CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Wyld

“What You See Is The Face Of An Angry Man.”

 

Wyld sat on the edge of his bed with the laptop on his knees. His fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard and he was irritated that he couldn’t find a meaning for the ‘Minator’, which Ryan told him to research at the tattoo shop. As hard as he searched nothing he found made much sense and the anger was boiling up inside of him.

Frustration was mounting and then Amelia walked into the room and sat next to him, weighing the mattress down a little to compensate for her 125 pound frame. She looked down at the computer and back at him although he hadn’t bothered to give her eye contact. “What you searching for?” She whispered.

“I’m busy.” His fingers continued to zoom over the keyboard.

Amelia sighed. “Please don’t shut me out, Wyld. I…I wanted to let you know that I care about you and—”

He laughed. “You care about me?” He focused on her. “Is that the reason you don’t want to be my wife?” He frowned.

She played with her red fingernails. “I know what this is about. You’re not use to rejection very much are you?”

He slammed the laptop closed and tossed it on the bed. “So you think this is a game?”

She scooted away, unfamiliar with his brand of anger. If it was in his nature to hit her or not she couldn’t be certain. So she thought it best to back up and offer the man space. “Wyld, I want nothing more than to be your wife. I use to dream about it before I met—”

“Before you what?” He frowned.

Realizing she was about to fuck up and remind him of their drug dealer and the crack head roles in the past she took a deep breath. “I meant to say that I wanted to be your wife before I knew it was even possible.”

“That’s why I still got the ring in my pocket? Because if you wanted to be my wife there should be nothing stopping you.”

“Please don’t—”

“You’re scared to be with me, Amelia.” He exhaled. “I’m not sure why but I believe it has to do with that nigga.”

“That’s not true! I love you and I’m sorry I hurt your feelings but it’s not the right time to make that move. You may not understand now but I want to be right for you, in all the ways you deserve.”

He looked into her eyes. “I’m busy. Bounce.”

“Wyld.”

“Get the fuck out!” He pointed at the door.

Startled because he never spoke to her like that, slowly she rose to her feet and moped toward the exit. With her hand on the gold knob she was about to leave out until he called her name. Just hearing him say each syllable felt refreshing, as he hadn’t bother to speak to her for a week since she publicly rejected him. “Amelia.”

She turned to face him. “Yes, Wyld.”

He sighed heavily. “What you see is the face of an angry man. Of a…a…hurt man.” He exhaled. “This nigga Ryan fucked with my life long enough. He’s preventing me from making the woman I love my wife because you don’t feel safe. And I’m enraged because of it.”

She looked at her bare toes and back at him. “So what…what you gonna do?”

“Kill him.” He said through clenched teeth. “I’m certain of it.”

Tears fell from her eyes and she stroked them away. “I love you and you don’t have to say it back because I know how you feel. And that you’re angry with me. I…I just want you to know that I believe we will get past this. Together.” She trudged out the door.

When she disappeared he refocused on the Internet and after a few letter changes finally came upon the word MINOTAUR, which was a character within Greek mythology. The story was long but the gist was quite simple. Minotaur was the son of Pasiphae, wife of King Minos of Crete.

When Pasiphae cheated on her husband and slept with a bull, resulting in a half human half bull child, King Minos was embarrassed. To hide his shame he sent Minotaur to a secret chamber. And frequently Minos would direct his enemies to the chamber to be eaten. Basically he was getting the child he hated to do his dirty work.

Wyld sat back and looked out into the room. He found a few more articles on the story but for the life of him he couldn’t understand what the Greek myth had to do with him and Ryan acting like a stone cold bitch.

“What the fuck you trying to say nigga?” He said out loud. “What do you want me to know?”

Confused he rose and said, “I have to find this bitch E.M. was talking about. And now!”

 

 

After speaking to a few people he finally located Diane’s address. She lived in a run down tenement in the worst part of East Baltimore. It was almost impossible to locate her because she moved five times since Wyld and his cousins were kids. What shook Wyld to the core was that when he saw her he remembered her and there was something about the unrecalled history that scared him.

E.M. was also on point about Diane’s personality because when she flung her apartment door open she was rude as possible. “Diane, you probably don’t remember me but—”

“How’d you get my address, nigga?” she looked out into the hallway and back at him. “Who told you where I lived?’

“I just want to talk to you about—”

“I gave them what they wanted.” She pointed at him. “I never flinched when they asked me so why are you here now? Trying to ruin my life. Trying to tell people about me?”

Wyld scratched his scalp and placed one hand on his hip as he looked down and back at her. He was hoping for the right words to get the information he needed but his patience was thin. “Listen, I don’t know what you talking about. If you can give me more information I would—”

“We were high! All of us and I paid for it the worst way a mother should.” She cried. And they were big tears, the kind that built up over a lifetime and only releasing with the right words. “Now I’m begging you, Wyld, to please leave and never return to my home again.”

She even knew his name.

“I’m not trying to be disrespectful. I remember you but not really and all I want is a little information. And some help with the past. Some shit kicked off with my cousin and I’m trying to find out why. Please help me.”

“I said get away from my door!” She frowned.

She tried to slam it shut but Wyld extended his hand and used his bicep muscle to prevent her from shutting him out. “Lady, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck—”

“What you say, my nigga?” A big light skinned man asked stepping out of the apartment, followed by an even lighter one. His name was Emilio.

That didn’t matter.

All that was important was that each had .45 handguns in their grasps aiming in Wyld’s direction.

Realizing he pushed too far he raised his arms up slowly and backed down the stairs. “It’s cool, no beef from me.” His palms remained with the white side up all the way to his car.

The men disappeared back into the building.

Although well within his right, he wasn’t angry, just more intrigued than ever. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket he made a call. “Bosh, I need you to meet with me about something. Don’t worry about the block right now. This is more pressing.”