within the filth of three sewage-treatment tanker trucks. On the screen, two uniformed officials wearing proud smiles stood behind a pallet stacked with bundled kilos. A Republican senator credited the President’s new wall, saying that it had plugged all the cracks in the border, forcing illegal immigrants and drug smugglers into riskier methods. Several law enforcement experts patted themselves on the back and speculated about the damage this latest blow had done to the Mexican and South American cartels.
Tuesday only gave CNN forty-five seconds of her attention before she switched to Bravo and caught up with the petty drama between NeNe Leaks and Candi Burress.
At the time, she couldn’t imagine how that news story was about to change the lives of her entire family.
Chapter Five
Tuesday was thirty-five minutes into her favorite reality show when she heard Marcus approaching from the hall. She quickly shut off the TV and killed the lamp on her nightstand.
He entered their two-thousand-square foot master bedroom to find all the lights out. Tuesday was curled up on their custom ultra-king-sized bed with her back to him.
She ignored him when he called her name. Tuesday knew it was a childish game. It was just like the one Danielle had just played with her, but still, she was mad at him. As a woman she felt she had the God-given right to aggravate her man.
Marcus slid beneath the sheets and closed the distance between them. Tuesday didn’t respond to the feel of his warm body against hers. When he draped his big muscular arm around her, Tuesday didn’t move.
“Baby listen,” his voice was a bass-filled whisper right at her ear. “Don’t insult my intelligence by faking like you sleep and I won’t keep insulting yours by faking like nothing’s wrong.”
Tuesday sucked her teeth. It was the only acknowledgement she was willing to give.
He said, “I been trippin’ lately because I gotta meeting coming up and I’m really not looking forward to it.”
Tuesday had expected something much worse than some boring meeting like the one she skipped out on. “Just send Brandon in your place.”
“Can’t. It’s something I have to deal with in person.”
Tuesday turned on him. Even in the gloom the worry could be seen in her gray-green eyes. Without needing to be told, she already knew what type of meeting this was and why he had been sweating it. He was not being called to attend as Marcus King; this was a meeting for Sebastian Caine.
“Who’s calling this sit-down?”
“The type of people you can’t say no to.” He didn’t elaborate and Tuesday didn’t need him to. As a rule, he had never done business in person, so anyone who could demand the presence of Sebastian Caine was definitely somebody to be feared.
“But I still don’t know why they want you. You’ve been through with that life.” Her last statement had the ring of a question just in case there was something Marcus wasn’t telling her.
“I’ve been completely legit for years but I’m also connected to shit you’re never really out of. I still have dues I have to pay and obligations I have to meet.”
She asked, “Everything gone be okay?”
“Yeah. Just a couple of people gone be there I ain’t never want to see again. That’s all.”
Tuesday appreciated the explanation, but knew there was more. She had watched her husband stress over something for months and now he was trying to convince her that this meeting was nothing to stress over. “If this ain’t no big deal then why you been so down lately?”
Marcus rolled onto his back, expelled a heavy breath. “You’ve never heard of Rene Rodriguez—I know it without having to ask. He’s a Mexican immigrant who been living in San Antonio since the sixties, and on the low is one of the richest muthafuckas in America. Rene had control of the border towns in Texas and been responsible for half the product coming up from Mexico since the early eighties.
“When I was twenty-two, I was down there working for his son. I was just a goon but, for whatever reason, the old man took a shine to me. After his son died, Rene became like a father to me—and this was back when a lot of Latinos wasn’t fucking with blacks like that. You never wondered how a regular nigga like me was able to get plugged on that level? Rene was my connect—later on, he gave me his blessing to start my own thing.”
Tuesday was fascinated because Marcus never talked about his past. Most of what she knew about Sebastian Caine was centered around myths that circulated through the hood, despite the fact that they slept in the same bed and were raising two children together.
She started to piece things together for herself. “Rene’s got to be pretty old by now. He’s dying. That’s what this whole thing is about?”
Marcus rewarded her correct assessment with a brief smile. “Stage four liver cancer—he doesn’t have long. A group of us have to discuss how things are gonna shake out after he’s gone. I also have to go pay my respects.”
Tuesday was hungry for more but knew that even this small scrap of information was like a buffet when coming from him. It still put her at ease somewhat since she could now understand his concerns.
She asked, “When do you have to go?”
“Next week. I’m leaving on Wednesday.”
Tuesday moved closer to him. Her eyes were gray and serious when she said, “Thank you for telling me.”
He pulled back the silky black hair that hung to conceal part of her face. “Bae, I’m wrong for not telling you sooner. Even with the rings and kids, I know sometimes it just feel like we’re playing family. But in order for our thing to be real, we have to let each other in.”
Marcus was bathed in the violet glow that filtered into the window, falling across their bed. He stared at her through coffee-colored eyes with thick brows. His neatly-trimmed goatee framed pink juicy lips.
Tuesday didn’t know at what point she started kissing them. She just found herself on top of Marcus, pulling off his wifebeater. He had a broad chest from years of lifting weights which Tuesday covered with light kisses.
He stopped her as she pecked her way down his eight-pack abs. “If you gone hook me up, do it right.”
Tuesday looked up at him. “What’cho mean?”
“I’m just sayin’ if you gone bless me, bless me with the real shit. Don’t shortchange me.”
Tuesday smirked. “Nigga, I know you ain’t sayin’ my head done got whack?”
“Not whack because you better than most when you ain’t even trying. But you ain’t been giving me yo’ best either. Lately you ain’t been goin’ hard.”
Tuesday pretended like she didn’t know what he was talking about when she actually did. The distance between them had Tuesday capping him off more out of obligation than genuine enthusiasm. She didn’t notice the drop-off in her performance but he obviously had.
“Or maybe you was just saving your best tongue work for yo’ girl?”
That came out of left field and caught Tuesday totally off guard. Her eyes went buck but she caught herself before she gave away too much. “Boy, what is you talkin’ bout?”
Marcus gave her a bitch please look. “You really gone sit here and do that?
“At first I ain’t give a fuck cause I figure it was just you havin’ some fun, relieving some stress. But now it’s affecting shit at work and at home. You need to shut that shit down like yesterday.”
Tuesday didn’t know why she was so surprised that Marcus knew about Shaun; since she had known him he made it his business to know about everything that happened around him. She didn’t think he actually had people following her but