The Black Sheep, Part 2: Greed (The Seven Deadly Kins #4)

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Confessions of a Charlatan

M y mama told me and my brothers a story one time ’bout secrets. I don’t recall all the particulars, but I know there were five frogs, a river, some lily pads ’nd whatnot, but the moral of the tale was that sometimes a secret can break you in two.

Ain’t that the point of being human too, though? Being two different people inside the same wretched body? Devil on the right shoulder, God on the other? Whispering things in your ears. We make choices based on so many things, and those choices can cause us to make certain moves, say certain things, and behave in expected and unexpected ways—but mainly, we’re creatures of habit. Whatever we learned or endured in our childhoods carries on into our adulthood, until our souls cry out for better. Building walls, bulldozing egos, chasing our own tail and playing games with our minds is what we do in the meantime. We collect broken hearts and fill the fractured nuisances of our own bodies and souls with horseshit.

We run folks out of our lives, then feel hurt when they leave. We let people use and abuse us, then get upset when they do exactly what we allowed them to do. We love to sit there cryin’ over the spilled milk that is really just our own rancid blood, filled with sin, and sold by derelict angels to the highest bidder. God. That’s right. He bought our souls, right? The blood. Many church songs talk about the blood of Jesus. Grandpa talks about the blood all the time, too. Family is his addiction, though he doesn’t understand the true meaning of the word. With one hand, old man Wilde holds his tattered family Bible and with the other, he beats men down with his words, a gold and diamond cane, or a silver bullet to the head.

I imagine God and Satan got more in common than we feel comfortable talkin’ about. Don’t mean that they’re on the same team or even playing the same game, but the more of us mere mortals that find out about the wicked ways in which this here world works—and discover that the Man upstairs is waiting to see who is seeking out puzzle pieces and no longer comfortable in the matrix—the closer we arrive to death.

Simply put, once we have a good portion of this shit called life figured out, it’s time to go. We’ve learned our lessons. I guess that’s one reason, if you’re enjoyin’ life, to stay ignorant, evil, and repulsive in some way. Then, just maybe, you can buy yourself another day to get it right. With the way this world is turnin’ though, it looks like this is the first time God may have been wrong to count on us to do the right thing.

We ain’t much to be dyin’ and sacrificing for, now are we? Human beings are the scum of the gotdamn earth. Don’t be shocked or put off by my righteousness. Let’s be real honest for just a second here.

Just look around you. Look at the crap we do to one another. We won’t even own up to a mistake or apologize for a wrongdoing. The truth is now seen as a lie. A lie is somethin’ to protect. Protection is now perceived as selective: only certain children, women and so on, receive our fortification, and it’s for the days that we feel like being real men and stepping up to the plate. The plate can stay empty for the hungry and poor, ’cause we told them to pull their lazy, dirty, worthless asses up by the bootstraps. We tell bootless and shoeless children to not be violent, but at the same time, hit them with a leather strap, and dare them to cry. I ain’t in the business of telling folks how to raise their kids. I’m just pointing out the hypocrisy of how we raise our families, is all.

Tell them, ‘spare the rod, spoil the child,’ and try to explain that it was for their own good that they were beaten. All that does is instill fear and resentment. On top of that is the psychological abuse. The mistreatment. The good die young, and the young are revered, while the old are humiliated and neglected. Told they are unattractive, soft in the head and useless. We ain’t got to say it—the way we do them says it all. The elderly are taxed to death, we give them scam calls, emails, chain letters with bible scriptures and nasty threats if they don’t mail it to thirty other folks. Remember those? Conditional love. They’re tossed into subpar retirement and nursing homes that take all of their money, but nobody will talk to them, help them to the restroom or give them the time of day to save their life… Our actions show all that needs to be said.

Steal. Kill. At Will. Laugh at others’ misfortune, post it online all for a thrill. We laugh at folks for committing crimes online, not caring about how it affects others and the example we’re setting for younger folk. Everything is a damn joke or no big deal until it happens to us . We’re selfish. We hate goodness and crave things that are degenerate and cruel. Sheep observe. We sit back and watch, all clustered together like clumps of cotton. Those of us that are black sheep perceive even more. We are alone, and we blend in with the pitch black of the night, when everyone else is asleep and not watching… only our eyes visible… and then, we close those eyes so no one can see us, but now, we can’t see nobody else, either…

And I ain’t no better.

I’ve killed men and enjoyed it. I’ve lied and didn’t care. I’ve stolen, and felt it was owed to me. I’ve fucked other men’s women, in their beds, with no regrets. I’ve cheated on ladies that I knew cared for me, and didn’t bat an eye. I’ve envied others, and been jealous, too. I’ve committed just about every single sin written in the Good Book. I’ve allowed greed at times in my life to control me. I know these things about me, and I now can move with purpose. Part of becoming a man is self-awareness. I think that’s what Grandpa hates most about me and my cousins. It seems we’re fully aware of what the fuck he is, and we’re able to see ourselves for what we are, too . We can see our light and our darkness, our deadly sins as kins…

See, when you know yourself, understand yourself completely, it’s harder to fool you. To pull the wool over your eyes. Ain’t no sense in trying to convince a jaguar that it’s a jaguar. It knows this as fact. When someone starts messing with the facts of this world and tellin’ you that those facts are lies, then it’s an uphill battle to know thyself. That’s what Grandpa does. He changes and warps and twists the truth. When people do this, it’s a labor of hatred to manipulate you. KNOW THYSELF. Magic is the same way. My father taught me and my brothers magic tricks, but he never lied and said that the magic was the truth, or that the truth was the magic.

Magic… A trick of the mind and eye. The real magic is the will to believe. Faith. The desire to buy into illusion. I knew myself so well, I secluded myself at times, for my own sanity. This blocked a lot of blessings I suppose. I’m not so certain if God was trying to bless or curse me when this mess with Grandpa erupted. I need to talk to you, Lord…

I’m in deep shit, Heavenly Father. I’m not so egotistical as to believe that you really look after me and all that I do, night and day. I’m not saying that you don’t know every thought in my head and every step I take. I just don’t believe you’re that invested. I think we as people go down some assembly line, and you toss us out into the world like baby birds from a nest. You know how I feel about certain big trees. The point is, I’m in the type of trouble that makes it feel like quicksand is a vacation of sorts, and as I look across my livin’ room observing my woman sittin’ in the middle of floor wearing little of nothin’, with clear containers of jewelry beads, shiny silver and gold string in front of her, and her EarPods jammed in her ears as I work on my computer—us pulling an all-nighter together like the power couple that we are—I realize that I do have more fears than I can fathom…

The latest one is the thought of losing her. I tried to be open with her once I found out that I liked her more than I was ready for. I immediately swung that door open, even though I was concerned and cautious about walking through it. I sat her down and let her know who I am. I tried to tell her the truth about me, the good, the bad, and the greedy. But there was something I didn’t tell her, and you know what that is, Lord. If I tell her the truth, she becomes a witness. A liability. Someone who can wave somethin’ awful over my head. She might hate me after I come clean, too. If I keep it from her, then I’m going against what I promised her: That she could trust me. And trust is every thing.

Trust is big in my book. So much so, I ain’t even realize until a few months ago that I didn’t trust my mama, and it influenced how I saw women as a whole. That was a big, hard pill to swallow. After weeks of inner exploration, I can now admit that it was factual. Almost every relationship I had with a woman, I would start getting suspicious, and then either ghost them or cause so much trouble that they had no choice but to wash their hands of me. I would get emotionally jittery when I’d fall in love. It was because I knew that if they hurt me, it would hurt for a long ass time, and I’d get harder. Colder. More ruthless.

It started with my mama, and it never stopped. Sounds like a ME problem, though. That situation happened a long time ago, but it still cut deep. My mother loves me, and yes, she made her share of mistakes. She made mistakes in her marriage to my father, in her relationship with her children and even with herself, but that woman loves me and my brothers to her core—and some folks can’t say that about their mamas at all. She’s also a nice person. A good person. In today’s world, that’s pure gold. She just had to learn some lessons, and unfortunately, my brothers and I were sometimes in the crosshairs.

I associated what she did with being a woman… seeing her in some way, I suppose, as being weak and not thinkin’ of me, Dakota and Jordan. I hated her for taking my father’s side. I didn’t know how to articulate this until I got older, but I didn’t understand the true damage it caused. I didn’t give women a fair chance, and now, here I am, with a woman who deserves the sun and the entire universe, having to talk myself into something that could destroy my life, and our relationship… but I have to tell her what happened. I have to trust her enough to tell her the WHOLE DAMN TRUTH, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, SO HELP ME GOD…

“Aye baby,” he called out over the music she had probably turned up to full volume. He slowly closed his laptop that was resting on his lap and leaned slightly forward. “Genesis.”

Genesis swayed toward him, rocking on her ass. Her hips shifted, and she met his gaze with those gorgeous maple syrup eyes of hers.

“Yeah, honey?” She removed her pods, holding a bright pink bead between her thumb and forefinger.

“Okay, so, you know that you’re mainly here for us to talk about something that I was going to save for the weekend to discuss with you. You wanted to know tonight, and I get that. I’m prepared to chat about the situation with you now.” He took a deep breath and shifted his laptop onto the couch beside him. The smell of the strawberry and cream candles she’d purchased and lit in his home smelled suddenly sweeter. And rightly so, for what he was about to say was going to have such a visceral reaction from her, release such a horrid stench, that it would require something way stronger to cushion the blow. He closed his eyes, tapped his foot, and ran his hand along his forehead, trying to muster the strength.

“What’s wrong, Roman?”

He opened his eyes, heat spreading through his entire body.

“…So, there’s two things we need to discuss. The first is just me getting confirmation about something from you.”

“Okay.” She set the bead down and scratched her upper arm as her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you need me to confirm?”

“I know you said you wouldn’t speak of it, and you dropped hints about what I had said, too.” His gaze rested on her questioning eyes. “Please tell me exactly what I mumbled on the plane ride to Louisiana?”

She picked the pink bead up without looking at it and rolled it between her fingers. “You said a bunch of disjointed words… phrases, but you—”

“Let’s not dance around this, please.”

“You said that you did somethin’ bad in Vegas a long time ago, and that your grandfather was a wicked man… and there were bits about him findin’ out. You said you started your life over. I tried to put two and two together.” She shrugged.

“What two and two? Tell me what you think I did?”

She slowly turned away, grabbed a piece of gold thread, and with one eye closed, she eased it through the tiny hole. “That you cheated at one of those casinos. You somehow found a way to win big. You didn’t say how you did it, but it was clear that whatever you’d done, it set a lot of things in motion.”

“Okay, so you know. Just like I assumed you did.” He sighed. “That wasn’t delirium talkin’. Or grief. Or craziness. It was the truth. I know you realize it was the truth based on what you said to me at the hospital, but I just needed to hear it from you. I’m not going to ask you anything further about that—don’t want you to incriminate yourself in any kind of way. Just know that the statute of limitations has expired for the crime, but I still will have to face the music, in my own way.”

“What do you mean by that?” She gingerly took a clear bead out of a container and threaded it, too.

“I will have to face the consequences. Now, I’m not going to play any games with you, or make this like it was some great epiphany. That information has fallen into the wrong hands. I have a plan though. My karma may not be legal, but it will be happening. When it does, I don’t know the end result, but you have the right to know.”

“Does that scare you?” Her voice broke with a fracture of fragility.

“I don’t like not knowin’ what’s going on, Genesis.” He shrugged. “What’s hidden and out of sight. It’s caused me to control my environment as much as humanly possible. I control who is in my circle. I control the information I give—my social media is limited, my address is private, I don’t go online usin’ Google, or anything like that, without a VPN. I don’t discuss my private life with most folks, ’cept Tony, my dad, and a couple of my cousins. I’m funny about my money. No one but me knows exactly what I have in what accounts, and where. It’s not that I want to be tightlipped, but the less people know your personal affairs, the better. At least the better for me.” He pointed to himself, glanced at his closed laptop and clasped his fingers, a certain heaviness sitting on his thumping heart.

“I need a sense of wellbeing. One that I’ve created and have complete control over. I need to protect myself and the people I care for.” She nodded in understanding. “I need to know every turn, every corner, every edge of my life so I can navigate it even in the pitch dark. Surprises piss me off.” He leaned forward and grabbed a glass of white wine that he’d been nursing the last two hours. He took a stingy sip. When it swam across his tongue, he noted how different it tasted from just seconds prior. It went from being smooth and delicious to tart and bitter. He surmised it was all in his mind. The flavor of his mood.

“Roman.”

“Yes?”

“But we can’t control and predict everything. There’s other people in this world, and we can’t read their minds or accurately calculate their every move.”

“I don’t want to control and predict everyone else’s world, or their response to my world, baby. I want to shepherd myself, and anyone who I love who flocks around me.” Her opaque eyes displayed a hint of disbelief. “Have you ever heard of the eleven United States Marine Corps leadership principles?”

“No, I haven’t.” She carefully placed her partially constructed bracelet to the side, leaned back on her palms, and crossed her ankles, giving her full attention.

“This is how I live my life. I use these rules to help navigate it. When you grow up without a sense of direction, structure helps immensely. I received that in the Marines. The eleven USMC leadership principles are as follows: Know yourself and seek progress. Secondly, be industrially and strategically capable. Third, know your fellow Marines, and look out for their wellbeing. Fourth, keep your personnel informed. This is the one that I slightly modify for my civilian life. If it can possibly or will for a fact affect the people I love, I tell them. It’s about probabilities for me. Anything over a twenty-five percent probability that any information can affect them in a negative fashion, then I disclose it. That’s why we’re talking right now.”

“Okay. Understood. What are the other ones?” He bet money that she was taking good notes and memorizing everything he was saying. She was far too focused to not be.

“Fifth, set a good example. Sixth, ensure the job or assignment is easily comprehended, managed, and accomplished. Seventh, educate your Marines as a team. Eighth, make thorough and judicious decisions. Ninth, cultivate a sense of accountability between your subsidiaries. Tenth, engage your command within its proficiencies. Lastly, the eleventh principle: seek responsibilities and take responsibility. That’s what I’m doing. Even though it is killin’ me right now. Genesis, my family isn’t normal.”

She slowly got up from the floor, walked over to him, and sat beside him.

“What’s wrong with your family? I mean, you told me about your parents, I know that your brothers are strugglin’ with some things, but nothin’ that’s unheard of. You—”

“If I started from the beginning, we’d be discussing this for hours. What you need to know right now is that my grandfather is a psychopath, in every sense of the word. A lot of psycho-babble phrases are thrown around nowadays, but this is not the case. He really is. He’s a very powerful man—not just with his financial influence, but his ability to manipulate, cause fear, become whoever he needs to be to get his way, and force others to bow and kiss the ring, basically. He’s dangerous. Extremely dangerous.”

Genesis’ face flushed with color, and her eyes turned to slits. He didn’t know if she thought he was lying, or absurd.

“I’m telling you this because we’re involved. We’re a couple.”

“So, you think he wants to hurt me?”

“No. That’s the only good part about this, if you even want to call it that. He usually doesn’t hurt women.” He ran his hands down his face. Each time he opened his mouth, the worse and more bizarre it all sounded.

He took several deep breaths, got back on track, and started over. “Genesis.” He took her hand in his, looking her dead in the eye. “Some time ago I was at an important business dinner with my colleagues. My grandfather was there, and it was no coincidence. It was to let me know that he could show up, and know my schedule whenever he wished, but also another attempt to control me. I became upset and choked the shit out of him.”

“You did what ?!”

“I put my hands around his chicken-skinned neck and squeezed the fuck out of it,” he said between gritted teeth, though a part of him flooded with comforting warmth as he replayed the image in his mind. “I wasn’t going to kill him—only to warn him, the way he was tryna warn me.”

“Why?! Why would you do such a thing, Roman? Psychopath or not, I can’t understand this.”

“My grandfather wants me to work for him. Do illegal things to help him gain more money and get the upper hand. This serves two purposes. It keeps me in the family business, and in line, while he gets riches and control. Insider trading. Illegal shit—think Martha Stewart times ten. Prison is a definite if I’m busted, and for the rest of my life, he could dangle this over my head, while escaping blame and consequence himself. I refused. He’s been harassing me and six of my other cousins who declined to join his company in different capacities, too. He selected us as children. Watched us grow, and nurtured the parts of us he thought could serve him when we became adults.

“Exploitation at its finest.”

“Exactly. We’ve been threatened with physical violence. We’ve been threatened with trumped up jail and prison sentences. We’ve been threatened with the loss of our careers and livelihood, or some sort of major public humiliation. He even sent one of our brain-dead younger cousins to try and intimidate my cousin’s then girlfriend, now wife, but it didn’t work and now—”

“Whoa… whoa… whoa…” Her eyes doubled in size. “What do you mean, intimidate?”

“I mean exactly what the word says. He basically told her to leave my cousin alone, and he’d pay her off for her time and trouble, but if she didn’t back off, he’d make their relationship uncomfortable. This happened to my older cousin, Lennox, and his wife, Nadia.”

“But you just said he doesn’t usually mess with women.”

“Usually being the operative word. It was probably just a bloated threat, but it happened nonetheless.”

She slipped her hand away from his grasp, and fell back against the couch, sighing as if exhausted. They were quiet for a few seconds, though it felt like hours.

“I’m going to lose you, aren’t I?” His stomach clenched tight.

Her eyes hooded, and a sullen smile creased her beautiful face.

“No.” She shook her head and stroked his cheek. He fell into her touch. “You make me feel amazing! This is the best relationship I’ve ever had.” Her eyes sheened, and she blinked the emotion away. “Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”

“I don’t want you to have to fight. Let me worry about that.” He kissed her forehead, then her lips.

“Roman, the thing about me is, I need for things to make sense before I make major decisions. I need to see somethin’ in action—the bits and pieces of it, the workin’ inner parts. Leaving you doesn’t make sense. Not even knowin’ this about the volatile relationship between you and your grandfather, and what you did years before you even met me, at that casino, changes nothing. You were a different person then. You know it was wrong; I don’t have to tell you that. You also know that you’ll need to do whatever is necessary to keep your integrity, and yourself safe from harm regarding this entire situation.

“It’s a mess. I ain’t gonna lie. It does make me feel uneasy, but I also know that I love you deeply.” Her breaths were shallow, fast. “I know that you love me, and we’ve got something special.” A tear trailed her cheek, but she smiled through it. “I also know that I refuse to allow someone to easily scare me off. We’re a blessing to one another. I’ve waited so long to meet someone like you, and just when I was resigned to being single forever, you came into my life. Neither of us were looking for love, but we found it. You can do the fighting, but I’m one step behind you. Boxing gloves on.” She reached for him, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed.

They sat together on the couch, huddled in an embrace. A tight knot in his throat begged for release. He groaned into her hair as he squeezed her to him, then ushered her down onto the ground, not far from the flickering flames of the fireplace. Her declarations still hung in the air between them, fresh, real and raw. She reached out, her fingertips sweeping the sharpness of his jaw, drawing his eyes to hers.

“You don’t have to deal with this all by yourself,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. His gaze searched hers for something—allegiance to him, forgiveness for what pain she may experience on account of loving him, maybe both.

“Genesis, if I lose you because of him, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m going to make this right. I promise.”

“You won’t lose me, and I know that you will. I’m here. Today and tomorrow,” she promised as he lay on top of her.

Her skimpy underwear and his pajama pants rubbed against one another as he found his place between her thick, warm thighs. Their breaths combined, shallow and imbalanced, the space amongst them electric with something unspoken yet undeniable. She kissed him with a soft, feathery touch of her lips. He exhaled, releasing all the worries he’d carried for far too long. Cupping the back of her head, feeling her soft tresses, he deepened the kiss with a craving that screamed of releasing desolation and claiming liberation. The world outside of the one they’d built together faded away. She removed her garments, and he did the same, their mouths practically glued together as they frantically disrobed.

The peril of the situation that loomed ahead, the fear that he knew without her admission clung to her heart—they were concealed by the heat of his body against hers, the way his hands roamed her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. He traced his lips down her cheek and chin, unhurried and measured, kindling a tremble that flowed through him as he touched her skin. She clung to him, fingers twisting in his hair.

“I need you, Genesis. You have no idea how in love I am with you, and how much I need your body right now,” he stated, his voice husky but edged with tenderness.

She guided his hands to her breasts, her gaze never leaving his.

“And I’m here, all yours.”

The passion between them swelled, their carnal travels and desires both vital and dawdling, a tango of combined vulnerability and need.

He squeezed her breasts as he lavished them with abundant kisses and flicks of his tongue. Glossy from his hunger for her, her nipple invited him to suck. His erection grew each time he dared to taste her sweet flesh. He voyaged down her silky body, then paused to look into her eyes as he needily shoved her legs apart. His tongue braced between the glossy lips of her garden as he shepherded her clit out of hiding. She moaned and arched into his temple as he licked and sucked her life away.

Every touch of skin, every sigh of ecstasy, every whispered dirty word was a vow—a way of declaring this striking instant of mutual comfort during pure pandemonium. When she reached her orgasm and released her liquid pleasure along his tongue, he was gratified. They lay entangled, their gasps and pants slowing down in harmony. Locked eyes, nursing an intense need to die and be born again within her, he entered her with a sharp jab. She screamed his name and broke the skin of his bare back with her nails, shaking beneath him as his demanding thrusts became more ruthless by the second.

His needy plunges forced her body to propel upwards then descend, over and over again. They never once looked away from one another as he had his way with her. Her eyes glossed over, but she shut them fast, although not before a solitary tear rolled out and moistened her cheek. Pressing his face in the small of her neck, he wrapped himself around her as he pounded her pussy. His grunts and moans echoed in his ears, and in the room as he slammed into her, his teeth sinking into his tongue. He tried to control himself, to no avail.

He quickly jerked his dick out of her. It was slick with her juices as he turned her onto her side and entered her once again, lifting her leg to make his entrance smoother. They were face to face once again, their foreheads practically touching as he anchored himself, plunging upwards inside of her, brushing against her clit at each pass. She orgasmed once again, and he maintained his pace. He slipped his tongue in her mouth, kissing her with the flavor of her love, hoping she loved it as much as he did.

He faded within himself, and she must’ve seen him disappearing for she offered an all-knowing smile. After emitting a loud grunt, he felt his climax a mere moment away. And then it arrived. He dropped her leg, seized her ass with both hands, forcing her into his short, fast jabs, and let his essence flow into her pussy.

Then they rested in each other’s arms, breathing hard and smiling at one another. He fell onto his back, and she put her head on his chest. He looked down at her, feeling so damn protective. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

We’re in this together, but I’m not involving you, baby. Just wait on the sidelines. I’ve got this.

He kissed her temple. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, Genesis, but thank you for everything. I’m never going to let anyone hurt you. Ever. You’ve not only been my girlfriend, my therapist, and my lover—you’ve been my friend. You just know how to handle me, and you get what I need, when I need it. I promise you that I’d risk my life for you and not think twice about it.”

“The only way to fight hatred is with love, and the only way to be loved is to be open and believe you deserve it. It may not be easy, but you’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Her fingers traced lazy patterns all along his chest. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to believe that he, in fact, deserved this amazing woman, and he undoubtedly deserved to be loved…