Chapter Eleven- Buddha
“Are you trying to get us killed before we get to Dior?” Lorenzo asked, grabbing the inside of the roof of my Bugatti.
I squeezed the steering wheel, ignoring him.
I was so mad that I could practically see everything double.
My vision was all the way fucked up as I drove, but I couldn’t stop because my wife needed me.
Hearing Dior cry over the phone like that, shit, I never felt so useless in my life.
I swear it pained my chest so much that I thought I was having a heart attack.
When I got off the phone with Dior, I called Lorenzo and told him that whatever he was doing, he needed to stop because I was coming to get him.
I let Dior know she needed to get back inside the restaurant and wait for me. She got strict instructions to stay right there until she saw me.
“I’m getting soft,” I mumbled, the realization more to myself than to Lorenzo. I could feel him look at me, and I took a deep breath.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“I had the opportunity to kill Jeremy, and I left that mothafucka to see another day. I think he had been following me that day at the gas station. I should have dealt with it then, but I didn’t.
Ever since Dior came into my life, I’ve been losing my edge.
I’m getting too fucking soft; letting my guard down is going to get somebody I love killed,” I explained to Lorenzo.
Things like this I don’t discuss; I don’t ever open up to anyone, but this circumstance that I was faced with. I couldn’t help but pour my heart out to one person I respected just as much as my father.
“Let me tell you something, Buddha. There’s a saying behind every great man is a woman holding him down.
Women have a way of changing things. You see the world differently, and you want to do good by them.
The way I see it, if you meet a woman and you don’t automatically want to be better, do better for her.
Then fuck it, she’s not the one for you.
When you love a woman, there’s nothing you’d want more than to be a better man for her.
The way I see it, Buddha, you’re a man inn amorato (in love).
Don’t look at it as you’re getting soft.
This means you’ve got more to protect, and it’s important to keep your guard up, but never soft…
you’re never soft,” Lorenzo said, reaching over; he lightly patted me on my shoulder.
I nodded my head, appreciating his words because I sure needed them.
“Sometimes you can be a real insightful mothafucka, you know that,” I said, finding a parking spot right next to Dior’s Porsche.
“You’re like the son I never wanted, you know that?” Lorenzo said, and all we could do was burst out laughing because he’d said this to me in the past before. “Nah, I really want to see you and Dior win. She’s a petardo (firecracker), but she’s just what you need.”
I continued laughing as Lorenzo and I hopped out of my vehicle. We both walked over to Dior’s Porsche and peered inside. I looked in the backseat just to be sure Jeremy didn’t leave anything behind. However, there was nothing amiss.
“Let’s go inside,” I said, pointing at the Chick-fil-A restaurant. Lorenzo and I made our way toward the door of the fast-food restaurant. I reached up and pulled the elastic band holding my hair, letting my curls fall to my shoulders.
I scanned around the room once I walked in, but did not see Dior.
“You see her?” I asked, turning to Lorenzo, who was also looking around. By now, we had begun to get curious stares from people in the restaurant. The women in the restaurant were boldly staring at a half-Italian and a whole-Italian as though we were something to eat.
“Nope,” he replied. Immediately, I became annoyed because I told Dior to sit here and wait for me. I felt a sense of panic fill my chest, wondering if Jeremy somehow came back and snatched her. Taking a deep, calming breath, I reached for the phone in my pocket.
Just as Dior’s phone began to ring, the door to the restroom opened, and she walked out. Holding her phone in her hand, she was about to take my call when she looked up and saw me. I never felt so relieved in my life.
Putting my phone away, I walked briskly over to her. The first thing I did was hold her face on either side so I could look into her eyes. “Are you good? Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she whimpered, her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head while looking at me. I felt my anger building all over again. Taking Dior’s hand, I led her out of the restaurant with Lorenzo hot on our heels.
“Gimme the keys to your Porsche,” I told Dior once I led her away from everyone and into the parking lot. In compliance with my request, Dior handed it over to me without issue.
“Lorenzo, take Dior’s Porsche and drive it to my place. I’ll take her with me,” I handed the key to him, and he took it with a nod of his head.
“Sure thing, boss. I’m glad you’re alright petardo. Don’t worry, we’ll get the guy that did this.” Lorenzo said, giving Dior a tight smile.
“Thank you, Lorenzo. Take good care of my baby, ok,” Dior said, giving Lorenzo a smile.
“Sure thing. See you later, boss,” Lorenzo waved us off as he stepped away.
I didn’t know how to feel; all I knew was that I was relieved my wife was all right.
“Let’s go home, Dior,” I reached for her hand and led her over to my car. Lorenzo was already gone by the time we walked over. Opening the front door, I helped Dior climb inside, and then I got behind the wheel.
I had a lot on my mind as I drove out of the parking lot, so I was really quiet. The first red light I stopped at, I could feel Dior’s eyes on me. I knew she was waiting for me to say something, but I had nothing to say.
“Buddha, don’t I get an explanation?” She finally found her voice to ask her question.
“Explanation about what?” I asked softly, not even bothering to look over at her. I kept my head straight, looking at the beat-up Honda in front of me.
“Buddha, that man said you knew something about his brother. What the hell is that about? Who is he talking about?” Dior’s question made me rub my chin, wondering if I should answer.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle this,” I replied. That wasn’t a lie. I was going to deal with this; I was going to make Jeremy wish his mother had swallowed.
“I don’t know why that man came after me. He knew a lot, Buddha. He knew my car was brand new and everything. Now, I believe I should at least know who he’s talking about,” Dior pushed, and I hated for people to push and insist when I already said what the fuck I said.
I squeezed the steering wheel so tightly that the palms of my hands hurt.
“Why the fuck are you clenching the steering wheel like that? Are you wishing it was my neck?” Dior, as always, didn’t know when to just shut the fuck up. I was now forced with the task of not getting angry, so I took a couple of deep breaths.
“So you’re not gonna answer me?” I tapped my fingertips on the wheel just as the light turned green and drove off.
“You’re fucking unbelievable. A maniac jumps inside my vehicle and places a gun to my head. Threatens to blow my brains out if you don’t tell him where his brother is, and you’re refusing to tell me what this is about! I am your wife, Buddha!”
My deep breathing wasn’t working because the next thing I knew, I slammed the brakes in the middle of the fucking highway. Cars were blowing their horns as drivers rolled their windows down to cuss me out.
“Buddha, are you crazy? You can’t stop here, you’re gonna get us killed,” Dior shrieked, her eyes wide with fright. Good, I was glad she was afraid because she was getting on my nerves. I leaned over and grabbed her upper arms, pinning her against the door.
“You’re my wife, hmmm, Dior. You’re my wife, so listen to what I say to you,” I wagged my index finger in her face, treating her like an out-of-control child, which she acted like.
“The man in the backseat of your car was Jamieson’s brother.
You remember Jamieson, the man I dismembered and fed to my pigs.
Jeremy is his brother and has been looking for him since the day before we left on our trip to Italy.
So shut the fuck up and let me think because there’s no way he can get his brother back.
” By the time I finished my rant, I was breathing heavily.
“Get the fuck out of the road, you fucking asshole!” a driver screamed at me as he slowed down next to my vehicle. I rolled my window down and stuck my head out.
“Aye pussy! Succhiami il cazzo (suck my dick)!” I hollered at him before I drove off. I looked over at Dior, and she was staring at me. I could tell the squirrel on the wheel in her head was running like a mothafucka. She was thinking of what she could tell me so she would have the last word.
Narrowing her eyes at me, she folded her arms and huffed loudly. “Don’t tell me to shut the fuck up,” she mumbled. I rolled my eyes because Dior was gonna give me an aneurysm one day.
****
I sat on the front step of my home as I smoked a cigarette. I've been so stressed that I've had a headache since I got home. I scratched the back of Lotus’ ear as I blew a thick puff of smoke into the night’s air.
I had to meet my brother, father, and Lorenzo in a few minutes to figure out how I was about to deal with Jeremy.
Do you know how brave of a mothafucka Jeremy had to be to do what he did?
I mean, what the fuck did he think was going to be the outcome?
That I’d tell him where Jamieson was, and then he’ll walk away unscathed like he didn’t threaten to kill my fucking wife.
I pinched between my eyes at the thought of all the what-ifs. What if he’d pulled the trigger and killed Dior?
“Fuck,” I muttered, feeling an unfamiliar tug in my chest. Just thinking about losing my wife made me feel weak.