Falling For Rome Page 3

  “You belong to me.”

  Nakhti

  My mask slipped just a bit and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. I had been here before. Men flirted with me often, they tried to pick me up, it was my job to engage in these kinds of conversations with them to get them to let down their guard and let me in just long enough to get my mission complete.

  Yet, it was something about his threat that felt different. His amber gaze held so many mystery’s and yes, so much wisdom. What did he know? Did it matter? He reminded me of a book I read once while I was on a mission in Ethiopia, I can’t remember the name of it. But in it Queen Makeda, the Queen of Sheba describes what it was like meeting the great wise King Solomon.

  She said his wisdom was like nothing she had ever encountered. And although he was extremely handsome, it was his wisdom that attracted her. I’d imagine that Rome was a descendant of the great king. He was seriously giving off those kinds of vibes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a couple of steps ahead of me. This was a feeling I was not used to; I was always ahead of my marks.

  Get it together Nak, you cannot let this young man unravel you. You have been here before. He’s no different than any other mark. Do your job and get out. The quicker you get it done the better. And then you’ll be a ghost.

  I cleared my throat.

  “As absurd as your words are, Mr. Reevers, I’m going to agree, because I have nothing to hide. I’ve come to do exactly what I’ve stated. Nothing more, nothing less.” The smile that came over his face sent chills down my spine.

  “Wonderful, then it’s sealed.” He stood. “Come, let me give you a tour of the place.”

  ********

  Rome was taking me to meet his mom. He had given me a thorough tour of the building, explaining to me that he owned it and rented out apartments mostly to his boys, except for the apartment for his mom and little brother.

  As we passed the said boys, they all spoke to him as if he was their king.

  “Hey Rome, what up?” Or, “What up, Rome, everything good?” After which they would shake up in a fashion that showed they viewed each other as brothers. He was surrounded by his soldiers, men that were so loyal to him that if he told them to put a bullet in my head, they would with no hesitation.

  When I asked him what it was he did, he chuckled.

  “You know… a little bit of this, a little of that.” I nodded.

  “My report says you’re a drug dealer.”

  “Oh yeah? And where did you get your report from?”

  “Why, Mr. Warren of course.”

  “Hmm,” was his only response.

  “You seem like a pretty smart man. Why would you have drugs in your mother’s apartment? It’s common knowledge that drug dealers don’t keep their product where they or their loved ones rest their heads. It almost seems as if you were using them to distract the FBI agents. Is that the case?”

  He chuckled again. “Actually, they were my little brother’s drugs, it was his room. I was simply trying to help him get rid of his product.”

  “Were you nervous or something? Because my report says you spilled quite a few of them, which kind of defeats the purpose of you getting rid of them.”

  “You asking an awful lot of questions, is this all a part of your job?” He held up air quotes when he said that.

  “Quite naturally, I need to know what kind of behavior it is I have to keep you from.” He came to a stop then and turned to face me so suddenly I gasped. We had just walked into the stairwell, so we were alone.

  “Do you really believe you will be able to keep me from any of my behaviors?” he asked walking towards me. I took a few steps back, but was forced to stop when my back came up against the door. He cornered me in then, blocking off the rest of the view with his big body, putting his hand on the door by my head.

  As his amber gaze raked over my face, I lifted an eyebrow. I could drop him right now. I won’t, but I could. I smiled.

  “Mr. Reevers, it seems you’re quite good at deflecting.”

  “Rome,” he corrected.

  “Romeo,” I insisted. He grinned as he ate me up with that gaze of his.

  “What’s your name?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “I told you my name, Brenda Bonita,” I responded just as quietly.

  His gaze lowered to my lips and the look in his eyes turned to one of want. He wanted to kiss me. Sometimes I allowed kissing to let a mark feel as if I was into him, but I didn’t think I would with Romeo here. I had a feeling that if I let him kiss me, I will feel something too. And that was a no no while in the field.

  He grinned as if he could read my mind. “The up and up. A deal is a deal. Come, let me introduce you to another woman that insists on calling me Romeo.” He turned then and walked up the stairs. For a moment I just stood and took in his bow-legged swagger.

  Goodness! I need to complete this assignment as soon as possible. This man was dangerous to my well-being.

  “And who is this beautiful young lady?” Mrs. Reevers asked as I eased down on her couch. I sat my briefcase on her coffee table planting a bug as I did. At the same time, I looked around at her beautiful apartment amazed at all the healthy plants that were everywhere.

  “This is…” Rome left off on saying my name leaving me to fill in the blank.

  “Brenda Bonita,” I told her. She smiled warmly at me. Rome’s mother was beautiful. I see where he got his amber eyes.

  “Nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Ms. Bonita was hired by Jo to be my babysitter.” Rome told her as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  “Ma, can you keep an eye on her for me? I have to make a run.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Before I could say anything, he was gone out the front door. The bastard had just pawned me off on his mother. But this was good, my bugs were set, I didn’t really need him anymore. I can take this time to get a little background information. Nothing mamas like to talk about more than their babies.

  Well, everybody’s mama, but mine. If mine said anything, it would be to speak about how I could never add up to the boy my father wanted. No matter how many awards I won or how many hurdles I jumped, it could never add up. It wasn’t enough to keep him home with us.

  “Can I get you anything to eat or drink? I put some black-eyed peas on earlier with a smoked turkey part. Will you have a bowl?”

  Ahhh! So that’s what smelled so good. Right then my stomach growled, the last meal I had was a MRE in transit to my next assignment. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal. I think I may have been a small child in Brazil, before my avozinha passed away, while my mother chased after my father. It was my avô, my mother’s mother that made sure I was fed properly and loved. But she died when I was eight, and the little love I received died with her.

  “I would love some black-eyed peas,” I told Mrs. Reevers getting up to follow her into the kitchen. “Your apartment is beautiful. The plants are magnificent.”

  “Thank you, I have my daughter Journey to thank for that. Once she started studying the science of plants, she took something as simple as having a few house plants to another level.”

  I sat on the stool at the counter as she slid a steaming bowl of smelling goodness in front of me. I had never eaten black-eyed peas before, but they smelled heavenly. Picking up the salt shaker I sprinkled a good amount on my food.

  “Do you want to taste it first, I put a good amount of seasoning in my food.” She asked frowning at the salt shaker that was still in my hands.

  “Sorry about that, I like a lot of salt.”

  After blowing on my spoonful, I made to put it in my mouth, but Mrs. Reevers stopped me.

  “Sweetheart, we thank the Heavenly Father for our food before we eat it.” Feeling slightly embarrassed for getting caught being a savage, I lowered my spoon.

  “Sorry, of course
you’re right.” Bowing my head, I said a few words of thanks before my eyes opened and I went for my spoon, but Mrs. Reevers head was still bowed and her eyes still closed.

  Ooookay… I closed my eyes again.

  “Dear Heavenly Father,” she began. “We come before you to say thank you for this meal. And thank you for bringing Ms. Bonita to us. We pray that you allow this meal to nourish her body and her heart.”

  As she continued, I thought about her words. Could a meal nourish my heart? Could black-eyed peas fill the hole that has always been there? If only her words were true and this simple bowl of peas could fix all that was wrong with me.

  Surprisingly, I felt the burning of tears behind my eye lids.

  “We also pray today that you allow your will to be done. And that you touch us all with your healing hands. We need you now Father more than any time before. Your people need you now. In the mighty name of Yahusha Ha Mashiach. Selah.” She lifted her head and smiled at me. I returned her smile.

  “You said the last of your prayer in Hebrew.” I recognized the language from my time in the Middle East.

  She blushed, pleased I had noticed her accomplishment. “I’ve been trying to learn a second language. Thank you for noticing.”

  All thoughts fled my mind as the heavenly taste of the peas exploded with flavor against my tongue. I take that back; this bowl of peas just may be food for my soul.

  “This is very good,” I told her. She smiled.

  “Thank you, honey. You want some Kool-Aid? My son Rob makes it, and he put’s way to much sugar in it, but it’s still pretty good.” I nodded. She had me at way too much sugar.

  “It’s the red kind,” she said like I was supposed to understand the significance of that. I nodded in agreement having to bite the side of my cheek to keep from grinning. I think Mrs. Reevers thought that I was an African- American instead of an African-Brazilian. I wondered what she would do if I started speaking Portuguese to her.

  “You know, I’m kind of glad Jo did what he did.” I looked up from my bowl surprised. Wow! Didn’t think the information was going to come this easily. I thought I was going to have to pry it out of her.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well first, I’m glad he came back into Journey’s life. Ayana need her daddy. And now he’s forcing Romeo to clean up his act. My son is so strong willed. Once he makes up his mind that he’s going to do something, there ain’t much you can do to stop him.” I nodded encouraging her to continue as I finished my bowl of peas and smoked turkey part.

  “You see, my husband died when my children were younger, he was the breadwinner for the family.” She looked at me hesitantly. “A progressive woman like yourself, probably think it was wrong of me to want to stay home with my children.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. It’s your right. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be a stay-at-home mom.”

  I wish my mother had invested even a quarter of the time in me that you had in your children. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so worthless.

  She patted my hand. “Mamas are only human, baby.”

  My eyes widened, startled at her statement. How did she—?

  “Anyway, after my husband died. I had to go out there and get a job to support us.” She continued. “But because I didn’t have no education, the only thing I could do was go up north and clean a few rich folk houses. It was tough and I was barely making enough money to pay our mortgage and keep a little ration on the table.” She patted her head.

  “Child, them folks was coming to the house cutting the lights and the gas off nearly every other month. My baby Romeo who at the time I think was twelve or thirteen came in my room one night and saw me crying. He has a giving heart, just like his daddy. He hugged me and told me everything was going to be alright. Next morning, he was gone.” She shook her head.

  “You talk about nearly having a heart attack. I called the police and I bundled up my two youngest children and hit the street looking for him. I had just lost Romeo Sr. and I couldn’t lose nobody else. We was all we had left.” I drank my cup of Kool-Aid down in one pop; it was delicious.

  “Would you like some more, honey?” Mrs. Reevers asked when she saw that I had tilted the cup up for the last drop. I smiled.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Anyway, Romeo shows back up a week later with enough money to not only pay our mortgage and bills for that month, but the next one after that.” She continued as she poured my drink.

  “Wow! Where did he get the money?” She shook her head.

  “I always thought he was dealing drugs, which broke my heart ‘cause he dropped out of school. Do you know that them folks tested him and said he tested in at a genius level? He was getting all kinds of letters in the mail from schools around the world. I don’t know how Sr. and I produced a genius, but we did. In fact, we produced three. Here, let me show you something.” She disappeared in her room before she came back out holding a big sketched picture. When she turned it around and showed me, I gasped.

  “It’s amazing!” I told her. The picture was of a young beautiful girl with long locs, resting her chin against the back of her hands as she gazed out the window looking at a tree with falling leaves. The artist had managed to catch the girl’s love for what she was seeing in her eyes.

  “It’s a picture of my daughter Journey. My youngest son Rob sketched it.” She was right, he was a prodigy. This picture could be in any art gallery in the world and would bring in a hefty sum.

  “And look.” She went over to her plants. “All my life I’ve kept house plants. Journey’s love for them came from me. But look at what she’s done with them. She studies the soil and feed the little bugs in the soil certain things. Then the bugs poop and make the plant stronger or something like that…” She waved that away.

  “Of course my daughter uses the scientific language for that process. When I asked her to make it simple for the simple, that’s what she told me.” I nodded as I finished off my Kool-Aid.

  “Do you mind?” I asked her gesturing toward the pitcher that she left sitting on the counter.

  She nodded. “No, go right ahead. Although I don’t think drinking all that sugar is good for you.”

  Pouring another cup, I smiled at her. “Hey, got to die from something.” I chuckled at my own joke, but when I saw that she didn’t see the humor in it, I cleared my throat.

  “You have truly been blessed to have three amazing children,” I said to get her talking again.

  She sighed. “That’s what I thought too, but sometimes Romeo scares me.”

  “Oh?” I asked my ears perking up. “How so?”

  “Folks around here treat him like he some kind of god. It seems like the whole neighborhood depend on him to function. Everybody from Laraine’s Corner Store to Mr. Tommy’s Hardware. They say it’s ‘cause of him this the only area in Chicago where the mom and pop stores have not gone under.” She eased down on the couch looking sad.

  Now good and full, I took my bowl and cup to the sink and after washing them, joined her on the couch.

  “I just fear that all those responsibilities have forced him to do some bad things.” I picked up her hand giving it a comforting squeeze. This day had taken a strange turn. First the black-eyed peas with the smoked turkey part, the prayer, the Kool-Aid, and now I found myself sitting here trying to comfort this stranger.

  Whenever you are in the field, you need to be adaptable. It was no telling what kind of situation you would find yourself in, you needed to blend. But that was not why I was comforting this woman. I did it because she was good. In my line of work, I meet a bunch of sh*tty people, the scum of the planet earth. But not this woman, she was good.

  “Mrs. Reevers, why are you telling me all this?” I asked, not being able to help being a little curious. She had just met me and she had given me a quick rundown on her family as if she needed to explain why things were the way they were. She blinked at me as
if it was quite obvious.

  “Well, because…Romeo has never brought a lady friend to meet me before. Never, not even once.”

  Chapter 3

  The Educated Thug

  Our experts warned us about

  the possibility of this phenomenon occurring, for they say that the slave’s mind has a strong drive to correct and re-correct itself

  over a period of time if it can touch some substantial original historical base…

  --Willie Lynch

  Rome

  I control everything that happens in my hood, from every loaf of bread sold to every bag of weed, from who buys a house in this area to who attends the neighborhood public school. Eighty-one blocks of the 24thWard is mine. Inside my blocks are Four Corner Hustlers, GDs, BDs and Vice Lords.

  People wondered at how I was able to keep the peace with four rival gangs all living and working in the same area. It was simple, all four of their chiefs answered to me. I did not deal with their men directly. If it was beef, their chiefs brought it to me and I solved it the way I saw fit.

  It is my alderman representing in the city council and my mayor sitting in City Hall. The police officers that patrolled my streets were also on my payroll.

  Now I know you say…

  Damn Rome, how a hood nigga like you get a hold of so much power within the land of your captivity. And my answer is simple… I’ve discovered a few unpretentious truths. Truths that if my people discovered, would set them free.

  One…

  I am not nor have ever been a nigga. To simplify my existence in such a way is contemptuous. You see, me and my people are far more complex than that. The powers that be know exactly how much so, but they’ll never tell you that.

  Two…

  The trick is to resist greed. By doing that, I’m allowed to work with certain amenities. Greed has been the downfall of many great sovereignties throughout history. In fact, in all my studies, I have never found one that didn’t fall because of it.