Adversary (22 page)

Selange sighed with relief when she saw her husband’s dirt smudged face. “Honey, thank you!”

He had her, yes, dammit she was safe. Relieved his chin dropped to her hair and he kissed the shit out of her forehead. “That was risky babe. You had me petrified back there!”

“I was scared, too. They were going to chop off your arm,” she cried and he swallowed touched by her fear that inspired bravery.

“I can survive the loss of a limb babe, but I cannot live without you!”

“Is it over?”

“I think so.”

“We have to bury that woman. She deserves that, so does Estefan and Ari’s guard.”

“That goes without saying love. I agree.”

Selange lifted her face to her husband. “Is that Bianca with Nico?”

Alfonzo gave a curt nod. “It sure is.” He took her hand and began to march back to the others. “Come on, we need to get back!”

When they stepped in the clearing they were met by a search party about to begin their hunt for the Don and his wife. The guys fell in step behind Alfonzo as he returned to the dirt riddled with bodies and of course Nico casually leaning on a dusty vehicle with a cigar talking to Ari as if they were outside on a porch. “Hey kids where did you run off to?”

Alfonzo shook his head as Selange’s fingers released and she ran to Ari and they hugged like sisters, both thankful the ordeal ended without witnessing a sister’s death. Nico noticed their bond had grown and his eye sought out Alfonzo’s whose mouth stayed a firm line as he approached. “Where’s Giuseppe?”

“He’s good. We have the guys who took the women around the side.” Nico said and began walking in that direction.

Alfonzo’s steps were in a talking pace. “Speak to me Nico, what’s the deal with Bianca?”

“Protezioni Segreti. She’s under my protection.”

“How did you find out?”

“When she nearly killed me after the Palermo incident. It’s a long story.”

Alfonzo’s eyes studied Nico’s profile. There wasn’t a hint of deception, but then again Nico’s demeanor never revealed anything. Alfonzo wasn’t blind. Nico was bedding Bianca. The signs were there, he’d observed a lot. Giuseppe previously voiced what Alfonzo had foreseen. Nico was an adult, so was Bianca. A young beautiful widow required protection and apparently Nico took on the job. As long as Nico remained discreet he would not chastise the enforcer. The man danced in the dark with demons every day. He wasn’t whole without danger, perhaps his horrors were deeper than anybody understood. The man was the best at killing, how does a sane man claim humanity when slaughter is food to his profession? Of course Nico was troubled, of course he was moral less, of course there existed vices and Nico’s were women.

A cautious riddle Alberti once spoke is what Alfonzo recited to his cousin. “Burdens weigh on one person; but two help balance the load.” When Alberti made the statement he was referring to Nico and Giuseppe’s assistance with the family business. Alfonzo on the other-hand meant the women in Nico’s life.

Nico didn’t twitch a muscle, the damn stone figure stayed silent and unmoved. “Relax Nico; what matters is you always come through. Thanks for bringing back-up.”

“You’re welcome cugino.”

“Bianca’s bad-ass, damn.”

“Protezioni are known to be.”

Alfonzo smirked, the connection further confirmed. Many dangerous professions are rife with extra-marital affairs. Co-workers in high risk or intense jobs find understanding among their peers. They can speak freely about what they do and the death scenes without judgment from those of strong constitution. These therapeutic sessions may foster bonds and those emotions may lead to sexual relationships. Bianca and Nico were comrades in arms. Solace for one another when the killing overwhelmed and burdened. Wrong or not he truly loved the man who cared for him since adolescence. There aren’t many who he would trust with his life and Nico ranked very high among the few.

“Have the guy’s bury Kefilwe. Let the others rot in the sun.”

“Already done, you’re late.”

“You’re always on point.”

“I gotta’ be when it comes to our family.”

“I’m glad you are.” Alfonzo’s gaze was on the men kneeling in the dirt with their hands bound. He walked to Gamba, bent and snatched the bracelet he’d stolen before he punched the sucker in the mouth. “You fucking thief and by the way, the money’s been returned to my pockets. A dead man can’t take money to the grave.”

“One day when you are happy the mourning will eclipse the sun.”

“That’s the story of my life,” Alfonzo snarled and then he socked Gamba again and the prick fell over.

Moyo had his head bent low, perhaps expecting mercy but he found no kindness when Bianca squatted. He looked upon beauty right before the bullet tore through his heart.

Nico and Alfonzo exchanged glances. Not a word needed to be said about it. Bianca was straight-up gangster.

Gamba’s chest poked out and his head lifted when Giuseppe approached. A mocking smile formed. Blood trickled from the corner of Gamba’s mouth as he stared Giuseppe down. “You want to put a bullet in me, eh son of a slut?” he asked loudly.

“No, I’m going to beat you to death with my hands. Let him loose!” Giuseppe barked and then passed his gun to a nearby soldati. Alfonzo thought to intervene because he wanted to kill the sonovabitch, but shrugged what the hell, let Giuseppe have the honors. Giuseppe needed to pummel somebody to death. Let him get it out of his system before he faced Shanda.

The smug African with war in his blood is what Giuseppe needed to pound and not family. Men of war, equally matched, burning with something to prove to themselves stood as hulking menaces. “Oh this is going to be good!” Alfonzo grinned and sank on the dirt followed by Nico with that damn cigar.

“Let’s make a bet!” Nico said to Alfonzo and added in others. “Tony, guys place your wagers!”

Giuseppe removed his dirty shirt and his muscles popped. The African’s hands were cut free and men with guns made a circle, securing the perimeter and primed to shoot if Giuseppe’s life neared an end.

Bianca stood with the Protezioni also clutching Alberti’s Cohíba between her teeth. Hers was not a fat Behike. Luscious lips held a thinner Lanceros. Sexy Bianca stood out among the group of deadly men. She shouted to the gamblers. “Do not leave me out of the wager because I am feminine. I wager one million euro on mio Geo!”

Selange sunk in front of her husband. He placed the bracelet on her wrist and received a kiss. Then she made her wager. “Every dollar I have goes on my brother-in-law. Kick his ass Giuseppe!”

Then Ari was in on the action. An Italian vulgarity was screamed at the African who terrified women. “Show that cowardly bitch what a real man is Giuseppe. Ten million on my man Giuseppe!”

Alfonzo’s eyes widened. The women were going hard. High stake rollers. But he had no doubt about the outcome. He believed in his brother and gave him encouragement. He knew how to push Giuseppe’s buttons. “Make him eat dirt grande fratellino and for threatening my family and trying to take off my hand, now what kind of shit is that, huh?”

The statement made Giuseppe grumble. The moment the dark hands came in view, Giuseppe advanced on the war whore and clocked him in the face with one punch that sent him face-down in dirt. He kicked him hard and dragged him up. Another punch which resounded had broken a facial bone. Blood colored Giuseppe’s chest and the African miserably tried to fight back. He went to knee Giuseppe, but Giuseppe closed the space between his legs with a knee block and a fist to the abdomen and the dark chin. The power of an angry Sicilian reigned supreme.

Yes, Giuseppe’s strikes were to kill because he sought to kill pain. There is a time when the soul rages and any attempt to shackle into impotence is an impossible feat. The African had unleashed a furor when he killed the woman. In Kefilwe, Giuseppe saw Shanda, a warrior spirit cut-down by a brute. He saw himself in Gamba which angered him more.

The hot air of the Motherland gave Giuseppe fuel. Roar he did and shake bones with fists is how Giuseppe doused the flame. Guilt’s excessive consumption had fed self-flagellation after Shanda called off the wedding. He had blistered sores on his soul from her rejection. Brute, Don of men could not tame one woman. But, she was not meant to be tamed only loved. He was worse than this Gamba filth. Cut and disembowel a nurturer he would no longer do. Death in fists. Male upon male, this is the fight a warrior lived for. He fought in defense of women. Strike upon strike he beat the coward. “Fight harder stronzo…prove you are worthy to battle me!” Giuseppe bellowed before his knuckles cracked ribs. 

Alfonzo smirked and put his arm around his wife enjoying the brawl. This shit was better than being in Vegas at a heavyweight bout. There wasn’t a referee or a ding-ding to halt each round. This was straight up bare knuckle deadly street style fighting.

Giuseppe was beating the crap out of Gamba. Without guns, or thugs, there wasn’t any contest at this juncture. Giuseppe had Gamba’s face in the dirt, grinding it in the sediment with one mighty hand. Gamba’s attempt to lift up caught a spine shot that Alfonzo knew had to hurt or paralyze. This was Giuseppe raw, no joking or wise-cracks. Alfonzo whistled as an instigator. He was hyped as Giuseppe beat the scum. Fist pumping and shouting came from a family in unison. They were Giuseppe’s bloodthirsty cheerleaders. They had all fought battles, some internal, others external, but in the end they would stand as family against all adversaries.

Selange’s eyes traveled sideways where Nico sat with Ari’s head on his shoulder. Cigar smoke billowed from his nostrils like a bull. She observed his eyes were not on the fight, they were focused elsewhere…on Bianca.

Bianca’s stance reminded her of Nico’s wide, confident pose. Her chin tilted up in arrogance. The strawberry lips of a Sicilian beauty curved in a subtle smile in Nico’s direction.

A female version of Nico is what Selange observed in Bianca Luca.

Bianca and Nico were lovers.

Thump…thump…thump…went Selange’s heart as she spied Ari, apparently oblivious to the deception of her husband or perhaps she wasn’t. There are times when blindness protects the heart.

Selange leaned back to Alfonzo and gained further warmth.

Mudiwa in Shona means love.

Thump…thump…thump.

One beat.

One drum.

Thump…thump…thump.

One soul.

Nyaya –you,

Mhandara –husband,

Mabori –friend,

Mudiwa –love!

Usages and Definitions from the Alfonzo Series:

Protezioni Segreti –Secret Protectors

Circolo di Protezione –Circle of Protectors

Mavende mabori –Hello friends (Shona)

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Nuyorican –is a term used to identify New Yorkers born in Puerto Rico or of Puerto Rican descent who live in or near New York City. The word Nuyorican derives from a combination of the words "New York" and "Puerto Rican."

Shona- tribe is Zimbabwe's largest indigenous group, their tribal language is also called Shona (Bantu) and their population is around 9 million. They are found in Zimbabwe, Botswana and southern Mozambique in Southern Africa and bordering South Africa. Representing over 80% of the population, the Shona tribe is culturally the most dominate tribe in Zimbabwe. There are five main Shona language groups: Korekore, Zeseru, Manyika, Ndau, and Karanga. The Ndebele largely absorbed the last of these groups when they moved into western Zimbabwe in the 1830s. Traditionally, Shona people live in isolated settlements, usually consisting of one or more elder men and their extended families. Most decisions are made within the family, although organized political states were recognized as a source of centralized power. A principal chief who inherited his position and power in the same divine manner as a king headed them. He usually lived in a centralized location and was complemented by his court that advised him about most important decisions.

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