Page 50 of The Killer Cupcake (Poison Cherry #3)

" H ey," Matteo called out as he stepped into the brownstone, closing the door against the evening chill. "José home?"

Debbie's client was still counting out bills when Junior spotted his father. The boy took off on wobbly legs, arms outstretched, squealing "Papa!" Matteo scooped him up in one smooth motion, tossing him gently in the air.

The client—Mrs. Washington from Harlem—kept her eyes down as she handed over the money, but Debbie caught the sideways glances she threw at Matteo.

There was gossip amongst women who were once her childhood friends.

People whispered about whose son Junior really was.

Debbie walked her to the door, shoving the bills deep into her apron pocket and giving her client a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

She locked the door. “Junior! I told you about calling him Papa. We said he is Matteo.”

Matteo grinned. “You did well, son.”

Debbie shook her head and smiled, too. Then her smile faded.

She nervously rubbed her hands together.

"Thank you for coming so fast," she said once they were alone.

The downstairs was her domain—where she pressed hair and cooked meals, keeping their life respectable.

Upstairs was where the bedrooms were; that was a different territory.

"Had some business to handle first." Matteo shifted Junior to his hip as the boy reached for his mama. "You said emergency. Everything okay?"

Debbie kissed her son's forehead, avoiding Matteo's searching gaze. "How's Carmelo?"

"Same. Angry. Spending all his time behind closed doors with Pa, planning God knows what." His jaw tightened. "They're freezing me out. My Vegas plans, everything. I think Carmelo's undermining me, but..." He shook his head. "Something's brewing. I can feel it."

She nodded, her stomach churning. "Yeah. Something is. I spoke to Big Mama."

"And?"

"There's a wedding tomorrow."

Matteo's eyes narrowed. "Whose wedding?"

"Stay calm, Matteo."

"Whose wedding, Debbie?" His voice had gone dangerously quiet.

She exhaled, the lie crumbling. "Okay. I didn't talk to Big Mama.

I've known for a week." The words tumbled out faster now.

"Auntie Brenda and Uncle Henry are already in Butts.

Mom is sick with one of her headaches again, so Pa is staying here to keep an eye on things and take care of her.

The wedding—it's Kathy's. She's marrying Ely. "

Matteo went utterly still, Junior squirming in his rigid arms. His mouth opened, closed, and no sound came out.

“Kathy told the family she didn't want me there." Debbie's voice broke as tears spilled over. "She's getting married, and I can’t even go. She doesn’t answer my letters, she doesn’t take my calls. Big Mama keeps asking me what I’ve done. And I can’t tell anybody. I couldn’t even tell you about the wedding.

After everything I've done to her, I had to at least honor that one wish?—"

Matteo pulled her against him, Junior sandwiched between them, the boy's small hands patting his mother's wet cheeks.

"Shh, it's okay." He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I understand why you didn't tell me. I do."

"What about Melo?" she whispered against his chest. "Will you tell him?"

"No." His voice was firm. "I'm done standing between them. Done being caught in their war. You neither. My focus is on you and Junior now." He tightened his hold on them both. "I just pray Kathy knows what she's doing. For her sake. For that poor bastard Ely's sake."

"Why?"

"Because my brother..." Matteo's voice went hollow. "He's not going to stop, Debs. And she just signed that man's death warrant."

Travelers Rest Church of God, Butts, Mississippi - 1952

The little shotgun church sat proud despite its peeling white paint, its narrow frame packed tight with everyone who mattered in Butts' colored community.

Morning light streamed through the stained-glass windows.

It caught dust motes that danced above the congregation like blessings.

Someone had strung white sheets from the rafters and gathered wildflowers—black-eyed Susans and Queen Anne's lace—from the roadside ditches, transforming the humble space into something almost magical.

Big Mama sat front and center in her wheelchair, dressed in her best navy dress with the pearl buttons, her Bible clutched in her lap.

An amputee who had lost both feet, and one leg was cut up to the knee, she was still a force of pride and strength for the community of Butt’s.

Behind her, the wooden pews groaned under the weight of sharecroppers in their Sunday clothes—men in their only suits that smelled of mothballs, women in dresses they'd pressed with irons heated on wood stoves.

Henry Freeman stood rigid in his good black suit, jaw set like granite, waiting for Kathy outside the sanctuary.

At the same time, Brenda dabbed at her eyes with one of her embroidered handkerchiefs, sitting next to Big Mama and four of her sisters, minus Janey, who had traveled in for the wedding.

The entire family arrived from different states a week ago, and Henry had covered their travel expenses and all necessary costs.

Henry was so proud that he couldn’t stop passing out cigars.

Today, Henry's eyes held something softer than his pride or stubborn ego. Today, he was Daddy again as he waited for Kathy.

She came out from a side door in all white, and she was more beautiful than he could have imagined.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said.

Tears slipped from Henry’s eyes. “My baby girl. all grown up.”

“Yes, Daddy. And I’m getting married today,” Kathy said in tears. He went to her and hugged her with pride. She held on to him and released her tears of relief and joy, tears of joy at having her father’s love again, pure and unrestrained.

“I knew this day would come,” Henry said. “I don’t pray for much, Kathy, but I prayed every day since I sent you here for this day to come. For me to know that you will be loved and safe, baby. That’s all I ever wanted. It’s all any father ever wants.”

“I am Daddy. I’m going to be happy because of you,” she reached up and brushed away his tears. “Don’t blame yourself, Daddy. Coming to Butts was good for me. I understand life now. I’m ready to live it with a man who is just as special as my Daddy.”

Henry nodded, and more tears welled. Kathy had spent all night crying over the upcoming nuptials, while burning all of Carmelo’s letters. She had her family back, and Carmelo had his. She told herself that this was what God had always wanted.

The organ began to play.

Sister Flora gave Kathy her freshly picked bouquet.

She accepted it with pride. Henry took her arm with pride.

The doors opened. Just as they did, a flash of a thought went through Kathy’s mind.

Carmelo was doing the same routine two years ago in a big Cathedral church with another woman.

She closed her eyes and banished him from her thoughts.

The door opened, and she looked into the eyes of her future husband, Ely.

Ely's family filled the right side—his mother weeping openly with joy, his father standing proud despite the arthritis that bent his spine. They'd picked cotton alongside the Freemans for generations, and now their families would be joined by more than just hardship.

Kathy walked down the aisle with her father and was handed over to Ely, who was grinning as well. She winked at him.

Reverend Daniels cleared his throat, his voice rolling out rich and deep: "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses..."

Kathy stood in her auntie Izzy’s altered wedding dress, the ivory silk yellowed with age but still beautiful.

Every Elliot sister, except the oldest, Mae, Brenda, Betsie, and the other one, Everlene, who had disappeared into Oregon and a life of passing, was present.

Her hands trembled slightly as she held the small bouquet of field flowers.

Beside her, Ely looked like a man who'd won a prize he'd never dared dream of claiming, his face shining with something between joy and disbelief.

The reverend continued, but Kathy heard only the blood rushing in her ears, felt only the weight of the secret growing inside her uterus, and the terrible kindness of the man who was about to pledge his life to her, knowing precisely what burdens she carried.

" Ciao , where have you been?" Carmelo asked as Matteo came inside and closed the door.

"Oh, had to stop by and see Debbie and Junior," Matteo said. “Junior is calling me Papa like I taught him. Pisses Debbie off. So I stayed the night with them. Decided to come home, get Nino, and take him to the park before I had to put in work. Where is he?"

"At the center," Carmelo said and dropped into the chair nearest the sofa.

Matteo froze.

"What? You and I agreed that he isn't going to be put in any institution! Who took him there? Why? When!"

"Calm down," Carmelo said. "It's only for a few hours. Pa and I agreed that it would do him good to be around others like him."

"Are you fucking out of your mind? People like him ? Like what, Melo? Where is Pa?" Matteo turned to head to his office. “Fuck if I let him get away with this shit!”

"Gone. He left me to deliver the message," Carmelo said.

Matteo stopped. He looked back at the mocking smile on his brother’s face and the fury in his brother's eyes. He didn't understand it. He paused. "Who are you angry at? Me? Is that what this is? You blame me for Kathy?"

"You let her run from me. Let her escape. Let her play with me for two days, and didn't give me a fighting chance to make things right with her. You did that, big brother."

"Me? You were shitting your drawers and drooling all over the place. I brought her back to you to save your life!"

"NO!" Carmelo stood up. "You brought her back to me to save your deal. To make the Marcellos happy. To get Vegas so you and Debbie can live happily ever after. You didn't give a shit about me losing Kathy!"

Matteo's eyes stretched wide. "What have you done?"

Carmelo's smile turned wicked. "I killed it. All that work and negotiating you were doing with Pa and the Marcellos. Investing in Vegas. You’re not moving down there to run the investment. It’s dead. If there is no me and Kathy, there is no you and Debbie."

Matteo charged at his brother. His fury exploded hotter than dynamite.

He punched him first and then threw him into the door.

Matteo grabbed him by the throat and started choking him.

Carmelo didn't fight back. He just smiled as he choked, wanting to die.

So enraged at the laughter Matteo could see in Carmelo's eyes, he drew his pocket knife and put it up against Carmelo's throat instead.

"You're fucking with my family! MY LIFE! For what? For that demon who killed our mother? You turned on me!"

Carmelo shrugged. "If I can't have Kathy, you can't have Debbie! That’s the way life works. We are brothers. The same.”

Matteo stepped back, and Carmelo dropped. His neck bleeding from the tiny cut the knife left. He choked for air.

In tears, Matteo shook his head. "I was going to spare you. Going to protect you. Even though nothing I do or have done for you, Melo, is ever good enough. So fuck ya. Kathy is getting married today."

Carmelo's head shot up. "Fucking liar! Fucking liar!"

"I'm not lying. Call your contacts. Call Bonano. She's marrying Ely."

"You're lying!" Carmelo kicked his feet and shouted.

"Already done. And let me tell you, I'm not losing Debbie. She's mine. She loves me, and only me. I'm the only man she ever let touch her. Wonder what Kathy is going to be doing for Ely tonight."

Carmelo launched himself up from the floor and charged Matteo, who ducked and swiped his blade across Carmelo's arm. Carmelo dropped in pain and gripped his bleeding arm.

Matteo wiped his brother's blood on his shirt. He folded his knife. "That shit that happened in Memphis? That's your one and only, little bro. I'll fucking carve you like a Christmas turkey if you ever come at me again with your fist, or with business.” He then turned and stormed out.

Carmelo was left sitting on the floor in pain and agony, not from the wound to his neck or arm, but to the one in his heart. He dropped back on the floor, turned on his side, and folded inward. He lay there dying.