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“Get your hands off her.”
The voice that spoke isn’t part of the memory. The men cheered him on. They didn’t tell him to remove his hands. They were filming it, laughing as I cried.
“Now.”
The deadly calm in the baritone voice is dangerous. It’s like this morning’s quiet before the storm. Tiny freezes, bringing my attention back to him, to the present. He drops his penis and lifts his hands, glancing over his shoulder as he takes a step back.
“Easy, man,” he says in a thin voice. “You’re interrupting our fun.”
“Fun?” The tall, broad figure in the dark steps forward, a gun aimed at Tiny.
His face is in the shadows, but I know it’s him. I know his voice, his shape, his smell, his very presence.
“Doesn’t look like she’s having fun,” Gabriel says.
“Whoa.” Tiny laughs nervously. “You’ve got it all wrong, here. Tiny ain’t doing nothing wrong. She’s Tiny’s bitch. Ain’t you, honey? Come on, love.” He jerks his head in Gabriel’s direction. “Tell the man.”
Gabriel moves so fast, I don’t see it coming. The one minute he’s standing at the entrance of the alley and the next he’s in front of Tiny, hitting him in the stomach with a punch that sends him flying through the air and falling in the gutter water. Gabriel steps over him, pointing the gun at his head.
“Oh, fuck.” Tiny lifts his hands. “I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t recognize you.”
Gabriel cocks his neck, cracking a bone. “Apologize.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Louw, really I am.”
“To her, not to me, you prick.”
Tiny licks his lips and glances at me briefly before returning his gaze to the gun. “Sorry. Tiny didn’t know you and Mr. Louw are friends.”
“Friends?” Gabriel utters a cold laugh that vanishes as quickly as it started. “She’s property.”
Tiny gulps and starts crying. “Fuck, man.”
I’m shivering in my dress, feeling like I’m stuck in a very bad dream.
“Valentina.” The firm way in which Gabriel says my name commands my attention. “Walk to the street and wait on the corner.”
“No,” Tiny says, shaking his dreadlocks, snot running from his nose. “Please, fuck. No.”
Gabriel is going to shoot him.
“Gabriel, please…” I take a step toward him. I need to find a connection with him, to reason with him. “Please, look at me.”
He doesn’t look away from Tiny. “I won’t tell you again. Leave the alley and wait at the corner.”
I start crying myself, touching Gabriel’s arm. “He’s not worth it. Don’t.”
I can’t live with myself knowing I’m the reason for another man’s death. My father is enough.
Gabriel cups my nape, and drags me closer, pressing me hard against his body without moving his aim from Tiny. He kisses my temple with his gaze fixed on the man on the ground and speaks softly against my ear.
“Go. Now.”
In Gabriel’s world, there’s vengeance and violence. Violence can be dissuaded, but never vengeance. I know how it works. If he doesn’t shoot Tiny, Tiny will have to kill him or look over his shoulder forever. I don’t want this for Gabriel. I don’t want him to carry another life on his conscience, especially not because of me.
“Gabriel––”
Quincy comes running down the alley. He brakes in his tracks when he takes in the scene.
Roughly, Gabriel shoves me toward Quincy. “Take her to the car.”
Quincy doesn’t hesitate. He drags me kicking and screaming down the alley, all the way to the car where Rhett waits. He bundles me into the back and wipes a hand over his face. Rhett gives me a grim look in the rearview mirror. I huddle in the corner, unable to control my shaking. I wait for a shot to go off, but hear nothing. Gabriel would use a silencer. A few seconds later, he exists the alley, adjusting his cuffs and walking with brisk strides to the car, my purse in his hands.
Once he’s in, Rhett pulls off. No one says a word on the way home. Gabriel puts his arm around me, holding me tight, and I close my eyes and cry quietly for the terrible act he committed for me.
* * *
Gabriel
At that hour, everyone at home is asleep. We park at the back so I can carry Valentina to her room without having to traverse the whole house. She objects when I lift her into my arms, but I don’t heed her. Rhett and Quincy will go back to deal with the body. They know the drill. Since that scumbag fucker son of a bitch Tiny wasn’t connected to any gang, there are no logistics or payoff to iron out. My priority is Valentina.
Oscar jumps from the tumble drier and runs ahead of me into Valentina’s room to keep guard in the windowsill. I lay her down on the bed and remove her trainers before stripping the dress. It’s going to the trashcan. I don’t want anything that filthy Zambian touched on her skin. Anyway, the dress is threadbare.
