by Brick
All I saw was Lelo’s body hitting the floor. Heard Stitch’s yells of no as he watched the man he loved fall to the floor. Smiley came out from under the stairs. Her bullets chased Mark around the room as he ran for cover. Auto dropped his gun. Ran up behind my cousin Rubio, who had set his sights on Reagan and Stitch. Auto looked like something out of a Rambo movie when he pulled the hunting knife from the belt of his pants and sliced Rubio’s neck from ear to ear. And just to make sure my cousin would die, Auto shoved the knife in Rubio’s back, where his kidneys were, four times before he let his body drop to the floor in a heap.
My cousin Jeremy was so thrown off by the fact I was shooting at him that he never saw Smiley sneak up behind him and put a bullet through the back of his head. I looked at Freddie, who was writhing in pain on the floor. I’d shot him only to spare his life, since he had been firing blindly in a direction none of my friends were in. Me shooting him would save his life once the old man found out what I’d done.
Mark rushed out from behind a car to drag his brother to safety. Another shooter, my cousin Tyree, let go a spray of bullets that sent us all ducking for cover.
“You fucking kill your own, Maria Rosa?” Mark called out to me, the panic and alarm in his voice clear. “You’re done, puta. Finished when Papa finds out. You’re done!”
While the gunman kept shooting, I could see Mark dragging Freddie out of the garage to the safety of their getaway car. Auto crept up behind Tyree. Auto’s quick slashes with his knife and one stab underneath Tyree’s arm stunned him. Two more through Tyree’s ribs on either side sent him into a tailspin. Auto moved like lightning, dropped down to one knee, and jabbed the knife into both femoral arteries, pulling the blade out so quickly that blood spewed like a geyser.
Sobs echoed around the garage. My heart started to hurt at the guttural, wrenching sounds coming from Stitch. I turned to see him sitting behind Lelo, his arms wrapped around him, as Lelo fought to breathe. Gargling sounds could be heard coming from his throat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, man! Come on, baby. Just relax. Just breathe for me please,” Stitch begged.
Lelo was trying to say something, but every time he did, blood pooled in his mouth. He was shaking as he held on to his lover’s hand. There was a wild look of panic in his eyes. The same in Stitch’s eyes. The shop seemed to spin around me as my vision took in Reagan cradling Seymore in her arms. He was already gone. In the waiting area Jackknife was using sign language to let us know Dunkin was also no longer with us. My hands started to shake as my grip on the handles of the guns got tighter.
“No, no, no, no!” Stitch yelled out. I watched as he rocked back and forward.
Lelo’s short spurts of breath started to get slower and slower as the light dimmed in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, man. I’ll do the fucking dishes. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t leave me and the kids. Carmen and I can’t do this shit alone, man,” Stitch pleaded. “We need you. Four kids, baby. We have four. Me and Carmen going to kill each other if you ain’t there to stop us. Please don’t go . . .”
Bloody tears rolled down Lelo’s face. He held on until he couldn’t any longer.
“Ahhh! God, why? Why? Why do you take everything from me? Why?” Stitch cried out.
Reagan’s muffled sobs crawled up my spine. She had a fistful of Seymore’s shirt as she cried into his lifeless shoulder. Smiley was holding her shoulder as she stood back. It was as if the sight of death did something to her. Her body was in the room, but it looked as if her mind had traveled somewhere else. I turned to search for Auto, only to find his gun aimed at me.
“Get out,” he ordered me. “Get the fuck out!”
“Au-Auto, what’re you doing?” Reagan asked.
“Auto . . . I’m so . . . I’m so sorry,” I cried in a whisper.
“Code, get out,” he told me as he fought to hold back tears. His lips were set in a tight frown. “Get out before I kill you.”
“Auto, stop. She’s family,” Reagan yelled, defending me in her ignorance at the moment.
I had no words. Had no defense. As I exited the garage, I knew that none of us would ever be the same.
I drove around aimlessly for what seemed like hours. I knew soon enough Papa would come looking for me. Betrayal of family was never left unpunished. I needed help. Needed someone to protect Auto and the team when I no longer could. I was thinking ahead of the game. As I walked in the entrance of the apartment complex, people watched me. They watched the girl dressed in all white with a Desert Eagle in her hand. It was Garden Walk, after all. No one would call the cops. No one would think it was out of the norm for someone to brandish firearms on this side of town. It was the hood, always a war zone. The “no snitching” policy always in effect.
While none of the normal tenants would stop me, Oya, Shango, Alize, and Shredder wouldn’t be so quick to look the other way. They all stopped me when I was midway to Boots’s apartment, guns aimed, cocked, and ready.
“I need to see Boots,” I told them.
“Not carrying heat like that you don’t,” Shango said.
“What do you need to see him for?” Alize asked.
“This is important. Just get him or get out of my way.”
Neither of them moved. If I’d been in another frame of mind, I could have easily taken them out. If I were here to cause harm, I wouldn’t have come through the front gate. The loud music ceased. People started to rush inside their apartments. Parents snatched small children by their hands and pulled them inside.
“Nah. Not until you tell us what’s so important that you had to come brandishing firearms,” Shango replied.
I didn’t have time for the games. “Boots!” I yelled loudly.
I knew he could hear me. Knew he could see me. The security cameras on the poles deemed it so.
I called out loudly to him again. “I know you can hear me. We need to talk!”
Just as I thought it would, the door to his apartment building opened. He nodded toward his guards to let me pass. He stood in his signature cowboy boots; these seemed to be made of a skin I couldn’t readily identify. Black denims, a white button-down, and a black vest made up his attire. A gun sat nestled against his hip as he studied me.
“Talk,” he demanded.
“I know who took your last shipment and replaced it with children and drugs. May be able to help you get your first shipment back, but you have to help me first.”
Chapter 2 0
Boots
“I’m destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it, ’cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as five percenters. But somethin’ must’ve got in us, ’cause all of us turned to sinners . . . ,” Nas sang in the background.
In every story, there’s always a villain, ran through my mind while I sat behind my screen, staring at the gunplay going down outside a little auto shop hidden in Morrow, Georgia, thanks to PT’s correspondence. I had sent him there on the low to watch them and to deliver a message about discussing our negotiating partnership, but that had been cut short by the images being sent to me via PT’s cell. It was quite unfortunate that shit had gone down the way it had. It messed with the business I was about to do. More like put it on pause. Nas continued his rhyming in the background. Fingers tented against my lips, I gave a sigh, then turned the monitor off.
“So, son, that’s the crew you intended to do business with?” my pops asked out of concern. We were speaking by video chat.
“Yes sir, it is . . .” I paused when I saw a familiar face walking toward my apartment complex on the security monitors. Some shit was coming my way in the form of a lovely devil, and it had me curious about what it was.
“My task was to get close eventually. But thanks to the business with our enemy, he helped me faster than I had intended. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to protect them from this surprise attack. Having my men step in would have exposed my hand and possibly put them at more risk,” I explained, hoping he would understand and
think along the same lines as me.
“It is unfortunate, but it just shows how he hasn’t changed much in how he flexes his power and reveals his pride. If the leader was strong enough to be with my grandson and have his trust, then I hope he is strong and smart enough to see the weakness presented in that attack. Find a way to help them if you truly seek to do business with them.”
I gave my father a respectful nod of understanding. It fell on my shoulders to help in my own way. So I would think of something to do that would be as inconspicuous as possible. The enemy of my enemy was now my friend. I could see Code being questioned by my team. After hitting a button on my laptop, I flipped the image so that my father could see what was going on.
He gave a deep chuckle. “The lizard that enters into a scorpion’s hole will come back with its rear. That was told to all the young men running with the king. I held it close to my heart, and my first wife snatched your old man’s ass due to that principle. Then, later, your mother did the same before she died in her grief, so watch out. She’s your type, but I know that the old adage of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer might help in this.”
I really didn’t know what a lizard’s tail had to do with a scorpion’s hole or how it pertained to the situation at hand. Still, I listened to my pops. Sometimes the meaning of the things he said came to me later.
“What do you suggest, then, Dad?” I asked out of respect just to gain a little more wisdom here.
“My enemy doesn’t have to be your enemy, son. This battle is not your obligation, as I’ve always told you, and I wish I’d been able to tell your brother and my grandson. But that is my regret, and not knowing where they were. I never wanted you to become involved in this age-old war. I trained you to be the best, to go beyond me. Gave you additional teachers until your own mind was sharp enough for even me to want to follow. Trust in your own plan. Do with it as you wish. I will be proud always, because you are my son. This gang family is nothing compared to that. I lost too much to let it be. Besides, dipping into an Orlando has happened with our family of Kings, as you know. It will not be anything new . . .”
Pride gave me armor while I laughed at his words. On the monitor, I saw my father reclined in the backseat of his ride. The interior was upholstered in houndstooth black-and-cream leather, and the car’s back windows were blacked out, so he sat in the shadows. I knew he was out of the country because of our previous conversation.
I glanced at my monitors before answering him, still laughing at his words. “This fight is about our justice for my brother and his son, my nephew. You say I wasn’t born into this battle, but I say I was, Dad. So I’m going to do this even if I die in the process.”
Code stood surrounded by my people, and the fact that she knew I was watching made me smile in amusement. “Dad, we’ll speak again soon. Thank you for the details on my new guns. Make sure to remind the shop to place a smiling face on each one in respect to its creator.”
“Of course . . .” A pause came on his end, then the sound of a car door opening and closing.
I glanced over to check on my old man and saw the shape of a second person, a curving leg, then the side profile of a woman I swore was Naomi Campbell. She wore all black with a pop of purple, like my people usually did. In her hand was a machete, which she lovingly tucked into her mink fur coat. Her ruby-red lips parted into a plump curve. That spark of intimacy between the two had me watching her and my father as they reached toward each other in a loving hug before they leaned back and he glanced my way.
Dad had always taught me to remember my surroundings, and this was one of those times where I had to add up the clues quickly. It didn’t take me long when I saw the keloid tribal marks that went over her shoulder and down her arm as her hand carefully touched my father’s left kneecap. Her hand dropped to feel the false leg there. She was showing her respect, and I liked her for that. The cascading mark she had was something no other woman was allowed to have but her. A woman who was a Supreme Queen, to be exact. A Nigerian Kulu Queen.
Excitement had me hyped at the move my father was making. While I was growing up, I had heard of her tales, how they ruthlessly hunted their enemies and survived their own battle against our common enemy. I had sat at my father’s feet, listening to stories about how she and her husband had trained their daughter to be a lethal princess and now the American faction African Queen she was. The ancestors were being resurrected as they tried to protect the next generation.
“I will be off the grid for my meeting, son, and in the air, traveling,” I heard my father say. “Continue as we spoke about. I have others to gather. We will speak soon,” he added before the monitor went blank, leaving me to my own thoughts and my plan.
After pushing back from my desk, I entered my standard code, then flipped everything back to its typical feed. I grabbed one of my flavored toothpicks, stuck it in my mouth, and adjusted my Glock so that it showed. Then I strolled out to the front of my apartment building to greet my guest. I studied her with a great deal of distrust. She had too many secrets for my taste, but I wouldn’t be who I was if I did not desire to know just how deep her game of deceit really went.
So, I shifted in my boots and crossed my arms over my chest. “Talk.”
Only seriousness danced behind Code’s whiskey-brown eyes. Her lush lips formed a thin line, and the bruises that peppered her face only added to the badass bitch image she gave off. “I know who took your last shipment and replaced it with children and drugs. May be able to help you get your first shipment back, but you have to help me first.”
My crew started to put up a loud protest. I grinned at the shorty in front of me for changing this old Shakespearean battle between my family and hers. I knew whatever she was here for would make me shift my chess pieces on the board. So I was very pleased at the maneuver I had to decide to take in the reveal of this new move.
I slid my hands in my pockets, and my tongue moved my toothpick in my mouth back and forth. I had a huge grin on my face while I looked down at her. “Everyone, again, be chill. Before I decide if she’s going to eat metal, she and I have to have a conversation. Like any of my guests seeking me out for business, you will show her a little respect. You all know this, right?”
I addressed Code. “Follow me,” I said while I moved to the side and held my hand out for her to follow.
Her lovely eyes locked on me, and I saw her uncertainty. My father’s words came back to me in full force. She has too many secrets, ran in my mind on repeat while I followed her and enjoyed the way her body moved. But she was a bad chick, and I guessed that meant in order to do what I needed to do, getting close to the enemy by making her my friend was the new phase of the plan, for now.
Was this some stupid shit I was doing? Probably, but even so, no matter how interesting pussy was, there was no way that I was about to allow it to control or dictate how I was pursuing my hidden agenda. So for now, I planned to see what she needed, and judging by the looks of things that I had seen on the monitor, and by her appearance, shelter was what it was.
After closing the door to my office behind me, I locked it and saw her turn sharply. “Relax. Tell me what you need, and we can see if we can come to an agreement.”
I moved past her, offered her a chair in front of my desk before I went into my pantry, where I kept a med kit. After walking back her way, I waited, then tossed it to her.
“Talk, or we can end it now,” I said.
Code flipped the med kit between her fingers, then quietly opened it. “I’m not lying, and I know who has your stuff and why they took it.”
“A’ight, and you’re suddenly eager to give me all the knowledge of the world for . . . ?”
I poured water into a clear glass with ice, and then I headed to my desk and stood directly in front of her. I handed her the glass of water.
“Protection, and I’m good,” she said and shook her head and used her teeth to rip open an ointment packet, then smeared its contents on her
arm, then under her shirt. “Look, I just want my crew to be protected. I know what my old man can do and what he will do to them. I just . . . I mean, I know you can give them that.”
She was right. I could. However, this request for help had me curious about this whole thing. “I’m tempted to see you strip just to make sure you’re not tapped or some shit, but how banged up you are . . . Nah, never mind. When a person is set on playing someone, they can paint a fantasy any way they want just so that they can achieve their agenda. So my thing is this. Mama, what’s yours?”
“I’m not here to play games. I need to lay low, and the best place to do that is where I’d never be caught laying my head down at,” she explained while carefully rolling her top down.
What she said next had me pulling out my chair and taking a seat. Her pretty brown irises darkened. They used to hold a little light but now held a deep-seated darkness. Something akin to vengeance and grief.
“Say I believe you, then. How is coming here any safer for you or your friends, Mama? You know your friends are being watched. The fact that your old man came after both of our goods and effectively swapped them out shows that he is watching me too. Now, any smart person knows about playing the game of illusion and having a dope-ass sleight of hand. That’s what makes any magician a master. So I can guarantee the safety of your friends, but what’s your sleight of hand, Mama?”
“Stop asking me that. I don’t have one. I just . . . I just need to rest my head here and think . . . ,” she said wearily. “Not for long, though, I promise,” she added quickly.
The exhaustion in her eyes and body made me sigh. I watched her quietly, then ran a hand over my waves.
“So can you—will you—do it? Help my people?” I heard her ask while I sat in thought.
I said, “I’m thinking.”
The loud scraping of her chair as she got up, then the sound of her abruptly slamming it, causing it to fall to the floor, made me look up at her, only to get locked in a stare down. “What do I need to do, huh? It’s a simple yes or no. My family isn’t known to beg, but this . . . this shit is different. No matter what my old man says and thinks, those people are my family. Mi familia. They deserve the best, and not death because of me.”
