Chapter 1
ONE
My forehead creased as weariness parted my eyelids. Darkness penetrated every inch of the open floorplan. The city’s lights served as the secondary background, hardly glistening in the distance because of my level of elevation.
Slowly, I pulled my body from the breathable fabric of the cooling sheets. My feet touched the floor, sending a chill up my spine. I rotated my shoulders, working out the kinks that stillness resulted in each morning. Instinctively, I searched for the glowing numbers on the nightstand.
I shuffled my feet, moving them from one side to the other, until I located the black slides used to transport me from one part of my condominium to the other. The idea of bare feet on the floor was repulsive.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Just as I slid into the shoes, my cell vibrated. I peered at the nightstand. Uncertainty pumped my heart three miles a minute.
Nothing good ever came from a call at this hour. Not even pussy.
I pushed out a nervous breath as I leaned forward and wrapped my hands around my cell.
My mother’s call was one I dreaded in the wee hours.
With Indigo still knee deep in the trenches, I loathed the day I’d hear my mother cry on the line while trying to explain how gruesome it was seeing his brain matter on the pavement.
Even the thought of someone bringing harm to the boy I’d helped raise into a man was gutting. I mourned my career whenever it crossed my mind. Because, Berkeley would bleed. And, Berkeley would bleed uncontrollably. My freedom would be revoked and the light of day would hardly see me.
Unknown.
I rubbed my eyes, taking another look at the screen. Nothing changed. Unknown was still planted there for me to see. For me to acknowledge. For me to wonder.
I decided not to do either and silenced the call instead. My legs stretched as my arms reached for the ceiling. I was up on my feet and headed for my think tank. Sleep wouldn’t find me again. Not any time soon, anyway.
My feet spread shoulder width apart. My right hand leaned against the metal connecting the glass of my floor to ceiling windows. My left hand tugged at the hair on my chin. Deep thought forced me to stare aimlessly out into the darkness.
Berkeley’s skyline was impeccable, but all a blur. Most times it was when I stood in this very same spot at an ungodly hour like this one. My alarm was set for five thirty. Though only about sixty minutes away, it wasn’t four in the fucking morning.
My chest swelled with disappointment. The time of the morning was a distraction. It was something to blame other than myself for the depths of my frustrations.
“Should’ve fucking known.”
The whispers echoed in the silence. Their accuracy penetrated my bones with despondency.
Should’ve fucking known that ni–
I shook my head as the incomplete thought turned over and a new one began developing. The journey to Clarke was well-planned and poorly executed. Not on my part, but that didn’t change the circumstances.
I flexed the muscles in my back as my muscles began to tighten. My heart was heavy but my head was heavier.
Because you knew better. I chastised.
I’d waited for the same man to show his face for thirty-two years. Thinking anything would change after a few phone calls and a text thread we visited every few weeks was reckless of me.
The lies.
One after the other, they tumbled from the lips of my sperm donor.
But, still, I found myself questioning why.
It was pointless. So was the deep yearning I suffered every time I accomplished something extreme or was on the verge of it.
Somehow, I became vulnerable and open to receiving love from a man who never truly loved me before.
He put three sons in my mother’s womb and left her to birth the last one alone. Indigo was the youngest of us all. Isaías was the second.
Neither of them were aware of my plans to visit Clarke. Neither one of them were aware of my plans to meet up with Pops. And, neither of them were aware that he didn’t show. But, the last bit was more believable than the others.
Absence had become a character trait of his. Optimism was one of mine. Together they crashed and burned, leaving me in the dark hotel room of a stranger with a splitting headache and drunken thoughts.
A beautiful stranger. I recalled.
Much of the night was a blur, but she was far from it. Her presence was magnifying. It enhanced every part of me.
I wonder if she knows she has superpowers?
I shook the question from my thoughts and unlocked my phone. My erection gradually stiffened and threatened to squeeze through the fabric of my briefs.
Asia.
Her image flashed in my head, provoking me with nudity. She was the perfect candidate to deflate my dick. It didn’t matter the time. With certainty, she’d come.
And cum.
And cum again.
Her complex was a few feet away. It was the sister property to Morehouse, the condominiums built for ownership. She lived in The Evermore, the apartments built for short or long term renting.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Asia slipped my mind as my forehead wrinkled with lines. Bemused by the unknown caller again, I stared at my vibrating phone.
Who the fuck is calling me at this hour?
I turned away from the window and headed for the kitchen. The lone glass on the counter was in my right hand within seconds. I pushed it against the dispenser. Cold, filtered water began to fill the glass.
“Yeah?” I answered.
The call was on the verge of rolling over to voicemail. This time, I didn’t plan to miss it.
“Good morning, Mr. Mayor.”
I felt my eyebrows attempt to center on my face, pulling inward and downward. Not only was the prediction unprovoked, but the voice was unfamiliar.
Bullshit is to follow.
The polls wouldn’t be open for nearly ninety days.
I still had an uphill battle. And, nearly every rich, prestigious motherfucker in Berkeley was waiting on my demise.
They wanted this boy from the projects to prove his worthiness of their mayoral vote in spite of my credentials and the work I’d put in to get my name on that ballot.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m privy to your extra curricular activities.” The caller chuckled. “Admittedly, I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing but I don’t blame you.”
“Say what the fuck you mean or get the fuck off my line.”
I was prepared to end the call as much as I was prepared to find out who was behind it. Within an hour of my discovery, they’d take their last breath. I was certain because it would be me who squeezed the life out of them.
Ish. Chill.
I reminded myself how far I’d come, but in the same breath I was reminded how far I’d go.
“No need to get your briefs in a bunch. I’ve paid for a little pussy, too. There’s no judgement on my end, but I can’t say that for the voters of Berk–”
“Pussy is the only meal I will never pay for. You have me confused.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I ended the call, hating that I’d answered it despite my apprehension. I tossed my cell on the counter and sniggered with disgust. The audacious claim made my chest inflate with air.
“Paying for pussy,” I tittered, “Nigga.”
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
I snatched the phone from the counter, answering on the second ring.
“Speak.”
“You’ll find something interesting in your email. Goodbye, Mr. Mayor.”
The dull, distorted voice riddled my conscience with uncertainty, confusion, and chaos. I ended the call for the second time. Only this time, I didn’t place my cell on the counter, I opened my mail app, expecting an email from the person adamant to ruin a day that had barely gotten started.
Nothing.
I scrolled for thirty seconds. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I made a mental note to reply to Julie’s email about my itinerary and wardrobe as I exited the application.
Water raced down my throat, attempting to cool the heat growing inside of me. Its efforts were in vain. I returned to the window seal. This time, Berkeley wasn’t a blur. Everything was crystal clear.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The five-thirty alarm sounded. Without urgency, I moved to shut it off. I lowered my body onto the bed as I realized how long I’d been standing.
Staring.
Stalking the sun’s rising.
I ran a hand down my face, still trying to make sense of the call I’d received.
You’ll find something interesting in your email. Those words rang out for the twelfth time in my head.
Loud.
Disturbing.
Thunderous.
Disruptive.
Loaded.
My nervous system remained tactless.
A prank call?
This didn’t feel like a joke. Neither did it feel staged. Something was brewing. Something sinister had been planted in my path and before I stepped foot in my office this morning, I needed to find out what it was and who was behind it.
I returned to my email application, desperate to find something.
Nothing.
Frustrated, I tapped the tip of the cell against my temple.
You’ll find something interesting in your email.
As I dissected each word, I sifted through my thoughts to discover their true meaning.
“Shit.”
I slid the drawer of my nightstand open and pulled out the cell I hardly saw much of. It was considered my personal cell before I ended up with two more and a business phone. I tapped the screen, hoping God was on my side.
“Fuck.”
As suspected, it was dead. I followed the white cord from the wall to my pillow. Once retrieved, I shoved it into the cell, hoping for a speedy recovery.
As the wait began, I pulled in a deep breath and then released it slowly. My fingertips massaged my temple as I planted my cheeks on my thumbs. I could feel a migraine approaching.
Again, I was up on my feet and in the kitchen within seconds. I twisted the cap of the meds and poured two in my hand. I recapped the bottle and tossed it back into the drawer it had come from.
Two pills entered my system with the help of cold water. I retreated to my bed. As the cushion attempted to comfort me, the Apple logo appeared on the black screen.
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