“I swear he’ll pay,” Le Le repeated blowing the fluids that continued to drip down her face into her mouth.
“Bitch, this ain’t about money; this is about loyalty,” Heaven growled removing the mask.
The fact that she felt partially blind enhanced Le Le’s hearing, but she thought her ears must be deceiving her. She recognized the voice instantly but didn’t want to believe who it belonged to.
She fought to open her eyes despite the pain she endured from the gasoline’s residue. As she managed to establish vision out of her right eye, the image she saw matched the voice and was unmistakable.
“He-Heaven,” Le Le’s own voice cracked as she fought to establish vision in her left eye.
“All I wanna know is why, Le.” The hurt was undeniable in her tone as Heaven said that.
Le Le’s mind was racing a hundred miles a minute as she searched for a response. How could she know? wondered Le Le, unsure of whether Heaven was there for the reason she thought.
To play it safe, Le Le replied, “Why what?” in a puzzled manner, now regaining sight in her left eye.
“Whop!” The smack came from out of nowhere. The impact of the blow dazed Le Le and caused her to see images of stars and hear the sounds of bells ringing in her ears.
“Don’t play on my fuckin’ intelligence,” Heaven snapped. “I swear on everything I love I’ll kill your ass up in here,” she threatened to illustrate how serious she was.
Le Le began to break down in tears. In a way, she was relieved that the secret she had been harboring all these months had finally been exposed. It had been a heavy load on her heart to bear from day one. It felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted off her shoulders. She never meant for things to go as far as they had she told herself, but when she heard that Earth was dead and Heaven was hospitalized, she knew she was in too deep and couldn’t turn back the hands of time. Now the gig was up, and the wall as she knew it came crumbling down. There was no doubt in her mind that Heaven was out for blood. Le Le knew the only thing that she could do now was to try to save herself.
“He made me,” she blurted out through her sobs. “He got inside my head, Heaven, and had me all messed up. He told me he wasn’t going to hurt anybody, and I believed him. I trusted him. He was my first love, and I was confused. I never meant for—”
“I don’t want to hear that shit,” Heaven silenced her. “Just tell me where the fuck I can find his ass.” Le Le knew that the “he” she was referring to was Monty. “I don’t know. He didn’t—”
“What the fuck you mean you don’t know.” Heaven pressed her Glock up against Le Le’s temple and cocked it.
“I don’t know, Heaven, please!” Le Le screamed. She saw her life flash before her very own eyes as the sound of the bullet entering the chamber echoed and the steel rested on the side of her head. Urine had long ago cascaded down her inner thighs, and now it was followed by feces that fear had caused to escape her bowels.
“Bitch, you better think,” demanded Heaven. She frowned at the foul odor she now smelled.
It didn’t take Le Le long to come up with an answer. She knew her life depended on the next words that came out of her mouth. “His cousin Murda knows where he would be.”
At the mention of Monty’s cousin’s name, Heaven’s anger level rose. It was because of him she was able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Now, she was already plotting on how she could literally kill two birds with one stone.
“Where can I find him?”
Le Le saw Heaven’s eyes light up and knew this was her chance. She figured that if she told Heaven everything, her life would be spared. Deep down inside, she felt Heaven still had love for her and would acknowledge how remorseful she was. Le Le made a promise to herself that once this was all over with, she would vanish and never be heard of again.
“They have a stash house on George’s Road. The address is fifteen, you know, next to Roe’s house on the right.”
Heaven knew exactly where Le Le was referring to. She knew who the woman Roe was. Everyone did. She was a street legend in her own right for many different reasons.
“Is he there now?”
“He should be. He’s always there.”
“Tell me everything and don’t leave out shit.”
Le Le began to ramble on, careful not to leave out anything. Heaven listened attentively as she studied Le Le. She shook her head when Le Le finished spilling her guts.
“Damn, Le.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sooo sorry,” Le Le cried.
“Me too,” Heaven spat just before stuffing the rag she had been holding in her hand the entire time into Le Le’s mouth. Le Le’s eyes widened with horror. The yellowish orange flame from the lighter did a snake dance as it swayed from side to side just before Heaven set the cloth on fire.
“You should’ve kept your fuckin’ mouth shut,” Heaven sneered, setting fire to Le Le’s gasoline-soaked Chanel tee.
Le Le’s cries fell on deaf ears. That was Heaven’s cue to evacuate the premises. By the time she made it to the door, Le Le’s tied up body was in a full blaze.
“One down, two to go,” Heaven murmured as she exited the way she had entered Le Le’s town house.
Chapter Forty-Four
Murda was engrossed in an intense game of boxing on his Nintendo Wii. He bobbed and weaved to dodge the assault his computer opponent was launching on him, all the while with a blunt full of Kush dangling from his mouth. “Yeah, bitch,” he mumbled through the blunt cigar as he dipped the jab coming straight toward him and began delivering his own attack on the skilled computer fighter. The computer energy level continued to decrease as the block figure seemed to be in a world of daze. Flashing lights illuminated on the screen with each blow Murda landed. He was perspiring profusely from the exercise he was receiving playing the intense game, but he wasn’t going to stop now. He had reached the highest level possible on the game and was determined to outbeat the computer.
“Punk mu-tha-fuck-a,” he emphasized with each punch he threw. Just as he was about to throw his infamous uppercut, the screen went blank. “What the fuck!” Murda barked, looking at the controller he possessed in his hands. He then looked over to see that the power was off on the Wii, as well as the fifty-two-inch flat-screen he was just seconds ago playing the game on. He quickly chalked it up to him accidently knocking the power plug out in the midst of the beat down he was putting on his opponent. He cursed himself for his clumsiness, knowing it would take him the rest of the day to reach the level he just had. Time he knew he didn’t have, not today, anyway. He knew once his cousin Monty finished handling his business in town, the two would be New York bound to handle some more business.
Murda released the controller, took the blunt out of his mouth, and made his way over to the wall socket. He took a long drag of the exotic weed, then kneeled down. A confused look appeared across his face. “Man, what the fuck’s goin’ on?” he cursed. All of the plugs seemed to be intact. He checked to see if the red light indicating the extension cord was on. The cord’s switch glared red. Not knowing for sure which cords belonged to which appliance due to eight plugs inserted in the sockets, Murda began to push them all in tightly. He never got to check to see if he had solved the problem because the blow that was delivered to the back of his head turned his lights out and put him down for the count.
Chapter Forty-Five
Heaven knew the area she had just cruised past all too well. She was surprised yet grateful not to see the normal body traffic flowing that she was used to seeing around the small curved road. Instead, she observed an occasional dopefiend and crack addict passing by in stride as if they were focused solely on their intended destination.
Heaven drove a short distance more up the block, turned onto South Ward Street, and parked. She then doubled back and made her way back to the intended address. By the time she reached the light blue three-family house, the street was cleared, at least the curved part, anyway. Down the street, Heave
n could see images scattered going toward Troop Avenue. The fact that she could not see them good enough to determine their gender or race, she was sure the same applied on their end. With that, she faded to the porch of the house.
In no time, Heaven located the power box. All in one motion, she flicked out the blade she carried and pried the breaker box open. Le Le had told her that Monty owned the house, and aside from her, only he and Murda were allowed in the home, so she had no problem with killing all the power. Heaven smashed the fuses with the butt of her gun, then rerouted back to the front of the house.
The main door was unlocked, making it easy for her to walk straight in. She bolted in and put the safety latch on the entrance, then tiptoed her way up the flight of steps to the apartment where Le Le said she would find Murda. Upon reaching the top floor, she put her ear to the door. Heaven could hear someone she believed to be Murda cursing inside the apartment and knew the first part of her plan had been successful. It dawned on her that this was the first time she had actually heard his voice. All she knew was his signature salute, the same salute that had gotten her this far in her revenge. As reckless as she had considered him to be, Heaven reached for the door handle and slowly checked the knob. Despite how angry she was, it took all of her willpower not to let out a laugh at the young killer’s stupidity. The cards were in her favor, she thought, as she carefully opened the door with ease.
With the door now partially open, she peered into the lavishly laced apartment. She saw Murda crouched down over by the big flat-screen and assumed the obvious. The smell of marijuana was heavy in the air as its fragrance met her at the door. Quietly, she entered the apartment as to not alarm him of her presence. Just as she was within inches of him, Heaven drew the crowbar she intended to jimmy the apartment door with. Having used the piece of metal before as an assault weapon, she raised it and expertly came down on the side of Murda’s head.
Chapter Forty-Six
The sudden excruciating pain he felt instantly snapped Murda back to full consciousness, causing him to scream out in agony. His testicles were on fire—or rather, more like a four-alarm blaze—and he was in dire need of a coolant. Had it not been for the boom box Heaven discovered and retrieved from the bedroom, his cries may have been heard throughout the entire city. It hadn’t dawned on her that knocking out the power would affect what she had in store for the young so-called killer. Busta Rhymes’s latest CD was the perfect camouflage she thought to herself as the hip-hop artist’s screaming type of rap style filled the room. Murda had a headache that had Excedrin written all over it from the blow he had suffered to the side of his face, and his sack felt as if it were covered with acid. You could literally see his veins pulsating on his forehead. He could smell and feel blood oozing out of the right side of his face, but not even his headache or the open wound he received from the blow could compare to the pain he felt between his legs. He inhaled and exhaled repeatedly as a means of withstanding the assault he was enduring. Fighting through the pain, Murda realized he was naked and tied to one of his kitchen chairs. He also noticed that the pad from the chair was put on the kitchen table directly in front of him. Someone had caught him slipping he knew. Whoever it was must’ve had a death wish he told himself. He cursed himself, knowing he had left the main door unlocked in case Monty arrived in the midst of him playing the Wii game. His focus on the video game caused him to lose focus of the bigger picture. Sleep and get crept on was one of the rules he lived by, and now it was one that was used against him.
“Ma’fucka!” he bellowed as tears leaped out of his eyes and snot shot out of his nostrils. The next blow delivered to his sack came out of nowhere, instantly breaking his chain of thought. His breathing increased, and his heart kept beating like a drum up against his flesh. He growled through clenched teeth, closed his eyes, lowered his head, and tried to shake the pain all in one motion but to no avail. He felt helpless, and now he knew why the pad to chair lay in front of him. Had it not been for Murda’s willpower, he was sure he would have passed out again from the unbearable feeling.
The first hit brought him back to consciousness, while the second one nearly drained what little strength he had, but still he managed to hold on.
“You’re fuckin’ dead,” he spat as he did his best to get a grip on the inflicting pain.
That was Heaven’s cue. She stepped from behind the chair from which she had just orchestrated her torture methods and revealed her identity to him. Murda’s eyes grew wide, and the muscles in his jaws stiffened. Out of nowhere, a grin appeared across his face. Unfazed by his facial expression as a mockery, Heaven saluted Murda with his own signature greeting the way he had done to her when they first met at the 40/40 Club.
“Ain’t this a ’bout a bitch,” he smiled, just before he spit out the blood that had filled his mouth.
Heaven expected as much. “You’s a real gangsta, huh?” she retorted with sarcasm in her tone.
“Believe that, bitch!” Murda barked.
It was now Heaven’s turn to smile. The open hole she had created by removing the pad from the kitchen chair that Murda now sat in and the way she had tied his legs apart gave her easy accessibility to commence her torture from any angle. Heaven leaned in and swung the towel she had tied in a knot at the end as if she was pitching a softball underhanded. The impact of the blow transformed Murda’s tough persona into a childlike scream and forced him to lose his bowels.
Murda yelled out and spit flew from his mouth as he screeched, “You stinkin’ whore.” He was now breathing heavily, taking deep breaths as tears flowed down his face. Mentally, he tried to immune himself to the hurtful feeling as he attempted to regain his composure for a second time. But the pain was like no other he had felt before. Still, he gathered up enough strength to spit at Heaven and say, “You think you’re gonna get away with this?”
“Like you thought you were gonna get away with what you did to me and my peoples, you cocksuka?” Heaven shot back as she hit him for a third time. It infuriated her to be in the same room with the actual person who had carried out the act of violation against her and her partner. There was nothing she wanted more than to spend the rest of the day torturing and making the young assailant pay for her loss and all the drama his actions had brought to her doorstep, but she knew time was of the essence.
“Fuck your peoples,” Murda lashed out trying to get a rise out of her. He figured if he could stall her, just awhile longer until Monty arrived, the tables would be turned, and he could enjoy the pleasure of his own revenge for what Heaven was doing to him. Murda had already envisioned stripping the beautiful redbone down to the nude the same way she had done him. He smiled at the thought of tying her to the same chair, conducting the same torture between her legs. He had even thought of violating her first in the vilest sexual ways for the pain she had caused him.
Heaven disregarded Murda’s last comment. Instead, she picked up the crowbar she had laid on the carpet and approached him.
“I wonder what hand you used to pull the trigger,” she stated rather than asking. With that, she raised the crowbar and came down with it. The hard metal smashed Murda’s right knuckles. Again, he let out an agonizing cry which competed with Busta Rhymes’s CD. Wasting no time, Heaven did the same to Murda’s left hand. This time, he outyelled the rapper.
“You know you’re gonna die, right?” she taunted. She then pulled her weapon from behind the small of her back. “You might as well tell me where I can find your bitch-ass cousin so he can meet you in hell,” she added.
Murda noticed the Glock Heaven now possessed in her hand. All his thoughts and plans he once had began to fade. It didn’t take being a rocket scientist to figure out he was a dead man. His only thought now was whether he should answer the question she was demanding an answer to. He knew there was a strong possibility that if he didn’t, then his own death would go unsolved and unavenged, but if he did, then, at least, his cousin would have the heads-up and possibly see his would-be killer coming
and get the drop on her. Murda quickly weighed his options. The latter of his thoughts seemed more appealing to him. For a tenth of a second, he felt like he was about to snitch on his cousin, but his conscience convinced him he was making the best choice, considering the situation and circumstances. Besides, he knew if he told her where Monty was, when she arrived at the scene, she’d receive a rude awakening.
“Times up, what’s it gonna be?” Heaven asked, raising her weapon. She knew if she killed Murda without him giving her the information she needed, her chances of finding Monty would become slim to none. At least today, anyway, but that wasn’t a chance she was willing to take. She placed the Glock up against Murda’s temple. His eyes grew cold. He sucked his teeth as if he had something stuck in between them.
“He’s at Feaster Park with—”
“Boom.”
The shot entered his skull before he could finish his sentence. A few seconds more and his words would have prolonged his death, but since Heaven hadn’t given him the time to finish, she would just have to find out on her own. Just as she had entered, she smoothly exited the apartment, off to her next destination. Her adrenaline was now at an all-time high as she got closer to avenging her partner’s death.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Meanwhile, down the street around the corner, Monty was engaged in a serious conversation.
“Yeah, my dude, like I said, if the shoe was on the other foot, I would want somebody to pull me up. I don’t want you to think I was tryin’a come in between you and your peoples, but when my peoples slipped it to me, I felt it was only right to give it to you.” He tried to justify his reason for calling the meeting with the man who stood before him.
“Nowadays, chicks is more ruthless than some of the jokers out here,” he added fuel to the fire he was sure he had already ignited.
The man listened attentively as Monty laid it on thick. He wondered what motives he had for giving him the information that was the missing piece to the puzzle he had been trying to solve for the past seven or so months since the incident had transpired. Whatever the case, he knew what was told to him was accurate, and although he was as calm as still waters on the surface, on the inside, he was bubbling like a volcano. Mixed emotions battled for supremacy in his mind, not knowing which would come out on top—Love or Loyalty.
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