
did I get here? This morning, I was a college student daydreaming about performing punch lines on stage. Tonight, I’m walking arm-in-arm with a gangster I would’ve never met if not for my own dumb ass going to the wrong place. And earlier, I’d just popped out my tits for him and had been damned near close to sucking his cock.

I’d actually been too damned close to sucking him off. That mushroomed tip bulged—all raw and big like some satanic sex god. As if power surged through the thick stalk and his sperm spurt more powerful liquid than the fountain of youth.

His cock had all of my attention in that limo. As soon as he took it out, I could no longer think. The fact that he’d jumped on top of me like a lunatic, hadn’t taken away its thunder. The fact that he’d poked the front of me with his meaty sword, made me yearn for him to poke other places. The fact that he’d begged, made me moan. The fact that he couldn’t keep control of himself and dove into my breasts, had me wet and hungry for more.

The fact that. . .fuck it. I wanted him badly.

Noah nudged me. “Now,
you’re
squinting. What are you thinking about?”

I blushed. “Nothing.”

As if he had some good guesses, he bit his bottom lip and led us up the porch. Crusher walked on our left. The big hat remained on his head. On my right, Fuji strolled with the present. I didn’t think he was pissed with me. As soon as our gazes met, the big guy nodded and tossed me a smile saying he understood.

Still, I couldn’t believe I’d gotten here.

The men on the porch looked like they were going to stop us from entering the house. The few women around exchanged glances with each other and then gazed at Noah. Gone was the satanic sex god from the limo. Now, Noah wore a mask made of stone. All the men stepped aside with each glance of his face. One even opened the door for us to walk in. All of us—Noah, Crusher, Fuji, and me and also the twenty gun-toting men marching behind us.

Noah’s the main guy. The top one. I thought he led some guys, but not all of them. How powerful is he? How dangerous?

As soon as we stepped inside, I felt like I’d taken a drug to the veins. Frightening music greeted my ears.

A man sang in a dark voice.
“Jesus, the lamb died for us all, so that we will never die.”

I was sure the lyrics were supposed to be soothing and hopeful, but the singing terrified me.

“Jesus died for me!”
Low organ notes accompanied the singing.
“Jesus died for me! Oh, thank you. He died for me!”

Haunted, I hooked my arm around Noah’s and made sure not to lose him in the shadows.

Inside what might’ve been a living room, brawnier men flanked the walls. These guys had guns in their hands and were probably ready to shoot any person rushing inside of the place.

Yet, the scary men weren’t the thing that shoved me off the edge of sanity.

The whole place resembled some mad house where an LSD addict had decorated it. The lights were off, yet a blue glow came from each corner, making all of the writings and images on the wall glimmer in fluorescent colors. Someone hand painted bright orange and yellow crosses all over the ceiling. On the largest wall an image of Jesus’ crucifixion blazed. The artist must’ve used glow-in-the-dark spray paint. Even the blood and gashes on his wrists sparked red in the darkness. Even weirder, Jesus’ face appeared much different from the ones I’d seen in churches. It was another man’s face.

Who is that?

Noah continued to wear his stone-cold mask. “Fuck. Now Domingo thinks he’s Jesus. He’s put his on Jesus’s body.”

“That’s your friend on the cross?” I asked.

“Yes, but he’s not a friend. That friendship ended a long time ago.”

The singer shrilled even louder.
“His blood ran down his arms. The pain tore him apart.”

In what I assumed to be a living room, all the furniture had been moved. A huge sandbox was placed in the middle where young kids played, building glowing moon sand castles and drawing their names with sticks.

“Jesus died for you! He died for me!”

A few women sat by the younger ones, giggling like it was all normal. Some of the females spotted Noah and waved with more enthusiasm than I appreciated. Others tossed me dirty looks.

“He died for you and me!”
The singer’s voice rose even higher.
“Can’t you see? He died for us.”

I cringed.

Yes! Yes! He died for us. We got it, buddy. Now stop sounding so creepy.

I leaned in closer to Noah as we passed through that room and entered a hallway. With us and his men, the little passageway was pretty crowded.

“No disrespect, but this is a weird birthday party for a kid,” I said. “I figured this would be more of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ theme. Perhaps, a guy dressed up as Sponge Bob. Maybe an annoying clown here or there. Call me crazy, but this is a bit depressing.”

“Domingo’s a little religious.”

“Clearly, he’s a little religious.” I took in all the scriptures written on the wall in bright red. “Yeah, but just a smidgen.”

I checked out the words scribbled on the hall’s ceiling.

“Even when I walk through a dark valley facing death, I will not be afraid.”

“Wow,” I whispered. “They couldn’t have just written Happy Birthday?”

Noah’s mask broke apart and he chuckled a little, but within seconds, the stone face returned. “No more jokes, Mary Jane.”

“Hey buddy, I’m not performing. I’m really just making obvious observations.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Buddy?”

“I’m sorry. What should I call you?
Mr. Noah
?”

“No.” He brushed my ear with his mouth. “You can call me whatever you want as long as you’re lying in my bed.”

“I-I won’t be.”

“You won’t?” He laughed again. “I already told you. No more jokes. There are things that I have to do tonight. We have to be serious.”

“But, I wasn’t joking.”