Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

K andie

Me: Where you?

Easy: At the library. You need something?

Me: Yeah. Come to the shed at Mimi's house as soon as you can. It's important.

Me: Still at the library, I am almost done. I can see her rolling her eyes. I know she's mad I wasn't there for Krie last night. I text back, frustration and irritation warring inside of me.

Hurry. Don't let anyone see you leave. Don't drive your car. Saban will bring you.

She doesn't respond, but I don't worry knowing Saban will drag her little ass with her no matter what.

Looking around the neatly well-maintained space of the small little shed, my heart is racing. I look down at my phone, guilt eating me up left and right. Krie's business, The Camelia, was burned to the ground. Everyone was there but me. I know the family is mad at me. No one but LL knows what's going on and why I'm not responding to the family thread. A couple of my aunties are hinting that maybe I was "sleeping it off" with only Nikki chiming in to say that I was probably at the bakery and that I don't have my phone on when I prep. True. This is why I don't deal with a lot of them. Some of the same ones who turned their backs on Daddy saying he was an embarrassment when he was having mental health challenges are the same ones chiming in about my business.

Me: Sorry, I wasn't there last night. What do you need?

Tapping my feet as I wait for Krie to hit me back, I won't be mad if she told me to fuck off. I deserve it. All of us girls are best friends. Growing up together and close to the same age, though I held myself off so swamped with grief over losing Kerania, they kept showing me acceptance and love until I got over some of my anger and grief. I will never not be sad. My sister was the love of my life.

Krie: Don't worry about it, hunnie. It's okay.

Me: No it's not. But when I see you I'll let you know what happened.

Krie: Sounds good.

Me: You still at ol' boy's samurai mansion?

Krie: Oh, nobody told you. I would've thought Easy would for sure.

Me: Nope.

Krie: I left his motherfucking ass.

Me: Nooooooo.

Krie: Yesssss.

Me: You're at home?

Krie: Nope. At Mimi's, letting baby Mateo make me happy. While Thad's wild ass checks my house for bugs and cameras, Kiyoshi put up.

Me: He was watching U?

Krie: He never admitted to it, but I'm pretty sure he is.

I hear the low rumble of Saban's bike a few minutes later. Rushing over, I shove the door open. Saban cuts off the bike, pulling her legs over to stand, then turns to help a more wobbly limbed Easy to pull her shorter legs over the body of the bike. She settles with a little hop, removing the bike helmet from her newly matted curls. Saban does the same. Her goddess locs pulled back into a ponytail reach below her bottom.

"Did anyone see y'all?" I quiz Saban.

"Probably." Saban shrugs. "It's pointless, anyway. Angel de la Muerte runs these two towns and most of the southeast, let alone the state. How do you think to stop him or get us out?" The words are bitter, hurt, and afraid.

Easy looks from Saban to me, a frown puckering her brow with concern. Dead weight settles in my tummy. The whole family knows how hard she went for Angel when Oz tried to break them up. He left highly upset over her choosing the cartel boss and demanding the family accept him.

I'm so damn proud of her standing up for herself. Easy has spent so much time being a good little Christian since her mom and dad died in Iraq when she was nine. I could have told her that it doesn't matter because good or bad awful things happen.

"Wait. What's going on?" Easy's voice is high and reedy. She looks afraid of what we are about to say.

"You didn't tell her?" I know my voice is sounding both tired and accusatory as I address Saban. Now, I have to break the news that her new husband is a child trafficker. Ugh. I can't believe that Saban got her to come without telling her anything. Taking my flask, I offer them both fortification for the news.

"No time. Look, I know Angel is your husband. Hell, he was like a brother to me…" Saban heaves a deep breath, emotions overcoming her. "I never would have thought—" choking on the words she looks like she's about the be sick.

"Those motherfuckers are dirty." Unscrewing my flask, I take a swig before waving my arms in a large arc. "All of them. Angel, Snake, Rocco, that tall fine young'un, Pastor?—"

"Padre," she corrects me, dread filling her face, she absently touches her tummy like she's about to be sick.

"Yeah, him and old funky ass Ulysses Holier-Than-Swiss-Cheese-Ugly-Ass-Shelby," I spit out his name with so much venom, knowing I'm hurting — knowing it shows. My voice sounds raw, wounded, tone withering as I recount how I found myself following Ulysses last night out of the blue, leaving out the fact I'd let him fuck me after he ignored me at Nikki's graduation.

She's so engrossed, but not so much that she doesn't call me out. "And just what the heck are you doing with a Shelby, cuz?" She balls a little fist, settling it on her ample hips.

"I messed up, ok?" Shrugging, I don't have a defense. I feel like I used to when I first got rescued from that evil cult of a foster home Kerania and I were put in and would act out. My nose stings from shame. From feeling stupid for trusting in something I never should have. A Shelby ain't never meant a Love any good.

To her credit Easy just nods proving that she's better than me, all that Baptist Training Union really stuck. I can tell she even thinks to give Angel another chance. Like it's nothing that can't be fixed. I tell her the rest bursting that bubble with quick efficiency.

"They brought kids here, Ezekiel-Jane. Kids. Some of them like three or four. For nasty motherfuckers to fuck on."

"Woah," she stops me right there. "No way. Angel told me to my face he never dealt in kids because of what happened to him." Saban's face blanches, obviously she knows more of his story than us because she nods. Easy's face is a wash of relief until she starts talking.

"That's what I thought too, Easy." She swallows. "Snake and I had a big fight the night of the celebration. He's been acting all fucked up after what happened with Rudy. I don't know." She shrugs confused answering a question to herself it seems. "Like it was my fault." Another shrug, this time stiff and angry. "Anyways, I saw him leave and found him out at a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. You know they have scattered all over the place out here. When I got there I saw Kandie. We waited until they left and snuck in. We talked to some of the older girls. They told us everything. They said El Presidente of El Diablo ordered their resettlement. That's what they called it. Some of the coyotes had already raped a few of the girls and beat them up to test them out." Saban shakes her head looking hollow. Looking as broken as I felt.

Disgust ripples through me. The man I lay with last night was an active participant in this. The Remy sours in my tummy. I haven't eaten, and it almost comes back up. I swallow hard.

I realize she believes us. She can tell every bit of it is true. The conviction and pain are enough. She doesn't need any more convincing. My cousin knows I've never been a liar.

Saban, though much younger than me and I don't know her that well obviously, has her trust as part of the secret community of bikers Easy has found herself in.

"So what's next?" she asks us, standing taller than her, barely five-foot-one — brave and heartbroken like the both of us.

"I called the feds," I tell her. "You know we are always told to put our own work in as Loves but there were over three dozen kids there. They are raiding the place as we speak." Showing her the text from LL, I let her read the updates he's been sending on the operation.

On cue her phone chimes. We crowd around her reading the text from Angel.

Angel: Aye, don't come home just yet. Hang out at the library for an hour and if I don't come to get you go to Ma-Pete's and wait for me there.

Easy : Ok

She looks up after making sure we see every word. "Now what? I don't think even if they get arrested, they will keep them. Unless they are there and can be identified, none of this can stick to them."

"They are never going to keep them in jail. They aren't going to be able to stop them. Ever." The cold finality of her voice is shocking.

Easy knows her husband, his resources, his power, and more importantly, what he's capable of. It's hard to reconcile the men we've gotten entangled with and who they are, in reality — villains. They are not the type of men you find a happy ever after with like you do in good urban or dark romance you happen upon. No, in reality you find your ass floating in the Tombigbee.

The reality of life was thrust into my face when I was a kid having my family ripped from me. I knew I shouldn't trust Ulysses. I should've known he'd only come around to keep tabs on me for Angel. I knew it — deep down, but I just wanted to fool myself into believing he wanted me for me and not some nefarious plan between him and the cartel.

Easy steps away from us, letting her words sink as she turns to make a call.

"The fuck you want?" The voice growls across the line from thousands of miles away. She has it on speaker so we can hear it.

"I need you to come get me," she whispers. Moving to her side, I can hear the fear bleeding through for the first time.

"What did he do to you, baby cuz?" Oz's hard question cuts over the line.

"Nothing." She answers quick like it's a knee-jerk defense of her husband.

"Bullshit," he starts to sigh so heavily. "I'm on my way. Takeda has an airstrip. Do you know where it is?"

"No." Easy looks to me and Saban and we both shake our heads.

"I'll call him and have him send someone to come get you," he says.

"No," Easy rushes in. "He's really tight with Angel. He will see it as his obligation to tell him." Her eyes getting wilder and wilder with fear make my tummy tighten.

"Fuck." The harsh swear resounds in the room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," parrots soon after in a cute baby voice.

"What's going on?" We all turn to find Krie standing inside the door holding the small hand of Mateo, a frown puckering her brown face as she looks from our littlest Love saying the bad words he's just learned from us.

"We have to get out of town," Saban says.

"Wait a minute, who all is there?" Oz's dark question clearly indicates he doesn't appreciate all these surprise developments.

"Me, Saban, Krie, little Mateo who just came in, and Kandie." Easy's sheepish reply has him muttering curse after curse.

"Kandie? Fucking figures." Another long-suffering sigh. "I guess all the news coming in about a raid on traffickers has something to do with this little gathering. "Find a way out to the airstrip. I will find a way to get clearance?—"

"I can get it." Krie, who still looks ravaged from losing her restaurant and the man she so obviously loves, pipes up, cutting him off.

"How?" Oz sounds hopeful yet doubting all the same.

"Kiyoshi lets me bring in imports, so I don't have to go all the way to Birmingham or face a lot of hassles. I doubt he'll rescind it just because I'm not with him anymore." Her voice is sure, even though her eyes look like two open wounds.

"Y'all and these fucking guys. Y'all didn't learn shit from Mama-Pete, on god. Krie, keep your phone. The rest of y'all burn those motherfuckers. They are going to find you. Hopefully, Angel didn't put a tracker in you, Easy. I'll scan you when I get there and take it out if he did."

"He didn't." The way she's still defending him has me smirking and shaking my head.

"I'll check when I get there," he insists. "Saban, what about you?"

"I'm not sure." She's looking at her arms. Snake was like her guardian, right? Why would he put a tracker in her? All these men are unhinged maniacs. And it was my daddy people wanted to lock away, when these motherfuckers are walking around supposedly perfectly sane, wreaking havoc on the public with impunity.

"Kandie?" he growls.

"No fucking way," I hiss. I can't leave my business. It's all I have made evident more by this entire situation.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," comes Mateo's singsong voice. We all huff out a laugh despite the darkness falling around our lives.

(Weeks Later)

"I ain't scared of none of them. Coming up in my place thinking they are going to stop something. You showed them, though." Ms. Queenie clinks her shot of Casamigos Silver with mine before tossing it back with nary a wince from the burn.

"Damn straight." I wink at her. In the weeks that Easy and Saban have been gone, Angel and his crew have all but turned Shelby-Love upside down looking for his wife. He's attacked every Love business and stopped commerce in the city. Bikers lined up in front of businesses is a big deterrent. Which has led to fights with my male cousins and some of his crew. Gun play has been expressly forbidden, but Nebraska, Nehemiah, Benjamin, and their brothers came back bloody and bruised from a hijacking of the Honey Love Apiary the other day. One of the bikers was put into the hospital. Then there was a big thing over at the apothecary with Crimson and Clover, that somehow got resolved with Rocco and Padre stepping in right when things were about to escalate.

Still, all the good his hell raising is doing. No one is telling the big bad cartel boss anything. Try as he might to intimidate us, Loves don't bend and we sure don't fucking break. Our ancestors didn't withstand hundreds of years of enslavement to have us bow to some machete swinging cartel boss throwing a tantrum because his ass got left for being a dirty ass dog. Nope. Nopity. Nope. Nope.

I hear the vroom rumbling of the choppers long before they stop in front of my bakery. Technically, there has been a curfew enacted since all hell has broken loose between the Loves and El Diablos. Loves don't scare, but that can't be said for the rest of the denizens of Shelby-Love. The Spencers have even stepped in to try to broker peace but their reputation is only slightly better than the Shelbys.

They were quick to have all businesses closed by eight p.m. It's eleven and a Friday night. I ain't studying them. Yeah, they had The Shack shut down, but they aren't going to do that to me. I don't care how many of them park outside my place all day and night. They better not touch me because I will stab them fifty-four times.

We ain't going to stop having fun just because Angel can't have my cousin, who's too good for his big mean ass. He bullied her into that marriage anyways. Snake is being just as bad. He started that mess over at Crimson and Clover's place. He's even more unhinged about his so-called ward than Angel is about his actual wife, threatening two sweet girls on the autism spectrum because they formulate pigments for Saban. Asshole.

I don't even look up when the giants step into my establishment, just sprinkle salt, lick my wrist, toss back the shot, and bite into a lime wedge.

"Look there." Queenie nods in their direction with a bitter expression on her face.

Angel winks and she flips him off.

Sliding him Padre and Snake, a lazy look. I straighten sauntering over to them putting an extra sway in my hips that has their eyes narrowing. Yeah, I know they are pent up since they don't have their women to play with anymore. If anything, their stances tighten like they're preparing to be attacked — smart of them because I don't have to win. I just have to maim.

Stopping in front of the meanest of them all I throw my head back to meet his hard gaze. "Get your big ugly ass outta my bakery." Spearing looks at Padre and Snake, I add, "And you. And you."

On my fifth shot of tequila I'm feeling no pain and ready to fight plenty.

"You need to slow down on the booze." He scans the place like he's looking for a threat. It's most of The Shack's regulars, all seem harmless but you never know.

"Oh, ho?" I rock back a little on my heels before leaning forward steady and strong.

"You care about people now? Hm?" Pressing my lips together I muse hilariously. He's such a funny big ass dummy. "What about all them kids you were trafficking to pimp out you sick ass fuck?"

Every word raises until I'm damn near shouting into his hard face. Padre flinches but I ignore his ass — he was there. I saw him clear as day.

"You are all the rankest pieces of shit," I spit out.

People look up but the thing about this place is secrets run deep. It will spread and there will be more suspicion and distrust, but no one is going to talk about it publicly. That's not how it's done. Places like Shelby-Love are built on secrets, lies, and the blood of the innocent. That's how Bishop Smith was able to victimize so many kids for so long. Sometimes I hate it here.

"You don't know what the fuck you are talking about. Those kids were brought over by Rudy and I ended his ass. Is that what you told Ezekiel-Jane?" His words are low but they carry because everyone in this room wants to know what I have to say.

"How did you get there? Saban?" Angel looks back at the first words Snake, his lieutenant, speaks since entering my place. They sound raw, almost painful to hear, but not with sadness no. That emotion is not one I think either of them feel. It's rage. A rage I share having seen the state those kids were in — the state so many of the girls were in at that foster home. They were seeking safety no different than Kerania and I so yeah, I'm so hot I'm ready to burn their whole organization down. Short of that and limited resources I will be the force of resistance as long as I can.

I relish in telling him how I discovered their little enterprise and what I gladly shared with the authorities and Easy leaving out her devastation and how she tried to defend him until the truth settled on her — that her husband was the worst of villains. It was the first time I have ever talked with the law since I was a kid. I know well enough when things are beyond my scope and LL is who I trust above all. He was by my side the whole time.

"No." I cross my arms over my chest, staring him down. "I saw her when I got there. All those kids." I shake my head in disgust, recalling bunk after bunk of scared kid, remembering another time with that same setup. Tears burn the back of my eyes. I hate them so bad for dredging this shit up in me.

"I know you bring people over. Hell, some of them are in here." The fierce need to get away from them, not to mention not letting them see how this is affecting me, has me waving them off and going back over where another shot freshly poured by Ms. Queenie awaits.

I toss another back and pat the counter. "Another, sugah." Just as I try to grab it, Angel storms over, slapping it out of my hand. I wring my burning fingers, looking at the violence barely leashed in this mountain of masculine rage. I feel a thrill of violence rise in answer to his aggression.

"Where is my wife?" Baring his teeth like the mythical chupacabra he demands, like he's about to rip me apart. I return with a "do your worst, bitch," glare.

"I. Don't. Know. Away from your ass. One of those girls said her sister was raped." My eyes well with tears of anger. "When I told Easy, she looked like she wanted to die. Just like I did knowing—" my words cut off. I look past him as Ulysses slams into my bakery like an avenging angel — no, demon. He was never good. The worst of the lot since he's supposed to be the one protecting and serving, not lining his pockets off trafficking kids to be used by perverts.

"It was you," he roars, stalking toward us. The tendons in his neck stand out harsh in the light. His jaw is working so hard I'm sure he's grinding his molars down to nubs. He deserves to be a bare mouth bitch. Maybe it will interrupt some of that beauty. I can't stand his ass and it fuels me.

"Damn straight you fucking monster, you gotdamn, dirty ass cop, hypocrite ass motherfucker," the scream rips out of me at the top of my lungs. A hush falls over the already quiet room. I stand alone like I'm in a tomb of despair, tears streaming down my face. I hurl shot glasses, napkin dispensers, hell anything I can at him.

Angel's ducking to avoid a napkin dispenser, and a saltshaker would be funny with the way he contorts his big body to avoid my missiles aimed at his friend if I wasn't so serious.

Ulysses shoves past Angel and his men. As soon as he reaches me, I slam my fist into his face. His head snaps to the side from the impact. Everything slows. He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and it comes back bloody.

I feel a wild smile spreading over my face. I meet the cold rage of blue ice with pride for myself brimming to the surface. I got my lick back. He's going to regret hurting me — hurting those kids.

"Kandie Love, you're under arrest for assaulting a police officer," he says calmly.

"You mean a lying, murdering, trafficking scumbag," I sneer at the bug headed beast I had the great misfortune to ever care about.

Disappointment and haunting pain eat at me now, my satisfaction quickly gutters just looking at him. My heart craters, my soul seems to deflate as anger evaporates all too soon. All the fighting gives way to grief and exhaustion. He broke my heart, and I can't hide it, not from him — not from anyone.

"That too," he growls. Instead of handcuffing me, he picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder and walks out of the bakery turned bar into the night.