by T. Styles
“I love you too,” I tell her reaching out to touch her cold hand. “Very much.” She sits on the floor with me and we hug before separating.
“I figure now is the best time to tell you something about my life,” Scarlett says gently. “Its always best to hear someone else’s horror story when you are dealing with one of your own. Consider this as my sincere gift to you.”
“God bless you,” I smile eager to get my mind off of my troubles.
She takes the bottle of vodka from me and swallows before I can dispute. She’s pregnant and doesn’t need to be drinking.
“I know it’s bad for the baby, but I have to get my mind right,” she says wiping her mouth. “Anyway, I was married before. He was a good husband, but I wasn’t a good wife. We ended up having a daughter, and one night when I was angry, I hurt her bad. The day I met Camp I was due in court to answer for child abuse charges, and I never went. Which is why I have a warrant out for my arrest.”
I’m stunned and confused. “You hurt her how?”
“I don’t want to talk about that, Bambi. I really don’t. I just wanted you to know my truth. And, I’m sorry but that’s all I can say.”
“But you’re pregnant now,” I say eying her small pouch-tummy. “How do you know you won’t hurt that one too?”
“Because I won’t,” she says. “It’s not in my heart anymore.”
While I’m looking at her, I remember Jasmine. Denim always believed Scarlett hurt her, and now that she shared this with me, I wonder if it’s not true. “Scarlett, please tell me you didn’t—,”
“I didn’t hurt Jasmine,” she says. “It was an accident.” She’s quiet for a minute. “Bambi, I’m sharing this with you because it’s time for honesty, but I hope you will keep this between me and you. If Denim finds out about my past she won’t believe the thing with Jasmine was a mistake.”
I had secrets too. Many of them, and I knew what it meant to keep them inside without sharing. But, Jasmine was my niece, and I didn’t want anybody hurting her again.
“Scarlett, I’m going to keep your secret, but you must get help. You about to have a baby, and I need to make sure my niece is safe. Okay?”
“Okay,” she smiles hugging me again. “Thank you, Bambi. And if there is ever anything you want to tell me, you can count on me to keep your secret too.”
I believe her, but some things you have to take to your grave. And, I intend on doing just that.
BAMBI
When I wake up in my bed, I look up at the diamond mirror on the ceiling. I can’t believe we were about to move and leave that mirror behind. By itself it’s worth a half a million dollars.
When I get out of the bed, and my feet nestle into the carpet, I wonder why it’s so quiet. I don’t hear Jasmine’s babbling, Scarlett’s singing or Race’s bumping around in the basement. When I remember that my sons are home, I wonder where they are too. I walk toward my bedroom door until my phone rings. I’m surprised its still on because I had my number transferred to the new house. I pick up the handset, yawn and say, “Hello.”
“Mrs. Kennedy, how are you this lovely morning? Or should I call you Kevin Kennedy, since you did such a great job portraying him the last time we met.”
The phone drops out of my hand and falls to the floor. I stare at it crazily. How did Arkadi get my number? I pick the phone up and say, “Hello?”
“Wow, I almost thought you weren’t going to return. I’m glad to see that you came back. How are you this morning?”
“How did you get my number?” I ask trying to maintain authority in my voice. “And where is Avery?”
“It doesn’t matter, but I would love to speak to your husband. Is he available? Or is he still dead?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I…um…I never met you before. I…I mean…what do you want?” I’m losing control. I’m losing all cool.
“I want to see you again. We must talk in person about this relationship of ours. If it is going to work, we must spend more time together. Just you, and I.”
“I’m not meeting with you,” I say trying to regain control. “And I don’t want you to ever call my house again! Do you hear me? Never call again!”
When I hang up I sit back, and look at the phone. I am praying that The Russians leave us alone. So we wouldn’t be caught with millions of dollars, we buried our money on the land of our new house. What my sisters don’t know was that I called Mitch earlier this week to buy more cocaine. The call didn’t go too well, and he threatened my life for lying to him about Kevin being okay. About, Kevin being dead.
My plan was to take a portion of my money, buy more cocaine and make deliveries to the customers Kevin failed to make. But Mitch said since Kevin was gone he was out of the business and wouldn’t sell anything to me. He said in this business loyalty rules, and that the Kings always kept his anonymity. He said people had been kidnapped and tortured to give up the drug connect. I said I knew about him now, and that I never said anything to anybody, not even the Russians. Mitch said what I know about him is a facade. He said I knew only what he wanted me to know, but that Kevin knows more. So without Mitch, meeting with The Russians at this time would be dumb. If I can’t get the work, I don’t need to meet the Russians again.
I walk around the house and just as I suspect, everyone is gone. I was going to tell them that it was time to move, and that I would not be taking no for an answer. When the doorbell rings, I answer it but no one is there. When I look down there is a small red box on my porch. I duck into the house, grab my gun and go back out. I’m shooting anything I don’t recognize within one second.
I see nothing. After five minutes, I pick up the box and bring it in the house. It takes me another hour to open it because something tells me it is from The Russians. I place the box on the dining room table, open the lid and look inside. I pick up three soft brown things that are soaked in blood. When I realize they are three scalped faces, I drop them, and they fall at my feet. Although I’ve been around enough gore, I never saw it in this element. I’m at home and things like this aren’t supposed to happen here. I’m supposed to be safe.
I walk back up to the box and pick up a picture inside. It’s of Avery, his daughter and his wife. I get it now. It’s a clear message. Crystal clear. I walk back into my bedroom and wait. Before long the phone rings. I know who it is so I take my time answering. “Hello.”
“Now you see that we are serious, Mrs. Kennedy. If you want that to be the condition of your family, we will gladly oblige,” Arkadi says.
“When we met with you, you knew who we were?” I ask as my hands shake.
“We found out earlier that day that Kevin and the Kings were killed. We weren’t sure if the meeting would still go down, and was surprised when we saw all the things you ladies went through just to meet with us. Although you were not men, you were very convincing. You did an outstanding job.”
“That’s why your brother called us pretty kings.”
He laughs and I hate his creepy voice. “I slapped my brother later for that mistake. Unfortunately he can’t keep secrets as good as I can,” he pauses. “Well, enough with the pleasantries, I want to meet with you again, Bambi. Without the man clothes that is.”
“Look, I can’t get any more work,” I tell him. “My supplier has cut me off so meeting you will be in vain. You gonna have to find somebody else.”
“Why find someone else when I have you? Your brand is highly sought after.” He pauses. “And if you even think about leaving, let me give you the new address to your home. It’s 1456 Feather Lane.” My heart rate increases. “Your new house is quite lovely, but it won’t save you from me or my organization if I want to touch you.”
“So you were responsible for that white man following me all those times?”
“Of course, and I know more about you than you think. I will call you in two days with the details of our meeting. By the way, we saw your sons and they’re very handsome young men. It would be a shame
to kill them before they even had a chance to make you proud.”
BAMBI
It’s darker tonight than it usually is outside, and I feel something evil coming on. As I watch my sons climb into my mother’s car and pull off, tears roll down my face. I didn’t want them to go away so soon, but I knew they couldn’t stay here either. Although I knew The Russians weren’t lying when they said they knew everything about my family, I would rather them come at me then my children. On my request Denim sent Jasmine to be with her mother Sarah, although she fussed about it the entire time.
When they leave I walk back into the living room with my sisters. They are sitting on the sofa waiting for what I have to tell them. “There’s a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Denim asks as she stands and approaches me. “Are you worried about the boys or something?” She scratches her red curly hair. “If you are don’t worry about it, Noah will get over his thing with you. It’ll just take some time…his father just died.”
“No, this isn’t about the twins,” I tell them. “It’s about the Russians.”
“What do you mean?” Race asks sitting next to Scarlett on the sofa. “They got their product, and we have our money. So we should be good to go our separate ways. Right?”
“They knew we weren’t Kevin and them when we held the meeting,” I say. “But, they still wanted the coke and was hoping that Mitch would make the drop off. We fucked them up when we brought the work and showed up instead as men. Now they want to meet with me again.”
“But we can’t get more coke,” Denim says. “What we did was a one time thing. You know that.”
“They don’t care that the arrangement was temporary,” I try to explain. “Since we were able to get our hands on that much cocaine, they assumed we could get more. What they really want is Mitch, and they’re using us to try to get to him.”
“Bambi, you have to get us out of this shit,” Race says. “All I want to do is move on and start a life. I can’t be involved in any of this shit.”
While I am looking at Race’s lips, I notice a sudden flurry of sparkles behind Scarlett’s head. When her eyes popped open, and red blood traces down her left arm, I know immediately what’s happening. What I thought was sparkles was actually shattered glass coming from the living room’s window. Someone is shooting from the outside, into our home. Since we didn’t hear a sound, they must be using silencers.
“Get on the floor!” I yell. “Somebody is shooting!”
I try not to focus on Scarlett’s bloodied body. Please God don’t let her be dead. I can’t think about her right now. I need my mind right. If the Russians are trying to kill us I don’t understand why. As far as I know we have an understanding. I was waiting on their call so we could schedule a meeting. So why do this to my family?
Scarlett’s limp body falls off of the sofa and to the floor. Denim tumbles to the carpet and crawls toward Scarlett. When Denim has Scarlett’s body, she drags her out of the line of fire and into the basement.
With Scarlet safe, I unleash the hammer from my waist and rush to the window. Before I could let off one shot, I notice someone out of the corner of my eyes busting off too. Race is by the window blasting shot after shot. I can’t believe how confident she is holding the .45. It’s like she owns it.
With her help, I fire out of the window next to the door. Another bullet comes crashing into the window next to where I am, but it misses me. When I feel a stream of cold air, I see the door open and Race rushing outside. The blasts from her gun are persistent and I wonder how many bullets she has left.
I follow her outside and see all of our cars in the driveway have flat tires and shattered windows. They don’t want us to get away. This is an assassination attempt. When I see a man approach her from the left, I fire into his head and throat. The sound of Race’s clicking gun tells me she’s out of bullets. “Go reload, Race! I got this.”
Instead of going back into the house, she drops the gun and releases another from the back of her jeans. Her and I both manage to kill three more men together to protect our home. We fire at anybody trying to do us harm. I wish I knew who these people were.
When I see a black Yukon pull up in our driveway, I’m about to fire into the windows until someone says, “Get your family and let’s go! About five niggas are on the way to kill anything breathing in that mansion. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask still aimed in his direction.
“Cloud sent me. I’m one of his friends,” he looks behind him. “Are you coming or what?”
“How do I know it’s not a set up?” Race asks.
“Because with all this time I could’ve shot you already,” he looks behind him again. “Now unless ya’ll want to get out of here yourself, come the fuck on! You got two minutes.”
I thought about losing my friend Tatiana in the war, and realized I couldn’t lose another person I loved. Since our transportation is ruined, and we didn’t have another way out I say, “Race, get into his truck. I’m going to get Denim and Scarlett.”
I rush into the house, and run down into the basement. The moment I reach the bottom step, I slip on Scarlett’s red blood. When I look at my clothes, her blood is everywhere on me, and I can’t help but think about the baby she’s carrying. I hope the child is alive. I get up off of the floor.
“Denim, help me get Scarlett up the stairs,” I yell. “We gotta get out of here now. Some niggas are on their way to finish us off.”
Together we pull Scarlett up the stairs and hoist her into his truck. Scarlett’s head rests in Denim’s lap and her eyes are barely open. The driver peels out of the driveway and we enter the path of three cars full of killers. Race rolls the window down, fires out of the truck and kills the driver in the first car. The other two cars crash into the back of him causing a major explosion.
Our driver manages to get us off of our property before any more damage can be done. We are on the road for a minute until Denim looks down at Scarlett and says, “She’s going to die!” Denim looks at me. “She’s losing too much blood. I gotta get her to the hospital.” When we reach a light, God must’ve been on Scarlett’s side because a cop car is next to us. Denim opens the door and hops out.
“What the fuck are you doing?” The driver asks trying to look normal in the truck although a cop is next to him. “We got fire arms in here!”
“Saving my friend’s life,” Denim says pulling Scarlett out into the street. “Ya’ll go ahead.”
“I’m going with you,” I say moving to get out.
“No! You got too much blood on you,” she looks behind her probably to make sure the killers aren’t back on our trail. “I don’t want them thinking you did this. Just get out of here!” She slams the door and hits the truck with her hand. “Go now!”
When the driver pulls off, from the back window I see the police officers helping Scarlett out of the street.
As I think about everything, my head spins. What is happening to us? Who wants us dead? And, more importantly why?
After twenty minutes we end up in the Frederick Douglas housing project in Southeast Washington DC, nicknamed Emerald City. The driver parks the truck, opens Race’s door and says, “Come with me.”
We follow him into a building and down some stairs. We approach a door and I look behind me. Although I have one bullet in my gun, I plan to use it wisely if something kicks off.
Our driver gets in front of us, removes a key from his pocket and opens the door. He goes in first, and Race second followed by me. The moment the door is closed behind us, Race is kicked in her face with a Nike boot, and knocked out. I’m about to use my bullet wisely when I’m struck in the face with a man size blow. I’m out cold.
****
When I come to, I’m on the floor, leaning against a wall next to Race. Our wrists are tied behind our backs and the driver is sitting in a chair with three men behind him.
“Are you okay?” I ask Race. She doesn’t respond. She
seems stuck or mad at me.
“I hope they didn’t hit you too hard,” the driver says to me looking at the tall man to his left. “I told the nigga that you were a lady, and he didn’t have to hit you that hard. After all, once we took your guns you were harmless.” I examine him without him knowing. I’m looking for weaknesses. Something I learned in the military. He’s shorter than he appeared in the truck, not very attractive and wearing a bulky cell phone on his hip.
“Cut the shit,” I say. “What do you want with us?”
“You are as smart as you are beautiful,” he says. “Because of it, I’ll respect your question. First let me introduce who—”
“Nigga, I’m not interested in who the fuck you are,” I tell him. “I’m a trained killer. And before long your name won’t matter because John Doe will be used to describe your body.”
All three of them laugh at me. I remain as serious as I was when I started.
“How do you plan on doing that? I’m the one holding all of the cards not you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Because if you were holding all the cards, you wouldn’t be holding me and my friend hostage. It’s obvious that I have something you want. So you need me, not the other way around.”
He nods. “Very smart,” he replies telling me something I already know. “My name is Donatello, and I understand that since Kevin has been gone that you and the other bitches have inherited a rack of coke or money. Which one is it?”
“Who told you that?”
“The late great Bunny,” he replies.
I look at Race and we both shake our heads. “Bunny lied to you, and that’s why I took care of the bitch. That close casket funeral...that was my handy work.” When I feel Race staring at me I remember that she and my other sisters did not know I was involved with Bunny’s murder before now. But, I don’t have time to explain to her why I killed Bunny. Our lives are on the line. “I don’t have anything you asking for, so all that shit you staged at my house was for nothing.”
