Читать книгу 'The River' Blood Brother Chronicles - Volume 1 - T. Beaulieu - Страница 8

Riding into town under the dark of night and rain is a sport for the two brothers, though Benjamin holds on for a dear life. One of which he should have lost several times.

Slick, none the wiser, skids somewhat as he drives the new Packard. A gift from Kelly. Driving like a bat out of hell, faster and faster, slick laughs out loud.

“Please slo’ tha’ fuck down --naw!,” Benjamin yells, white knuckling his way deeper into the passenger seat.

Making it into town, the dark clouds up above finished with their punishment, Benjamin and Slick arrive at Slick’s home. A hot meal after all that liquor is in order. Especially Kelly’s beef stew, a good meal since both men are drenched and cold once again.

Arriving at the doorstep to Slick’s home, the blond haired killer looks to his cohort with a serious smirk. “No this hur’ Kelly is my woman negro. Yo’ get smart wit’ tha’ pretty face of yu’rs. Yo’ dead,” he slurs with a grin.

“Yo’ feel wha’ I’m cook’in fucka?”

Benjamin laughs, almost a snicker, seeing the small lump in Slicks breast pocket. “Yeah mane. Not gon’ happen fo’sho,” he smiles.

“Scouts fuck’in honor play’a”

Slick laughs as he walks in, his half brother following behind. “Negro please. Ya’ aint got no fuck’in honor, and neither do I.”

Both men walk into a lovely home, a three story mansion of finery, yet domestic and calm. In the long foyer, Benjamin is greeted with a joyful bouquet of lilies and irises. Kelly’s favorite flowers.

Happy to be home, the blue eyed hustler walks ahead, watching his half brother from his side eye.

It has always pained him that Benjamin has never settled down with the right woman. Being a killer can do a toll on a man’s soul. A wound only a good woman can heal.

The men enter a large tastefully designer living area, past bouquet of daisies on a coffee table, along with a Tiffany reading lamp. As Benjamin moves to sit on a overstuffed silk covered arm chair, he hears a bellow from the kitchen as the aroma of good cooking wafting heavily.

“And if you do Benjamin!”

“The good Lord will not be able to take my foot from your butt!,” Kelly yells from the next room.

Benjamin laughs as Slick stands straight, as if trying to make himself taller, glaring over at his chuckling cohort as the creole looks all around. Both are drenched from the car ride.

Looking around wide eyed, benjamin has been in his sister-in-laws proud family home before. In fact he lives with Slick and Kelly, when not hiding out in several homes speckled out across the Carolinas. But a home is not a home without family.

The creole feels the love of family in the air, something he has missed in the last weeks while away on blood business.

For some reason, the showcase 1920’s home feels different, almost as if a certain kind of heaven.

The creole takes in all kinds of art, books, some of which are with titles he read as a boy, others in different languages. Directly in front of the men, a warm fire greets them both, roaring behind a proud brass fire screen that is ornate with gleaming roses. Radiating a gentle welcome.

“Just stand still, “ Slick nearly whispers as Benjamin snickers.

As both men look on, Kelly arrives from the opposite side of the room, dry clothing for both, beaming a warm smile on her pretty face.

“See. I had all this planned from the git-go,” the hostess grins.

Looking over at her beloved husband, kissing Slick on his cheek. Kelly grins over to Benjamin whom is surprised at the hospitality. He watches as the young beauty sits the clothes down gently. Each shirt and pair of pants folded lovingly with care.

Quickly glancing up to both men, both standing still in wet suits, the young socialite smiles sweetly. “Are the both of you going to just stand there and catch pneumonia ?”

“Off with those wet rags. I’ll get my wash girl to take care of them,” the lovely hostess snaps, eyeing Benjamin especially, seeing the odd look on his face.

The creole looks to his partner in crime, as if for permission.

Slick is already down to his boxers, grinning up to his wife as his brawny muscular thighs prickle red from the cold.

Benjamin does as he is told, keeping his eyes on Slick as he does so.

Both men do not see Kelly as she snickers, seeing each man strip as ordered. Down to their silk boxers, dampness outlining clearly what makes both of them wonderful lovers, the hustlers look like two meek teens.

Seeing Benjamin’s odd look to his brother, the young lady snickers more.

Taking in the fact that both men are of different heights and skin colors, from the midsection downward, the brothers could be twins.

“You can definitely tell the both of you had the same daddy,” the blonde flapper laughs out loud.

“Anything else woman?!” Slick yells to his wife, throwing the last of his pants on the floor.

Kelly pays her young husband no mind, continuing to snicker.

“Nope. Off with the rest sweet'ems,” she purrs.

This all amuses the wealthy socialite greatly. Looking over to Benjamin, the young woman grins, keeping her eyes above chest level.

Proudly, the handsome creole does as he is told. Stripping completely, the hustler glances over to his cohort defiantly. Naked as a happy jay bird, the carmel colored gangster smiles. At least until he looks downward over to Slick.

Instantly the thug scoffs back a chuckle, looking away with a sincere smirk.

“Always knew ya’ had color’d blood su’m whu’r in tha’ pale skin,” Benjamin grins.

Slick chuckles proudly as Kelly hands him his change of clothes. Doing the same for Benjamin. “Naw. Ya’ papi is my papi,” Slick chuckles.

“Ya’- naw. Yo’ mamie sent ya’ ass up the river like Moses,” Benjamin laughs, thanking Kelly.

“Lies nigga. Ya’ mamie didn’t want yu’r tar black papi to find out she lik’d a little milk wit’ her coffee. Look how y’ur dumb ass turn’d out?,” Slick grins.

Amused, Benjamin sees not an ounce of blush in Kelly’s creamy cheeks.

The beauty looks as matter-of-factly as she can. Serious and down to business as usual. The creole hands his wet clothes to the sexy blonde, watching her reaction to his nude prowess. Doing so, benjamin purposely makes his dick jump.

Kelly hands him a dry towel. No reaction.

“I saw tha’ muth’a -fuk’a.”

“Do it ‘gain and I’mma cut tha’ fuck’a off ya hu’r me,” Slick playfully rants.

Kelly simply laughs out loud.

Benjamin huffs. “Ya jus’ mad cus’ I’m bigg’a nigga.”

Kelly shakes her head as she walks away.

Boys an their penises.

After a stiff good brandy and a cigar, talking over their plans, Kelly finally serves dinner. A white butler ushers the men into a grand dinner room that could easily fit twelve. Beef stew is served by a black maid. A young woman whom Benjamin got the job.

The slick hustler smiles at the pretty young woman, winking. She had to do so much just to get the job, most of it on her back and knees.

Benjamin chuckles, smelling the stew and hot buttered bread. “How’s Sally work’in out?”

Pleased, Kelly nods to her personal assistant. The socialite hates the word ‘maid’, always referring to Sally as her assistant. The woman-of-the-house seats herself, shooing the butler away from pulling out her seat.

“Ask her your damn self,” the blonde snarks.

“Sally - gal. Come in here please!,” Kelly calls out.

Smiling, the young pretty black woman arrives from the kitchen, smiling warmly. Greeting everybody for a second time, the assistant glares to Kelly playfully. Sally shakes her head. “Call me a ‘gal’ again and we gon’ be cat fighting on tha kitchen flo’.”

Kelly laughs out loud, throwing a biscuit at the smirking beauty.

“Sweet'ems, this hooligan wants to know how your doing?,” she smirks.

The blonde flapper and the young woman are now close confidants. Best friends if Kelly has ever had one in her life. Sally is the one person Kelly can tell everything with full trust.

Always proud and full of gentility, the young black woman straightens her maid’s uniform. As if gaining her composure, mocking the question as well as whom originally asked it.

“Oh good ma’am. The money is fine. Enough to save for college fo’sho,” Sally smiles brightly, glaring over at Benjamin.

“Tho’ tha’ man that got me tha’ job-he an asshole with a capital A and H, with an L - perfect fo’ what he truly is...a damn liar.”

Kelly snickers at her friends response. “She does not like you Benjamin. At all. “ Benjamin does not feed into petty woman folk talk. He is hungry.

“Good fo’ hu’r,” he smiles.

“But who tha’ fuck does ?,” the creole snides, looking to Sally.

Watching as the woman brings Kelly water, her maid’s uniform fitting her perfectly in all the right places. The creole grins.

“But befo’ tha’ night get too old. I’mma slip some dick in ya’ hard and steady. Make that pussy happy,” he snides.

Quick as a bullet, the creole feels a biscuit hit him right in the face, making the hustler chuckle.

Slick only shakes his head, enjoying his hot stew.

Kelly instantly scoffs at her guests’ reaction. This time the Ice Queen blushes.

“Sally. Throw anoth’a biscuit at his nasty ass.”

“I swear before all glory. You men have the mouths of sewers,” she laughs.

“But dicks of gold,” Benjamin laughs.

Instantly another biscuit is thrown at the hustler, missing.

Sally only smirks at the creole knowingly.

Her bedroom door will be unlocked for sure. Shaking her head with a giggle, the maid slightly bows to Kelly. Off to the kitchen for her own small dinner.

Kelly breaks a piece of bread, glaring at the creole. Slick continuously grinning at everything.

“I heard what you made her do to get this job Benjamin.”

“Yeah. She told me. Every damn detail,” the hostess comments, reaching for more hot bread.

“When all this business is ova’. Please remind me to kick your black ass.”

“Gladly ma’am,” Benjamin smirks. Slick glares at his brother over the table.

Down to business, Kelly lets the men know of her plan to destroy Mick McClaren as well as his brothers. Finally adding Ole man Jack, only after the corrupt businessman has watched his brutal sons die a horrid death.

“As you gentlemen have found out,” she starts. Slick interrupts his wife.

“I ‘ready told’em sweet mama,” he says with a smile, slurping stew.

“Yes. But I have not,” Kelly shoots back, glaring.

The response has Slick to look quickly to his hot bowl of goodness. He wants no argument.

“Anyways,” Kelly starts again, daring Slick to even look up from his food.

“I was put in jail. For no other reason other than my father refused to fire the black men in his factory first. Ofcourse because of layoffs.”

“Now as you men know, when the economy is rough.”

“Especially in a growing towns like the one we live in, the first to feel the swift hammer of bitter unemployment are the colored,” Kelly says as she looks to her husband.

Watching the man slurp his stew, the young woman laughs, as well as Benjamin. Slick sounds as if he inhaling the stew instead of eating it.

Kelly shakes her head. As does Sally, walking into to see the commotion. “

“Dang .....you is greedy,” the black assistant giggles.

Slick looks up from his stew, playfully glaring at his wife’s assistant. “I got su’m dirty draws fo’ ya ta’ wash niglet.”

Sally smirks as she rolls her eyes, Kelly laughing.

“I’mma burn them bitches - mess’in with me,” she says, walking back in the kitchen.

Slick laughs. “Can’t we get nutha’ maid. One tha’ don’t back talk..?,” he says to a giggling Kelly.

As soon as the words leave his lips, a homemade cheddar biscuit hits the hustler square on the forehead. Plopping in his stew. Not caring, Slick happily samples the new addition. It makes the meal even better.

“I’m tak’in tha out’cha pay niglet,” he calls out to the kitchen.

“Kiss my black ass Slick!,” can be heard from around the corner as everyone laughs.

Settling down, Kelly continues to explain what happen to her, watching as Benjamin gets up from his dinner.

“Where are you going now...?” Kelly asks as the creole rushes off to the kitchen.

All that can be heard is a series of shrill giggles, Sally arriving with more water, blushing, as Benjamin sits back down.

As the creole starts eats, everyone laughs. “Well.....ya’ aint ‘x'cpt hu’r invitation ta’ kiss that fat black ass-I did,” Benjamin chuckles, Sally walking by, kissing the creole on the cheek.

Kelly looks sternly at her brother-in-law. “Get back up again-no dinner,” she says, continuing.

“Well-daddy told him to put his advice where the sun don’t and will never shine.”

“Ole man Jack conjured up some offenses because of my silly brained brother.

“And I was in the pokey-for a week,” Kelly laments, dropping her sliced bread,

understandably upset.

Everyone watching, sally quickly arriving to her friend’s side, rubbing Kelly’s shoulders. She already knows the story all too well.

As the jovial atmosphere in the large dinner room turns dark, mouths stop chewing as spoons are put down. Everyone watches as Kelly spills out her heart.

“You wanna know what they would have done to me if not for my daddy’s connections ?,” the young woman asks with tears in her eyes.

Listening, Benjamin nods his head, the slick talking creole had stopped eating, just as upset as the lady of the house, horrid images of rape and abuse forced from his overactive imagination with a hateful grimace.

Seeing the lose of dignity in his love’s eyes, slick reaching across the table for his dear wives hand, Kelly stubbornly keeping her hands in her lap, thinking back to the horrid events.

Determined, the young woman’s steely blue eyes force back tears with the might of a thousand men. Kelly looks into her soup, seeing the most depraved of images in her mind’s eyes.

“You know what?,” she asks, her voice cracking.

“They raped some colored girl in the cell next to me.”

With this new revelation ringing in his ears, Slick immediately jumps up from his seat, meaning to grab for a new suit of clothes as well as a gun.

“Nawwww muth'a’ fucka’-my wife mane-my fuck’in wife!!,” he yells, nearly knocking over his chair.

“Sum’body bout’ ta’ die ta night!!!

Quickly, benjamin pulls at the furious man’s arm as his eyes motion to a gently sobbing Kelly, her delicate shoulders quaking ever so slightly. Slick sits back down. This is not about his machismo. His wife is in pain.

Sally holds Kelly to her chest, rocking her friend back and forth like a baby.

“They brutalized that young woman’s body right next to me.....” the blonde flapper says.

In Sally’s arms, Kelly looks away from the men. She needs to find her own strength once again, gently pushing away from her assistant.

“Then-when they were finished, they dragged her off.”

“She probably hang’in from some damn tree,” Kelly says with a horrified whisper.

As the bitter words leave the young woman’s twitching lips, Kelly suddenly straightens her shoulders, roughly wiping her tears away.

Hardened a long time ago, the young woman will allow her fear and agony grow into a vine for revenge ripe with bloody fruit.

Glaring at her husband, the woman sends Sally back to eat her own dinner.

“Them bastards. I want to be the one to send them to hell-ya’ hu’r me!”

“All I want yall to do is hold them down-I want what they used to brutalize that girl.”

“I want to wear their balls as damn earrings!,” Kelly yells.

Suddenly Sally runs in from the kitchen, wiping her mouth from her own dinner, quickly holding her friend and employer, one of the few white woman that has treated as an equal.

“Naw-Naw Kelly baby girl,” Sally says as she struggles with Kelly.

“Don’tcha go gett’in all riled up ova’ them bad men.”

“I’m sho’ Slick and Benjamin gon’ see justice be blood red and right.”

With her declaration, the maid looks to the men, daring each to even defy her wish.

“Aint that right fellas.....?,” she seethes.

Benjamin and Slick look to each other, both simultaneously pushing their stew away. Neither is hungry, at least not for food.

“Now hunny-love of my life and loins, that’s pretty dramatic.”

“Don'tcha think love,” Slick says sweetly as his thick Louisiana tongue tries to soothe his wife.

“Ben and I gon’ take care of them fuck’as. Ya’ need not even kno’ how or when. I guarantee ya’ that.”

With Sally still stroking her shoulders, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks, Kelly’s read rises with a hate and malice in her eyes so bright, if the devil was in the room, he would run in the other direction.

“What you say naw’....?,” she seethes, holding on of Sally’s dear hands.

“What you say naw’- answer me Slick!?”

Slick sits back in his seat, shocked. He has never seen his young wife so angry, and rightfully so.

“Darl’in...I was jus’ say’in wha’ yo’.....yo’ kno’ just said.”

“That’s kin’of extreme. We just gon’ do what it is we do-put’em in tha’ ground....”

“Wit’ all they parts...say ay ?”

Kelly knows patronization when she hears it, a stinging notion often soothed over by sweet words. Suddenly, quick as a fierce bull in diamonds and pearls, Kelly shoots up from the table, nearly knocking over her bowl of pea soap.

With her small hand, the woman-of-the-house pounds on the tabletop with a huge thud that seems to shake the house’s foundation.

Sally looks from her friend, trying to calm the young woman down. Silently.

“What say you na...?!,” Sally seethes, her voice hot like hell fire. “ Say it again mutha’fucka. Say that shit tha’ fuck again!”

Slick looks up from his uneaten stew, now cold. “I’m just say’in...,” the thug starts as Kelly cuts him off.

“Where you in that jail cell with me-was you?”

“No-you decided to take on a damn job I told you not to take in the first damn place!,” Kelly nearly screams.

“You were supposed to be here-you and Benjamin both.”

“No-not the “Blood Brothers-Righter of Wrongs’”.

Kelly stops talking, feeling her heart beat in her ears. The only person keeping her from slapping her husband’s face is Sally’s gentle stroke on her shoulders.

“Look-a hur, you bring them back to me-one at a time, tied up in twos-or in trunks. But I want them alive and on this damn table.”

“Dicks and balls in the goddamn air!,” Kelly yells.

Quickly, Sally crosses her self like the good catholic she tries to be, rushing from the room, probably to pray.

“On this very table, that is where I will take my retribution for myself as well as that girl.”

“We both gon’ have what we have com’in.”

“Do I make myself perfectly crystal mutha-fuck’in clear?,” the pretty lady of the house sneers. Fuming, Kelly’s red lips twist into a grimace that even makes Benjamin shudder as he looks up .

Both men nod, looking back at their quickly cooling beef stew, its remnants resembling something else entirely.

“Slick, I tell ya this naw’ boy. If you don’t do as I tell you, you can count yourself a single man,” Kelly mocks.

Slick has had enough, suddenly standing up quickly. “Naw hold on hur’ woman!”

Quickly, nose to nose, Kelly eyeballs the killer back in his seat.

“No you hold on hur.”

“My word is my word, and as a woman it is all I have.”

“I talked to that woman’s mama. I made promise to her that I would get the type of revenge that will set her heart at ease. You gon’ do as I say!,” Kelly orders.

“Naw!-” Slick starts right as Kelly pounds her fist on their beautiful oak table, the fine silverware trembling.

“Who got the pussy!?”.......she mutters.

Benjamin nearly snickers, looking into Kelly’s angry eyes, suddenly scared. Simmered down instantly, Slick slowly sits, nodding.

“Yeah-I see ya point baby,” he smiles sweetly. “If thats what ya’ want consida’ it done big mama.”

Benjamin looks around as Sally peeks back in, Kelly motioning the sensitive young woman over, having her clear the table. The lady-of-the-house sits back, eyeing her wedding ring, a perfect antique diamond solitaire passed down through her family, looking over to Slick, the love of her life.

Kelly smiles gently, the anger passing. “I’m sorry for my language. A lady should never use such words,” she coos, demure and lovely as ever.

Nodding, each understanding, the men watch as Kelly rises, helping Sally clear the plates and uneaten food.

After all is done, both women leave for the kitchen, leaving Benjamin and Slick to themselves.

After awkward glances to each other, sure the coast is clear, the boys start to speak.

“Well dammnn....,” Benjamin whispers.

“She was hot as firecrack’a on summ’a asphalt.”

“Shut the hell up negro fo’ ya’ get hur’ start’d ‘gain,” Slick sneers, about to chuckle.

As both men sit back in their chairs, they expect for Kelly to arrive back at the table. She does not, the young woman has called it a night.

The beauty is upset, tended to by Sally, saying all she is to say. Time to let men do what men are going to do.

“So how we gon’ do this?,” Benjamin whispers, thinking Kelly and Sally are still in the nearby kitchen.

Slick nods, trying to peep around the corner from his seat. “I got men already watch’in Ole man McClaren and all his bastu’ds,” he whispers, pouring a glass of wine. “In fact, yo’ kno’ they watch’in our every move.”

Benjamin nods, the comment making him suddenly laugh, pouring himself a glass of port as well. The creole curiously sniffs at the fine crystal glass, not pleased. He is not really a wine man. “Noth’in gets past those devil eyes of yu’rs huh?”

Slick laughs, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Shhhhhh-iiiittt, not if I want to stay ‘bove fuck’in ground negro - best tha’ fo’ so.”

Benjamin grins, nodding as he sips. Hit men all have one thing in common, its a sixth sense they develop through the art of taking the lives of others for money. Some say it maybe the devil protecting his own, giving these harbingers of death an advantage over others.

Others that benefit from the revenge, the powerless, ultimate wrongs made right, they say its God sending Archangel Michael to guard those that vet out the almighty’s justice, his soldiers.

What one sees as an angel, another sees as a devil, a perfect analogy for Benjamin and Slick.

Listening to his half brother speak about their plan, benjamin's eyebrow raises, enjoying the fine wine, surprised. “How long?,” he asks, changing the subject slightly.

“A whole week naw’,” Slick says, thinking back.

“They started Sunday, tail’in me and tha’ misses all tha’ way home fru’m a family get-together’. Kelly saw’em befo’ I did fo’ sure.”

“That’s my girl,” he says with pride, taking a swallow.

After some time, the men say nothing, Slick peeking for Kelly on occasion. Benjamin rises, closing curtains that are open to the street below. His partner’s comments are making him more and more paranoid, as if death crawling up one’s spine.

“So how we gon’ do this. I seem to keep repeat’in my fuck’in self son.” the creole smiles.

Slick laughs, looking past his buddy, making sure that his wife is not eavesdropping. “Naw, not at all play’a.”

“And for that dick and ball snip’in shi.”

“We aint do’in all that. Trust me fo’sho.

“That’s the quickest way to be labeled a queer son.”

Grinning, Benjamin pours another glass of fine port. “Tha’ fuck we aint son.”

“If that’s what Kelly wants, give tha’ gu’d pussy wha’ she wants negro.”

“Besides-shhhiiiiiitt -- we aint do’in the snip’in at all,” the creole grins.

Hearing his partner, the blue eyed thug’s face contorts into a curious grin. “Yeah-I guess ya’ right. Anyways boy..tha’ plan is this,” Slick whispers a playful mock.

Benjamin cuts his partner off with a raised eyebrow.

“What tha’ fuck you just say, ya slaber-mouth'd devil eyed honkey?”

Slick laughs, snickering in his rim of his glass. “ I called you a boy.....nigg’a...”

“I see ya’ want ta’ do this by ya’ self Slick,” Benjamin leers, about to rise, right as his partner motions for him to sit down.

“How long have we known each other?,” Slick smiles.

Benjamin thinks back, sitting on edge of the fine dinner table, hearing it creak slightly under his weight. “Shit’- bout’ all our life.”

Relaxing, the white hustler leans back in his seat, the fine chair creaking under his weight. In his eyes he sees a man that he has known most of his life and all of his murderous career, a keeper of his darkest secrets.

“Nigga...when ya’ ate-I ate.”

“When ya’ shit-I shit. We have ate fru’m tha’ same plate, slept in tha’ same bed sense we both can rememb’a.”

“Fuck, I got mo’ black in my soul than you got in ya’ whole fuck’in bourgeoisie red ass, “ Slick laughs.

“When ya’ mama kissed yo’ on ya’ fo’head, she kissed me on mine too fuck’a.”

“Get off ya’ fuck’in high horse.”

Benjamin laughs, sitting back down. “If ya’ was anyone else-ya’ brains would be all ov’a that nice dinner cabinet mutha-fuck’a.”

“And I’d have new earrings fo’ Kelly,” Slick laughs.

Chuckling at his own words, the blue eyed killer watches his half brother sit back down, two peas in a pod, where ever one goes, the other will follow. Most of the time.

Brothers in the truest form.

Some folks even call Benjamin Slick’s shadow, because he is black ofcourse, a saying the handsome creole hates, even killing a man because if it.

Sipping a good fifteen year port, benjamin looks his friend in the eyes, liquid blue orbs of curiosity and grand intelligence, well past Slick’s second grade education. “Ya aint got a plan do ya ?”

Slick nods.

“Tha’ fuck I do nigga. And its a good on too.”