He Who Is a Friend (Sadik Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  With my eyes on Ab, I lifted my finger across the room to “Manny.”

  “One in the head.”

  Four seconds later, “Manny” dropped to the floor.

  “Nooooo!” the hyper-talker—or beggar—who’d been shitting his pants at the sight of Rory cried.

  I leaned over, arms crossed on my knees, gun toward the floor. “You threatened some nigga’s dick down my lady’s throat,” my voice soft, eyes imploring. “You’re gonna have to catch me up on the Asad-Yasin family dynamic now.”

  “The fuck? Like…what you mean?”

  “Like why the fuck does she speak of her parents—good and bad—all the damn time, but never mentions much about you? Like why have I been in her life for months and she’s never mentioned a call from you—and I’ve never been around when a call from you came through. My Nilab don’t like you, Ab?”

  Still next to my leg, the barrel of my gun now facing Ab instead of the floor.

  I was just coming out of the employee bathroom, searching for my lotion in my crossbody purse at my hip when Gino called to me.

  “Bilan, the Damien guy’s out back. Wants to see you!” He turned to the double swinging doors to head to the front.

  Amongst the dozen and a half of working bodies, I made my way to the back door. His timing was perfect. Why would he be upset that I quit? Would he continue to keep an eye on the place? I ambled outside, questions flying through my head like a freeway. There was a burgundy van double parked in the lot. A young guy, I recognized from Damien’s crew, leaning on the hood. He waved casually before going back to his phone.

  Carina called behind me. “Bilan, some big guy named Lamont’s looking for you at the counter.

  Shoot…

  “Tell him I’m out back talking to someone,” I replied. “I’ll be done soon.”

  Turning ahead, I made my way over.

  “Whadup?” he greeted as I passed by him, his eyes still below on his device.

  I murmured a return greeting while making my way to the other side of the van. It had one of those tricked out interiors. Damien sat on a bench facing me. He wore a white t-shirt with sweat shorts and sneakers. Jet black hair shiny with deep waves. The man always looked good.

  Oh… “Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays,” I joked.

  “Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing his knees. “And I ain’t got a lot of time, so get in.” His tone was brisk.

  My face folded. “What?”

  A sharp blow to my side had me recoiling. “Get the fuck in.” The kid from the hood of the van was pushing a sharp object into my ribs, pain radiating to my back.

  Without thinking, I moved to step into the van, needing the pain to go away. Then I was being pushed inside. Before I landed in a chair, the door was being rolled closed.

  “You’s a hard girl to track down, Bilan,” Damien leered. “Killin’ that damn dog of yours pushed you over the edge, I see.”

  Huhn?

  My body jolted hard when the van pulled off.

  “What? Dog? You know— You killed my dog?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “I thought it was cute you got him in the first place. I sent my goons to your house a few times to fuck with you, so you could cry to your brother about being in danger.” He delivered his blows so casually about the paranoia I’d been feeling when I decided to get Dog…and a gun. “But either you didn’t or that didn’t work ‘cause Ab ain’t flinch.”

  “Abshir? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I noticed two other men in seats behind us moving around. One was mumbling on the phone.

  With his head cocked to the side, Damien sighed. “I guess you don’t. You’ve been so damn naïve, girl.” Damien laughed. “Your big ass head brother stole from me. Well…him and his boy stole from somebody for me, and then he stole some of the shit he was supposed to give to me. The dumb ass did two more things, fuckin’ up. He killed three niggas when he did the robbery, then got caught with what he tried jacking me for. That’s how he caught that charge. The drugs in the car that night was what he stole from me to make a few dollars from. Dumb muthafucka.” He shook his head.

  “Anyway, he got locked up still owing me. I had a dilemma at that point.” He shrugged as I hung onto each syllable he shared, not able to believe my ears. “I couldn’t afford him rattin’ me out to the cops. So, I used your mother as collateral while he was on trial. If he ratted, I’d kill her. That worked, because he kept his fuckin’ mouth closed and took no pleas. But then I had another dilemma. Care to take a guess what it was?”

  My lips trembled from empty words. I shook my head.

  “The man I stole from through ya brother and his weak ass friends. That’s what I got sending local, low level niggas to do a boss’ job. Then I had to hope he wouldn’t run his fuckin’ mouth in the pen. The nigga I stole from got eyes in there, too. That’s where you came in. Ya mom—God bless the dead—died after he got sentenced. So, I told ya brother I was gonna kill you if he talked. He told me to go fuck myself.”

  He shrugged casually again before continuing. “I tried keeping a eye on you while you worked, thinking that’ll make him see how strong and long my arms are. I kept my goons on call for trouble, even though them racist ass dagos at Michelle’s used you to serve the niggas. I thought you would tell him I been looking you out, you know?”

  My jaw dropped. That’s why he’d been around the diner all these years.

  “No.” I swallowed hard. “I didn’t.”

  “Yeah. That shit ain’t work. I don’t think y’all really kick it like that. So about a year ago, I sent my goons over to ya crib to fuck with you.”

  That’s when I felt I was being watched…

  It was when I decided to get Dog.

  “But anyway, now that nigga out and owe me money, but the money ain’t got shit on my bigger problem.”

  “What’s your problem, and what does it have to do with me?”

  My heart banged in my chest. We’d been driving at a speed that made my torso sway uncontrollably. I needed to get out.

  Damien laughed again. “A few things, actually. I sent four local niggas to rob a warehouse, ya brother was the lead man. The man I robbed done already caught up to two. The first one, they got right away. Now, that’s their style.” His index finger pounded the air. “Jamal got clipped right away. That’s how they do.”

  I sucked in a breath, remembering going to Jamal’s funeral with my mother. It was sad. He and Abshir had been friends for years. He’d eaten from my mother’s table.

  Damien continued, “They waited Lenny out. He thought him running is what took so long.” He shook his head. “I think they let him think that. I just don’t know why.”

  My face folded again. “Lenny…Lenny?”

  Is that why he went missing?

  “Yup. Lenny from around the way. His body turned up last week, in the Passaic River by West Broadway. You ain’t know?” I shook my head, heart pounding. “Mother had to cremate that lil’ nigga.”

  “Again, what does this have to do with me?” I was on the verge of tears. Something felt awfully wrong about this. It was more than him forcing me in here.

  “Apparently, the man I robbed?” I wanted to nod to tell him to get on with the story, but I couldn’t buy into the naïve label anymore. He’d just demonstrated with this bag of tales how I had no clue of what had been happening around me. I didn’t want to prove him right, though he was. I’d been naïve to my brother’s street dealings. Thankfully, Damien didn’t hold out for it. “His son like fuckin’ you.”

  My torso recoiled as bile shot from my belly. I swallowed hard—choked to keep it down. Damien laughed in response.

  “You ain’t know, did you?” The mirth in his voice couldn’t be missed. “Awwww… My sweet Bilan had no idea the nigga trickin’ her out is the son of the richest Black criminal in the state of New Jersey—and beyond. So rich, the keys I had Ab and his crew rob him for wouldn’t have been a big loss to him
. That nigga just greedy and egotistical. You know… Possessive. But I get it. I got a little cheddar myself. I flex over lil’ shit, too.”

  I swiped my nose distractingly as Damien peered at me with a gleam of lasciviousness in his eyes. It was the first time he’d given me a clear sign of anything other than ambiguity. All this time, I waited for signs, wondering why he didn’t try to date me, and when I experienced the first of his fleshy nature, I was disgusted.

  “That’s why your pit bull had to go.”

  “Because you felt possessive over me?”

  “I ain’t like not knowing you was fuckin’ a Ellis under my nose, Bilan. I know I been back and forth, setting up shit in South Jersey, but my sweet, naïve Bilan let that nigga trick her out. Get her to take time off work. Then you quit.” His eyes went to my left ring finger. “Oh, shit! I see why now.” With his fist to his mouth, Damien belted out a hard laugh.

  I didn’t get why.

  “The Ellis’ killed somebody I was ‘bout to propose to. Daaaaamn, ain’t it funny how life go?”

  “What?” My eyes attempted to blink away the confusion. Then I was hit with a jarring thought. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  He tossed his chin my way. “Ya brother. I told him to make it happen.”

  The text. Abshir told me he wanted to talk. He’d lied.

  “Yo, we got a trail,” the guy driving us notified Damien.

  “Who?” Damien asked.

  “A black Range.”

  “That’s you?” Damien asked, sparking the realization it could be Lamont.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

  “Loose his ass!” Damien shouted, all humor gone.

  “Man, I ‘on’t know what you want me to tell you,” Ab answered honestly, and I understood it.

  This kid was a different breed to that of my sweet Nalib. She was well spoken and mannerable, yet strong. This guy wasn’t an ounce of the thugs my father employed. I wasn’t unfamiliar with his type at all. I could smell the fear on his breath. It was my suit and demeanor. Street niggas thought they’d be killed fast and predictably by niggas who look and dressed like them. So, when a suited man with gentle civility had a gun to them, of course, fear was present. Ab here also had that “recently released” mentality. He wanted to be tough.

  “I want you to tell me why she doesn’t talk about you. Why would an older brother tell his sister he’d make her suck some nigga’s dick? What sick fuck would do that?”

  “She ain’t innocent, man. Don’t let her run game on you.” His eyes fell, nostrils flared. “Look, I been knowin’ about you and ya family, man. I know you got a sister, too. Y’all gotta fight sometimes.”

  “Nah. I lead in protection. She follows. We’re the same flesh and blood. I would not let a goddamn thug use her as collateral while you’re locked away.”

  “I swear to Allah, I told Damien: my mom dukes died! I ain’t give a shit what he did after that. Bilan was on her own. I ain’t give a shit no more—don’t give a shit. Me and Bilan never been on the same shit. She just different. That fuckin’ bookworm shit—”

  I stood and pushed the gun into his temple. “Aye! Aye!” he screamed, hands in the air defensively.

  “The fuck wrong with reading books?” I asked.

  I saw the first tear fall. “It’s more than that! She ain’t never like me, man. It’s just shit between brothers and sisters,” he tried to deflect. “I ‘on’t give a shit how sweet she try to act, she think she better, and my father believed that shit.”

  I pushed the gun further into his skull. “You better tell me something that makes since, Ab. I got shit to do.”

  What was I doing? I came here to do one thing. Now, I was defending my girl’s honor to her brother.

  The tears continued to fall, and breathing grew strained as it became clear to me. This kid was struggling with pure animosity for his sister. My Bilan.

  “She tell you our pops was a fuckin’ pipe head?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She tell you how when we was mad little, some hustlers ran up on us in the restaurant my family had, trying to get money my pops owed? She tell you that story? How they threatened to kidnap her until he paid up and that nigga cried at their fuckin’ Timbo’s, begging them to take me instead?”

  Ab was choking on the tears he didn’t want to break from his throat. His whole damn body vibrated from constraint. He didn’t like being forced to tell a story that had been haunting him since he was damn near a baby.

  I pulled back on the gun, eyes going into the distance. He hated his sister because he was going to be sacrificed for her. I wondered if Bilan knew this. I’m sure she wouldn’t have agreed with her father being reckless with her brother’s life. This story was also likely the reason Ab turned to the streets. If his father was this weak—as weak as Bilan tried gently describing him—the streets were an easy lure for this kid.

  “Yo, Deek!” Rory barked, voice animated. I turned to her. “Damien got Bilan!”

  My entire body went cold at those words. My knees went weak.

  “Where?” spilled…strained from my mouth. I couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  “Lamont on them.” She yelled into the phone I didn’t hear her on until now. “Stay on them, nigga! Where you at?” She listened in before answering to me, “He said they was headed to the west side, ‘bout to turn down that lil’ bridge behind the old B-Way Burger till they noticed him. Now, they running around the fourth ward!”

  Shit…

  I jumped, damn near running out of the living room. “Tell him to stay so far behind, they’ll think they lost him. J-Dot, clean the body.” I referred to Manny’s bloodied mess.

  “Wait!” Rory yelled after me. “What about these fucks?”

  Ab and his friend.

  “Leave them. They won’t go far!” I was at the back door, swinging it open and bolting out.

  ∞25∞

  I’d never been strung up in my life—before Sadik. I’d also never been faced with my own death. This was some HBO action film type of horror. We zigzagged through the streets of Paterson, nearly hitting people on each block. As awful as it sounds, I was grateful for the chaos, hoping it would call the attention of the cops at some point. I mean, somebody had to be calling about an erratic-moving van somewhere along the way. But that didn’t happen. The kid driving told Damien they’d lost the Range. His response was to head over to the spot. The spot ended up being the old B-Way Burger that had been closed down for as long as I could remember.

  Now, I sat in the middle of what could have been the dining area. The whole place was stripped of everything resembling a restaurant. Straight ahead, one of the guys was laying out plastic tarp on the floor. Another was pulling out a chainsaw, then another. My eyes flew wide and breathing hiked. I couldn’t believe my life was playing out like a movie. Or was it an untold story of a woman’s body coming up in the river months later like Lenny’s?

  So, this type of terror really happens underneath my nose?

  When I couldn’t stop crying, Damien had one of the guys tape my mouth. Now, I could hardly breathe, no matter how much I willed my mind to calm down so my body could follow. My head was spinning, my stomach nauseous.

  Oh, God, my belly…

  I tried kicking my feet, wiggling my arms free.

  “You gone pass out if you ‘on’t stop, Bilan.”

  That had to be Damien warning me. But I couldn’t help myself. I was about to die. How could I calm down? How could Damien turn out to be a killer? My chest began to hurt, head whirred, and I couldn’t feel my feet.

  I was fading…

  “I’m not afraid of anything. I’ve been on my own for so long now, I know how to protect and look out for myself. I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I’m just fine.”

  “You’re not,” the broad, handsome, eclectic, and mystic man rasped. “But you will be. You do, however, have a turbulent voyage ahead of you similar to Joseph. You see, people focus on the b
etrayal, then the ultimate overdog nature of his story when I’m always reminded of the journey of his faith. Yes, Joseph was deceived by his siblings and sold into slavery. He was lied on by his boss’ wife, accused of attacking her with sexual intent. But Genesis, chapter thirty-nine, verse two tells us, ‘The Lord was with Joseph.’ Joseph was then imprisoned for, some say, thirteen years.

  “It was those years of despair, confusion, and imprisonment that impress me most about Joseph. He was alone and in captivity. And once again, in verse twenty-one, we’re reminded, ‘But the Lord was with Joseph.’ We learn in chapter forty-eight how Joseph may have appeared to have been removed from his birthright, but his birthright remained in him each moment of what turned out to be twenty years of separation from his family. In the end, God not only released him from that prison, but He made him ruler of Egypt under the pharaoh of the time. The second most powerful man of Egypt.

  “Joseph became what’s called a vizier and decided...what you millennials refer to as ‘who got to eat, and eat well.’ He went from a slave to a prisoner to a high-ranking official, ruling over the brothers who betrayed him.”

  “I don’t get what you’re saying. Why are you telling me all of this?”

  “The Holy Spirit revealed to me a similar path you’re about to take. You’ve been in a valley and have more time in it, but the amazing thing about God is no matter your Islamic roots, He covers you. Your upbringing, culture, current knowledge of Him is inconsequential to His covering and will for your life. He still wants to be in relationship with you.”

  “Why?”

  “In the vision, some of your nights were long. You witnessed things only seen in cinema or between the pages of a novel and/or pamphlet. You were thrust into a world never known to you. You will feel pain, joy, betrayal, bliss, deeper loneliness, and contentment like no other. There will come a time where you will flee—run in fear.. But the Lord will be with you. The stranger you’ve never known knows each strand of hair on your body and has covered you since your conception, and will continue to during this next phase of your life.”