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“She directed me to wait.”
Melody…God damn it, woman…must you drive me to gray hair before I even turn forty?
“Boss?”
“What!”
He moved to stand in front of me. “I would never dare pretend I know the boss more than you.”
“But?” I could feel it coming.
“But…as you remember, she did not grow up like you did. You had a family. No matter what you all went through as a family, you were a family. The boss was alone for most of her life and when she was with her father, he was doing everything in his power to make her into a bloody soldier. The boss, Melody Nicci Giovanni Callahan, is a soldier, and like all soldiers, she is at her best when she is fighting. She doesn’t understand peace. She tries to for the sake of you and your children, but at the end of the day, she will always feel the need to fight. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else; it is her own personal curse.”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I kept eating, watching my children as they tried to learn poker from my mother. He hadn’t told me anything about my wife I didn’t already realize myself. She’d been playing the role of Governor Callahan for so long, Bloody Melody was losing her mind. If she needed to smash a few skulls to get focused again, I’d happily serve them up to her; that was the twisted way we loved each other.
MELODY
It must have been some person’s idea of a sick joke to call this place Bella Vista.
Over the years, I had put in a lot of time trying to repair the ghettos. However, Southbend and Bella Vista were still holding out against all my efforts. The crime rates had dropped, but it was hard to rebuild a com
munity the rest of the state didn’t want to invest in. It was even harder when those in that same community tried to do everything in their power to get in my way.
“Governor, are you sure about this?” Murphy said to me when I stepped out in front of the old diner. He was going to learn to never ask me that question.
“Please make this quick,” Mina said behind me as one other guard walked in front. The place smelled like stale coffee, pancakes, and beef. Every booth was filled with members of the Royals. Their heads all snapped back to me, their eyes wandering down my face to my heels.
“Lady, you lost or somethin’?”
It was always easy to spot the leader in a group. He was always the one who sat at the table farthest from the door, his back to the wall. His table always had, at least, one female and a cigarette or drink in his hand. In this case, it was two light-skinned women and a cigar.
Walking over to his table, I saw them all tense up.
“You’re in my seat,” I said to the man sitting across from him. He looked to his boss, grinning like a fool as he blew smoke from his lips.
“Let the good ol’ white lady sit down.”
They laughed and when he moved, I put my purse down beside me, crossing my legs when I sat.
“First off, I’m not white.”
“You got skin like a white woman, eyes like a white woman, and your nose so far up you gotta be a white woman.” The girl on his right laughed.
The girl on the left replied. “Nah, maybe she thinks she black like that lady…what her name again?”
“Rachel Dolezal,” I answered.
“Yeah, that her.” They laughed. “Where you from home girl? Cuz you lookin’ hella white to me right now.”
“I’m Italian, which means I got a whole different certification to beat your ass. Now get back to the pole or street corner; he and I have business to discuss.”
She reached for her glass of orange juice.
“Do it. I just came from church and I swear to God, I will end you.”
She hesitated, her eyes going to Murphy, who stood beside me. The next instant, she made up her mind and flung the glass of orange juice at me. I didn’t even move; Murphy’s body hovered over mine, the glass connecting with his shoulder and the juice splashing back on the table.
He didn’t say anything, only stood straighter beside me. Reaching for a few napkins, I cleaned off the table.
