Wrath

by K'wan

  “Soon, all this will be a not-so-fond memory.” Jonas dropped his cards on the table and downed his plastic cup. “That is my cue to leave, though.”

  “What, Alex got you on a short leash tonight?” Ace teased.

  “Never that. She’s staying with her parents tonight. I gotta get up early to get with Prince,” Jonas told him.

  “Speaking of Prince, I need to holla at you right quick,” Ace told him. The look on his face said that it wasn’t a conversation for prying ears.

  “Walk with me.” Jonas stood. “Stacey, you good?”

  “Yeah, I’m parked up the street. I’m fine,” she assured him.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll walk with her, Wrath,” Tavion volunteered.

  Jonas and Ace walked the few blocks back to 139th Street, sharing a joint. They stopped on the corner where Juan’s store had once been, and Jonas’s social club would stand. The site was almost complete, but there was still a plywood barrier around it. All you could see of the place was the black glass door and green awning. The front of it, where the name would go, was still blank.

  “I still can’t believe it.” Ace looked over the site. “We went front splitting orders of chicken wings to this. Who knew?”

  “You did,” Jonas replied. “Even when you were still trying to make ends meet with the bullshit connect Doug had plugged you with, you were always looking for more . . . knew there was more. You set the bar.”

  “But it was you who rose to the occasion, Wrath. I was the mastermind behind a lot of our shit, but it was you and Mula who always had the balls to go out and do what needed to be done.”

  “Ace, you act like you weren’t on the front lines with us,” Jonas reminded him.

  “I put in my share of work, but it was y’all who were out here laying shit down left and right,” Ace told him. “Do you remember that night when I was giving you shit about being scared to ride out with us on Black?”

  “Yeah, I remember. Had it not been for you putting the battery in me, I may not have gone,” Jonas admitted.

  “And that’s why I did it,” Ace confessed. “I know back then, I talked a lot of gangster shit, but I knew that I didn’t have it in me to do what needed to be done to Black, but I had already put my foot in my mouth. I was counting on either you or Mula stepping up so that I could save face.”

  Jonas laughed. “Same old Ace, getting people to do his dirt for him. What would you have done if neither of us stepped up?”

  Ace shrugged. “I can’t say for sure. I’m glad I didn’t have to find out, though. The point I’m making is, you may not have realized it, but you have always been my crutch. No matter what the situation was, I could always count on Wrath to see it through with me. This is why I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave us.”

  “Leave y’all? What would make you think that?” Jonas asked, wondering if Ace was psychic.

  “I can see the writing on the wall, man. We all started at the bottom together, me, you, Doug, Mula, and Prince; yet, you and Prince were the only ones who could see the bigger picture. I know this London deal y’all put together is going to be huge! With that kind of bread rolling in, why would you still be throwing stones at the penitentiary with us?”

  “Ace—”

  “Let me finish, bro,” Ace cut him off. “For a long time, I was acting funny because I resented the fact that you had a backup plan, and I didn’t. It was petty, I know, but I’m just being real about how I felt. Looking back on all we lost . . . on all you lost, I see that I was wrong. You’ve given so much to this life that only a sucker would hold it against you for wanting to get out. These last few years, I haven’t been a good friend and an even worse brother. I apologize for that.”

  In all the years Jonas had known Ace, he couldn’t recall ever hearing him use the word apologize. Ace could be as wrong as two left shoes and still wouldn’t accept responsibility for his actions. Mula’s death had changed him . . . It had changed all of them, but it was most apparent with Ace. He had grown from it. Maybe he was finally ready for Jonas to let him in . . .

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  When Jonas entered his apartment, he nearly tripped over a duffle bag. There was luggage lining the hallway. Among them was the pink roll-on with a picture of Ariana Grande printed on the side. He had bought it for Jo-Jo last Christmas. He knew how much she loved the singer. Jo-Jo took that roll-on everywhere with her. The following morning, it would travel with her to California.

  It had been a tough decision, agreeing to let Anette take Jo-Jo with her to Los Angeles when she left for school. She had been the last cog in the wheel that kept their family spinning and Jonas’s motivation to get rich. Not seeing her annoying little face every night when he came in from the hustle was going to be an adjustment. Though he would miss her dearly, he realized it was for the best. It was as Sweets had said, there was nothing left for the girl in New York but bitter memories of what was, and it was time for her to spread her wings to see what would be.

  When he entered the living room and flicked on the light, he was surprised to find Sweets sitting on the couch. She was sipping a glass of dark liquor. Drinking was a habit she had adopted only recently, as she had never touched drugs or alcohol in her life. That was another sign that something was going on with her.

  “What you doing sitting here in the dark?” Jonas asked.

  “Drinking and thinking.” She hoisted the glass. “I was worried. I heard gunshots, and I was afraid something might have happened to you.”

  “I’m good, Sweets,” he assured her and took a seat on the couch.

  Her eyes were tired, and he couldn’t be sure, but she looked to have lost weight since the funeral. Even when Sweets dropped the baby fat, she was still thick. Over the last few weeks, she had shrunken to a shell. You could even see the bones in her cheeks. She didn’t look well, and he was concerned.

  Jonas picked up her cup and took a sip. “Hennessey?” He recognized the familiar taste. He drank it damn near every day, so he knew it immediately.

  “Don’t nothing numb the pain like the dog.” Sweets took the cup back. She drained it and poured herself another drink from the fifth sitting on the table. From the dent in it, he could tell she had been at it for a while.

  “Sweets, I’m starting to worry about you,” Jonas said after a brief silence.

  “That makes two of us,” she smirked. “I’m good, Jonas. If I don’t know anything else, I know that God has got me now as he always has. My main concern right now is y’all, you and the girls.”

  “So, they’re really going, huh?” Jonas looked back at the bags in the hallway.

  “Yeah, by this time tomorrow, Jo-Jo will be somewhere pretty with the sun shining on her face. Thanks for making sure they’ll be set up when they get there,” Sweets said. Jonas had Stacey rent them a small house not far from the campus, and dropped $15,000 into a bank account in Anette’s name. That would be enough to get them up and running, and Jonas would send them money every month.

  “You don’t have to thank me. Y’all are my sisters. I’m always gonna look out for you guys,” Jonas promised.

  “When are you going to start looking out for yourself? The game is changing, Jonas, and the risks are starting to outweigh the rewards.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said, thinking of Mula.

  “Have you given any thought to what we talked about? You know, about getting out?” Sweets asked.

  “I thought about it, but to be honest, this life is all I know. I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if I came in out of the cold,” he said honestly.

  “You can do anything you want. You’ll be 20 soon. You’re still a very young man with his whole life ahead of him. Take your money and get out of this city before it destroys you like it destroys everything else. I don’t want to bury you, little brother,” Sweets said emotionally.

  “How come all you talk about is death lately?”

  “Because it’s the only thing in this life that we
’re guaranteed. Doesn’t matter how much money we have or how good we live. Death will visit us all. Some of us sooner than later,” she said. She was quiet for a time, but her next words would be ones that he would never forget. “Acquired immune deficiency syndrome.”

  “Huh?” Jonas was unfamiliar with the term.

  “AIDS,” she clarified. “You asked me at Mula’s funeral why I never went back to school like I said I would. It’s because I’m sick.”

  Jonas was stunned. He knew about AIDS. It had taken out a few people in their hood, mostly addicts that he knew of. “Nah, that can’t be right. AIDS only affects faggots and junkies, and you ain’t either one of those things.”

  “AIDS doesn’t just affect homosexuals and addicts, Jonas. It also strikes people who aren’t careful who they have sex with. Why do you think I’m always on your back about condoms? I may not be a junkie, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t have an addiction. My drug of choice was love, and it’s ultimately what’s going to kill me.”

  “Drew?” Jonas asked, putting the pieces together.

  Sweets nodded. “I always knew he had a wandering dick, but I accepted it because he took care of me. Those bitches could have his body as long as I had his heart. Drew was a lot of things, but I never took him for irresponsible. My diagnosis has taught me otherwise. This is a hard lesson I’m learning, but what am I going to do?”

  “I’ll kill that muthafucka!” Jonas said with tears staining his cheeks.

  “For what? Taking him out isn’t going to change the fact that I have this disease.”

  “So, that’s why you didn’t want to go to California with Anette and Jo-Jo?” he asked.

  “It’s bad enough they had to watch Mama die. I don’t want to subject them to this.”

  “Do they know?”

  “No. You’re the only one I’ve told. This is something that will stay between us.”

  “We can get you help. I have money now. We can find a doctor for you like we found for Jo-Jo.”

  “Unfortunately, this is something that not even the doctor can get rid of. There are treatments for the virus, but no cure. Don’t waste your money because the outcome will be the same no matter what we do. I am going to die.”

  “Stop saying that shit! You aren’t going to die! You can’t!” Jonas was going to pieces. “I don’t want to lose you, Sweets . . . I can’t,” he sobbed.

  “Hush that crying, Jonas.” Sweets hugged him. “I’ve made my peace with it, and you should too. I’m just glad I got to live long enough to see you all grow into strong, beautiful individuals. When I’m gone, it’ll be up to you to take care of the family. You’ll be all they have left.”

  “We can fight this, Sweets. Promise me you’ll at least try.” Jonas wept.

  “I promise, little brother.” Sweets rubbed his back.

  That was the first time in Jonas’s life that he could ever remember Sweets lying to him. Two weeks after Anette and Jo-Jo arrived in California, Jonas got the call about Sweets. They found her body in a hotel room. There was an empty bottle of Hennessey on the table along with what remained of the pills she had used it to wash down. Rather than live with the terminal disease, she chose to end it. She was only 22 years old.

  Chapter Forty

  The loss of Sweets devastated Jonas. He found himself dragged into a very dark place. Sweets had been more of a mother to him than Janette. She was his world, and his world was brought crashing down all because she had chosen to love the wrong man. Jonas had every intention of killing Drew for giving his sister the virus, but karma beat him to the punch. Another girl that Drew had infected with his lethal dick caught him coming out of his apartment building and blew his brains out.

  The majority of Jonas’s days were spent drinking, smoking, and crying in his bedroom. Not even Jo-Jo could bring him out of it. She and Anette had flown home for the funeral, and they tried to get Jonas to come back with them to California for a few weeks. They were worried and didn’t want to leave him alone, but Jonas refused. If it wasn’t at the bottom of a bottle, he wasn’t interested. It crushed them to see their brother like that, but at the end of the day, they had lives to lead, so they reluctantly left him to his suffering.

  Jonas had become a recluse, staying boarded up in his apartment and only coming out to go to the liquor store. Ace and Tavion handled the drug business while Stacey and Prince tended to everything else. His friends had tried to bring him out of it, but he was not receptive. He refused to see anyone, including Alex. He wouldn’t take her phone calls, and when she came by the apartment, he refused to answer the door. There were times Jonas wanted to reach out to her; he wanted to pour his heart out about everything he was going through and beg her to help drag him from the darkness, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It was as he had told Jewels years before, he was poison, and he didn’t want to risk infecting her. So, he did everything in his power to push her away. Eventually, it worked, and she stopped coming around.

  In Jonas’s absence, Ace and Tavion made sure that the business didn’t suffer. They did what they could to keep things going, but Jonas had always been the real power behind their organization, and without him, the foundation had begun to crack gradually. Usurpers had started coming out of the woodwork to try to lay claim to what they had built. There had been at least six shootouts on blocks they held, and they had lost two buildings so far. Things were getting ugly, but Jonas was numb to it. He didn’t care about the drugs, the business in London, or even himself. He just wanted to fade into nothingness.

  Jonas rolled over on his twin bed and picked up the bottle of Hennessy he had been nursing. He turned it to his lips and frowned when he realized that it was empty. He didn’t feel like going outside, but the liquor store didn’t deliver. That was something he was going to have to discuss with the owner when the opportunity presented itself.

  Jonas pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, preparing to make his daily liquor store run. As an afterthought, he grabbed his gun. He was depressed but not stupid. There was a chill in the air, and it helped to sober him up. With his hands tucked in his pockets and the hood pulled snugly over his head, he began walking.

  He paused briefly on the corner to take in what he had spent so much time building. Across the once blank awning, the word Sweets was printed in cursive. He had decided to name it in honor of his sister. Though she was gone, her name would live on. The grand opening was in two days, a day before his birthday and a week before Alex was scheduled to head to London. Tavion was still planning on going through with the grand opening, but he couldn’t say for sure if he would even attend. He was in no mood to celebrate. After all that he had gone through to make it happen, you’d have thought he would be happy, but he felt nothing . . . only the emptiness of all the loses he had suffered over the last few years.

  As Jonas was about to walk to the liquor store, he thought he heard someone calling his name. He ignored it and continued on to the store. Behind him, he heard feet slapping against the ground rapidly. Moving off instinct, he spun, gun raised and ready to fire. His finger had just caressed the trigger when he realized who it was.

  “Mr. Hightower?” Jonas asked in surprise. Alex’s dad was the last person he had expected to see.

  “I’d heard this was the best place to catch up with you.” Mr. Hightower’s eyes went to the liquor store. “You wanna put that pistol away so we can talk?”

  “My fault.” Jonas tucked the gun. “What can I do for you?”

  “Truthfully, not a muthafucking thing. I’m only here because I love my daughter.”

  “Alex? Did something happen?” Jonas asked frantically.

  “No, but she’s worried about you. As much as I hate to admit it, we all are a bit concerned. What are you doing to yourself?” Mr. Hightower looked over his slovenly appearance.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just going through a little something.”

  “Looks like more than a little something. My condolences on the loss of your sister, by the wa
y,” Mr. Hightower said sincerely.

  Jonas nodded. “Appreciate that. And thank you for the flowers you sent. They were beautiful.”

  “Sweets was a good girl,” Mr. Hightower said.

  An addict walked up and interrupted their conversation. “Say, Wrath . . . You holding?”

  “Get the fuck away from me before I murder you, junkie!” Jonas spat and sent the fiend slinking off. When he turned back to Mr. Hightower, the man was giving him a pitiful look. “What?”

  “Nothing, man. I just can’t believe how far you’ve allowed yourself to fall,” Mr. Hightower said. It wasn’t a dig at Jonas; just an observation.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about my hood stink rubbing off on your daughter. We ain’t exactly rocking like that right now,” Jonas informed him.

  “She told me. I wish I could say that I didn’t see this coming. She’s been crying for days over the way you’ve been treating her, and, frankly, I don’t appreciate it,” Mr. Hightower told him.

  “So what? You wanna kick my ass because I broke your little girl’s heart?”

  “For as much as I would like to fuck you up, it won’t do either of us any good. I’ve come to see if I can talk some sense into that hard-ass head of yours.”

  “I’m good on lectures, but thanks,” Jonas said dismissively.

  “I’m not here to lecture you, Jonas. I’ve come to pull your coat to some shit. Now, you looked me in my eyes like a man and promised that you would always do right by my daughter, and like a fool, I believed you. I thought that if anything else, you were a stand-up dude, but, apparently, I was wrong.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve been doing a lot of that lately,” Jonas laughed.

  “You think this shit is funny?” Mr. Hightower asked angrily. “Well, let me tell you something that might put things into prospective for you, Wrath. While you’re over here wallowing in your own sorrow and stink, my daughter is preparing to bring your child into the world.”