Wrath

by K'wan

  “I know this place,” Ace said once they had pulled up on the street of row houses. It was a run-down-looking house, with only a few of the buildings not being burned down or condemned. “Cal brought me out here to cop some guns before from this kid he was dealing with.”

  “That’s good to know. I hope he’s strapped when we run down. I want him to fight. It’s always better when they fight,” Jonas said and slipped from the car.

  Together, he and Ace crept up along the side of the house. It was located at the far end of the block. Both of the buildings next to it were abandoned. The house was cloaked in shadow. Jonas peered through the living room window. The television was tuned into a game show. Beyond, he could see shadows moving about in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how many people were in the house. It didn’t matter. Everything was food.

  “Remember, everybody goes along for the ride,” Jonas told Ace, repeating what Willie had once told him. This time he wouldn’t hesitate.

  Ace chambered a round into his gun. “Nigga, this is for Mula. Let’s get it popping.”

  When Jonas’s booted foot hit the thin wooden door, it caved in with little resistance, sending splinters of wood flying. He let off a spray of his machine gun in the air. He wanted to get the roaches scattering so he could stomp them out. A young man of about 16 appeared at the top of the stairs. When he saw the gun-wielding men in his doorway, he turned to run. He never made it far. Jonas let the machine gun spit, tearing open his back and legs. The boy crashed down the stairs and landed at his feet.

  “Daddy’s home!” Jonas yelled, stepping over the corpse. He directed Ace to take the downstairs, while he went up. He had just reached the second floor when he heard the sounds of gunfire coming from the kitchen. He smiled, knowing Ace was taking care of business. There were two bedrooms on the second floor. Jonas shoved one door open. A young man and a woman were having sex. They had the music turned up so loud that they hadn’t even heard the shots. “Knock, knock,” Jonas announced himself. He never even allowed the boy to pull himself out of the girl before he sprayed them both. They died in a bloody embrace.

  Jonas moved to the final room. He had learned his lesson from Flair, so he made sure he stood clear when he opened the door. At a glance, the room was empty. The bed hadn’t been made, and men and women’s clothes were strewn on the floor. He checked the closet and found it empty. He was about to leave the room when he saw a discarded order of Chinese food sitting on a snack tray. Jonas touched his fingers to the rice. It was still warm. He stood on the bed and pointed his machine gun down at it. “You got until the count of three before I see how this memory foam holds a bullet. One . . . two—”

  “Okay,” a voice called out. A brown-skinned girl crawled from under the bed, holding her hands in the air, and her eyes were filled with terror. “Don’t shoot.”

  “Where’s Cal?” Jonas asked.

  “I don’t know no Cal,” the girl lied.

  “I see.” Jonas grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her face into the television, shattering the glass. “Bitch, don’t make me ask you again.”

  “There!” she pointed to the bed, squinting from the glass in her eye.

  “Funky bitch!” Cal cursed. He scrambled out from under the bed and tried to break for the door. Jonas let off a spray that peppered the door frame, and Cal froze.

  “Next ones won’t miss,” Jonas assured him.

  “You got who you came for. Can I go?” the girl asked hopefully.

  “Sure, baby. You can go—straight to fucking hell!” Jonas ate her up with the machine gun. He then turned to Cal, who was standing there trembling. Piss ran down his leg and pooled on the floor. “That how you greet all your day-one homies?”

  “Wrath, let me explain—” Cal began.

  “Explain what? How you got one of my brothers killed and tried to cross the other one into the penitentiary?”

  “Jonas, that shit that happened with Mula wasn’t my fault. He drew down on the cops. There was nothing I could do,” Cal tried to explain.

  “And what about Ace? You gave him up,” Jonas reminded him.

  “I didn’t have a choice in that, man. The police had me. I was already on parole for the bid I did on the guns. In a commonwealth state, they’d have given me the damn electric chair. Besides, Ace was foul anyhow. That nigga was plotting on you. He was always jealous and wanted what you had. I know the whole plan.”

  “Good, because I can’t wait to hear it.” Ace suddenly appeared. His gun was in his hand, and his hoodie was bloody.

  “Don’t try to deny it, Ace. Tell Jonas how you planned to take over the block and how you were going to rob his connect!” Cal accused. He figured if he could expose Ace to Wrath, he might be grateful enough to let him walk out of there.

  “Everything he’s saying is true, Jonas,” Ace admitted.

  “See! He’s not even trying to deny it!” Cal said. This was going better than he thought.

  “I appreciate your putting me up on the game, Cal. I might even find myself grateful if Ace hadn’t already come clean to me,” Jonas told him.

  Cal’s head whipped back and forth from Ace to Jonas. He was sandwiched between them. There would be no escape. “But I’m one of y’all . . . We look out for our own, remember?”

  “Cal, you were never one of us,” Jonas told him before opening fire.

  Cal’s body did a sick dance as bullets tore into him from both Ace and Jonas. He was dead long before he hit the ground. Jonas and Ace stood around the body in silence. It was as if a great weight had been lifted off them.

  “For Mula.” Ace extended his fist.

  “For Mula.” Jonas pounded it.

  * * *

  Jonas and Ace were making their way down the stairs. The police were surely on their way after hearing all the shots, and they didn’t plan on being there when they arrived. They still had to get the gas cans from the car to torch the place before they left. Jonas had learned that when you erased somebody, you not only erased all traces of them, but also all traces of yourself from the crime scene. Nothing did the trick quite like fire.

  As Jonas was passing the living room, he stopped in his tracks. He saw an old woman, gagged and tied to a chair with telephone wire. In front of her, Wheel of Fortune played on the television. “What the fuck?” He looked at Ace.

  “My fault. I forgot about her. Found her in the living room when I hit the muthafuckas in the kitchen. I tied her up because I figured we were gonna let her live,” Ace explained.

  Jonas thought about it. If nothing else, he had learned from the mistakes he had made in the past. “Everybody goes.”

  “But, Jonas, she’s just an old woman,” Ace said.

  “You want to be the king or not?” Jonas asked.

  Ace was hesitant but only for a second. “Fuck it.” He stepped forward and shot the old woman in her head.

  Jonas and Ace proceeded to douse the place from top to bottom with gasoline. They lit it and watched from across the street to make sure that the fire caught. The building was made of cheap material, so it didn’t take long for it to go up.

  Long after they had made it to the highway, Jonas still had visions of the burning building in his head. Mula’s killer had finally found justice. Cal and every trace of him went up in that fire, but the crime scene wasn’t the only thing Jonas was leaving behind. The slaughter of all those innocent people, except for Cal, was the last act of a once-feared man. Wrath had burned up in that fire, along with Cal. Jonas was finally free.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Present day . . .

  The muzzle flashed a split second before Jonas spun. He was fast, but not faster than a bullet. Pain shot through his face. “Bitch!” he roared, clutching his cheek.

  “What kind of way is that to talk to somebody you claimed to love? Shame on you.” Jewels got out of the car. She was wearing black leggings, black boots, and a black hoodie. She looked like a shadow. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and there was a
crazed look in her eyes.

  Tavion tried to creep up and get the drop on her, which proved to be a mistake. He had almost reached her when the insane woman spun and shot him in the chest.

  Jonas watched in horror as his protégé fell onto his back. Tavion’s eyes were open, rolling around in his head, and he was breathing in short gasps. “Jewels, what the fuck are you doing?” Jonas shouted.

  “I came to wish you a happy birthday . . . or should this be bon voyage?” Jewels cackled. “You were just going to leave and not say goodbye? I thought we were better than that.”

  “Jewels, you better put that fucking gun down before—”

  “Before what? What, you gonna make me another promise that you can’t keep? Nigga, your word means shit!” she spat. “You know, I accepted it when you broke my heart to go chasing a broad who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire . . . I even sucked it up when you cut me off so that you could keep your nose shoved up her uppity ass. I told you, as long as I could always have a piece of you, it was enough to hold on to the hope that you would one day come to your senses. And then I have to hear through the grapevine that you’re about to chase this bitch all the way to the other side of the world? You’re gonna leave me, Wrath? Don’t you love me anymore?”

  Jonas knew he had to handle this situation with kid gloves. Jewels was distraught, but she wasn’t stupid. The most effective weapon he had at his disposal was the truth. “I do love you, Jewels, but I’m not in love with you. That’s never been a secret between us.”

  Her eye twitched like the admission had hurt her physically. “But you never tried to learn,” she said sadly. “I could’ve been a good woman to you . . . I was a good woman to you. Why was it so easy for you to toss me out like trash? Was her pussy that much better than mine?” She jabbed the gun in Alex’s direction.

  “Don’t! She’s pregnant!” Stacey blurted out. She was trying to help the situation but only made it worse.

  A deep look of hurt settled over Jewels’s face. “She’s pregnant?” her voice trembled. “You told me that you didn’t want kids.”

  “It’s just something that happened,” Jonas admitted.

  “What about when it happened with me?” Jewels asked.

  Jonas was clueless.

  “That night in the motel,” Jewels explained. Her eyes began to water. “I never told you because you had made it clear that you didn’t want kids, and as your ride-or-die chick, I respected your wishes and did what I had to do. I killed the part of you that was growing inside me, and you expect me to sit by and take it while you go play house with another bitch?” Her hand trembled. “Fuck you for making me think that I was really worth something. And fuck her for being enough for you when I wasn’t.”

  Jonas knew what would happen long before it unfolded. It was like slow motion. He saw the gun jump, fire belching from the barrel. The shell casing ejected, flipping end over end. The bullet seemed to be dripping toward Alex instead of streaking. Jonas moved as if in a dream on an intercept course. He managed to throw himself across Alex just before the bullet made contact. It felt like someone had hit him in the back with a sledgehammer. Jonas could feel his strength fading, but he managed to roll over onto his back. His shirt and overcoat were both slick with blood, and he was having a hard time catching his breath. Jonas’s vision was beginning to double, but he could make out Jewels stalking toward them. He pushed himself up so that he was still covering Alex. No matter what, he would protect her with his last breath.

  Jewels pointed the pistol at Jonas, and for the first time, he was able to get a good look at it. It was a Glock—a custom job with a rose-chrome barrel and black rubber grip. There were only three like them in existence. It was then that it all made sense. Jewels had already been on edge. All she needed was a little push. “Farewell, my love.” Jewels prepared to finish him.

  “Bye, bitch!” Ace stepped into view. He then proceeded to blow Jewels’s brains out the side of her head.

  The last thing Jonas recalled seeing was Jewels lying on the ground a few feet away from him. Part of her head was missing and her eyes . . . those eyes. Even in death, they still stared at him lovingly. Then, everything went black.

  * * *

  The first thing Jonas noticed when he woke up was the smell. It was a peculiar scent that reminded him of the first day of school when the janitor would hit the hallway floors with that fresh mop and wax. This was before the unruly kids would tear through his handiwork, spilling snacks and urinating on the newly cleaned floors. It smelled like the time between the initial cleaning and that when the doors opened—that hour or two when everything was sterile.

  At first, he thought that he was in a hospital . . . until he saw the large print poster of Spike Lee’s “Do The Right Thing.” Hospitals usually didn’t brandish those. The room he was in was familiar to him. He had been there several times when the tenant who resided there was still alive. He was in Mula’s apartment. How he had gotten there was anyone’s guess.

  Flashes of what had happened began to come to him. He couldn’t believe Jewels had shot him. He should’ve seen it coming. His mother had warned him about how fragile a woman’s heart could be, but he hadn’t taken heed. Because of it, he had almost gotten himself and the woman he loved killed.

  Just then it hit him. Where was Alex? The last time he had seen her, he was acting as a human shield while Jewels had been trying to kill her. Had she survived the assassination attempt too, or had he failed. Jonas tried to sit up but was racked by a throbbing pain in his left shoulder. It was like someone had popped it out of the socket, popped it back in, and then repeated the process. Spots danced before his eyes, and he was forced to lie back down before he passed out.

  “Easy, Wrath.” Ace appeared at his bedside.

  “Fuck happened?” Jonas asked as if he didn’t already know.

  “That nut-ass bitch Jewels tried to off you, and I domed her traitorous ass!” Ace fumed. Jewels was supposed to be like family, and he couldn’t believe she had turned on them. It hurt him to kill her, but it would’ve hurt more if she had killed Jonas.

  “It wasn’t all on her, Ace. I brought this on myself,” Jonas said, thinking of how their relationship had unfolded over the years. He had been as much to blame for what had happened as Jewels was. He had strung her along, never quite committing but not totally pushing her away, either. He’d always known that she was fragile. Fat Moe had even told him as much, but Jonas was determined to have his cake and eat it too.

  “Tavion didn’t make it. By the time the ambulance finally showed up, he was gone,” Ace said sadly. He had never cared for Tavion. He was a kiss-ass and too big for his britches, but he was as dedicated to their cause as any of them. Ace might not have liked Tavion, but he was growing to respect him.

  “Damn.” Jonas lowered his head in shame. He’d known Tavion since he was a kid, raised him up to a man, and promised to show him the right way. Jonas should’ve put a book in his hand, but instead, he put a pistol in it. “I’ll reach out to his mom and let her know. Of course, we’ll cover the cost of his services. Prince ever turn up?”

  “Yeah, in the trunk of his car. A day after you got shot, Stacey got a call to come down to the impound to pick the car up, since it was in her name. They noticed something leaking from the trunk and found Prince inside. Somebody poked him full of holes and left him to bleed out.”

  Jonas was sad to hear that Prince had been killed. Much like Doug, Prince had been a dude who stayed out of the way and got his money quietly. Also, like Doug, he had died as a result of some shit he really didn’t have anything to do with.

  As Jonas lay there listening to Ace fill him in, something occurred to him. Ace said Prince was found the day after he had gotten shot. How was that possible? It felt like only the span of a nap between his memories of the grand opening and him waking up in the hospital. “How long have I been here?”

  “Two days, going on three,” Ace told him. “I didn’t want you in no hospital
where you couldn’t be guarded or would have to answer a bunch of questions for the police, so I brought you here. We had Doc patch you up and leave us with some meds for the pain. We were all worried because you hadn’t lost enough blood to be in a coma, but you just wouldn’t wake up. None of us could figure it out.”

  “Two days,” Jonas thought aloud. Two days since the attempt on his life. Two days head start for his enemies to prepare for what they had to know was coming.

  “Two funky days to cripple our organization,” Ace added. “It’s like we’re being picked off.”

  “Not picked off. Erased,” Jonas corrected him. He wasn’t sure who had been the one who actually snubbed out Prince’s life, but he knew who was behind it. The same person who had been the maestro over Jonas’s symphony death throughout the years. He had known from the moment he saw the gun Jewels shot him with. The birthday present he had left on the table.

  “And Alex?” Jonas asked, not sure if he was ready for the answer to the question.

  Ace was silent.

  “Don’t go mute on me now. I asked you a question. Where’s Alex?” Jonas demanded.

  “Gone,” Ace told him.

  “Is she . . . ?”

  “Nah, man. You saved her from Jewels,” Ace said, much to his relief. Jonas was hopeful . . . until he finished his statement. “She was pretty bruised up, but otherwise, okay. Her and the baby.”

  “Then what do you mean, she’s gone?”

  “As in, out of here. She stuck around long enough to make sure you were going to pull through, and then she hopped the first flight she could book to London. She left this for you.” Ace placed a small velvet box into Jonas’s hand and closed his fingers around it.

  Jonas didn’t need to open it to know what was in it. Before the grand opening kicked off, he had pulled her into a quiet corner. He got down on one knee and asked that she be his forever. This would seal the pledge he had made to her about getting out of the streets and helping her to raise the baby. She had accepted his proposal, and they were to have a small ceremony once they were settled in London. All that had changed now. It was like Sweets had warned . . . When the chips were down, she was gone.