by Brick
I gave Javon a slow blink. His words were like a sledgehammer to the chest. “That man was like a father to me.”
“Mama was like a mother to Melissa.”
“Fuck you, Javon,” I barked out.
Nephew took a step back, which was probably in his best interest. I had a good mind to knock him clean on his ass.
“I was in Creek Town with your fucking mother, killing the nigga who had sexually violated her body.” I was pissed at Javon, so fucking angry that he would even suggest such a crock of shit that my hands shook. “I think you hit ya fucking head harder than you think.”
Javon tilted his head to the side, then studied me. “Answer my question, Unc,” he said, like he didn’t give a fuck about my anger.
The wind whipped around us like it was just as angry as I was. I wanted to lie, but I knew that I couldn’t. Not when it was possible that Javon already knew the truth and was testing me.
“There was something King made me promise not to ever tell Mama,” I said. “And I never did. I loved that woman with every breath of me, but out of loyalty and respect to King, I never revealed his secret, because even in death, he was the only father I’d ever known.”
Javon licked his lips as he nodded.
I said, “That man plucked me from the streets. I was trying to steal from him, and he took me in. Fed me that night. Took me to Ms. Dutchess’s place. Told me to rest and eat, because come morning, I was going to work to pay him what I’d stolen from him. He was my role model from that moment onward.”
“I understand, Unc. You don’t have to explain. However, I think it was that secret that got him killed.”
“Wait. You think King Senior not being his real father got him killed?” I asked.
“It’s logical, don’t you think? He didn’t tell Mama so he could keep her safe.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he told me that if she ever knew his true lineage, it could get her killed. Hell, I didn’t know his true lineage. I just knew King Sr. wasn’t his father. And King had it coded in his journal. Mama was probably too grief stricken to pick up on it. She always had a tough time reading that thing.”
Javon’s eyes widened a bit. “So you’re saying, you knew his father wasn’t his father, but you didn’t know who his real father was?”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t tell me that. He only told me about King Sr. And that was only because I’d overheard them arguing one day. King Sr. was telling him not to trust those people. Said that his real father would never truly accept him, no matter how much he pretended to love him.”
“What people?”
“I wasn’t sure at the time, but I assumed he was talking about whoever King’s real father was.”
“What happened at the last summit meeting before King was killed?”
“That was a few months prior. Like, six months prior maybe. Same thing that normally happened at those meetings. A lot of posturing and shit talking. Territories got rearranged. Money was discussed and split accordingly. Capers were discussed. Cops and FBI agents on the payroll. By then they had the DEA and prosecutors on the books too. King was a big topic. Cristophano Acardi, Luci’s father—”
Glass shattering and a man’s loud yell interrupted our conversation. I looked up to see a man flying from the top floor of the hospital. Since Luci was on the basement level, that meant one of Lucky’s men had been tossed. Just as that thought settled in, rapid gunfire erupted in the building and mixed with loud yells and screams.
My right arm was already jacked from the bullet I took to it earlier, and shooting with my left, even though I could do it, was taking some getting used to. I turned to lay my eyes on Javon. Nephew shoved me back into the building before taking aim at the hooded figures coming out of the shadows in the alley. I fell on the trash-littered floor just as Cory and Lucky came bolting up the stairs.
“Where my brother?” Cory yelled.
I got up in a fit of rage. “Crazy ass shoved me inside—”
I got cut off. This time by Javon’s agitated yelling. “Motherfucker!” we heard Javon yell.
Lucky and Cory tore through the front doors. I was right behind them. Javon had a hooded figure on the ground and was pummeling his face, while another lay flat on his back, a bullet hole in his face the size of a crater on the moon.
Javon looked at us. “Nigga tried to cut me. You niggas just don’t quit,” Javon yelled as he shoved a knife in the man’s throat, then proceeded to use his hand to open the wound further.
It looked like the nephew was trying to rip the man’s head off. He looked like a fucking madman. Then again, people had been trying to kill us since we had stepped foot in New York. That was enough to drive anybody mad. I saw headlights coming down the street.
“Javon, get inside!” Lucky yelled.
Javon looked over his shoulder just before he rushed inside the building with the rest of us.
“Down to the basement,” Lucky said as his men made a beeline to the doors.
By the time we got to the basement, the shit had hit the fan. We’d been invaded. Robed figures were all around. Mary had hunting knives in her hands and was working them like she was a chef at Benihana. After she stabbed one man with a backhand jab to his sternum, she yanked out the knife and hit another one with a quick dice to the throat.
I heard Cory grunt behind me. He’d taken a blow to the face. It angered the boy so much that he fell back into the wall, bounced right up, and shot his attacker point-blank in the face.
“Bitch-ass nigga,” he snarled, wiping the man’s brain matter from his face.
Lucky was hunkering down around a corner, shooting, trying to get to his father’s room. Jules and Dan were flanking him, taking out hooded figures left and right. It was like the Wild Wild West in this place.
“Mom,” Lucky yelled. “Giana.”
He stepped out into the hall, two Desert Eagles in his hands, and shot his way through the melee. I heard maniacal laughter; I looked to my right to see Javon fighting with a man. He was blocking body shots. Once he got tired of doing that, he bounced on the heels of his feet and sent a rapid succession of punches to the man’s face, and that was right before he shoved the man into Mary so she could give him a Zorro slice across the abdomen.
I saw all of that while I shot to kill anything in a robe that moved. At that point, Jesus could have caught a bullet if he had on a robe. I got football tackled into a wall. The hit knocked the wind out of me. Once I went down, the man faked at me. I jerked back. My arm was paining me to the point that I almost felt crippled by the injury. He kicked my gun away, then smiled down at me.
I didn’t like being fucked with, so I found the strength to pull myself up. He let me get halfway to my feet before he tackled me again. The young buck laid my old ass out. I was getting way too old for this shit. Once I was down, he pulled out his guns, but a shotgun blast to the back stopped whatever he thought he was about to do.
The man fell face-first into the wall. I looked up at Javon. Nephew looked demented. Eyes were a bit wild. Gaze was off. He dropped the shotgun and did some kind of crazy dance.
“Nigga, are you doing the Dougie?” Cory asked as he looked his brother up and down like he was crazy.
Javon stopped the dance and shrugged. “Nothing like killing a nigga to get your blood flowing,” was all he said as he picked up his other guns and walked toward Luci’s room.
Mary giggled as she wiped blood from her face. “I like him. He’s funny,” she said. Mary looked like she had just come from Camp Crystal Lake, after killing young adults in the woods.
Cory mumbled, “The nigga needs to see a doctor and quick.”
Lucky rushed into his father’s room after kicking the door open to find Luci trying to crawl out. The man was bleeding from his face, and the wound on his chest was bleeding through the bandages.
“Pops, where’re Mama and Giana?” Lucky asked, helping the old man up from the floor.
Luci really did look as if he was about to die at any mome
nt. “T-took them,” he said in a raspy voice.
“Who took them?” Lucky asked. Panic and fear laced his voice.
“Ab . . . solan.”
Javon glanced at me, skepticism on his features. We didn’t have time to think about that, though. The herd of feet we heard upstairs let us know we had more trouble.
Lucky looked at Jules and Dan. “Get my pops out of here,” he said. “Go. Now!”
Chapter 27
Javon
See, why don’t motherfuckers listen to a nigga when he’s on to something? They pay attention only to what the fuck they wanna hear, and they do not look at all the pieces of the puzzle. I had hit my fucking head hard, but a nigga was thinking with clarity. I told everyone that this shit was inside, that these motherfuckers were going to come after Luci, but what the fuck did they do? Sat around for a goddamned hour, while patching up and not listening to the fuck I said about moving Luci out.
The Absolan link was solid on some level. That nigga was up to shit, and now here we were.
All I could do was laugh to myself, because this shit was like HDTV, clear and fucking concise. Everything I did was for a reason. Everything. Going into that club with a small backup was for a reason. It was to rip the Band-Aid off and get motherfuckers talking, which would help me see what the real deal was. Did I think it was possibly going to get us killed? Hell, the fuck yeah. Why? Because you always planned for the good and the bad. In this world, that was what came from drumming up intel and being a goddamn killer. You mixed it up in seedy locations and handled fucking business. Now here we were, looking dumb as fuck, with our location assed out because no one was hearing me but angels!
“Nephew, who the hell you talking to?” I heard Uncle Snap ask behind me.
Everyone was rushing around. Because of the oncoming bullets, we all had rushed into the nearest room that we could find to wait shit out just for a quick second and get Luciano situated. Behind us were three of our Forty Thieves, one being Alex, who made sure we were cleared.
“Don’t flip ya wig now. We all are listening to you, nephew,” Uncle Snap said by my side. “But you, ah . . . need to get to that doctor.”
I paced back and forth, with my hands gripping the back of my neck. Stress had my hands sweaty. My breath was coming out in ragged gasps because I had just got done handling business. In all, I was little dizzy, but I was good. My mind was going a mile a minute. Seeing a doctor would only slow everything down, and I said as much.
“No disrespect, but does it look like I got time to lay up under some doctor?” I pointed my gun at the door and gave a haphazard chuckle while looking from my uncle to Cory. “Hell to the naw. So you both get that out ya mind for now.... If we make it up out of here . . .”
I thumbed my nose and glanced down at a haggard and gray-hued Luci. There was no doubt disappointment in me. Every original assumption was right, but my need to trust in Mama’s words, her allies, had made me forget one thing. I was here, living and breathing, and I was a damn good judge of character. I had to be in order to keep myself and Cory safe in the streets. I was my brother’s keeper, always. So, staring down at Luci—and I mean really staring down at him—all I could do was thumb my nose in disappointment. Something I felt when I thought about his wife—or baby mama, or whatever she was—Deedee.
There was a loud bang. Following that, I could hear Cory’s cell buzzing.
“What’s an easy exit out of here, Luci?” Cory asked while looking at his cell. He gave a brief smirk, began typing, then looked up while stuffing his cell back in his pocket.
Dust and debris from the old building began to fall around us like rain. Uncle Snap came over to my side. I pointed for him to flank the other side of the door, while we waited like a chicken ready to be baked in the oven. I rolled my shoulders, listening and counting feet.
Luci’s wheezing then coughing signaled that he was ready to talk. “L-Lucky. Show them.”
There was pain in Lucky’s eyes. Everyone in the room could tell that he was worried about his mother and sister, so he was a little off kilter.
“Lucky, man,” Cory stated. When Lucky kept standing there and not responding, Cory frowned. “Lucky.”
“Yeah?” Lucky said in a daze, suddenly regaining his damned hearing.
“Grab those packs of ointment and wound gel. You need to smear that stuff on his wounds to clean them,” Cory explained, pointing around the room. “Then grab that syringe. Squirt it over Luci’s wound that’s bleeding, and then press the sides of the wound together. Throw on some gloves, though. That shit is liquid stitches. It’ll handle the blood trail he might leave if we move him. Be quick with that shit too. Once you do that, wrap him up with the gauze. Then grab that IV back and keep it attached to the old man.”
Both Uncle Snap and I looked at Cory with questions in our eyes.
Cory chuckled, then kept his voice low when he said, “My baby Inez been teaching me some shit. She’s a lifesaver.”
“It’s done,” Lucky said hurriedly, looking around the room. He was kneeling at Luci’s head, which he was propping up with his hand. The homie wiped Luci’s wet brow and kept a hand on his chest. “We need to ride out now.”
My gaze ran around the small room. Beside the stash of medical equipment and medicine were several wheelchairs. “Hey, grab a wheelchair. Dan and Jules, help Lucky with Luci. Luci, where the fuck can we go?”
Luci was coughing again, but he was awake. He pointed to a bare wall that had a glass case of medicines in it, then glanced at Lucky. “Like the wardrobe for your favorite book, son.”
We watched Lucky frown; then his eyes lit up. Quickly, he flung open the large glass case. “Where’s the switch?” He franticly moved bottles and ran his hand around the insides of the drawers of the cabinet.
“Don’t know,” Luci said tiredly. “Just look.”
I stood there, getting antsy, so I rushed forward and helped Lucky. As soon as my hand touched the cabinet, the tips of my fingers found a hinge. You wouldn’t know it was a button if you didn’t know this was an exit. It felt like a regular screw, like the many screws that held the cabinet together.
“Got it,” I said, then watched the inside open. Behind us, Cory and the Thieves were on their shit, lining the place with grenades.
“A’ight. Get him through,” Lucky said.
And that was what we did.
While the inside slide to the side to an open exit, Dani and Jules lifted Luci on their shoulders, then waited for Alex to drop the wheelchair. Mary clicked her watch, which lit up and became a flashlight. She then walked into the tunnel to help with Luci. Once they settled him into the wheelchair, we all hustled into the tunnel. We left the cabinet looking untouched.
“This will get us out. B-but it’ll drop us close to them,” Luci struggled to say.
“It don’t even matter. If they don’t see us, then we’re good,” Cory said.
I kept my mouth quiet; my mind was still calculating and planning. I had questions, but every time I vocalized them, some shit popped up. So as a man who believed in happenstance, I shut the fuck up. We needed to get through this; then I could get my questions out.
“Ah, shit. The fuck was that?” Cory spat out. His locs went flying, and he stomped his feet while running a hand over his face.
“A roach? Spider? A rat?” Jules said, then laughed quietly. “I don’t know, dude.”
“Goddamn it. Warn a nigga,” Cory said, then walked on. “Inez would cackle about this, so any of you talk, I’ll shoot you in the asshole.”
Dark walls surrounded us. Flashes of peppered light shouted out. We could hear our boots crunching on rubble while we moved. WWII was going on in the building, and we could hear it. Men and women screamed. Bullets began flying through our tunnel, which had us stopping mid-step until they ceased.
“This shit is a death trap,” was all I said as we moved on. I was flanked by protection in the back and the front, as were Luci and Lucky.
“You ain’t exp
erienced a damn thing until you’re stuck in the South, in the hot, humid heat, face flat in stinking swamp water and dirt while crawling through insect-infested swamp water,” Uncle Snap said in front of me.
“Explain that shit. We need something to get through this shit,” Cory said. I knew he was doing it for my sake. To get me to chill out, but I was too hyper, so fuck that. But I listened.
“Was right after I strung up that nigga who hurt ya mama,” he explained. “There was something called sundown rules back in that old town.”
Uncle Snap was talking in codes due to the people who were around us. “The rules was this. After you take ya pound of flesh—if that’s what needs ta happen—you string ’em up in the middle of the town, by the station, for the town to see and understand that whateva the perp did wasn’t gonna be tolerated.”
“Those old tales weren’t a joke,” I heard Mary whisper.
“Damn. So you strung him up?” Cory asked.
“Like a fucking prize. Let his body bake while I worked him up and finished the slicing Mama put on him,” Uncle Snap said solemnly.
In my mind, I could see it all. Mama never wrote that part out, but it was like I already knew it. I could see Uncle Snap dragging that nigga Lonnie by his neck out of the juke joint. Could see the man bloodied but still fighting for his life, because that was what humans did. Through it all, there was Uncle Snap, dragging him through the town as the elders watched on their porches and dogs barked in the distance.
“Mama watched on her porch,” I heard him say solemnly. “Her pretty cheeks were covered in tears. Her eyes were red, and her hands were shaking at her sides. Back then, I thought it was because of what I was doing. When she fell to her knees on the porch, I learned that it wasn’t, but I kept on. Kept on because I promised her I’d finish it. So I did.”
