Part 2 (1/2)
They needed s.p.a.ce. Together. They hadn't been able to get busy since they'd all moved into the one big happy family vibe-for months. Last time was all quiet-like in a hotel on the sneak tip, all because she didn't want anybody hearing anything down the d.a.m.ned hall... like they were kids and whatnot. And now girlfriend was talking about being alone the first weekend. Forget her nonsense. If it wasn't important to her, it d.a.m.ned sure wasn't important to him.
Carlos walked up the path with purpose and stood in the unfinished doorframe. The hair on the back of his neck was raised. He didn't do Navajo art, colors, and whatnot. This wasn't him at all!
He needed a place that he could truly funk out-surfaces needed to be solid. Whatever happened to marble, Spanish tile, real stone masonry that might give a man twenty seconds of reaction time before something mad-crazy blew through the room?
”Huh? What about that, D!” he yelled, his voice echoing through the empty s.p.a.ce.
Living with kids, a band of big brothers, two mommas... he might as well have been back in the barrios of East L.A. A hundred f.u.c.king million dollars in the bank, and he was gonna be living in a tiny ranch down a dusty road in no-man's land. Carlos wiped his palms down his face and tried to regain a sense of calm. He was not gonna lose it out here. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he remembered all the Zen c.r.a.p that Shabazz had taught him, and the old ones had shown him. ”Okay, fine!” This was a new level of h.e.l.l.
None of this was what he'd envisioned. A mad joint off the California cliffs, access to the clubs, transpo, real security, the family hooked up in lovely Beverly Hills, far enough away to miss, close enough to get to in a jam; but he and his woman together, under one roof, in the same bed at night-or day. Not this campground bulls.h.i.+t! Driving a bloodred Lamborghini, tricked the f.u.c.k out with bulletproof gla.s.s, his boy, Yonnie, able to fall by and go hang out at will. Handlin' their bizness, like men. Training day was about to be over, por favor. What the h.e.l.l was on D's mind?
Carlos pushed off a wall and walked straight through the house to the back deck. Yeah, all right, the mountains were impressive.
Beautiful view. Cool. A natural cathedral. So what? After the places he'd been and the things he'd seen, it wasn't about merely surviving. ”If you're gonna be alive,” he shouted, opening his arms wide toward the canyon, ”then, dammit, you might as well live!
What is this bulls.h.i.+t!”
Plus, right around the corner, his ex was pus.h.i.+ng up on his house brother-and why that s.h.i.+t disturbed him so much made him question his sanity. Jose was cool, though. Carlos folded his arms and shook his head in disgust. Jose was walking on eggsh.e.l.ls-but why was Damali? If girlfriend had acted right, had gotten with him, then Jose coulda hooked up with Juanita without any drama and everything woulda been smooth. But this tiptoeing around the subject at hand about who used to get with whom, was working his nerves.
It was too much madness under one roof, especially with Mike sighing every time he pa.s.sed Inez's big behind and got d.a.m.ned wood every time she put a plate in front of him; and Shabazz all tight in the jaws because Marlene was keeping her distance; plus Berkfield snapping and barking; and G.o.dd.a.m.ned Rider drinking like a fish and all edgy, while J.L.'s a.s.s was so d.a.m.ned h.o.r.n.y waiting for Berkfield's daughter to turn eighteen, he was about to put a bullet in the brother's skull himself to end it with the quickness before the girl's daddy did! And Juanita's crazy a.s.s, hanging on Jose every time he pa.s.sed them by, trying to stir the jealousy pot that didn't exist, but making Damali bristle-and why was that?
Crazy-a.s.s Marj running around like Suzy homemaker, making sure everybody had something green on their plates; her kids following him foot-to-foot all day long; Marlene whispering and praying like a storm was coming, f.u.c.king chanting in the kitchen like a crazy, old witch; Dan begging him to tell him stories of the underworld for vicarious thrills... Yeah, next time Yonnie pa.s.sed through, he was out, and might take Dan to the clubs just to get the newbie laid so he could chill. At least somebody would walk back through that screen door with their head on straight. ”Oh, s.h.i.+t-I cannot live with these people another day!”
His voice bounced back from the hills as though it were laughing at him. As he stared out at the sky, he knew it was all going to come to a head. Juanita and Damali weren't feeling each other. Never had. Sooner or later he and Juanita had to really talk.
They couldn't get this raggedy-a.s.sed little house built fast enough. But that also meant that, sooner or later, Jose and D were gonna have to have a serious conversation-and that was really getting on his last nerve.
His head jerked up and he spun to stare toward the direction of Damali's new home. ”Aw, h.e.l.l no!” He began walking and tore through his half-completed house, making his way to his car. Oh, so she was trying to play him-after all they'd been through?
She wanted time and s.p.a.ce to have that conversation with his house brother? Alone? Why couldn't girlfriend just say what she had to say on the back steps or in the yard out of earshot, huh? That's what he wanted to know!
Then it hit him, and he stopped short. Oh s.h.i.+t... Jose had been more of a provider than him. This was Jose's people's land.
Jose was the one going to the tribal council, sealing the deals, getting the permits in order, was handling his business. Carlos spat on the ground as he walked across his front yard, shaking his head.
He wasn't having it. The way this shoulda gone down, if nothing was up, he and Damali were supposed to be together this weekend, then get some transpo over to L.A., or Vegas, or whatever, hang out, be where the action was, not solo communing with the freakin' universe, old flames, or any of that other twisted we-are-the-world bull. He'd had it, had followed all the rules, gotten a second chance, delivered as promised, and was not doing another tour of duty in h.e.l.l, whether dictated by the Light or the Darkness!
If there was a problem, and they needed another Neteru to step up, they had his digits, and could blow up his cell phone. And if the Chairman was topside and wanted to bring it, then he was ready to go. He'd step to his punk a.s.s, too, but on his own terms.
Squash the plans to build here. Rider could take this joint-now he was a man who needed and deserved some heads.p.a.ce. He was going to Cali, might crash in Yonnie's lair until he got a new place and had it funked-out and furnished, security doors and s.h.i.+t put on. If not there, sheeit... Gabrielle had a place to his liking, if she kept her girls outta his face.
Carlos slammed the Jeep door with such force it made his ears ring as he drove away. By the time he pulled into the driveway of Jose's grandfather's house, he was breathing hard. He jumped out of the Jeep, his gaze tearing around the front yard. But when he saw Jose through the screen, he waited a beat, took a few deep breaths, and kicked gravel away from his tires.
But first, he needed to chill. This didn't make no sense.
CHAPTER TWO
As soon as the sun kissed the horizon, Yonnie's black transport cloud began to form in the pathway leading to Carlos's semibuilt house. Carlos leapt up from the steps and almost ran to meet him.
”Yo, holmes, you ain't forget about a brother!”
”Naw, dawg,” Yonnie said, laughing, as the two men pounded fists and returned bear hugs.
”Get me the f.u.c.k outta here, man,” Carlos said, raking his hands through his hair. ”You have no idea!”
”C'mon, now,” Yonnie said, laughing harder. He held Carlos by his arms and surveyed his black T-s.h.i.+rt and leather pants. ”This ain't you, nerves fried and s.h.i.+t, brother.”
”Stop f.u.c.king with me, man,” Carlos said, play-boxing Yonnie. ”See, how you gonna do me like that? I thought we was boyz?”
It felt so good to be in nonhousehold company that tears almost came to Carlos's eyes. He laughed from deep within his chest as a sense of pure freedom filled him.
”You know I gotchure back, man,” Yonnie said, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket. ”I was just laying low, trying to stay out of a married man's way, can't have D coming for me. The sister might cut my heart out, some of the places I had in mind to take you, boss.”
Carlos pointed at Yonnie and walked away from him, smiling. ”You ain't right, motherf.u.c.ker. First of all, I ain't married.”
”Like h.e.l.l,” Yonnie scoffed, teasing Carlos without mercy.
”You're married right here,” he said, slapping his chest. ”Y'all mighta had a little spat, but at the end of the night, I'm dragging your a.s.s home. Don't front.”
”That's cold. See, you done got brand new on me and left a brother at the hands of old ladies, broke down Guardians, and a buncha kids. You wrong, man. Damali ain't the one you gotta worry about, no way.”
”I know,” Yonnie said with a wink, offering Carlos a hint of fang. ”Rider's still got an itchy trigger finger, broke-down or not. So, I figured, why rub salt in the wound? We men. s.h.i.+t happens. I stay on my side of town, he can stay on his.”
”But meanwhile,” Carlos said, folding his arms over his chest, ”you need to get a brother outta here.”
”d.a.m.n, this is smooth,” Carlos said with deep appreciation, running his hand down the side of Yonnie's black Alfa Romeo 8C.
The bloodred interior felt like a kid glove against his palm, but the chrome grill was off da chain.
”We can't be rollin' up to no club raggedy, my brutha,” Yonnie said, pleased that Carlos liked his ride. ”Need to get you suited up right, too.” He waited until Carlos nodded and smiled.
”Hook a brother up, then,” Carlos said, opening his arms wide.
”Don't get used to this, though,” Yonnie cautioned, losing his smile. ”For real, man. Not like this.”
”You worry too much.” Carlos let his breath out hard.
”Yeah, I do,” Yonnie said in a serious tone. ”I'm not playing, man. Later on, when I gotta go eat, you gotta go home. Feel me?”
”Yeah, yeah, yeah, I feel you, man. But that's later, this is now. Relax.”When she heard a Jeep pull into her driveway, Damali ran for the door. She was all prepared to do battle about saying what she meant and meaning what she said, but when Rider staggered out of the vehicle, she stood very still on the porch.
”Yo, que pasa?” he said, laughing and stumbling once, and holding out a bottle of Jack Daniel's toward her. ”Housewarming present. I forgot to leave it earlier.”
She smiled through the worry. ”How about if I go get two gla.s.ses and we-”
”Gla.s.ses?” Rider said, making a face and then grinning. ”Sis, why stand on ceremony? This is a new-house party, right?”