by Nene Capri
Goldie ran everything through her head and decided she wanted to be on Team KoKo.
-3-
Nine
KoKo spent the rest of the week in Atlanta, scouting out a spot for her club. When she got back to New York she headed to Jersey to follow up on some leads. As KoKo rode down Central Avenue heading to “The Valley” in Orange, New Jersey, she toiled with thoughts of what digging up her past would reveal, and with everything she had going on, was she ready to face it? Knowing she had come this close to unmasking the truth, she quickly concluded there was no turning back now. She turned left on Scotland Road and headed to Beach Street. When she made the right and went under the bridge, the house was just a half block down. She parked, surveyed the area, and got out the car. KoKo walked up on the porch and rang the bell.
After about two minutes, she saw someone peek through the window in the door. The locks clicked and the door started to open.
“Hello, is Nasir home?” KoKo asked, a little unsure if this was where she was supposed to be. Nothing about the man’s expression seemed inviting.
Finally, the man chuckled. “Nasir, huh? Come in, young lady.” He stared at her for a few seconds without blinking. Damn she looks just like her father, he thought.
KoKo entered the house and had to admit it was hooked the fuck up. From the outside it looked average, but when she stepped inside it was immaculate, modern, and laid out with tall ceilings and expensive fixtures. The interior of the home looked as if it were cut right out of a magazine. The man walked into the living room and sat in a green, butter smooth leather chair.
“Have a seat,” he instructed KoKo and pointed to the couch in front of him. KoKo sat down as she looked around at the pictures on the wall. It was apparent that he was a family man. The house felt warm and full of life.
“So how may I help you, young lady?” Nine asked as he sat back waiting for her to reveal her hand. KoKo looked over his unblemished mocha skin and neatly shaven face. He was dressed in a pair of freshly pressed brown slacks and dress shirt, and age definitely agreed with his 5’10″ medium build.
“I don’t know yet, but from what I was told, you have something you have been waiting to tell me. If my sources were right then I will be relieving you of twenty years of secrets,” she asserted.
“Well, Princess, I have been waiting for you. And yes, there are some things I have to give you and tell you.”
“Well, let’s go. Because from the looks of it you ain’t getting no younger. And I don’t want you to check out before you spill your guts.” She gave him a sinister stare. KoKo didn’t trust anyone, and until she found out his exact role with her father that’s how she would remain.
Nine enjoyed her confidence, knowing it was another trait she had inherited from her father. “Princess, if you are going to be the boss I hear you are, patience is going to be needed,” Nine advised.
“Is that right?” KoKo smiled.
Like a guru, he sat calm and unfazed by her little threats and anxious attitude. They sat for a minute engaged in a stare down. Nine reached into a mahogany cigar box and pulled out a Cuban. He then lit the cigar, inhaled, and watched the smoke ascend from its end. “So, Miss KoKo, you have grown into a beautiful and powerful woman.”
“I’m all right.”
“Look, I’m not going to bullshit you. Your dad and mom were killed by a very powerful man. Let me start by saying your mom was very undeserving of her fate. And your dad—that shit was just a greasy ass execution.”
“Wait, hold up. I thought my mom was tortured.”
“No. It was very quick and painless.” Nine recounted the memory.
“I was told that she was kidnapped and tortured.”
Nine had a confused look on his face. “Who told you that?”
“Never mind names. Give me the accurate.”
“Your mother was Sabrina. Keisha was tortured. That was your dad’s mistress and your sister’s mother. Your dad was married to your mother. One morning she got in your dad’s car, and it blew up before she pulled out the driveway. A death that was intended for your father.”
KoKo digested the information. “Well, why is Keisha’s name on my birth certificate?”
“Situating paperwork is always a bitch. I guess you have a lot of work to do. I will tell you this—things were done to keep you and your sister safe from whoever was looking for your family. She was adopted by a Seattle family. You were sent to a New Jersey family.”
“Hold the fuck up!” KoKo moved to the edge of her chair, obviously agitated. “The lady that raised me wasn’t my real grandmother?”
“No.”
KoKo’s head was spinning. Her whole life flashed before her eyes, and everything she knew and held dear was lies. As she sat trying to digest the information she had just received, she heard the door open. A woman entered with two little children full of life running up the stairs with bags in their hands.
“Hi, baby,” the woman yelled. “Oh, we have company.” The woman moved fast, headed in their direction.
“Where you been? Out making me a poor man?” Nine looked at the bags dangling from her hands and arms.
“Cut it out. You know what today is. You said I could have whatever I wanted,” his wife said as she kissed his lips. She turned her attention to KoKo and said, “Hi, sweetie. Has he been hospitable to you?” She reached out to shake KoKo’s hand.
KoKo mustered up a half smile. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
The woman laughed. “Well, the lady of the house is here now. Would you like something to drink?” she asked as she turned to walk off with the bags.
“No ma’am. I’m about to leave.”
“Okay, if y’all need anything just holler.” She went toward the steps and turned to address KoKo. “Oh, I’m Tina. I didn’t get your name.”
“That’s cool. I’m anonymous,” KoKo said and then stood up.
Tina paused with a puzzled look on her face. Nine was impressed at how KoKo handled herself.
“Baby, wait for me upstairs. I’ll be done in a minute.”
Tina knew what that meant and headed upstairs.
Nine kept his eyes fixed on the steps until he heard the bedroom door close. He turned his attention back to KoKo. “Come into the basement with me. I have something to give you. It will answer all your questions.”
They headed to the basement and she took note of the decor. Pool table, projector screen TV, plush carpet in the sitting area which looked like a small theater. Also, the walls were decorated with sports memorabilia. A fully loaded bar and a music system made it the ultimate man cave. Nine went behind the bar and grabbed a bottle and two glasses. KoKo hopped up on one of the stools and held her glass while he poured. Nine picked up the universal remote and turned on the stereo.
“I made a promise to myself that when you came I would give you everything you needed.” He paused and took a swig of his drink as KoKo sat quietly listening. “Your father was one of the most loyal niggas I have ever met. If he gave you his word, you could put your life on it. However, he trusted to a fault.”
KoKo nodded. “He loved Sabrina, but he shared something with Keisha that is a once in a lifetime love. She had his back and rode for him hard. When all those events happened, it killed him. He was a dead man before he died.”
“What events? Who killed him?”
Nine took a deep breath and sorted the facts in his mind. “I will provide you with everything you need to get started. I’m confident that you will follow the path I set into play. Your enemy will be helpless. Just promise me that when you find the man responsible, you make his grandchildren feel it.”
“You already know.” KoKo tossed the rest of her drink back and then stood up.
Nine threw his drink back also. He reached up over his head where the glasses hung and grabbed an envelope and a folded piece of paper. He wrote an address on it, closed it, and slid it across the bar. “This will help you. Read it when you leave. My business is
done with you. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
KoKo picked up the envelope and the folded piece of paper. “I’ma follow this little plan you set into motion, but I promise you this. If I get to the end of the rainbow and the pot of gold got your name on it I will kill you and your wife and your children.”
“I wouldn’t have it no other way.”
KoKo shook his hand and then turned to walk up the stairs.
A smile formed on Nine’s lips. It seemed like just yesterday she would put her arms out for him to pick her up, and now she was making a threat on his life. “I will tell you this. You are your father’s daughter. Happy hunting, Princess.”
KoKo didn’t respond, but inside she was tickled that she had just gotten closer to the justice her parents deserved. Within seconds, she dashed up the stairs and walked through the living room toward the exit. Before she reached the front door, she began planning her enemy’s demise.
-4-
Game Time
“Y’all niggas ain’t shit!” KoKo spat as she slammed her ace on the table. It was game night and the money was definitely on the table.
“You poppin’ all that shit. You better pay me my money,” Mugsy yelled, slamming a three of spade on top of it. “Get that shit outta here.”
“You ain’t talking about nothing, nigga,” Night yelled, slapping a four of spade on top of it.
“I see that bullshit. Yo’ ass better not renege either, nigga,” Mugsy yelled back.
“Don’t worry about what I got in my hand, nigga. Just play your cards.” Night came back at him.
Savage stared at his cards.
“I don’t care how long you stare at ‘em, they ain’t gonna change. Put something on the board, nigga.”
KoKo laughed. When they played cards it was like war. Night always talked shit, and Savage always got mad. She sat at the head of the table and smiled, confident in her and Night’s partnership. They would come in there and take niggas money every time they graced the table. KoKo watched the room, making sure shit was cool while Night dealt the next hand. Several tables had card games going on, and ever so often, a sore loser ass nigga would make a scene and try to get out of paying, and tonight would be no different.
“Nigga, fuck you. I ain’t paying you shit,” this Queens nigga named Dolo shouted.
“Muhfucka, you gonna pay me my money,” Butchie said, coming right back at him.
“You crazy as hell. I saw you looking at the cards, nigga.”
“. . . Fuck outta here with that bullshit. This nigga dealing me cards like he dealing them to you. How the fuck I’ma see what’s in this man’s hand?”
“Like I said, I ain’t paying you shit,” Dolo said, trying to get out of the five thousand dollar hole Butchie had just put him in.
“Muhfucka, either it’s gonna come out your pocket or your ass, but you gonna pay me my money,” Butchie stated, trying to remain calm.
Scales looked back and forth at them both. He started to say something, but didn’t get a chance. KoKo strolled in their direction, already on her way over there.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“Yeah, this nigga got shifty eyes, and I ain’t paying him shit,” Dolo responded.
“Fuck is you talking about?” KoKo asked.
Dolo looked at the seriousness in her eyes as she approached the table. Her stare remained unwavering, and on her heels were Night and Savage.
“Say some shit, muhfucka,” she spat as she now stood beside him.
“Look, KoKo, this ain’t got nothing to do with me and you. Let me settle it with this man.”
“Fuck you mean? You up in my place creating a fucking disturbance, and then got the balls to part your fucking lips and tell me this ain’t got nothing to do with me. What the fuck is this nigga drinking?” She looked at the bartender who just shrugged in response. “How much this nigga owe you?” She turned her question to Butchie.
“He owe me five.”
“Pay the man,” she instructed.
Dolo stood and glared at Butchie through slanted eyes, who had smoke coming up off those neatly twisted dreads. Dolo took in some air, reached in his pocket, and pulled out a stack.
“Make it double for the fucking inconvenience,” KoKo instructed.
Dolo looked at her sideways. “Double? I’ma pay what I owe.”
KoKo squinted and cocked her head to the side. “I would ask you to repeat yourself, but I heard your punk ass loud and clear.”
“I ain’t got no beef with you, KoKo.”
“You right. You got debt with me. His money is now my money. You don’t owe him shit. You now owe me.” KoKo pulled out Midnight and rested it at her side.
“You ain’t gotta do all that, KoKo.” Dolo put his hands up in surrender.
“Run this nigga’s pockets,” she ordered.
Savage shook him down and pulled two fat knots from his front pockets.
“Come on, KoKo, that’s all I got.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Savage yelled and handed the money to her. She looked at it and threw it at Night.
“Now get the fuck outta here! You banned from the game from now on, and don’t let me see you on the block.”
“You crazy as hell. Fuck that! I gotta make back my losses,” Dolo stated.
KoKo leaped on him and whacked him on the head with the pistol. The first couple hits to the head forced him to the ground. Then she busted both eyes, mouth and nose before Savage joined in, stomping him in the stomach and chest.
Dolo passed out. When KoKo saw no more movement, she stood up huffing and puffing.
“Damn, ma,” Night said, watching KoKo walk to the bar and grab a towel to wipe off her gun.
“Get this piece of shit outta here.” She tossed the towel on his face.
“You all outta breath. Maybe you need to do some pushups or something,” Savage teased.
“Sheeiit . . . that’s light work. Let that be a lesson to the rest of y’all niggas. If you owe, pay!” KoKo yelled, looking around the game hall.
Savage gave the signal to the cleanup crew. They wrapped Dolo up in a large piece of plastic and hauled him out.
“Hurry the fuck up, Savage. You still getting that ass spanked on this table,” Night yelled.
“Fuck you, nigga,” Savage yelled back.
KoKo walked over to Butchie and handed him his five grand. “That was an expensive ass card game and he paid with his life. Now you owe me yours.” She then moved on. Butchie was now in KoKo’s debt, and from what he witnessed, he damn sure wasn’t going to cross her.
-5-
Secrets
After the card game, KoKo went home to review the contents of the envelope she got from Nine. She had been putting it off, but tonight would be the night. After exiting the shower, KoKo snatched her towel and began drying her skin. She grabbed the remote and turned up Nina Simone. Messing with Kayson, she had acquired a love for old but classic music. She placed her towel on the sink and began to apply lotion to her skin. Then she strolled naked to her walk-in closet and grabbed one of Kayson’s Big A T-shirts and crawled onto her huge bed. She sat back, grabbed a blunt off the nightstand, and lit it up.
After taking a few deep tokes, she stared at the envelope, looking at it as if it would open itself. Conflicted, she was caught between the thought of just saying fuck it and moving on, and the revenge in her veins that hungered to bring death to the niggas who had made her an orphan.
After smoking half of the blunt, she poured herself a glass of Ciroc. She drank it down and then placed the glass on the nightstand. Leaning forward, she grabbed the envelope and tore it open, pouring its contents on the bed. Pictures, article clippings, court documents, insurance policies, and a list of names and some information on each person lay in the pile.
She placed the policies aside, and began organizing the articles by date. The first clippings were highlights of Sabrina’s assassination and Keisha’s death. The last articles were about Malik, and most
of them ended with the comments, “There are no leads,” or “Motive appears to be a drug deal gone wrong.”
Quickly, she read through them. A hot surge ran from the tip of her toes to the top of her head as the names and events surrounding the articles cut her to her soul. She reviewed court documents that didn’t hold much information because almost everyone involved was dead. Then she began to go through the pictures—pictures of her mom and dad, and also of her dad with his crew at a few parties. A few photos showed Monique and Malik at a restaurant, which appeared as if they had been taken by an investigator. That brought questions to her mind.
The last batch of photos showed KoKo and Star at separate times in different places. Another picture featured a woman holding a baby boy, and then another lady holding a baby girl. On the back it read, “Daddy’s baby 8-15.” Questions flooded her mind about who the other children were and if they belonged to her father or his enemy. KoKo placed the pictures and articles back in the envelope. Then she grabbed the insurance policy, seeing her and her sister’s name listed as beneficiaries. The amount of the policy read $1.5 million that they were to share equally, but not until they turned twenty-five. She glanced down at her dad’s signature. Chills prickled her arms. He signed his name the same way she did, even down to the dot over the ‘i’. KoKo smiled and a tear welled up in her eye. Quickly, she brought her hand to her face and caught it before it rolled down her cheek.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the page and saw a name in the witness section that gave her pause. “Monique Wells,” she said. “This bitch is full of secrets.” KoKo looked over the list of names and internalized them. For the first time she was brought to the realization of her enemies. She vowed to find and kill each one and anyone who crossed her path in search of them. KoKo had seen enough for the night.
As she organized the last of the information to place it back into the envelope, one picture slid from between the pages and fell onto the bed. Her brows wrinkled with curiosity. She placed the envelope down and reached for the picture. A man with a light brown complexion, short dreads, and a scar that went from the side of his eye down to the middle of his cheek stood shaking hands with another gentleman.
