Page 68 of A Capo’s Love: Featuring A Don’s Love

My stomach twisted violently while I staggered backward coughing hard. My eyes watered while panic started climbing fast up my spin. As I moved further into the house, I smelled something else. Instantly my chest loosened just enough to breathe properly. Because only one person smoked inside this house whenever Ronald wasn’t present.

My momma…

She always smoked when stressed. Usually by the kitchen window late at night after Ronald fell asleep from being too exhausted after whooping both our asses. He hated cigarettes with a passion. Used to complain constantly about the smell sticking to the curtains and furniture. When he was home and woke, she’d go outside and blaze one on the back porch.

Most of the time, she never listened. She was too immune to the abuse and even more immune to the disgust he had for her.

The cigarette smell drifting through the home now over rotting flesh, meant she was alive.

“Ma!” I called out loud enough to reach her since the house wasn’t that big.

“Roy,” Brutal’s voice cracked through house in a controlled tone.

I moved quickly toward where his voice was coming from. My shoulder slammed against the hallway wall while I pushed deeper into the house toward the kitchen. Brutal stepped out of the entrance, looked at me, and froze. His massive frame blocked part of the doorway while Tabari lingered behind him looking like he didn’t know whether to step forward or leave entirely.

The smell grew stronger as I neared close to them. Then I heard her voice, sounding frail and weak but it gave me the relief I was desperately clinging on to.

“Royal.” She called out again.

My chest damn near caved in.

“We’ll stand out in the hallway to give you two space. I’ll call for back up to sweep and torch the place.” Brutal patted my shoulder and moved out the way with Tabari on his heels.

I couldn’t find my voice, so I just pushed past Brutal fast then stopped at the island next to the refrigerator. My momma sat at the kitchen table near the open window with a cigarette burning between her thin lips. Her smooth brown skin looked dull and ashen. She looked completely destroyed almost beyond recognition.

Purple bruises stretched from her face down beneath the collar of her oversized house robe. Both eyes swollen dark and almost shut. Her bottom lip was busted open with dried up blood stuck in the center. One side of her jaw looked puffed up bad like it had been broken.

My breathing stopped because this shit didn’t look like abuse, it looked like she was tortured. The cigarette shook between her fingers as the smoke curled softly around her bruised face like a halo. She smiled weakly at me then leaned all of her upper weight against the wooden table with the palm of her hand, keeping the weight of the bottom of her face up.

“I couldn’t call Luca for this, son… I’ve been calling you for weeks now,” she uttered lowly.

Snapping out of the trance I was locked in, I moved across the kitchen to get to her, feeling guilty about dodging all of her calls. Questions hit me hard, like how long had she been sitting by the kitchen window with this pungent smell reeking up the entire house and the outside.

My foot caught something heavy near the kitchen table before I could actually get to her. I tripped first then stumbled hard over what felt like…

“Ronald…” My words trailed off as I pushed myself up as fast as I landed.

“I finally did what I should’ve done years ago.” Her soft voice cracked.

Ronald’s body laid crumpled across the kitchen floor surrounded by dried blood that looked so dark it nearly looked black against the tile. A butcher knife was buried deep in his chest. Blood stained the front of his shirt, and as I looked around… I noticed blood everywhere.

Along the island, the cabinets, and the yellow painted walls that highlighted the sun during the mornings and afternoons. The smell of death hit harder standing over his bitch ass. I felt my eyes welling up but the shit wasn’t from feeling sadness.

It was from pure rage. I only stayed away to stop myself from killing him. I looked up at her and my heart cracked open as I allowed relief to flood over my burning rage in the moment. It looked like her soul was tired. Like she got tired of just surviving him and forcing a love between them that never existed.

“Roy,” she whispered my name this time.

I closed the space between us, dropping down beside her. I gently grabbed the sides of her sunken face despite my hands shaking hard as hell. I took a moment to just fuckin’ breathe. I inhaled her struggles and deep-rooted pain. From the smell radiating off of her and the puddle of urine beneath her chair, I know she sat like this for days. Maybe even over a week. She hadn’t bathed or stood up from the spot as must and dried up piss reeked off her pores.

I imagined her moving on autopilot after killing him. A whole carton of cigarettes sat in front of the ashtray with three packs empty. She kept her carton’s above the sink since outside and this spot was her favorite smoking spot.

My jaw clenched so hard, pain shot through my temples.

“Brutal,” I called out for him.

Seconds later him and Tabari moved back inside the kitchen. I didn’t have to instruct him on what to do. He cursed lowly under his breath while Tabari moved further into the kitchen checking Ronald’s body. All I could focus on was my momma. Broken down into pieces, sitting with a corpse and cigarettes without any moral support.

“How long?” I asked hoarsely.