A Commitment to Love, Book 3 (11 page)

“This is important to me.”

I turned to him. “Why? And before you answer that, why would I care if it was important to you?”

“Because I’m your father. Don’t you want to know where your people came from?”

“You were born in London?”

He nodded. “The great Bells of St Mary-le-Bow Church are known as Bow Bells. If you’re born, when they rang, then you’re considered a Cockney.”

“A Cockney?”

“The name came from countryside people who thought that Londoners were ignorant, and knew nothing about country ways.”

“But why the term Cockney?”

“In Middle English it means a deformed egg.”

“And you’re a deformed egg?”

“No. A Cockney. The church had been destroyed by a German bomb during the Blitz in ’41. The bells crashed to the ground. Restoration began in 1956. The bells resumed ringing in ’61.”

“When were you born?”

“Around then.”

“You can tell me an elaborate story about bells and dragons, but you can’t say the year you were born?”

“There’s things about my childhood I think about, and then there are things that I just don’t care to discuss.”

“Your birth year is one of them?”

“Yes.”

“Will I be meeting my grandmother and grandfather?”

“No.”

“When we were kids, Vivian said you grew up in Alabama. Apparently, you were a young kid of old parents, who passed away right as you started college.”

“Now what do you think?” he asked.

“It’s all a lie.”

“Like I always say, you’re the smart one.”

“Why can’t I see your parents?”

“My father’s dead.”

“How? Old age?”

“No.” He raised his hands and flexed his fingers. “From my own bare hands. That’s actually a story I like to tell, but I doubt that’s something you want to hear.”

He killed his father. Awesome. Just great.

I pretended like it didn’t affect me. “What about my grandmother?”

“She’s a drunk in Hackney, probably hoping bottles can make her forget how much of a devil she is. She used to box. That says a lot about her.”

“It says she was empowered.”

“No, it says she would do anything for a pound. When she’d broken too many fingers, ribs, and cracked her jaw, she made me bare-knuckle fight on cobbled front yards, at the age of ten. If I lost, she’d beat me the whole way home. I went up against men, so you can imagine how many times I got knocked into the sidewalk as we headed back to the house.”

I parted my lips, but had nothing to say.

“Don’t look so shocked. With my sense of humor, there’s no way I came from a family of love. She taught me how to take a beating. By my teen years, I knocked them all out. Got my nickname, Benny, from the Lamb and Flag pub’s back room. People used to call that room the Bucket of Blood.”

“You’re name isn’t Benjamin?”

“No.”

“Then why did the people call you Benny?”

“After Benny Lynch, this Scottish professional boxer back in my day. He was considered one of the best below the lightweight division.”

“What’s your real name?”

“Benny.”

“But you said—”

“It’s Benny.”

“O-kay.” I chewed the inside of my cheek a little from nervousness. “So when was the last time you saw your mother?”

“My last fight.”

“Why your last one?”

“My father had been a great fighter himself. That’s how we ate. All of us boxed in some way, worked for a gang, knocked out a group of kids for a hassled owner. We did things with our hands that others wouldn’t. By thirteen, I stopped going to school, but I continued to read. You know how I’ve always told you how books are important?”

“Yes. You would always say that books help you escape.”

“Well, the owner of this one pub thought it would be entertaining to have a father and son match. The two greats. Young generation against the old and mature.”

“You bare-knuckle fought your father?”

His jaw twitched. “I killed him in that ring. Punched him for every crude remark, every time he made me do all the things I didn’t like. I hit him until blood came, and he begged me to stop. I kept on. He prayed and cried and said he loved me and I hit him. His bloodied-teeth flew from his mouth with each pound. He was pulp. He lay on the ground, and there was nothing but silence in the whole room. All those drunks with their money-filled hands in the air, just stood there as if shocked. All of their mouths were open and their eyes wide in fear.”

Benny laughed. “My dad lay on the ground, passed out probably. And then came the kicker. I wrapped my hands around his throat, only sixteen years old. No one stopped me. I choked him right there. I don’t know why they didn’t do anything. Maybe they were shocked. Or perhaps they wanted to see death as much as me. But I killed him right there. Mom stood by and just looked scared.”

A chilly quiet filled the car, then his words sliced the air. “I fled London. Scar helped.”

“You knew him back then?”

“Yes. We hit Italy, got into some foul things, and earned the attention of evil men, ones like Chase’s father.”

Just the mention of Chase caused a jolt of pain to burst through my heart.

Benny continued. “Sometimes I come home to visit London, and think to myself, ‘
This
is the time I’ll kill her. This is the trip when I take her alcohol-scented breath away.’ But then I don’t. For some reason, I always let her live. I’m just a pussy cat in that way.”

Yes. A rabid pussy cat with infected claws.

A cold shiver ran up my back. I had to shake the fear away, and even then I knew it remained inside of me.

Benny blew out a long breath and yelled, “God that feels good!”

I jumped and grabbed the door handle as if leaping out of a moving car would save me.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he said. “It’s just been so hard to pretend. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“I’ve lied for years. No one really knows me, besides your mother, and even then I have to be guarded. She could’ve been a psychologist in her previous life. She has a way of dissecting a person’s head.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, your mom. She’s a killer in her own right.”

I slumped into the back of my seat. “Mom?”

“You two never got close. That’s always been a shame. Two strangers living in the same house.”

“It always felt like she was avoiding me.”

“She probably was. She never had a mother. That woman left one night, and never came back to deal with her or your aunts. They sort of raised themselves. People said she overdosed in an alley.”

I’d heard something similar, mumbled by my aunts. There was a neighbor lady that ended up taking care of them. That was the woman Troy and I referred to as Grandmother. “Why do say Mom is a killer in her own right? We never got close, but she couldn’t have hid that from me.”

“This is the moment of truth, right?”

“As long as the truth doesn’t come with a dead body.”

“I won’t be dangling bodies around you anymore.”

“Is that promise?”

“It’s a strong wish.”

“I like clear promises.”

“I like everyone to do as I say and not fall out of line.”

Whatever that means.

“Anyway, back to Sophia. Maybe I’m using the word kill lightly. Your mother destroys things with her words. She’s never shot a gun or sliced through the top layer of skin, or hacked away at the plump fat and tight muscle of a crying man until he—”

“I get it.” My heart hammered in my head.

Could someone call this guy a doctor?

“Sorry,” he said. “What I’m trying to say is that your mother has never killed someone by her own hands, but she’s put many people into the path of death for many years. And even worse, she’s a prober. She probes with her words, rummaging through your secrets and labeling all of your weaknesses. You see what I mean?”

You’re crazy. And if I understood your point, I would be crazy, too.

I tossed him a skeptical look. “So what you’re saying is that she’s a manipulative bitch?”

“Basically.”

“I knew that, but being a manipulative bitch doesn’t make her a murderer.”

“Trust me. It does.”

“Benny, what is this all about?” I motioned at us in the car. “Why are you doing this? Why are Troy and Vivian even with you?”

“Listen. This is what the trip is about, getting you all together and really revealing who I am. Troy will accept me. Vivian will still need lies. I was too soft with her. But you,” he bobbed his head, “you understand pain. Every time you’re faced with the worst, you use your head.”

“I’m not as strong as you think.”

“You are. I’ve watched you from baby to woman. The shit you’ve seen …” He shook his head. “London is about learning who I am and being less scared of me.”

“I think that I’ve learned enough about you this year. Maybe, you should wait till next year for the rest.”

He chuckled. “You’ve always been good for a good counter that had a funny jab. However, I wish I could wait till next year, but I can’t. No one’s promised next year.” He leaned back in the seat and went silent. “Who knows, we all could be dead next year.”

What the fuck? What does that mean? He has me so much on edge that I’m dissecting everything he says.

“Oh well.” He clapped.

I jumped again.

“I have so many places I want to take you. Guess where we’re going tomorrow.”

I braced myself. “I have no idea.”

“The famous Jack the Ripper London tour.”

I waved him away. “That’s not exactly where I want to be right now.”

“I’ve always wanted to do it. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Jasmine, really? I’m your father.”

“I wish you would stop saying that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve pretended to be my friend’s dad for all these years, and now you want to declare over and over that you’re my father? Let’s calm down a bit.”

“I’m your father and I want to make up for lost time.”

“I feel like you’ve made up enough.”

“Oh no, Jasmine, I’ve just begun.” And then he tossed me a wicked smile, the one that had started becoming a main feature of all of my nightmares. “The cuisine here is excellent.”

I was sickened to admit it, but my mind did perk up a bit. If I had to move on and get away from Chase’s love, I damn sure planned to stuff my mouth with quality food. “I’m not big on British food. What’s good here?”

“I’ve got a cook at the flat that can serve you a Chelsea Bun that will make you burn your US passport and move here.”

“All that for a bun?”

“Picture it. Rich dough. Homemade. Drenched in cinnamon. Lemon zest and other sweet spices are rolled into the square spirals. There’s a succulent filling—brown sugar and dried mixed fruit. The glaze is sugared milk.”

“Meh.”

“This is what the royals ate in the 1700s.”

“Slavery was also big in the 1700s. Excuse me, if I’m not eager to learn from the leaders of my past.”

He ignored the comment. “Street food is good here. Everything from all over the world. You get the best Turkish kebabs on Green Lanes. You hate Chinese, but there’s some good ones on Gerard Street in Soho. If you get an aching for Caribbean food, I’ve got a spot on Electric Avenue.”

“That name sounds familiar.”

“What name?”

“Electric Avenue.”

“It was a bad 80’s song about the riots there.”

“Umm … all right.”

“Brick Lane will give you the best curry—”

“Uh,” I held up my hand, “I think I got it. Basically, I’ll be gaining twenty pounds here. Sounds like a plan. I’m going to drink and eat the whole trip.”

“You sound like your sister. She lights a joint before breakfast.” He shook his head. “That’s the last thing she needs. Her head is already gone.” He turned to me so quick, my nerves flared on edge. “By the way, I need help with that.”

“What?”

“Troy and Vivian.”

“What about them?”

“Let’s not pretend like they’re not having sex right under our noses.”

Hey, buddy, can we keep the vomit-inducing down to a three topic minimum?

I gulped in my instant disgust. “Look, I try to forget about that particular part of them, all the time.”

“Vivian has to get over this. You understand, right?”

Get over it? Do you realize how long they’ve loved each other?

Ever since we were young, Troy had a way of getting Vivian to agree to anything. She used to do all of his homework in middle school, although she claimed it was tutoring. When he ran away from home, she hid him in her bedroom for a whole week and didn’t even tell me he was there. Four years ago, she’d even let him borrow her car. The same car that was impounded when he was caught inside of it with our brother, Neil, who happened to have several pounds of drugs in a duffle bag in the backseat. Troy hadn’t known about the drugs, but it had been irresponsible letting Neil in Vivian’s car in the first place.