by BlaQue
He knew there was more to the whole story than what the girl was telling. It could have been out of fear, or it could have been because she didn’t want anyone knowing what had really happened when the dearly departed met his demise. He had her tested for gunpowder residue and she checked out clean. Not so much as a spatter of blood was found on her clothing. He just couldn’t figure out why, if Papi had been shot in cold blood in front of her, had the killers left a witness. Twenty years on the force had taught him to always follow his gut. When he pulled the Clayton woman in the room for questioning, something about her didn’t sit well with him, and he wanted to get the truth out of her. She was cold as ice. That too could have been one of two things making him uneasy about her. Either she was hiding something or shock had set in. Something about the beautiful grey-eyed black girl intrigued him.
Gatsby sat looking out of the window towards the Clayton home hoping that the girl really didn’t have anything to do with the murder of her boyfriend. He really wanted to see what she felt like. He had always had a thing for black chicks, but being that he was from a very strict Italian upbringing, fucking niggas was definitely forbidden in his world. Sure he had nothing against black people, and had even been in love with a chick from Haiti who made him happy to come home to and see her face everyday. Only she wanted more from him than he could offer. She wanted acceptance into his entire world, which meant his family. There was no way he could bring a nigga before his father and proclaim his love for her to him. There would be blood shed if he even thought of doing so.
Just like all good things in life they come to an end. Anona was not feeling being kept as his little dark secret, and decided that she would rather return home to Haiti instead of being a prisoner of love. Anona had returned for visits to the States frequently, and had returned with good news on her last visit. She was pregnant from her last visit three months before. Gatsby was excited and didn’t give a damn about what his family thought of who he decided to be with. All he cared about was pleasing Anona and being a good father to his child. Gatsby and Anona had planned on sharing their good news with his family. He had forewarned Anona about their hostility towards blacks, and how he would be out casted and shunned because of their wicked and nasty ways.
Being that Donald Gatsby was his parent’s only son, the news of the nigger baby wasn’t received well. His mother could barely control herself. She walked around the large dining table they were all seated at during dinner, and she smacked Anona so violently that she saw stars before her. Anona pushed herself away from the table; too stunned to react. Gatsby moved in to help her stand so they could gather their things and be done with his family forever. If they could not accept his new family for who they were, then fuck them all. As they exited his childhood home for what he knew was the last time, Gatsby unleashed every vile feeling he had for his parents.
“Hell has a place just for the two of you in it!” He yelled at them while ushering Anona out of the front door and down the drive way.
“You are a disgrace to the family and you wait and see, that nigger ain’t gonna do nothing but bring you trouble. That mixed breed baby will be cursed and so will everything you touch.” His father shouted back.
His mother was acting like a mad woman screaming and crying on the front lawn. She was throwing things all about. “She put that voodoo curse on you. She made him her slave.” She hollered out. Gatsby got them to the car safely without being hit by any of the projectiles his mother was launching from the front porch.
Anona had been warned of his family’s behavior and had pushed him into the unfortunate experience. She felt guilty and wasn’t in the best of spirits, even though Donald told her that he didn’t need them in his life. He told her she was his everything and their world would be complete as long as she and the baby were in it. Over the next few weeks Anona started coming out of her depression. She was starting the process of moving herself back to the States so that she and Donald could be married. There wasn’t a day that went by that Gatsby didn’t think or feel he had made the right decision. Anona was his life, and he would do anything to appease her. He needed her unconditional love to survive. She gave him pure happiness, which was something he was not accustomed to.
The weeks turned into months, and his soon to be wife and unborn child held his undivided attention. Their wedding was days away. It was nothing extravagant, just an intimate affair among friends and Anona’s family. Some of his sister’s had agreed to be there and did not care what race their baby brother was marrying. As long as Anona treated him right, and did right by their baby, they vowed to remain by their brother’s side. On the day of the wedding Anona was rushing around trying to take care of last minute preparations. She told Donald she had errands to run and would meet him to be his new bride.
Donald continued on with getting himself prepared to become the perfect husband that he knew he could be. He left for the church in good spirits. When it was time for his blushing bride to walk down the aisle, she missed her queue. She had left him standing there. No reasons or explanations were given. Donald sat at the church hopelessly for hours awaiting Anona. The guests had all left and Donald couldn’t understand why she had left him there alone when that morning she seemed so happy to be his wife. Donald’s anger slowly turned into fear. He knew Anona wouldn’t just leave him like that. A thousand different scenarios played out in his head as he left the church and headed home. He began thinking what if she had gone into labor? What if she had been hurt? He drove through the streets of upper Northwest like a bat out of hell. Gatsby was hoping against hope that she and his baby were alright.
Gatsby pulled up in front of the home he had shared with Anona and was relieved to see her car out front. He ran through the front door calling her name. Anona didn’t respond. He began to taste the vile of fear creep up from the pit of his stomach and into his throat. He pulled his service revolver and crept up the steps that lead to the bedrooms. The master bedroom door was slightly ajar. Gatsby pushed open the bedroom door and could not believe the horror he found.
His bride was lying on the floor at the foot of the bed with her body contorted like a circus side show freak. She was lying there in her wedding gown which was no longer white; it was a bright shade of crimson. The worst part of it was that her dress was pulled up over her pregnant belly, and carved into her stomach were the words, “Nigger bitch.”
There was no denying that she had died a horrible death, and there was no doubt by whose hands it had been caused. Gatsby sat there just holding his bride’s bloody corpse. He was rocking her back and forth. His fellow boys in blue found him just like that, holding Anona staring blankly at the wall. It had taken him months of therapy and numerous evaluations before he was able to deal with the pain of loosing the love of his life and his unborn baby. Anona had been beaten and raped so badly that their baby girl had no chance of survival against their attacker. Gatsby played the game the doctors wanted him to play. After his wife and child were laid to rest, he made them believe that he was sane and that he was healed of the wrath that had been looming inside his soul.
Once he was released back into society and had returned to work, he had his mind set on revenge. It didn’t matter who he had to kill, as long as the death of his love was avenged. He knew who did it and he knew why. No one else cared that she was black, no one else but his mother and father. They would rather go to jail and burn in hell before they let their only son marry a black girl. He knew that Anona and their baby girl, Naylah, couldn’t rest until he had set their souls free by killing the very people who had destroyed his fairytale.
Weeks of planning had gone into how it would be done. Donald snuck into his parent’s home when he knew their tired, old asses would be asleep. He crept into their room where they slept in two separate beds like the old fashion biddies they were. He swung the metal bat against his mother’s head first, causing a sickening thump that sounded like a watermelon being dropped from five stories down to the pavement. She
never even knew what was happening. She was dead before she could fully wake. Donald’s father stirred from the commotion, and could barely sit up before his son descended upon him.
“You no good son of a bitch. You took my whole world from me because you can’t accept people. So you see your dead wife over there? You will be joining her in hell. Donald had taken hold of his father around the throat and forced him to look at his dead wife’s bloody, battered body. Her head was a heap of mush, and the elder Gatsby couldn’t bear to look at her.
“Look at her mother fucker!” Donald screamed. “Do you know what it felt like to walk in on your dead wife’s body? Well, I guess now you can know what it feels like!” His father sobbed his wife’s name over and over again.
“Oh, GiGi. What have I done to you? Oh, GiGi, please forgive me.” He cried.
“Oh, you want that dead bitch to forgive you? What about me? How about you beg for my forgiveness?” Gatsby said as he released his grip from around his father’s neck. He pushed him back into a laying position on the bed and ripped away his pajama bottoms.
“Do you know what it’s like to be violated?” He flipped the old man over face down and began brutally raping the old man with the baseball bat that was covered in his dead mother’s blood.
Gatsby slipped into a state of metal unstableness, and couldn’t control his actions. He just wanted his father to feel the pain that he had inflicted upon Anona. Gatsby had been so deep in thought about Anona and Naylah that he hadn’t realized that his father had passed out. The only thing that brought him to his senses was the smell of the blood and shit that was now covering the bat. He quickly removed the bat and rushed to the bathroom, careful not to touch anything in any of the rooms. He began cleaning the bat and wiping down anything he had touched. When he had re-entered his parent’s bedroom, his father was semi-conscious and moaning in agony. Gatsby rushed to his side and pulled the gun he had brought with him to finish the job. He shook his father until he parted his eyes.
“Did you do it Dad?” Gatsby asked his father holding the gun tight in his hands.
His father was barely audible. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. Gatsby shook him again and asked his father again, “Did you kill my wife and daughter?” His father smiled a sickening smile and shook his head up and down.
“Yeah, I killed them and if I woulda’ known that black bitches had good pussy like that, I would have had me some of that years ago too. Fuck you!” The old man sputtered. That almost drove Donald crazy. He placed the nine millimeter to the old man’s temple and told him to enjoy purgatory, the he pulled the trigger.
That had been ten years ago. Thinking back on it felt like someone had opened the wounds and poured salt into them. Gatsby never regretted killing his parents. He didn’t regret burning their half-a-million-dollar home to the ground, and walking away like ain’t shit happen. If he had it all to do again, he would. Anything for Anona and Naylah.
Gatsby sat up when he saw YaSheema pull up into the driveway. He watched her walk back down the driveway to the Lexus that had been at the crime scene the night before. She popped the trunk and examined the contents inside. Apparently, whatever was in the trunk was something that she didn’t care to share with the rest of her prestigious Georgetown neighbors, because the way she looked around surveying her surroundings warned Detective Gatsby that something was inside that car that he wanted to see. She hopped in the car and moved it into the garage and closed the mechanical doors behind her and the cars.
Gatsby sunk back into his seat. His partner had missed the whole damn scene because she was too busy Facebooking to care about what was going on with the Clayton girl. Gatsby knew there was more to it than YaSheema was letting on, but he would be there when she either slipped up or was ready to tell the truth. Gatsby had had enough of watching the girl for the day. He decided he would call it quits, head to his empty home, and drown his sorrows and misery with a bottle of whatever he had in his liquor cabinet. He pulled his unmarked car from the curb just as the tow truck pulled up into the driveway.
Chapter 15
The Cross Roads Nightclub Bar and Grill
Peace Crossing
Hyattsville, MD
I had taken all of the bags out of the car and discovered that Papi was holding some major figures in the trunk. I had also pulled out all of the stuff I had taken from his house. There was over five hundred thousand dollars bundled in those stacks. There was more coca in the car than I cared to put my hands on, but I knew I had to get it out of there before Benny’s boys came to scoop up the car.
I removed ten grand out of the stacks and thought how lucky I was to not have to come out of pocket on any of the shit going down. Not only did my Papi situation get handled, but the money issue with his killer had resolved itself as well. I sent a text to Juan and let him know that I had retrieved all of the money and he sent me a reply telling me where to meet him to drop it off. I wasn’t happy about having to see him again, but if I wanted to be rid of him and not bring anymore drama, then I knew I had better meet him. I decided for that for the transaction, I wasn’t going to go alone. I was going to take Pinky with me just in case Juan wanted to go back on his word.
Pinky was this broad who worked for Daddy every now and again. She was just as ruthless as any nigga on the streets. She may have been worse because she didn’t look like a threat. She looked like your average hood bitch. You would never guess she was packing heat. I didn’t have to get up with Juan until later in the evening and I had already hipped Pinky to my plan, so I had some time to kill. I went to the rec room and found Neko playing a game on the PS3.
“Hey boy, what you up too?’ I asked him.
“Nothing just playing Madden. Why? What you got planned?”
“I was thinking maybe we could go out and do something. Maybe go eat. Have you seen Daddy?” I inquired.
“Naw, I haven’t seen Pop since earlier. We had breakfast and you know how he do.”
“Oh well, are you game for going out to eat? Daddy is going to have to catch us on the next trip.”
“Yeah, as long as you’re paying, I am eating.” He laughed.
I stood in the rec room and looked at my little brother and admired him. He was becoming a fine young man and I was so proud of him. My mother could never afford him the things that Daddy and I could. I guess he could feel me staring at him.
“Why are you standing there grinning at me?” He quizzed.
“I am looking at you because you are me, smart ass.” I laughed.
He had the same stormy grey eyes as I did. I guess that was the only thing our no good ass Momma gave us. Or so I thought. We rolled out to the Harbor to enjoy each other’s company.
“YaYa, what was it like growing up like this?” Neko asked over dinner.
“What do you mean, ‘like this?’?” I quizzed.
“I mean with all the money and all the stuff that Pop has. I have never had anything. Christa ain’t care about what happened and she only lived to get high.” He said.
“I never really took the time to think about what life would have been like if I didn’t have money. I mean, Daddy didn’t make his money like most folks do, so life was different. I guess life has been good. It is much better now that I have you in it.” I said truthfully.
“Well, I am glad that I have you now because Christa wasn’t shit and I know she was going to lead me down a path of destruction. Whatever happened to her YaYa? Did she really just leave me with ya’ll?”
“Neko, she was no good to any of us. She had to go. I asked her to leave and she left. I guess she went on to get high and just kept going. I told her she could do anything she wanted with herself, but she was not going to include you in the equation and she left.”
I could not believe I had lied to him about where his no count ass mother was, but he was better off not knowing anymore than that.
“Well, whatever her reason for rolling out, I sure am glad she left me with you.” He smiled.
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br /> Neko and I talked more about how he was excited about starting a new school and the friends he had made. We talked so much that I almost forgot about the business I had to tend to. I had forty-five minutes until it was time to meet up with Juan and Pinky. I decided to just take Neko with me because it was no way I was going to be able to make it across town and back in enough time. All I wanted to do was get Juan out of my hair and the sooner the better. Pinky hit me on my cell and let me know she was in route to where we were supposed to meet Juan. Neko and I were already in the car listening to the CD Crack had given me.
I was a little nervous taking Neko with me; but I had no other choice. I whipped around the beltway to Capital Heights to the Addison Road metro station Juan told me to meet him at. I got there ten minutes before I was to meet Juan. As soon as I parked, I saw Pinky dismount her hot pink Ducati. When Pinky hopped off her bike and removed her helmet to reveal a head full of hot pink locks with blond tips, I could see Neko staring her down like if he could jump into her pants, he would. I had to admit Pinky was the truth. She was stacked from head to toe. She was beautiful, and she almost made me envious of the fiyah she possessed. Although she was beautiful, she was also very deadly. Quick to cock, aim, and shoot. That’s why I knew she had to come along because where some niggas would bitch up; Pinky wasn’t scared to make her Nina clap. Best of all, she didn’t look like an assassin and no one would expect it coming from her 5’4” frame. Her high yellow skin glowed and it was speckled with the cutest brown freckles. Her outwardly appearance gave her a youthful teenage look that would make niggas suspect she was more of an overly-developed eighteen year old than a twenty-eight year old killer.
I told Neko to wait at the car for me and no matter what happened; he was to stay in the car unseen. He wanted to question me, but I gave him a look that said that it wasn’t the time for Q and A. I walked over to Pinky with my Gucci heels clicking against the pavement with every nervous step I took. I patted the small of my back with my right hand to make sure “Chase” was where she should be in case shit got sticky. I wasn’t going to be caught without her again. I carried the money in my left hand. I was surveying my surroundings cautiously behind my Dolce frames that hid me eyes from outsiders who tried to enter the doorway to my soul. Pinky and I joined each other and walked about twenty paces to where I was to meet Juan. As I was filling her in on the exchange, a white Mercedes CLS 550 pulled up in front of us. The window rolled down just enough for me to see Juan’s face peek over the opening.
