“Legend, shut up.”
They both laughed.
“OKAY! YES, SUH! I will be quiet! I promise I will be right there early in duh mornin’, boss! I was late ’cause I had to feed the hogs and tha dogs! Hey Master Thor, prominent God in Germanic paganism, you 1960’s-Jesus-on-the wall-with-flaxen-hair lookin’ mothafucka, want me tuh schuck ’nd jive for ya on FaceTime? I got my tap shoes on, just for you!”
“Legend, you’re an idiot.” Axel laughed, a stifled, somewhat uncomfortable sound.
“I shore promise it won’t happen again! Meeze bein’ late ’nd all! You just too good to me, suh! Got any cotton you want me to pick? Commercial say, it’s the fabric of our lives!”
Axel hung up on him, causing Melanie and Legend to burst out laughing again. It was obvious they had the same warped sense of humor.
“Don’t mind Legend, English. He’s just silly,” she stated, as if she weren’t part of the problem. She returned with a couple beers, and the three sat down. After a few moments of small talk, Legend turned serious. He grabbed the remote control and turned off the television, then turned to English. The seriousness of his expression grabbed her soul and squeezed. Meanwhile, Melanie continued to smoke.
“Let me explain something to you. I’m not Axel. I don’t love you, so I don’t have to spare your feelings. You’re bad. Ain’t no denying that. Nice to look at, I can see why he noticed you, but this is no minor league shit. You fuck around with Axel, you’ve entered the big leagues. My brother ain’t no punk. Love is a battlefield, and we fight tooth and nail for ours.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” she asked calmly, taking a leisurely sip of her wine. This man is bonafide crazy. He’s gorgeous—but crazy.
“Baby girl, don’t play stupid with me.”
“I’m not. You can call me English.”
“Lil’ English Baby Girl.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re attracted to his lifestyle. You know damn well he’s not just some rock ’nd roll lookin’ type of mothafucka who loves his trucks ’nd shit. His profession is just the tip of the iceberg. Axel is about that life. You know who he is, and what he’s about. So with that bein’ said, you do realize he’s going to handle that mothafucka, right? Point blank, period.”
English shot Melanie a glance, but she didn’t seem the least bit phased from the conversation. “Don’t go lookin’ at my sister to try and see if I’m for real. I’m talkin’ directly to YOU.” He pointed in her face.
“First of all, sir, you are entirely too intense. You need to take it down a notch or two, and keep your finger out of my face. Secondly, just because you sound like a Black man doesn’t mean you are. Just thought you needed a wakeup call. Thirdly, I do not know you, or where that finger has been. Lastly, though the idea of him pushing up daisies appeals to me, I’ll be honest, I know God would want me to rise above that.”
“God? The same dude that sent a flood to wipe out ninety percent of people off the face of the Earth?” The man burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s funny! God IS the creator of justice, baby! Sometimes, with justice comes violence. It’s just that simple. We can’t always compromise or talk shit out. Some things are beyond negotiations of any sort. That’s not how the real world operates. God gave us fists.”
He snatched off his gloves and shook his tattooed hands in the air. “These hands can make knives, grenades, bombs, airplane missiles, submarines, pirate ships, drones, swords, bows and arrows, razors, and of course guns. Rulers are not soft. God is the ultimate ruler, and He broke the mold when He made mothafuckas like me and Axel. I don’t know why some people think God is like this old White dude in heaven preachin’ peace. Nahhh… peace comes at a price. Ain’t shit in this life for free. REAL TALK. Church.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting into a philosophical discussion about God with you, but I also don’t want anyone, except Master Whitefield, going to prison if it can be avoided.”
“That’s why when we move by logic, and not emotion, things get taken care of smoothly. You see the ducks being put in a row—that’s all by design. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to send a message.”
“Why are you so involved in this? I know Axel asked for your help, and you care about him, but you are risking—”
“You ain’t alive if you aren’t willing to take risks, baby. The difference now in my life, English, is that I make calculated risks. This isn’t a small issue. You could literally die if this guy got a hold of you, and Axel doesn’t play around when it comes to his friends, let alone his woman. I’m the same way. Axel helped me, and now, I’m helping him. This guy that’s messing with you has gotten in way over his head and doesn’t even know it. He’s about to find out though…”