A Savage Kinda Love Page 2

  Nikko chuckled and pulled back before reaching into the front pocket of his pants for another cigarette, lifting one from the pack with ease and shoving it between his lips despite his swollen cheek. The guard threw a hand into the center of his chest and pointed. Nikko pressed two fingers along the corner of his temple and snapped them forward to give an improper sailor's salute. Then he whirled away from him and strolled across the yard through another gate with two more guards casually following in behind him as if what had just taken place hadn't at all.

  Chapter Two

  Present Company In(Ex)cluded

  Two hours later, the doors to the room finally unlatched and reopened.

  I turned from the window and rushed to an unoccupied table near the corner vending machines, taking a seat at the center of a rickety bench and anxiously covered my face when the inmates began pouring back in.

  While my father and his bright white afro led the pack ahead of other men who seemed more than thrilled to be reuniting with their loved ones in a world where normality ceased to exist, he appeared somewhat hesitant to see me again.

  Or annoyed that I was still there.

  After making his way over to the table, he took a seat on the opposite side and placed his hands between us, then bent forward and jutted his chin. "I honestly didn't think you'd bother sticking around after all the shit that went down out there."

  I made a face. "We weren't exactly finished talking about your situation with The Renegades and how the hell to get out of it despite being officially stripped of all your patches, but..." I leaned into him and flicked my thumb toward the window; I glared. "What the hell was all of that out there?"

  "Nothing," he replied, his voice low, gruff but anxious. "It was nothing."

  "You're kidding."

  He shook his head before searching his eyes across the room as if looking for someone else he knew and jerked his shoulders. "It was nothing you need to worry about right now, Cheyenne."

  I guffawed. His greenish-brown eyes narrowed while rolling back to mine. He peered. "Those two men out there just killed three guards in plain view of the entire prison," I said, twisting my head to the side like a confused dog; he remained silent. "One gets carted away like a pig meant for slaughter while the other just walks out with another cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth--? That wasn't just 'nothing'."

  "Cheyenne," he snapped. "You don't know the shit that went down out there."

  "I know what the hell I saw happening from inside this very room just like everyone else currently acting like it didn't."

  "Maybe you need to start following suit along with the rest of 'em." I flinched as a sudden twinge of anger flared up inside of me like a bolt of lightning striking near a wired fence and glowered. My father soured in reaction and sniffed as a thin layer of sweat instantly appeared along the corner of his temple, rolling down the side of his face and stopping just above the edge of his square shaped, stubble covered jawline. He raised a wrinkled finger to my face, showcasing the depth of his age in comparison to the other men in the room, and sneered. "What happens in here -- sometimes shit gets carried the fuck away; it's the same assholes twenty-five eight always seeing nothing but each other. No women, no pussy, just bat swinging dick," he said. "You need to understand that shit and by now, I thought you would've."

  "This wasn't just getting 'carried away' like all the other times I've seen before inside this facility, Dad. Three guards are dead at the hands of a pair of inmates," I spat. "And you're acting like this just happens all the time when I know damn well it doesn't happen like this. Not when what I just witnessed happening out there was pure anarchy. This is liable to make the news."

  "No, the fuck it won't."

  "You're sure?!"

  He dropped his hand from me and grunted. "What the fuck do you want me to say?!" he snapped, his eyes widening as spit flew out from the corners of his mouth onto the table. "We're not gonna keep discussing it out here in the open like this, understand?"

  "The same open where it all went down?" My brows knit as I sat back from him and swallowed hard. "Why did you disappear on me before the lockdown?"

  He sucked in a breath and quickly swallowed it back. "What the fuck are you talking about--? I was in here."

  "No, you weren't -- not in suddenly excusing yourself as soon as Nikko was brought out into the yard; right after telling me who the hell he was and that you were forced into taking him under your wing in here -- why?"

  He eyed me with a fire that burned along the rims of his irises; it was a look I hadn't witnessed from him since spilling a cup of coffee all over the keyboard of a brand new laptop he had won from a raffle that took place inside the club when I was eight years old. "I had to take a goddamn dump," he finally said, his shoulders hunched as his jaw tightened.

  "In the middle of our visit and right before a fight? That's damn convenient I would say -- what are they feeding you in here, fresh oats straight from the barrel?"

  "That's enough of that shit."

  "Nothing is ever enough with you and in this case, it shouldn't be," I said. His eyes darted across the room again as he folded one hand over the other and cracked his knuckles. "Why the hell are you sitting across from me and acting like what happened out there was an everyday occurrence when it wasn't?" I bent forward again and tempered my voice. "Why is everyone on that train? Aside from a few gasps and initial shocks as soon as that first guard went down, people are treating all of this like two inmates didn't just commit literal murder right before our very eyes."

  "What the fuck do you expect any of 'em to do about it?" He waved his hands and shrugged. "Is anybody in here a goddamn medic that you can see? Could they have saved any of 'em otherwise?"

  I dropped back again and swallowed hard while anxiously eying him from head to waist. "That's not the point I was trying to make--"

  "Then what the fuck is the point on this shit, Cheyenne?" The whites of his eyes flashed red as he leaned his head back. "'Cause you talking about this shit ain't gonna suddenly change what the fuck happened out there."

  "I'm not trying to change what happened more than I'm trying to understand why the hell it did in the first place," I said.

  "It doesn't fucking concern you any more than--"

  "Like hell it doesn't, and it matters to me just as much. And the fact that it doesn't to you in either respect gives me all kinds of pause about the 'whys' behind you really bouncing out of here in the first place. And now, I'm waiting."

  "For what?"

  "The answers to all of this." A long wave of silence washed between us before he finally broke it off with the tapping of his foot against the stickiest part of the floor. I grumbled. "Dad--"

  "Alright. Goddamn," he finally blurted through a harsh sigh. "The kid out there starting all this shit that I told you about -- Nikko." I nodded. "The shit he pulled with that other motherfucker is liable to get me even more fucked up in here -- and not just with the club."

  "What the hell are you talking about? With who?"

  He dragged the edge of his thumb along the top of his right eyebrow and shook his head. "Talking about it with you isn't some kinda shit that should be happening after what you just saw."

  I shifted against the bench. "It should be unless you want me to keep asking questions about it--"

  "Christ. All this shit just like your mother. You see where the fuck it got her."

  "She isn't dead because she asked too many questions," I told him, "she's dead because of not asking enough -- now keep going."

  His hand dropped back down to the table as he relaxed his shoulders and gradually exhaled. "When I told you about Nikko's old man asking me to look out for him after learning I was brought in for the shit that happened with Lena--"

  "You mean the former club whore turned prostitute that no one seems to have met outside of you and a handful of other brothers over the years?" I clarified. "Sure."

  He stopped to crack his knuckles again before continuing. "I fa
iled to mention that it was with the agreement I'd receive enough money from him to pay back what I stole from the club."

  "What the hell is his name?"

  "Chino Girabaldi."

  "My God, Dad." I rolled my eyes in aggravation and groaned. "A deal made on the contingency that everything would remain as is inside the walls of Rikers is about as smart as making a deal with a Devil who already has your endgame square inside his hands."

  "That's some pretty muthafuckin' obvious shit to my ass now, Chey, thanks," he mumbled. "And because I wasn't thinking everything would be blown up like this, and so goddamn fast--"

  "Am I going to be affected by all of this now too?" I asked with a light panic to my voice. "In the same way that I'm being screwed because of what you did to your now former club?"

  "No," he replied. "Because the shit to do with Nikko and his old man is my doing alone..." His eyes shifted from mine again; he gulped while flaring his nostrils and pushing his brows together. "I'm sorry for all this shit--"

  "No, you're not," I interjected. "Your only 'sorry' is that you got caught again, not for the actions that lead you right back inside of here; you're not sorry about anything you've ever done to me, or to yourself -- and sure as hell not sorry to my mother because it doesn't stop happening regardless of the outcome which has always, always been bad for all of us; especially for her."

  "Cheyenne--"

  "I'm in this mess of trying to save us both because you stole from the Renegades in the name of some two-bit whore who promised you... what was it that you said to me, again? Some deep throat and a hand-job in return for green? Meanwhile, she took the money and ran to anywhere but the hell she belongs, and now can't be found according to you and everyone else."

  "You need to calm your ass down on this shit--"

  "How the hell is that remotely possible when I'm on the hook for a debt you knew damn well you couldn't pay back on time -- if ever, because your 'brothers' needed their hands around something to keep you in check until they finally see that pile of green back inside their safe? And then what? Because even if they manage to get their money back and more of it, there is no guarantee that all of this just gets dropped as if it were nothing. No guarantee that you remain alive, even if it is still behind bars and no guarantee that I won't get further tarnished or threatened in some way for it."

  "They won't do shit to you, that's a promise they made to me about all this."

  "They won't do anything to me as long as they get paid for what you stole -- that was the deal being made and why you forced me back here to begin with. Did you forget that small part of it?! Because I sure as hell didn't." He fell quiet as I dragged my attention from him and glared. "You keep sucking me right back into your mistakes and think an 'I'm sorry' is enough to make up for your lack of understanding why this shouldn't keep happening."

  "I'm not going around planning this shit."

  "You think that matters one way or another anymore -- if it ever truly did?!" I shifted my eyes back to his and folded my arms across my chest. "Because for as long as I've been alive, I've never stopped being affected by it, and worse this time because I'm aware of the actual consequences. Now tell me the truth in why the hell you took off before Nikko and that other one threw down with those guards." He made a face. "Were you told about it beforehand?"

  "I'm not talking any more about it, Cheyenne."

  "Alright." I dropped my hands along the edge of the table and pushed myself to stand.

  "What the fuck?" He pointed. "Where are you going?"

  "Away from here. Because at this rate, there's no more reason for the conversation about how the hell I'm going to get you out of this mess with the club to continue."

  "You're hinging all that shit onto this?" he questioned, a light crack trailing along the edge of his last word as a furrow formed between his brows again. I nodded. "Why?"

  "Because I can't trust anything coming out of your mouth at this point. We both know you're lying and only one of us knows why." I sat back down and deeply exhaled. "And we both know that there was no need for you to tell me about Nikko before taking off in the way that you did unless you wanted me to know something about it."

  "I had a reason for it--"

  "Then tell me what the hell it was."

  He eyed me as if I were holding a blowtorch to the side of my throat as a threat, and sighed. "I'm not willing to drag you even deeper into some other shit with a motherfucker you don't even know."

  "Look around us -- I'm already in too deep! Even if this part doesn't affect me right now like everything else you've ever done, even if I don't know him, there's still the chance that it will hit me somewhere down the line; so start talking to me about it or I walk."

  He swallowed hard before unleashing a wave of air from deep inside his chest, appearing defeated, and straightened his back. "I told you that the shit Nikko pulled is gonna cost me."

  "Why the hell did his father bother himself with trusting you to look out for him in the first place when you can barely look out for yourself?"

  He lifted his eyes directly above my head to stare out the window and clamped his teeth together. "His old man used to do some bookkeeping for the club before investing in a pile of casinos and striking hot with 'em out there in Vegas."

  "And?"

  He blinked a few times before returning to me and lowering his chin. "He knew there was a chance of retaliation from one of the old business partners he had fucked over some years back, Elias Clark; the result being damn near thirty years to life inside. He needed someone on his side that he felt comfortable with."

  "And you were the only one?" I scoffed. "Did Nikko know about the possibility of retaliation against him in the name of his father from this Elias person?"

  "Considering the way shit went down, there ain't a chance in hell he didn't find out at some point."

  "He doesn't think you were involved with any of this though, right?"

  "I don't know."

  "Oh my God, Dad." I brushed a hand across my forehead to keep from throwing it across his face. "Please tell me whether or not you were tipped off because they knew you were the one asked to look out for him?" Gradually, he bobbed his head. "But they messed up in not thinking he would find out and recruit that other one to help him... When were you told about it?"

  "Just before heading in here the first time to see you. I was told when I needed to get up and out and thrown into a tank out back to keep from watching how it all went down. What I know after the fact is all second-hand shit, including from you."

  "What you know is pretty much what we saw."

  "Cheyenne," he started, his voice much harder and more aggressive in tone this time around, "these motherfuckers in here..." He wagged his head. "You give a pair of 'em with power enough of what they want, and anybody can get fucked up at will."

  "If that's the case, what's going to happen to Nikko now? Because there's no way in hell that they're just going to let him walk for what he pulled if it was truly a disrupt to potential retaliation against him in the name of his father. Even if he was able to walk out of the yard on his own, which I'm guessing was for show."

  "Him being able to walk out on his own means that he made a few deals prior to all this shit with a few other guards just like his old man's former partner; which also means he's made a way for himself to remain upright despite a few guaranteed bruises to save face; he might even get that other fucker put out to pasture for this shit -- don't know. But the shit of what happened and why it did will land on my head from his old man 'cause he was supposed to remain clean regardless. It could get him a few more years or transferred out given the extent of bodies being carried outta here, which is what his old man was tryna prevent. But--"

  "What the hell did he do to get thrown in here to begin with?"

  He opened his hands and mumbled, "Ran over the head of some asshole with the back wheel of his own goddamn Hummer."

  "Oh my God." I gasped as a wave of nausea suddenly slamm
ed into me like a mack truck. "Why?"

  He shrugged again in a manner so careless, I began to wonder if he was even human. "I don't know."

  "And you didn't bother to ask?"

  "Fuck no, Cheyenne." He eyed me with a sneer as if I were crazy for even asking myself. "Why would I?"

  "I don't know, to maybe show that you gave something of a damn? Is that person dead too?"

  "What the fuck do you think about it?"

  "I think I can't keep doing this," I told him, wagging my head in defiance as a quick whiff of weed pouring in from the vents above us suddenly filled my lungs; I glanced around at the remaining inmates and visitors and grimaced as they pretended to smell nothing at all. "You getting arrested for theft instead of the club just killing you on the spot like I know they originally wanted is a temporary problem solver at best."

  "That shit was because of Taz."

  "What?" I turned back to him as a question crossed my face, and a tear rippled clear across my heart. "I thought you said this Lena person called the police so you could get picked up and thrown inside before you or the brothers could find her again?"

  "It was the shit I had to tell you as the open ears were on me that first night out here. Couldn't let these assholes know what was really up."

  "Okay, well, why would your VP be the one to suggest Rikers over the death sentence I know your President personally asked for?"

  He sat back from me and glowered while parting his lips to inhale before blowing the air straight out between us. "You sound disappointed as shit that me being locked up was the alternative."

  "I'm not anything but curious about it, and only because I have to be."

  He peered. "Taz said he knew it would put more pressure on you to get the money in a time when there was no way it could be done; motherfucker didn't want you having that burden in knowing what the end result would be."