Azmir shrugs and sits back. “I did well in real estate before the market crashed…got bored with that, but liked the flipping concept and thought to transpose it to businesses. I looked into a well-versed partner, hooked him, and the rest is history.”
He pauses but for a brief moment before he brings his elbows to his thighs. “Rayna, I worked hard for every penny I’ve earned. I didn’t sleep; I ate each meal on the run. I strategized for days, weeks, sometimes months on my next move. At night when everyone else slept, I orchestrated the streets. During the day when my goon contemporaries slept, I legitimized my reputation by rubbing elbows with corporate America. I’m not your run-of-the-mill block hugger. I’ve always had an end game. And separating me from the rest of those cats is that I pursued my plan and succeeded. I fooled the best of them being two different men; orchestrating two different careers—”
“Oh, my god…you are Keyser S?ze!” I cup my mouth on a slap.
“Pardon me?” Azmir plucks his brow. I didn’t mean to let that slip.
“Nothing,” I quickly retract. Right now is not the ideal time to open the Thompson can of worms... Then on second thought…now that all of our cards are up, why not? “I ran into Thompson a few weeks ago. He…” I find myself chewing on my bottom lip.
“He what?” Azmir grates impatiently.
“He warned me about you…made it seem like you were this menacing mastermind.” As crazy as it sounds, I’m spooked right now.
Abruptly, Azmir stands and walks inside of the great room. I don’t see him much beyond the sliding doors. It’s not his style to walk away from a conversation; I coined that behavior entirely. I wait perhaps a minute or two before I see him make his way back on the patio with a folder. My stomach toils. The last time he presented me with one of these it was laden with the bones that make up the skeleton of my past.
I open it with shaky hands as Azmir takes to his seat, grabbing his tumbler on the way. The first recognizable name I see on a legal document is Brian Thompson. The packet is filled with legal verbiage, much of which I can’t decipher, but I struggle through it.
And that’s when I identify the words plaintiff and defendant.
~~~~~~~~~~
Azmir
Rayna’s mouth hangs agape, then she brings her left hand to cup her face. I’ve held on to this news because I didn’t want to concern her with it. I told her to stay away from him and per John’s reports, she had…well, for the most part. He did relay to me her running into him in some bodega in South L.A., but I decided to not to confront her about it. She was safe from that son of a bitch and that’s all that mattered. However, now that she brings it up, in the spirit of sharing, I fully disclose what I know.
After confronting him in Wino’s back in San Diego, I had him looked into. It was for purely jealous reasons; I’m man enough to admit Rayna brings out the bitch in me. And going to the extent of having him checked out was worth being a jealous and perhaps insecure lover. Washington uncovered Thompson’s penchant for drugging unsuspecting women and raping them. His track record was to have a few drinks with them, get them alone, slip them something that would knock them out for hours and have his way them. There were charges filed against him in at least two states, but his legal savvy has been enough to keep them tied up in processing.
When John reported Rayna’s run in with Thompson, instead of getting upset, I thought it was good for her to see him with a woman who was under the influence so, in the event I’d have to confront her with this news, she’d see the seriousness of my call to stay the hell away from him. It’s seems to be playing out in my favor.
After studying the document for some time, Rayna mutters, “I-I need to lie down. I’m sleepy.”
She places the file on the table and saunters into the apartment without another word. This time her silence doesn’t trouble or send me into a self-doubting fit. I know what she just learned is weighing heavily on her mind.
I clean up our glasses—Rayna’s oddly still being full—and go inside myself. After my shower, I crawl into bed, pulling a sleeping Rayna into me without disturbing Azna.
My chest feels light and all seems to be well with the world, in spite of the other stressors I face, like D-Struct still being on the loose. Rayna was the biggest of them all. Her being back in our home, in our bed, and in my arms ebbs the mental tension weighing me down. As I breathe into her hair, my lungs loosen, my heart flares, and my mind is able to rest for the first time in eleven days.