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“Honey, you’ve had a rough night. I wouldn’t know any other way to be. Now don’t you worry. Lily is in good hands. Like I told you, your sister is resting. We’re hoping to give her a full psych evaluation over the next few days, and then, if the doctor deems her competent, she can give consent to make you privy to the results. That can take a few weeks. She only gave permission for you to be contacted in case of an emergency, but not to be told anything regarding a possible diagnosis.”
“I understand.”
“Again, she does have you and your mother listed as people to contact. So, I can’t imagine her refusing to share the findings, but you know these things aren’t etched in stone.”
“She has a lot of hostility towards me.”
“Iris, depending on what the cause of your sister’s behavior is, it may have little to nothin’ to do with you. You see, when I came out here, I mentioned how much you two look alike. Yes, she’s skinny as a spaghetti noodle, the poor child ain’t been eating, and you’re thin too, although healthy—but I can see the resemblance. Strong. That means she can also see what I see. She could be lashing out at herself throughyou. You’re like a mirror. You’re what she felt shecouldhave been, had she not had to deal with all of these traumas and psychological wars inside of herself. If I were a betting woman, I would place my money on that. Lily is exhausted. She’s been fighting this her entire life. She don’t hate you, honey. She loves you. She hatesherself. Don’t take her words personally. Everything she may have said to you that was nasty and mean, she was probably sayin’ to herself. These sorts of things are rarely what they seem.”
Iris had never thought of that. The nurse’s words did give her a sense of hope.
“We’ll let you know what Dr. Riverton says by the end of the week, okay?”
“Okay, thank you, Ms. Katherine.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Go home and get some sleep. We’ll be in touch.” And then, the nurse walked away.
Iris nudged Ayanna awake, took her hand, and walked out of the hospital. She had to call Mama and Aunt Blue and tell them everything that had happened. First though, she wanted to get Ayanna in bed. There would be no school tomorrow. She planned to call her teachers and have Ayanna work online. There was no way she could send that child off after what she’d just endured. After she got Ayanna settled, and hugged on her real good, she wanted to disappear behind her bedroom door, crawl into her bed, and have a good cry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
In Contempt of Court
The wind whippedaround Jude as he rode his motorcycle and dark thoughts took over for a few moments.
When the dust settles, and the world grows quiet with a sense of false peace, evil awakens. Don’t ever forget this: Malevolent minds never rest. Wickedness uses that exhale of relief from the naïve, to plan and plot, then crawl towards its oblivious prey, and burrow beneath the hems of shadows, lying in wait…
As he drove, he reminisced on what had happened in recent days, to lift his mood for a minute. The last few weeks had been downright manic, although he was built for such hectic times. Everything had been quite interesting. Such as joining Iris at the little shop nestled between a lackluster bakery and vape store to hire a wedding coordinator and peruse decorations. Or, calling her old minister back in Memphis to ask him to perform the wedding ceremony. Then, meeting her Aunt Blue and Mama for the first time at that same little shop filled with expensive centerpieces and overpriced cake toppers.
He’d figured the encounter with the two ladies would be awkward. Not for him, but for them. After all, he was no stranger to getting side-eyes and second glances. There he was, a White man covered in tattoos, arriving at the place in his vehicle, the biggest truck he could find in the damn city, blasting ‘Cold Beer Calling My Name’ by Jameson Rodgers and Luke Combs, in the middle of a Black neighborhood with no fucks given. If one were to look him up on paper, Jude reckoned any woman’s loved ones worth their salt would be none too pleased that he didn’t come from the best of backgrounds. He wasn’t squeaky clean, far from an angel, and the Devil knew him by name. On top of it all, he tested his luck because Iris was the only woman he gave a damn about making a good impression with her kinfolk.
So, he found himself surrounded by glitter and gold, fairytale and romance shit, and told two of the most important women in his lady’s life that he was requesting their permission to have her hand in marriage. Well, he’d marry her come hell or high water, but it would always be better to have their blessing. Iris found it amusing he’d actually asked for her hand.
Luckily, Iris had talked a big game about him, and she was right about her mama—the woman was sweet as honey and spoke real soft and light. Aunt Blue, on the other hand, was the polar opposite, and he liked her even more.
What had started out as awkward became a fun experience, with all of them cracking up and enjoying lunch at a steakhouse afterwards. His treat. Iris had been rather gregarious, talking about his brewery—she’d been impressed the couple of times she’d come through and seen it with her own eyes. He’d been slowly stepping back from the life and had more time on his hands as of late, but the transition wasn’t exactly smooth. He was a dealer down to his damn bones. He was good at something that he now hated.Ain’t God funny?Nevertheless, it was time to pass the torch so he could light a new one, with Iris.
He returned his focus to the task at hand… dangling his hatred of a certain someone before him like a carrot…
Placing his EarPods in his ears, listening to Disturbed’s, ‘The Sound of Silence,’ he pulled up to the abandoned barn as the sun started to set. Turning the music up to high volume, he parked his bike around the back of the shed, got off it, and opened the rusty lock on the rundown gray and red doors.
The filtering of sun rays and glints of dust looked like bits of diamond dust as the weak structure was bathed in the outside light. Jude walked about the enclosure, mists of cool zephyr forming with every breath. He checked out the old cars inside the ramshackle construction, as well as the vintage gas station signs, ancient illegal equipment for making alcohol, and a number of mechanical odds and ends from the 1960s, ’70s, and 80s. Jude had bought this plot of land seven years prior. It was overrun with wreckage and had become a dumping ground. He got it cleaned up and wasn’t surprised to discover that it was rich with history, and he was drawn to this desolate place like a moth to a flame. He saved everything that had been in the barn, right where it belonged. He’d even kept a timeworn riding lawnmower in the back, along with old cars that Cain would purchase from auctions. Making his way there, he picked up one of the containers of gasoline with his gloved hands.
He went to an old 2001 silver Honda and swiped a thick layer of dust from the door handle. Cain had picked this baby up off the street. It had no Vin number, and the bookkeeping was sketchy. He went into prison before he could have it completely fixed and sell it. Popping the hood, he put in fresh oil, and gave it a quick look over. Minutes later, he had the engine roaring, the gas tank full, and his duffle bag of supplies in the backseat. He drove away, a fresh cigarette lit and arms outside the window. The sweet day gone, superseded by the icy kiss of the night. He played one of Cain’s favorite songs, ‘Wild Thing,’ by A Spartan Will Rise, on his phone as he trekked the backroads. After a while, he was in East Nashville.
Those backroads were replaced with city streets lined with hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurants, four pump gas stations with bars and glass partitions, twenty-four-hour car washes notorious for drug dealing, and corner stores that sold blunt papers and Lucys.
Judge entered Trinity Hills and pulled up to a bar, El Torero, frequented by a motherfucker he loved to hate. It had once been a rhythm and blues joint back in the 1980’s and ’90’s, but the gangs had taken over, and claimed it as their own. He sat in the parking lot, tossed his cigarette out the window, and turned off the engine. The loud muffler backfired, then settled. He adjusted his bulletproof vest under his shirt, then reached in his jacket, and pulled out a black face mask. Casually sliding it on, he exited the car and strolled in the place.
“Today seems like a good day to die!” Jude roared as he held up two semi-automatic weapons and sprayed the damn spot like a firefighter.
Deafening screams echoed throughout the joint, and people scattered, running for their lives out the door as Jude approached a motherfucker towards the back known as Juárez Garcia—street name, El Perro del Infierno, or Hell Dog. By the time the guy realized what was happening, it was too damn late. Jude moved like a tornado, machine guns blasting, and peppered Perro’s minions with an avalanche of bullets. Many reached for their guns and shot back, but either missed, or were too damn slow.
They all fall down…
Jude kept his back against a wall, looking in all directions, shooting, re-loading, and starting again. Meanwhile, Baby Bash’s, ‘Certified Freak’ blasted in the saloon.
BAM!
