by De'Kari
**** N. D. ****
(San Jose Main Jail)
Voorheeze just posted bail through Zig Zag Bail Bonds and was released from the main jail. Air ever smelled so good There was just something about the way the air smelled when a nigga was just released from lock up. The air was purer and sweeter. It was a little after 10:00pm by the time the cab dropped him off at his house. You could tell summer had come and gone form the night chill.
The entire ride home he thought about the ass kicking he was about to give her mothafuck’n ass. Voorheeze didn’t condone hitting on women. Neva in his life has he laid a hand on a woman, but she had to get it! How was she gone leave him stranded like that after all the shit he did for her in such a short time? All the shit he opened up to her about? The deep, personal, embarrassing shit about his childhood. The more he thought about it the more pissed off he got. He was gone knock her mothafuck’n head off!
He opened the front door and gagged. He thought he would throw up from the stench. It was that strong.
“God Damn!” was the only thing he could say in response to the fucking odor. It smelt like death, ass and spoiled food.
Where was this trifling heifer at? Mothafucka could have at least taken care of the house, he thought as he entered. All the lights were off in the house. He didn’t bother turning any on. He just made his way to the back room in the dark. As he got close he could hear muffled sounds.
“If she got a nigga in my shit I’mma kill both dem mothafuckas,” he mumbled as he approached the door.
He opened the door and turned on the light. Danika lay balled up on the bed crying like a little baby into the pillows. Her hair was all disheveled. Her clothes looked like they hadn’t been changed in days. The room was a mess but the worst of all was the body odor.
The smell was so strong he could taste the sourness. Instantly all his anger dissolved. Seeing her in such a weakened and helpless state pulled at his heart and crushed him. Here he was being selfish as fuck! Only thinking about what she didn’t do and hadn’t done to help him. Neva once did he stop to think how his being locked up was affecting her. Danika still hadn’t noticed that he was standing there. He walked over to the bed and sat down.
“Shh… don’t cry thickems it’s okay.” He said as he caressed her hair.
Danika looked at him and immediately jumped into his arms. She was so happy she couldn’t talk. She just cried more.
“Shh..Shh.. Baby I got you.” He hugged her as tight as he could hating himself for ever doubting her to begin with.
“Daddy I thought that I lost you. I didn’t know that I was going to do without you.” She sniffled and lifted breaking their embrace.
She looked at herself for the first time and noticed her appearance, “Oh my God, baby look at me. Ooh I probably smell too.” She said sniffing under her arms.
“Ain’t no probably about it, you need to take about six or seven baths while I burn them clothes.” He told her jokingly.
She gently punched him in the shoulder and then placed him in a headlock. He couldn’t believe it. She smelled just as bad as one of them old winos who slept under the bridge. He hurried up and got up out of that hold.
“Woman you aint right! Don’t ever do that again” he stood up and picked her up. “Now come on and get in the tub.”
While she was in the tub he emptied all the spoiled food out of the fridge and then threw the garbage away. It was the same garbage that was in the can from the day before the funeral. He had eaten Boston Market but had gotten full and threw half of it away. Next, he opened some windows and lit a few incents. The final thing was to straighten the room up. She talked to him while he cleaned up. As they talked, and she confessed her love to him he realized he couldn’t approach Lisa. Danika needed him just as bad as he needed Lisa. Here he was talking about how she left him for dead and he was getting ready to leave her, what kind of hypocritical shit was that?
By the time he finished cleaning the room she was finished with her third bath and was starting her shower water. The entire room was smelling like her pomegranate mango body wash.
Voorheeze decided to pick up the phone, he hit Batman first.
“Aw shit! They done let my mothafuck’n nigga out!” Batman yelled into the receiver recognizing the number on his caller I.D.
“Yeah and I had to hit you and let you know. We need to meet up.” Voorheeze didn’t need to say no more. They were Batman and Robin, Left and right arm.
“No doubt same Bat time.” Batman told him.
“Same Bat channel” with that response he hung up the phone. Whenever they needed to discuss some shit it was always at Texas Roadhouse. Always at the same time.
He knew it was late, but he still felt he should call his mom and leave a message to let her know that he was home, so she could stop worrying. He waited while it rang. Danika just stepped out of the shower. Just when he thought the voicemail was going to pick up his mom answered.
“Hello?” she barely managed to say through the tears.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Immediately he was on alarm.
“LaMont! Oh my God! My baby! Nooo Nooo! She was hysterical.
Now he was really ready to go. “Mama what’s wrong?!”
“My baby LaMont! They took my baby! They took him” She shouted and started crying some more.
What the fuck did she mean they took her baby. Who took her baby? A flame ignited in his mind as revelation of what she was saying hit him. Somebody had the fucking audacity to touch his brother! His big brother!
“What? Who? When?” He was irate and yelling at her now. He only got more pissed off. When she didn’t answer him. “Mama! Mama! What you mean they took him? Mama! Where the hell is my brother!” He yelled at the top of his lungs trynna get through to her over all her crying.
“Dead! Your brother is dead!” She cried out.
Voorheeze dropped the phone as if it had burnt him. He was stunned silent. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. His breath got caught in his throat. His chest felt like it was caving in. Danika was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. His older brother, the nigga he looked up to and always competed with, only cause secretly he always wanted to be just like him, was gone.
He picked the phone back up off the floor. The sweet smell of the body wash Danika used was now making him nauseous. When he put the phone back to his ear, Mama was still crying.
“Mama?” Hearing the pain in her voice was crushing his heart.
“Why God why..?” She cried over and over.
“Mama I’m on my way!” He couldn’t stay on the phone no more, he had to hang up.
For a minute he just sat there trying to wrap his head around it. Did his brother really get killed? He reached for the bottled of Don Julio that he kept by the bed and took a long drink. Danika sat down next to him and put her arm around him.
“What’s wrong baby? She asked him in her angelic voice.
“Somebody killed my brother.” Hearing the words come out of his own mouth made something snap inside of him.
He broke her embrace, walked to the walk-in closet and removed the bullet proof vest. The streets were about to rain blood. He wasn’t about to shed tears, he was about to shed blood! After he got dressed and put his vest on, he kissed Danika and sped to San Jose.
When he arrived, he could hear his mother’s cries through the door. The night chill giving him goose bumps felt like an omen. His little sister answered the door. When she saw her protector, she fell into his arms. Her tears were knife slashes in his armor of toughness, she was his everything. To know she felt pain made everything else obsolete.
“I love you Brother.” She whispered as they walked into the apartment. Voorheeze sat on one side of his mother. French Tip sat on the other.
“It’s going to be okay Mama.” He put his arms around her.
SMACK!
She slapped the living shit out of him. Voorheeze was shocked like a mothafucka.
“It’s your fault!
You got my baby into this mess!” while screaming she continued slapping him. He just sat there. “You and your big shot fucking dreams. You got my son killed! I fucking hate you! LaMont I hate you! Get the fuck out of my house!” She was beyond hysterical.
“Mama, I’m…” He tried to get out some words of sorrow.
“Get out! Get out of my fucking house!” The way she was shaking he thought she would have some type of breakdown. French Tip was starting to get angry. She couldn’t believe her mom. LaMont was always the black sheep and outcast of the family. Their mom always treated LaMont like shit. It wasn’t his fault though. They all knew what they were doing. Shit she used to be in the streets herself so how could her mom blame her brother. Just when French Tip was about to say something, Voorheeze stood up. With a heavy heart, he walked to the door.
“I’m sorry Brother” French told him as he opened the door.
“It’s ok, Booger.” He gave her a hug and a kiss and walked out. Voorheeze neva in his life felt so much like shit. He was fucking hurt too. Shit, his big brother was gone. At that moment he felt like the little lost boy who just wanted his mother’s love but didn’t get it.
**** N. D. ****
(A week later)
No one had heard from Voorheeze in days. The way their mom talked to him that night didn’t sit right with French Tip. She understood his pain because she witnessed the abuse and neglect he constantly received all while they were growing up. No one understood her brother like her. He may have played the tough role, but French Tip remembered too well how not feeling a mother’s love affected her She remembered the violent cries and outbursts her brother displayed when he would feel rejected by his mother and when he would see a mother loving her son in public.
All of this was why French Tip was parked outside of her brother’s house. She had just pulled up. She sat debating on whether or not she was making the right choice being here. Clearly, he didn’t want to be bothered. Her brother prided himself on safety and security. He thought no one knew where he lived, but he had taught her. She knew all the tricks because she knew how he thought. She loved her brother unconditionally. No one else may have known but she knew he had a drug problem. She already lost one brother she couldn’t lose the other. She wiped her tears away and finally climbed out of her car.
She knew that he neva parked a car in the driveway so not seeing one now didn’t alarm her. Her brother always told her that if you parked your car in the driveway, niggaz could tell when you were home. She walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell. She could hear the doorbell ring through the door. Moments passed with no answer. She rang it again. Out of respect for the lady of the house, she rang the doorbell a third time. When no one answered this time, she said, “Fuck privacy,” went to her purse, and pulled out the key she had made.
French Tip walked into the house as if it were hers. The alarm control panel didn’t even make her flinch. That was how well she knew her brother. She punched in the four numbers on the keypad. 02,11,04,28. Alarm disabled read across the screen. He always used his birthday 02-11 as well as someone else’s birthday 04-28. She just neva knew who that person was. But it was always his passcode.
The air inside the house was too stale for anyone to be here. But she would check anyway. She had to know that her brother was okay. She turned on the light in the front room. From what she could tell everything was in order. The only weird thing she noticed, there were a few empty picture frames spread out along the family room. She made her way to the master bedroom. The bed was untouched. Again, she noticed the empty frames. One in particular caught her attention. It was a selfie taken of her brother. In the picture he had his arm out like it was wrapped around someone and his face was turned like he was kissing that person. But no one was in the picture with him. There was stenciling across the picture “Me and Danika”.
“What the fuck is going on?” French tip wondered as she continued to look around.
Inside the walk-in closet his stuff was on the left. The right was full of women’s clothes. She took a closer look at the clothes and noticed that everything was brand new with the tags still on. Not one piece of clothing had been worn. She was puzzled. Inside the bathroom was a his and hers sink. Once again French Tip noticed that all of her stuff was brand new, Not even the toothbrush had been used.
She made her way back to the room. Something on the bed caught her attention. She got closer and noticed there was a polaroid on the pillow. She picked up the polaroid and read the words “DANIKA” sewn into the pillows. When she looked at the photo she gasped. It was a picture of Lisa, she was in the parking lot of her job. The picture was taken from across the street with a high-resolution camera. She was smiling while talking on her cell phone as she appeared to be getting into her car.
French sat on the bed confused, why would a picture of Lisa be laid out on Danika’s pillow. Then she thought about all the empty picture frames. The picture of Voorheeze acting like he was holding and kissing somebody who wasn’t there. As a light began to go off in her head, she tried desperately to erase the thought. But the facts were there all around her. Then she thought how no one had ever met Danika. Every time there was a function or something, Danika just happened to be sick or had something else to do.
“God damn!” French Tip said out loud to herself. “She doesn’t exist. Could Danika be Lisa?” She asked herself.
Voorheeze had been in love with Lisa for so long and loved her so hard that he had to have her anyway he could. He knew that as long as he lived the life that he lived, that he could neva have her. He was in too deep to leave the life that he led.
Something inside of him snapped. He was delusional. His mind created Danika out of what he always envisioned Lisa to be like. That night at Texas Roadhouse with Batman, the hostess was the spitting image of Lisa and with the added stress that he was under, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
French Tip placed the picture back where it was and with tears rolling down her cheeks she stood up and walked out. She had to find her brother before something happened. He needed help. All this time her brother had been there for everybody. He has always been the back bone of the family; the glue to hold everyone together. But he was being eaten from the inside out. He needed help, and no one was there to help him. No one ever knew he needed help.
LaMont was always the smart one, the strong one. She made it to the car and called her brother, but he didn’t answer. The overcast clouds and cold gloomy night matched her mood. He had always been there for her whenever she needed him. Now he needed her, and she was going to be there for her brother!
**** N. D. ****
Special Agent Greer has been with the Drug Enforcement Agency for nearly ten years now. She’d busted her ass for countless hours sacrificing any hopes of a personal life or a sense of peace. She was a woman driven. A woman with a purpose. Honor and pride were not her motivation. Revenge and vendetta were the fuel that drove her closer and closer to her goal.
As Agent Greer rode the elevator down to the lobby. She thought back to the years she’d lost. The countless nights of pain and agony from a broken heart. Many of those nights she cried out to God to heal her from her severe pain and take it all away. But God didn’t answer. The answers to her prayers were determination and vengeance.
She couldn’t believe the cruel joke that life just played on her. It was like a scene out of Macbeth. For nearly a year now she had been building not only the biggest case of her career, but the most important fight of her life. She compiled the necessary evidence after having to literally beg her supervisor to allow her to pursue the case. Since no one had heard of this particular group at the time, that task was very difficult. In the end, her supervisor gave in and said ok to a brief surveillance detail which quickly paid off.
Within a couple months of work, Agent Greer was ready to bring down her target with ease. But she didn’t want to just stop there. She wanted the entire organization and felt she could get enough evid
ence on the entire group with the same relative ease as she compiled the evidence against her initial target. It was going slower than her initial investigation, but she was gathering what she needed. Diligently she worked, pushing herself to the limit and taking necessary risks.
Then life’s cruel joke!
Finally, Agent Greer had gathered enough evidence on her target and his top lieutenants. From experience she knew that she would be able to flip some of them and use that as a leverage to bring down the rest. Greer knew his little brother was involved, that much she was sure of. She was shocked to learn that somehow, they had gotten their little sister involved as well. She would go down with the rest. She refused to allow anyone to see any of her evidence. She only gave her Boss enough to give him reason to grant all her request.
This was going to be big! Huge! Bigger than those Nutt Case guys or that A-Team! This organization was larger than those and far more dangerous and she brought them down single-handedly.
“Then this asshole up and gets himself killed!” She thought to herself.
This brought a halt to all of her hard work. She wasn’t a quitter though. She had learned a lot over the years. Once she learned of his death, she rounded up some of his associates and affiliates and executed search and seizure warrants on all of his dope houses and stash spots. She did not want to be denied, but she was. His boys were rounded up with relative ease. However, one by one teams executed warrants on empty houses. Nine houses and eighty-five agents later and they didn’t find a single gram of narcotics and not one solitary bullet! Not even so much as a food stamp. She was humiliated. All of her hard work down the drain.
How in the hell was it possible she wondered as she stepped off of the elevator into the lobby? A tear slowly fell down her cheek. She was placed on unpaid leave for four weeks while the department assessed what happened.
