Page 52 of June: When Gangstas Collide

I entered the house, and something about it was different. It was darker, there were no maids around, and the smell of an aged whiskey and one of his favorite cigars lingered in the foyer. My head slowly eased toward the study where the crackle of the fireplace whistled. I took a deep breath, lifted my head, and made my way to where Clark was.

Since leaving the church, different conversations played in my head about how I wanted to address the issue that had been sitting on me for years. I somehow got caught up in Clark’s elite social life, losing myself along the way. I fell for so many things while participating in other things that diminished people’s character and deprived the starving of food. I wasn’t saying that I was less responsible than my husband, because I wasn’t.

I was ready to take accountability and try to fix anything that I could. When I watched my grandson break down in church, I knew that had much to do with what Clark and I had caused. He wouldn’t even look at me, and that took a part of my heart. Indigo wouldn’t take my calls, and Tania kept her conversation short. Clark and I needed to find a way to fix it. However, Clark owes me an apology for destroying a part of me that I will never get back, and that was my sixteen-year-old mind when he and I first met. He knew exactly what he was doing all those years ago when he saw a young, vulnerable, poor Black girl with a dream for something better.

When I entered the study, I noticed Clark was standing near the fireplace with his back turned to me.

“I’ve been waiting for you,”

his voice low, raspy, much like June.

He slowly turned to face me as his tall, dark frame gave an evil energy. It was so dark, so unforgiving, so empty. He took a swig of his whiskey as he walked over toward the record player. His finger gently lifted the needle as he slowly placed it on the record. When the song began to play, it took me back to that sixteen-year-old girl who fell in love with a man she knew would change her life forever. If only she knew the change wouldn’t be the fairytale she expected.

“That sweet baby blue dress you wore that had always been one of my favorites,”

he muttered.

Clark held his hand out for mine.

“Dance with me?”

Reluctantly, I took his hand. He pulled me in close, and we began swaying to the music.

“I knew that night I would have you forever.”

I cleared my throat.

“Clark, please.”

My breath bounced off his suit back in my face as my breathing picked up. “You,”

I swallowed deeply.

“You destroyed me!”

My voice cracked.

“No, sweetheart, you destroyed yourself. You chased the lifestyle. If it weren’t for me, you would still be sitting in the projects with your drunk mother.”

I tried to pull away, but he gripped me roughly and pulled me back into his arms.

“We don’t run, remember. This is til death, Cynthia. I heard you went to Parkside Cove. Why?”

“Why not? I can go wherever I want. Clark, you don’t own me.”

“But I do.”

Clark was something terrifying. He had found a way to gain power, and he was becoming stronger by the day.

“You slept with Angela. She was seventeen,”

I cried.

“You lied to me about Grace, your own daughter.”

He kissed my forehead. Angela was eighteen, and I told you it was a mistake. Grace had died long ago when we had taken that boy away from her.”

“That boy is your grandson. It wasn’t a ‘we’, it was you. Clark, what happened to you?”

He heckled.

“I have always been this way. The money blinded you. Now, why did you go to Parkside Cove?”

Tears streamed down my face because I felt trapped. This was God’s way of repaying me for all my wrongdoings. Here I was dancing with the Devil and he had a noose around my neck. I knew that Clark would never let me leave because I knew all his dark secrets. He would probably kill me before ever letting me free.

“He’s going to kill you, Clark. He is so broken. He has no forgiveness in his heart, and that alone will be your demise.”

This time, he spun me, letting me go, and I almost fell.

“That nigga can’t touch me. He doesn’t even have a fucking name!”

“But he does,”

I muttered.

Clark’s eyes darkened as he looked at me curiously.

“What are you saying, Cynthia?”

I knew Clark would never try to rectify the situation with our grandson, so I did. It was the least I could do to try to salvage something in his life.

“I had my lawyers fix it. All he has to do is sign the paperwork that I gave him. That trust, the one you thought he would never have access to because you figured your name was on it, has been switched to June Calloway. Clark, fuck you. I wondered why Pastor Black called me the Devil in church today. She was hurt, so hurt, and the look she gave me was one I’ve seen before. It was of a woman who slept with a married man that gave her false hope.”

He tried to come closer, and I backed away.

“Now you’re at the mercy of your grandson. He will be inducted into the Black Prestige; your vote doesn’t matter because the Laureauxs are on my side.”

Clark’s dark skin became pale. He knew that his days of being a tyrant were up. All the money he had invested in June’s trust was no longer his. All he had was the money coming in from the university. Once June is inducted into the Black Prestige, he decides how things will go, and his decision would be far better than the ones Clark had made.