A light complexioned Black man in shades and a gray suit stepped out of the passenger’s side of the Land Rover, a wide smile on his face. Three other men got out of the car, standing all around him like a protective fortress. He spoke arrogantly to her, calling her Shira…
“My bride is here!” He threw up his hands, then embraced her. The men and women around him clapped and began to speak in a language he couldn’t understand. “Shira is a Hebrew name. ???? … a Hebrew name of significance that means “poetry,” “singing,” or “music”. I named you that because of your beautiful voice when you spoke, Shira. It was like music. The way you speak is like poetry. It was the first thing I loved about you, apart from your beauty. Your heart. Your intelligence. Your faithfulness. Your voice is unique, and captivating.
“The way you speak draws people to you. It always has. People get captivated by the way you express yourself… A beautiful Black woman who speaks with such elegance and is in the know. I’m glad you called me today, came to your senses, and realized where you belong. You still have to prove yourself to me. I can tell extensive damage was done to you.” He looked her up and down, disgusted. “You being called English is an insult. I told you that when I first allowed you next to me. No Black woman should be called a name like that. It’s an abomination, just like you. That name is below you! Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Master.” She clasped her hands together and lowered her head.
“I forgive you for the trouble you’ve caused me, Shira, but it will take a long time for you to redeem yourself in my eyes. You’re going to go through some trials and tribulations. Look how much I love you, all of the things I endured, to get you back. Traveling from city to city, following you. Watching over you to make sure you were safe, and what did I get in return? You runnin’ to the White man! You went to the police, knowing they don’t give a shit about us as a people. You were dating a White man, too. You’re filthy! Disgusting! Contaminated! Like some animal! I bet you let that stringy haired beast nut in you. How revolting! You lay down with dogs, and are bound to have fleas. I will have to put so much time and energy into getting you back on track, it may not even be worth my while, after all, whore!”
He then lifted his arm and smacked her so hard, she fell to the ground.
Axel’s fingers itched and his head began to throb. Rage bubbled within his core like a pot of water on the stove, getting hotter by the second. The fucker took a cloth, wiped her blood off his hand, then helped her to her feet.
“What do you have to say for yourself, you dirty ass bitch?”
“…I’m sorry, Master.” English’s voice cracked.
“Say it again.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Sorry for what, Shira?!”
“For leaving you. Betraying you. Losing your trust. And disobeying the commandments.”
“Get this slutty, white dick lovin’ bitch out of my face! I’ll deal with you tonight.” He chuckled as he adjusted his pants.
The man seemed to turn on and off like hot and cold water, on a dime. Two women took hold of her and started to get her back into the back of the black van.
…And go!
Axel sped to one end of the parking lot, blocking the exit, while Legend watched for his cue, and blocked the second outlet. Jumping out, they ran towards the small crowd, guns blazing…
“DRIVE OFF IN THAT VAN, AND I WILL FUCK YOU UP!” Axel screamed.
Tires screeched and yelling ensued. Before he knew it, he was practically airborne, shooting into the night as the black van barreled towards him.
“TAKE HIM DOWN, NOW!” Legend yelled in the distance as he blasted his AK-47 into the Range Rover, killing the driver before he could even get out of park.
Blood splatter painted the concrete as cracks of light rent the sky, gunfire ablaze. Smolder from the weapons quickly filled the air. Limbs fell upon the pavement, and groans of pain and pleas came from all directions. Axel shot directly into the windshield several times, causing the black van to run into the side of the church. The front of it crushed like a tin can. Racing to the van, he opened the back door where English had been shoved.
“Baby…” he said when he saw her.
Her head was bloodied, but otherwise, she looked okay. He shot into the vehicle a few more times after seeing a couple of the bodies twitch, then picked her up in his arms and walked away. After he was a good distance from the vehicle, he released her, allowing her to stand on her own two feet—just as she wished to do. English stood there shaking like a leaf, grasping her gun tight, eyes wide. The damn thing was smoking.