Skull Island Read online

  Mason glared. “But this is going too far now,” Mason said.

  “As far as I went when you called on me to plant a bomb in Banks’ pilot friend’s toilet so that you could—”

  “I get all that,” Mason interrupted. “You got the intel on both of us. So what you want? Money?”

  He shook his head. “That’s the trouble with American’s. You think all debts can be paid with cash.”

  The muscles in Mason’s arms twitched.

  “We have a table full of food waiting.” Whoyawanmetabe responded.

  He touched both of them lightly on their arms and it was as if a painful electrical current ran through their bodies. They noticed something about him in the short time. He always liked to touch and smell things, as if doing so made them realer.

  “Lets eat.” Whoyawanmetabe said. “The time for understanding is near.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The sky roof was open in the dining room, allowing the moonlight to shimmer against the Wales’, Lou’s and Whoyawanmetabe along with his crew, as they sat around the dinner table. With the Nunez family, the people charged with caring for the land, missing in action, the meal was not as elaborate as it had been in the past. However, Bet and Jersey did their best to make rice, beans, and flavored lamb to compliment whatever tragedy they knew was about to befall them.

  The night called the best guests for the evening, including Banks, Mason, Jersey, Bet, Joey, Spacey, Minnie, Howard, Derrick, Patterson, Arlyndo and Shay. Along with the master of ceremonies, Whoyawanmetabe.

  All were dressed in white.

  As the candles held in candelabras flickered in the background, Whoyawanmetabe took the moment to wipe the corners of his mouth with a cream linen napkin, embroidered with the words THE WALES in gold. Although Banks occupied the head of the table, Whoyawanmetabe sat on the far opposite end of him.

  Who was in charge?

  The people wanted to know.

  Everyone was silent as they watched Whoyawanmetabe pat the corners of his mouth repeatedly, despite not a food particle being upon his lips.

  “Where I grew up, it was always about culture and family.” He dropped the napkin into his lap. His accent a thing of the past. “So much so, that when we—”

  “Where’s your accent now?” Mason interrupted, drilling at his teeth with a toothpick. “Huh?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s just that sometimes you Jamaican, sometimes you British.” The vein in Mason’s neck bubbled with rage. “So tell me, who the fuck is you now? I mean really? You gotta pick a country or you a traitor if you ask me.”

  Banks’ jaw twitched. One of the reasons he and Mason stayed at odds was because he didn’t understand the importance of falling the fuck back and saying less. The man was intent on rattling the loose cages of lions.

  Whoyawanmetabe grinned. “I’m fluent in over twenty languages. And although I am Jamaican, I spent my teenage years in London. So, forgive me if I revolve back and forth, I’ve earned the right.”

  Mason shifted a little in his seat and forked some rice into his mouth, despite not being hungry.

  “I understand that you’re anxious, but I’m a guest.” Whoyawanmetabe continued. “And it is important to humor guests a little. So I urge you to fall back. It will be better for your health.”

  Catching the threat, Mason bit at the skin inside his cheek, tasting his own blood in the process.

  “When I was coming up, it was just me, my mother and my aunt. Between the two of them they made sure I didn’t want for anything.” Whoyawanmetabe sat back in his seat, and grabbed his crystal and gold goblet filled with wine. “Now my mother was an adamant gardener but it was my aunt who inspired happiness. Whenever there was a party, they would come from all over my country, just to see her. The woman was a born star, kicking her thick legs like a ballerina, flaring her arms like a composer in an opera…my aunt was simply amazing.” His eyes grew large with excitement and for the moment he resembled a madman. Taking a deep breath he settled down. “And I always wondered one thing.”

  Banks shifted in his seat. The man’s purpose for being there was near; he felt it in his heart.

  “What would have happened if cameras had been following her at all times?” He sat up excitedly, as if finally all had been revealed. “Like on these stupid shows, except this time they would showcase someone worthy of the attention.”

  “I don’t get it,” Mason said. “Come harder.”

  “I want my cameras to follow both of your families.” His smile was so wide and ridiculous, it was impossible to tell if he was being forthcoming or not. “I think this will be—”

  “We not sitting in front of no fucking cameras,” Mason said, his lips pinched together in a tight line. A firm fist slamming down on the table, rattling the crystal plates.

  Banks touched Mason’s arm before focusing on Whoyawanmetabe. “Listen…we appreciate everything you did for us back in Baltimore. We do. But we have a lot going on right now. A lot of shit has happened that we haven’t come to terms with yet.” He looked at Bet, whose face was as red as wine. “My son just died. My daughter was found in a ditch and I…I guess…we need to settle down a little first. As a family. Alone.”

  Minnie’s head hung low and Shay rubbed her back softly.

  “The last thing I want to do is subject them to any more pain right now,” Banks continued.

  “I understand,” Whoyawanmetabe said with an extended hand. “I do. But you will do what I’m asking, or else your family will get even smaller.” He smiled brightly. “So how about we talk about this again, what do you say, in about two days from now?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lying on her side, in her bedroom, Bet’s gaze fell on a magnificent painting of a happy black family on an island. It was acquired well before she met Banks, as she was a connoisseur of sorts when it came to procuring art. In a sense, she wondered if loving the portrayal so much was the reason she was on an island with her family right now.

  The serenity of it all almost looked the same.

  Did she pull this lifestyle into her existence?

  But what about the happy part?

  She’d lost a son, her marriage was in turmoil and Whoyawanmetabe wanted something that couldn’t be placed into words. All she wanted was to close her eyes and sleep her life away. Not even the open windows, bringing with it the sound of the ocean washing up on the beach could quiet her wild thoughts.

  “How are you?” Banks asked, his voice a soft whisper.

  Bet turned around and smiled when she saw Banks standing in the doorway. He walked further into the room, crawled up behind her and kissed the back of her neck.

  Trying to relax, he took a deep breath and exhaled the warmth brushing up against her nape.

  “I’m fine,” she sighed. “I just…I just…never mind.”

  Banks kissed her neck again. Normally harder on Bet, believing her to be weak, he was trying to allow her the space she needed to grieve.

  About Harris.

  And about the stranger.

  “I know what you’re going through, Bet and you’re allowed to feel some kind of way. All this shit is…I mean…it’s fucked up.”

  There was a knock at the door, destroying the moment like a hammer to a framed photo. “Come in,” Bet said secretly wishing whoever there would disappear, so that she could have the rare moment alone with her husband.

  It didn’t happen.

  The door opened and Shay appeared on the other side. Her presence on the island was definitely awkward. For starters, Banks had killed her father Stretch, who was also the biological father of all the Wales children.

  When Banks and Bet decided to have kids, it was important that they find a man who resembled Banks, and Stretch was it. However, after the war with the Lou’s kicked off, it was apparent that the reason for Banks murdering Stretch was a combination of him betraying Banks, by letting the secret go that he was the father of his kids and the weakness he displayed when
stress wore him down.

  And then there was Shay, the biological sister to all of Banks’ kids as well as Harris’ girlfriend. Banks had no idea that Harris would fall for Shay as a lover but it made sense, they spent too much time in the house together. When they finally learned that they were siblings, they wanted the bond still, while Banks was intent on destroying it.

  After all, they were sister and brother.

  And now with Harris murdered in prison, it meant Shay was alone. And he and his wife would be forced to take care of her.

  “What is it, Shay?” Banks asked.

  She wiped her wild curly brown hair out of her face. “I just wanted to know if I could get you two anything?”

  Bet smiled and turned around, her body now facing Banks. “I’m fine, honey. But thank you anyway.”

  Shay nodded and walked out, closing the door behind herself.

  “Banks, why is she here? We owe her nothing.”

  “You know why she’s here.” He paused, thinking about Stretch’s death in his mind. “Her entire family’s gone and she is the sister to our children. Ain’t leave me much choice. Anyway, I’m more concerned about you right now.”

  She tilted her head. “I thought you never liked me to talk about my feelings. I thought—”

  “I know you cry every night, Bet. And I, I understand. Harris is, he’s…”

  “Dead,” she whispered completing his sentence. “It’s hard for you to say he’s gone too?”

  “It is.” He admitted. “Sometimes.” He thought about his face and all the things he wanted to say. “I know you can’t grieve right now, but I promise, I will get him out of our house. I just need to figure out what he wants first.”

  “But he told you already. Some stupid documentary.”

  “I don’t believe him.” He touched the side of her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her light cheek reddened at his caress. When Banks first left the island, he was cold and aloof but now he seemed attentive and to be honest she didn’t know how to accept the change. “I have a plan that will—”

  “I want this man out of my house.” She glared cutting him off ruining the affection he was attempting to show.

  “And I’m working on that.”

  “Are you? Because you can’t even control Mason. I have three kids left, don’t get them hurt because you take this as a joke. Give him what he wants and hopefully he’ll leave us be.”

  Banks sat up in bed. “You know like I do that strangers rarely tell you what they want right away. I mean, I hear what he’s asking but I don’t believe him.”

  She wiped a hand down her face.

  “Please, Bet, just…just let me handle this.”

  He moved toward the door.

  “Banks.”

  He paused and faced her.

  “If something happens, and another one of my children gets hurt, I’ll—”

  “Let me stop you right there,” Banks walked back toward the bed. “I got a lot on my mind. And you do too, which I totally understand. After all, we lost a child. But please, don’t, don’t threaten me again.”

  “Or what? You won’t talk to me?” She laughed. “You know, manipulation works well until it’s power wears off and the captor becomes aware. My love, this is when the horror begins.”

  “So I’m holding you captive now?”

  She rolled over. “Close the door when you leave. I require more rest.”

  ****

  “…And I don’t care,” Mason yelled at Jersey as they stood in the middle of one of the guest bedrooms they were staying in. “Besides, we can’t fly off this island without Banks and even if we could, let’s not forget that we’re probably wanted over the cops you killed in the states.”

  Her eyes squinted as she looked down, rubbing her arms. It was as if he wanted her to be in a constant state of fear, always.

  “I know you, Mason. I’ve known you longer than any other man in my life. And I can see in your eyes that you believe you can handle this alone. But I’m begging you to help me get our family out of here safely. And the best way to do that is to not handle things by yourself.”

  “You gonna have to trust me.” He shrugged and dropped his shoulders heavily. “I know a lot of shit happened and—”

  “Mason, please!” Jersey’s spirit was in an uproar.

  She rubbed the back of her neck and moved closer. All she wanted was for the first time ever, to be able to say the right thing to her husband, to get him to see things her way. At the same time she could tell he was off the hinges, and probably not in the best position to receive her advice.

  “I think you need to talk to Banks because something tells me that this man is—”

  “Shut up!” He yelled, throwing a flat palm in her face. “Just, just shut the fuck up! This not like how things are back home.” His eyes squinted with hate. “I know niggas like Whoyawanmeta-whatever-his-fucking-name-is. They think they smarter than everybody when they not. So fall back and just trust me that—”

  “But, Mason, there’s something I have to tell you about—”

  “Jersey,” he grabbed both of her arms and squeezed tightly. “Just relax. I got our family. I got us.” He walked away.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The windows were open in the living room and brought with them a cool and calming breeze.

  And yet, Banks stood in the middle of the floor next to Mason, looking at the faces of the Lou’s and the Wales’. There was something on his mind and Jersey and Bet sat close to one another, each bracing for the worst.

  Howard and Derrick stood behind Mason while Patterson and Arlyndo sat next to Minnie and Shay. Spacey and Joey posted up next to the doorway, to ensure Whoyawanmetabe and his armed cameramen and crew, would not enter.

  After all, this meeting was a private affair.

  “We’re going to do what he’s asking,” Banks said straight up.

  Most gasped.

  “What you mean we gonna do it?” Mason asked stepping closer. “This nigga show up without an invite and we play his game?” He pointed at the closed door with his hand. “Are you serious?”

  Banks’ eyes narrowed. “Mason, I’m not saying we get freaked the fuck out in front of his cameras. I’m just saying we play along until its inconvenient and—”

  “It’s inconvenient now, bruh!” Mason continued.

  “You have to—”

  “Nah, you gotta listen to me this time.” Mason snapped, interrupting Banks. He took a deep breath and looked behind himself to be sure Whoyawanmetabe wasn’t entering. “I say we divide up and attack him and his crew,” he whispered. “At dinnertime. If we do it right he won’t see us coming. He has about…what…ten people and the pilot they keep locked up. And how many of us is it?”

  “They took our weapons.”

  “But we got a couple guns,” Mason continued.

  “They took all our weapons,” Banks repeated. “Even the ones you snuck in.”

  Mason was shocked, believing he hid them so well.

  “Daddy, I’m scared,” Minnie said looking over at Banks.

  Banks stepped closer and placed a soft hand on the side of her face. “You ain’t gotta be scared of nothing,” he assured her. “All this Mason talking about ain’t going down. We gonna take our time and—”

  “That’s your problem, you always wanna take your time when some moves need to be executed swiftly.”

  “Yeah, I’m not feeling moving slow either, Unc,” Howard said.

  “I think we hit the Jamaican first and his crew next,” Derrick added. Although shot last year by Stretch in his lower region, he was better now and moving about without a wheelchair or cane.

  “And then what?” Banks paused before looking at all of the Lou’s. “Wait for someone else to come looking for him? On the island? Assuming I can get to my plane and get us out in time? The problem is we don’t know shit about him!” He said, slamming his fist into his hand. “I know he’s here for something else.”

  “I think
he’s—“

  “Be quiet,” Mason told Jersey, cutting her off. “Once we get rid of him and the camera flunkies, we can move for his pilot. They got him posted up right now with a man watching the door.”

  “Pops is right,” Spacey said clearing his throat. “Just the fact that he drops and uses his accent at will, lets me know something is strange. We should chill.”

  Howard smirked and chuckled. “Still call him pops huh?”

  Spacey frowned. “Fuck that supposed to mean?”

  Howard grinned. “I think every nigga in here know what the fuck I’m talking about by now. At this point, it ain’t even a secret no more.”

  “Howard!” Jersey yelled sitting up.

  “What, ma?” He shrugged. “We still playing the pretend game or are we gonna give any thought to the fact that Banks lied to all of us? By faking like a man when he a woman?”

  Banks rushed up on Howard so fast he flinched. “This my house, lil nigga. And the day you forget, it’ll be your last night here. Are we clear?”

  Howard looked to his family for support but found himself lacking. “Dad, you gonna let this—”

  “Mr. Wales,” a woman said softly entering the unwatched doorway. The fellas were so in tuned with what was happening with Banks and Howard that they left the door unmanned.

  Banks turned around, immediately shocked to see Rosa Nunez, along with her family, which included her daughters Cassandra, Emetine, Roxana, her son Tobias and her husband Ives. Originally there to take care of the home, he was surprised to learn that so much had occurred during his time in the states.

  For instance, the last time Bet saw them, the Nunez family were trying to get to her through the reinforced door of Banks’ lab. Because earlier that day, Bet had jammed a knife into her oldest daughter, Oswalda, killing her within minutes. When Bet and Joey finally came out of the lab, the family was gone and Banks was home.