Wrath

by K'wan

  “But it’s my mother!” Jonas continued trying to pull him off. Slick whirled on Jonas and slapped him so hard that he skidded across the living room. He sat on the floor, eyes welling with tears. The tears weren’t those of pain but rage.

  “What? You gonna cry now?” Slick taunted him. Jonas didn’t answer. He picked himself up off the floor and darted back into his room. “That’s right, li’l bitch! You better run!”

  “You ain’t have to do that, Slick!” Janette screamed.

  “Fuck that. The li’l nigga act like he’s the damn man of the house. I don’t see him putting no food on the table.” Slick had never cared for Jonas, and it felt good to knock him on his ass finally. “I hope he brings his ass out here so I can give him another dose.” Slick’s prayers were answered. Jonas did come back into the living room, but he was armed with the baseball bat he’d cracked Black’s skull with. “And what you plan on doing with that?” Slick mocked him.

  He got his answer when Jonas swung the bat. The only thing that saved Slick’s skull was the fact that he had thrown his arm up at the last minute. He howled in pain when the wood connected with the bone of his forearm and broke it. Jonas followed up with a shot to the ribs, folding Slick. He was now on his knees and begging Jonas to stop, but the boy was past the point of mercy. He raised the bat, intent on sending Slick to the hereafter when his mother threw herself across her boyfriend.

  “Jonas, don’t!” she pleaded.

  “He ain’t never gonna put his hands on you again. Move, Mama,” Jonas ordered, but Janette continued covering him.

  “He’s sorry, baby. He won’t do it no more. Will you, Slick?”

  “No,” Slick cried.

  “This nigga treats you like shit, and you’re still protecting him?” Jonas was in total disbelief.

  “You just don’t understand, baby,” she sobbed.

  Jonas’s eyes were sad. “Yeah, I do. I understand more than you know.” He dropped the bat and made hurried steps toward the front door.

  * * *

  Tears were streaming down Jonas’s cheeks when he came rushing from his building. He was hurt and angry. He couldn’t understand for the life of him how a woman he had always known to be so strong had become so weak and pathetic. Even as an addict, Janette had always been very independent and stood taller than most. She wasn’t the ideal mother, but she always made sure that her kids at least had the basics, including love. This all changed when Slick came into the picture. In the years Slick had been around, Janette seemed to slide further and further down the rabbit hole. Watching it was bad, but the fact that he was powerless to do anything about it is what hurt him the most. It was that day that Jonas made a promise to himself that he would rescue his sisters from the madness that his mother had created, no matter the cost.

  Something else that troubled him is what Slick had said about his mother driving his father to “swallow a bullet.” The details surrounding Zeke’s death had always been sketchy, but as far as Jonas or anyone else knew, he had been killed by the husband of one of his lovers. That was the story he had always believed, but now Slick had raised doubts. There were so many things running through Jonas’s mind that he felt like he was walking in a daze. He was unsure about where he was going or what he would do next, but the one thing he was sure of was the ball of rage nestled in his gut. He needed a release.

  “Yo, yo, what’s up, li’l Zeke?” Juan called out to him. He was standing out in front of his store, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer.

  “That ain’t my fucking name,” Jonas said through clenched teeth.

  “Ain’t no need for all the hostility, shorty. I was just trying to show you some love,” Juan said. He didn’t like how Jonas was talking to him. “So, your mom never came through to pay what she owed.”

  “And?”

  “And, I’m running a business, not a charity.”

  “Look, Juan. You got a beef, take it up with my mother or Slick. I ain’t got a nickel in that dollar.”

  “Sounds like trouble at home.” Juan fell in step beside him. “I know how that shit goes. I didn’t get along with my parents either when I was growing up. My mom was a fiend too. No offense. I been out on my own since I was about your age. Went out and got it on my own because I knew nobody wasn’t going to give it to me. Now, I’m my own boss with my own business.”

  “Congratulations,” Jonas said in an uninterested tone. He wanted Juan to get the hell away from him so that he could brood in peace.

  “Look, man, I can see you ain’t really trying to be bothered. I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you need anything. I always liked you, Raf.” He called him by his nickname. “If things get too crazy for you at home, you could always come crash with me. I got an extra room that I sometimes rent out. I know things are kinda tight for you right now, so I wouldn’t charge you anything. Maybe we could work something out.” He placed his hand on Jonas’s shoulder.

  It took Jonas all of two seconds to realize what Juan was insinuating. “Get your fucking hand off me!” he shrugged him off.

  “Chill out, kid. I was only trying to—”

  “I know just what you were trying to do, you sick bastard!” Jonas spat.

  Juan looked around nervously to see if anyone had heard the accusation. What few people knew about him was that so long as the flesh was tender, gender didn’t always matter. “Hey, fuck you! I was talking about you maybe helping out around the store in exchange for me giving you a place to stay, but you can forget it now.”

  “I don’t want shit from you, fucking pervert!”

  “Pervert? I got bitches throwing pussy at me all day, every day, or haven’t you noticed the way your sister looks at me?” Juan said devilishly.

  “If I catch you around my sister again, I’ll kill you,” Jonas threatened.

  This made Juan laugh. “You think because you hang around Ace that makes you a tough guy all of a sudden? You ain’t shit but a kid. As far as your sister goes, I haven’t tried to fuck her yet, but maybe I should. Shit, if she gets down anything like your mom, I’ll—”

  Juan never got to finish his sentence. Jonas hit him with a two-piece combination to the face, splitting his lip. Juan was a grown man, while Jonas was only a boy, and had it been a fair fight, he probably would’ve gotten the best of him, but Jonas had the element of surprise on his side. He took all his rage, all his pain, and channeled it through his fists which were raining down on Juan. Tearing into Juan was a better high than any drug, and he imagined it must be what his mother and Slick felt when they were out chasing their highs. The feeling was short-lived, however, as a pair of strong hands grabbed Jonas and pulled him off Juan. He turned, ready to lash out at whoever it was, but paused when he saw it was Fat Moe holding him.

  “Easy, boy . . . Take it easy.” Fat Moe tried to calm him.

  “Get off, Moe. I’m gonna kill him!” Jonas struggled to break free, but Moe was surprisingly strong.

  “I can’t believe this little muthafucka swung on me.” Juan clutched his bloody lip. He took a step toward Jonas, but Fat Moe got between them. “Look out, Moe. This ain’t your business.”

  “Maybe not, but it might become police business if they get a mind to come around asking what happened. Grown man out here trying to fight a child.” Fat Moe shook his head. “That might be enough to get them to start snooping around what you got going on out of your store.”

  “You threatening me?” Juan asked.

  “Not at all. Just painting you a picture,” Fat Moe said.

  For a minute, Juan contemplated beating the hell out of both of them but decided against it. Fat Moe was right. He didn’t need that type of heat on him. “I’m gonna see you again, li’l Zeke. When I do, I’m gonna bust your little ass, and it ain’t gonna matter who I gotta run through to get to you,” he threatened and then went back inside the store.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Moe. I can protect myself,” Jonas said once Juan was gone.

  �
�I believe the proper response would be thank you. And for the record, it wasn’t you I was trying to protect,” Fat Moe told him. “What’s wrong with you, out here swinging on grown people like that? I ain’t never known you to disrespect your elders, son.”

  “Juan is a piece of shit,” Jonas said flatly.

  “I ain’t gonna argue you that, but that still don’t change the fact that you may have just made yourself a dangerous enemy. You beat Juan’s ass in front of the neighborhood, and he ain’t gonna forget it. You watch your back out here, youngster,” Fat Moe warned.

  “I will and thank you.”

  “One good turn deserves another. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Jewels told me what happened the other night,” Fat Moe revealed.

  “Come again?” Jonas wanted to make sure he’d heard him correctly. Jewels had given her word that she wouldn’t tell a soul what he had done, and he couldn’t believe she’d broken it.

  “About the girls who jumped her,” Fat Moe explained. “When I saw the bruises on her neck, the first thing I thought was that one of these knuckleheads she’s always chasing behind put his hands on her, but then she told me about the fight. I want to thank you for looking out for my niece, Jonas.”

  “Wasn’t about nothing,” Jonas shrugged. He wasn’t sure how he felt about taking credit for something that never happened.

  “Still, I appreciate it. Jewels ain’t had the easiest life. That girl is a tough nut and is not easy to trust people because of some of the things she’s been through. This is why I was glad to see the two of you spending time together. She speaks very highly of you.”

  “I like Jewels too. She’s cool as hell.”

  “That she is, but she’s also a very fragile young woman. Be mindful of that when dealing with her.”

  “Oh, you ain’t gotta worry about that, Moe. I ain’t trying to smash,” Jonas assured him.

  The term made Fat Moe laugh. “You kids and your slang. Look, I don’t know what you are or aren’t trying to do. I’m just putting the cards on the table. However you decide to play the hand is on you. One thing I will say is that if you ever do anything to hurt my niece, the next hot dog that goes on my grill will be yours. Do you understand?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Good, now, since you don’t seem to have shit else to do, you can help me set up my grill. I got some burgers to put on today.”

  This made Jonas’s eyes light up. The only thing that Fat Moe did better than hot dogs were burgers. As they were walking back toward Jonas’s building to fetch Fat Moe’s grill, they noticed two men in off-the-rack suits standing outside. One was black and the other white. You could tell without having to guess that they were cops. For a second, Jonas thought somebody might’ve called them about the fight that he had with Juan, but uniforms would’ve been dispatched for that. These were detectives. As they neared the building, one of them looked down at a piece a paper, then back up at Jonas before saying something to his partner. Jonas’s stomach suddenly started doing flip-flops.

  “You Jonas Rafferty?” one of the detectives asked. He was a white man with short-cropped black hair.

  “Who’s asking?” Fat Moe answered for him.

  “Detectives Rooks and Turner,” the black detective made the introductions and flashed his credentials. “You his dad?”

  “No, a friend of the family. What’s this about?”

  “We need to ask him a few questions,” Detective Rooks told him.

  Jonas silently passed gas out of fear. He wanted to tell himself that the detectives were there for something other than the corpse he had left in the motel room, but in his heart, he knew they were. There was no way they had just randomly shown up less than twenty-four hours after he had committed his first murder. Someone had talked. He wasn’t sure who, but it was the only explanation. For the briefest of instances, Jonas thought about running. The black cop, Rooks, must’ve been reading his mind because he grabbed him by the arm.

  “Let’s go.” Rooks shoved him toward an unmarked car parked at the curb.

  “Hold on, now! He’s a minor. You can’t question him without a parent present or a lawyer!” Fat Moe waddled after them.

  “We tried knocking on the door of his apartment. Nobody answered, but we could smell the cigarette smoke coming through the door,” Turner, the white cop, said smugly. “When they’re finished doing whatever it is they’re trying to hide in there, tell them they can pick their kid up from the Thirty-second Precinct.”

  The two detectives tossed Jonas into the car and took off before Fat Moe could protest any further.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was three hours later when Jonas would reemerge from the precinct. It took an hour for Fat Moe to roust his mother and get her to the precinct and nearly another hour of the desk sergeant giving her the runaround. He could tell on sight that she was an addict and decided it would be more fun to give her a hard time instead of doing his job.

  After Janette flipped out and threatened to report him to his captain, the sergeant finally showed her to where she could find her son. The detectives had him in a small room, where they were questioning him on the record, which they weren’t supposed to be. The first thing Janette noticed when she walked into the room was that it was freezing. It had to be at least ten degrees colder in there than it was outside.

  “What the fuck is this? And why is my son chained to the table like some damn prisoner?” Janette whirled into the interrogation room. Jonas was sitting at a table with one of his arms shackled to it. He looked tired, irritated, and a little roughed up, but unharmed. Something else she noticed was the absence of fear. Most teenagers would’ve been nervous, if not frightened out of their minds from being hauled into a precinct, but not Jonas. He was as cool as a fan. This should’ve been a red flag, but Janette didn’t catch it.

  “First of all, I’d advise you to watch your mouth before you find yourself wearing a bracelet too,” Detective Rooks warned. “And second, we had to cuff him because we had a bit of an ‘incident.’” He nodded toward Detective Turner who was leaning against the wall, scowling at Jonas. There was a Band-Aid on his right hand.

  “Little bastard bit me while we were interrogating him,” Detective Turner filled her in.

  “I didn’t name him Bastard. I named him Jonas,” Janette checked him. “Baby, are you okay?” she reached for him, but Jonas pulled away.

  “I’m good,” he said with an attitude.

  “Would one of you care to explain to me what this is all about?” Janette addressed the detectives.

  Detective Rooks went on to explain to Janette why they had brought Jonas in. All she could do is gape at Jonas in shock while the man spoke. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew that Jonas was no angel, but there was no way he could’ve been capable of the things they were saying . . . Could he?

  “Well, you’ve violated his rights by questioning him without a parent or an attorney present, so you can’t use anything you have on that tape,” Janette informed them. She might’ve been an addict, but she was no dummy. She had spent enough time in and out of trouble to know the law like the back of her hand.

  “Don’t worry on that account. He hasn’t said much of anything since we brought him in. I see you’ve trained him well,” Detective Turner said smugly.

  “Fuck you. If my son isn’t under arrest, I’d like to take him home. Any more questions you have, you can direct them to our attorney. You’ll be hearing from him shortly because I plan to sue your asses for what you’ve done to my son,” Janette bluffed.

  The detectives exchanged glances before finally taking the cuff off Jonas. Janette hugged her son to her chest, but he didn’t hug her back.

  “You can take your boy home, but I wouldn’t plan on taking any trips out of town if I were you. Your son knows more than what he’s telling, and we’re gonna find out exactly what went down,” Detective Rooks told her.

  Janette didn’t respond. She just took h
er son and got out of the precinct as quickly as she could. She was going to need a hit and a stiff drink when she got home.

  * * *

  Jonas breathed deeply when they were finally out of the precinct. He had only been in custody for a few hours, but it felt like days. That was his first taste of captivity, and even a small dose was enough to let him know that it wasn’t for him. If that’s what a few hours had done to him, then there was no way in hell he’d ever be able to do any real time. This he was sure of.

  As he and his mother were standing on the corner trying to catch a taxi, Jonas was overcome with an odd sensation. He felt light-headed, and the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up. He looked around curiously and didn’t see anyone except for a cop leaning against a squad car smoking a cigarette. He was huddled so deep in the shadows that Jonas would’ve never noticed him, save for the burning ember of his cigarette and his mop of white-blond hair. There was something familiar about him, but Jonas couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Boy, bring your ass on!” Janette got Jonas’s attention. A cab had finally stopped for them. Jonas spared another glance over his shoulder, expecting to see the cop, but there was nothing except for a few lingering wisps of smoke from a discarded cigarette.

  As soon as they were inside the cab, Janette started going off on Jonas. She read him the riot act about him getting caught up in the streets and every road leading to a dead end, but he only half-listened. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what he had learned from the detectives.

  Apparently, he hadn’t killed Black when he hit him with the bat, but he had put him in a coma. They still weren’t sure if he would make it, and even if he did, he would likely suffer from brain damage. Black’s fate would be the difference between a murder charge and an attempted murder. Either way, whoever they hung it on was fucked.

  The inside-girl they had working at the check-in desk turned out not to be as solid as Mula had given her credit for. All it took was the threat of going to prison, and she gave Ace and Mula up. The only thing that had saved Jonas was the fact that the girl didn’t know him by name and hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him that night to be able to point him out. The only reason the police even brought Jonas in for questioning is because when they went to the school to get a line on Ace, the bitch of a principal gave Jonas’s name as a known associate. They had also paid a visit to Prince’s house, but he had an alibi as he had been home with his parents that entire night.