Chapter 11 #6
I turned my head fully then and glared at him long enough to make him realize how dumb his last question was. Then I returned my focus back to the window, watching the rain trail slow patterns against the glass, mirroring the turmoil of my thoughts.
“None of that… especially the last part. I want you to be my officiant.”
“Oh! Well, we didn’t need an actual meeting for that,” he said, his tone too damn chipper for the weight of what was about to be asked. “I’d love to. I must ask—who’s the lucky lady?”
I finally gave him my undivided attention. My stare sliced through his excitement.
“This won’t be a normal or romantic proceeding,” I stated flatly, cutting the mood in half. “The marriage will be one more of… convenience.”
That word alone had his face falling like a curtain call.
“O-Okay! Confidentiality is part of the?—”
“No!” I snapped, taking a slow step closer.
“See, confidentiality is for lawyers and doctors. This marriage is never to get spoken of to the public—unless I’m the one doing the speaking.
So this isn’t to be mentioned in one of your sermons, barbershop gossip, one of your drunken stories with your poker crew, and sure as hell not in some bedtime tale to your grandkids about the ‘strangest wedding’ you ever officiated.
Whatever happens on that day, dies with that day. You understand?”
“I… I guess.”
I snickered. “You guess?”
I placed a manila folder on the desk and slid it toward him.
Inside was a photograph of the reverend’s wife walking their dog. Another one was of his son exiting school. The final one—blurry, but unmistakable—of the reverend himself speaking to police during an old neighborhood drug raid.
He stared down at the images, his face paling by the second.
“You’ve… done your homework,” he whispered.
“I don’t assign tasks I don’t already know the answers to,” I quipped.
“Now here’s what’s going to happen. In a few days, you’ll meet me at a private location.
Spur of the moment? Yes. And you won’t ask why.
My driver will pick you up—no questions, no delays.
You won’t know the location we’ll be at because you’ll be blindfolded to and from the destination. ”
He opened his mouth, but I kept going.
“You will marry me and the woman standing beside me. No extra words. No small talk. You will not ask her questions. You will not look at her funny when she twitches or blurts something out crazy. Be prepared for her to cuss you out… maybe. You will act like it’s the most normal thing you’ve ever seen in your church life. ”
His lips parted, but I cut him a look that locked his throat.
“There will be one set of paperwork—legit and final—and it will be signed on the day. No copies. I keep the original. That means no trails, no backups, no ‘accidents’ at the courthouse.”
I leaned in, voice low and final.
“And when it’s done…” I said, rising to my full height, “You’ll forget you ever laid eyes on either of us.
You don’t so much as hum a hymn about it afterward.
You’ll go back to baptizing sinners and babies, blessing bread, and preaching watered-down sermons that keep your lights on.
And you’ll pray— every damn night —that I never have a reason to contact you again. ”
“This… this isn’t legal,” the reverend stammered, his voice cracking like old wood.
Bold of him, really . Audacious , considering everything I’d just laid out.
I took a slow step toward him. My smile was small… dangerous.
“It is if I say it is. But neither was that cash donation your church received last year from a shell company tied to a liquor front. Want to test how far ‘legal’ can stretch today, Reverend?” I asked calmly, my eyes never leaving his.
His eyes were wide with astonishment and fear.
“I didn’t think so. I also didn’t come here to discuss law; I came here to discuss obedience… quiet obedience.”
A silence settled so thick the clock on the wall sounded like thunder with every tick.
“Now,” I continued, buttoning my blazer slowly, “you will perform this ceremony. You will keep your mouth shut. And you will walk away like none of this ever happened.”
“Wh-Why me?” he stammered.
I scoffed lightly. “Why you? Clearly, I chose you because you’ve done a little…
scratch that… a lot of dirt before. That backdoor baptism you did for a cartel member’s kid?
Yeah. I know about that too. Word travels.
With all the shady shit you’ve done, I figured you wouldn’t mind adding a little ‘off-the-record’ knot-tying to your resume. ”
“I—I didn’t have a choice back then!”
“You don’t now either.”
Silence again. A car passed outside. Somewhere, a clock ticked.
“Besides, all you’re doing is marrying me and my…
” I paused, trying to find the right word to describe Naji.
“Fiery fiancée. This is something you’ve done a hundred times before.
How hard could that be? You’re acting like I’m asking you to bury a body with me.
” I chuckled, the sound low and humorless.
“Forgive me if I say this doesn’t feel all that different,” he said.
“It’s just a little secrecy, Reverend; that ain’t never hurt nobody… unless they couldn’t keep it. You keep it quiet, it’s a blessing. You open your mouth? Well… let’s just say we both know not all sins get washed away with holy water.”
Reverend Ellis let out a strangled breath. “Oh, God! Again, why me?! I’m just a man of God!” he whimpered, hands trembling at his sides.
“We’ve already been over this, and I don’t like repeating myself. And you’re a man of opportunity ,” I corrected. “You also know how to keep your hands dirty without ever staining your robes.”
His lips parted like he wanted to object, but nothing came out except a shaky exhale.
“So, I’ll ask one more time,” I said, eyes never leaving his. “Do we have a deal?”
Reverend Ellis nodded stiffly, his expression tight, lips pressed into a thin line.
“I’ll… I’ll do it.”
“I never doubted you wouldn’t. ” I grinned. “Although I’m surprised it took this long. From what I heard, you usually fold quicker than that. Before I go, let me leave you with this last and final warning.”
I circled him slowly, the soles of my shoes quiet against the floor.
“I promise you… and I can’t stress this enough; if my soon-to-be wife’s name gets out, if a photo or rumor of our marriage leaks, if a bird so much as chirps the wrong name—hell, if I hear a sermon that even rhymes with what’s about to happen—I will send someone to silence it… well, you. ”
I stepped forward and leaned in just slightly, my voice now a quiet threat dipped in velvet.
“And if you think I’m bluffing, check the obituaries from last June. Look for a nigga by the name Tedrick Hollis and how he just… vanished. That was all me,” I confessed.
At least I was in the right place to get my confessions out.
Reverend Ellis went rigid.
“Are we getting somewhere?”
“Y-Yes! I—I understand completely! I won’t say anything… to anyone! I promise! No questions! No witnesses! No records! I’ll make it look like it never happened!”
I stepped back, satisfied.
“Good!”
I reached into my coat and pulled out a thick envelope.
Cash… enough to secure loyalty… or silence.
“But just in case your memory needs help staying gone,” I added, placing the envelope into his shaky hands, “I already have a man watching your wife, your son, and your church secretary. You know... insurance.”
He nodded, nearly collapsing under the weight of it all.
“Good day, Reverend.”
I patted his shoulder, then turned my back without another word, stepping into the shadows.
See, when a man like me says “forever,” it doesn’t just apply to vows. Because my forever? It’s the type that would haunt a person’s bloodline.