The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

  “I came here today to let you know that I’m gon’ be there for you.”

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that I’m gon’ claim my child, help you financially. Hell, I might even babysit.” Mekel continued to rub her stomach.

  Kera wanted to bring up Terry, but she knew that would be a mistake. Mekel was there with her and that had to be for a reason.

  “Okay, so we gon’ have a baby together.”

  “What have you decided to name it, or do you know what you are having?”

  “I don’t know. I just want him to be a healthy baby.”

  “Oh. A son?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s what’s up. Look, I want the baby to have my last name.”

  “Are you sure?” Kera was baffled by his change in attitude.

  “Positive. I’m gon’ help you.”

  “Thank you.”

  • • •

  Kera and Mekel shared a small embrace. Just as they did so, Terry peered through the patio doors in the rear of the house. The sight of Kera in Mekel’s arms threw her into orbit.

  She raised the gun and aimed at Kera’s head through teary eyes. She wanted to kill that bitch.

  Tatt . . . tatt . . . tatt . . . tatt . . . tatt . . . tatt . . . tatt . . . click . . . click!

  Terry fled, not knowing if she had hit anyone and not even caring. She ran to her Escalade, put the car in reverse and sped off.

  • • •

  Red was awakened by the gunfire, the screech of tires; she managed to peek through her drapes to see Terry’s car speeding off through the neighborhood.

  Red ran out of her room and bumped into Sasha. They both darted down the stairs, taking them two at a time and jumping the last one. When they entered the great room, they found Mekel hovering over Kera in a protective stance.

  “What in the fuck is going on?” Red asked, looking at her rear French doors, which were riddled with bullet holes.

  “Don’t know, but Kera, yo, get your shit. You getting the fuck out of here,” Mekel said.

  “Oh, like my place is hot. The shooter followed yo’ ass here,” Red accused.

  “Girl, please. Ain’t nobody followed me here.”

  “Yeah? I know who the shooter was. I saw ’em from my window.”

  “Who? Who in the fuck wants to kill you?” Mekel asked.

  “You got it all twisted. Who wants to kill you or your baby?” Red asked.

  The four of them looked at one another. Kera was still shaking and in tears.

  “Red, who was it?” Kera asked.

  Red hesitated for a moment. She hated to betray her friend, but the bitch had lost her damn mind, shooting up her place. Before Red sold Terry out, she would make them all sweat. “Before I put salt on anyone, I need to be sure.” She picked up the phone.

  “Yeah, there was a shooting at my house. I need the windows repaired immediately.”

  “Who dat? The police?” Sasha asked.

  “Hell naw, the maintenance man. I need my shit put back together.”

  • • •

  While the foursome was still shaken by the incident, Red wasn’t really as upset as she was initially. She was actually relieved that it was Terry’s fool ass that snapped. Red saw every opportunity as an advantage.

  “Q baby!”

  “Yeah,” Q said sleepily.

  “Somebody shot the house up,” Red said, sounding pitiful.

  “What? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  “Did you call five-oh?”

  “What?” she said distractedly. “No, I didn’t call the police yet.”

  “I’ll be right over,” Q said. Red could hear him getting dressed.

  “All right. I’ll stay put until you get here.”

  Q hung up the phone and was on the way.

  Red went back to her room and called Terry’s dumb ass on her cell phone.

  Terry looked at the caller ID and hesitated. She didn’t know if she should pick up or not, but she also wanted to know if she had indeed hit her target. So she waited until the third ring to answer Red’s call. Perhaps Red is calling me to tell me that Kera is dead, she thought.

  “Yeah,” Terry said.

  “Hey, girl,” Red replied.

  “What’s good?” Terry said, playing it cool.

  “Nothing. I was wondering, do you have any money?” Red inquired.

  “Money? Girl, please. Why you asking me for money? You know I ain’t got none.”

  “Looks like you got a problem, then.”

  “Girl, stop being silly. What are you talking about?”

  “Terry. Now I normally would get mad when a muthafucka shoots up my shit. But this time, I won’t.”

  The phone went silent. Terry already knew not to bullshit a bullshitter, and Red had her by the balls. Bitch!

  “What?” Terry finally asked, trying to sound confused.

  “Terry, I want a couple thousand over here today to pay for my shit you shot up and I need some hush money. That was so fucking dumb.”

  Terry began to cry. “Red, I’m so sorry. It’s just that Kera’s shit is fucking with me and we haven’t been able to hang out since she’s been living with you and well . . . I just lost it.”

  “Girl, I know. That’s why you need your girlfriend to tell you when you do stupid shit. That shit was so stupid. You could have killed somebody! What good will it do you to commit murder? All you did was make Mekel fall into Kera’s corner. He was hovering over her like a knight in shining armor.” Red was putting salt in da game.

  “Red, you shouldn’t blackmail me. All the secrets I keep for you. This is part of our program, being down for whatever, right.” Terry sounded desperate.

  “Bitch, please. Not when you come to my crib and shoot up my shit. You don’t bring shit where I lay my head at.” Terry knew damn well that anything Red told her was some shit she didn’t care about.

  “Sorry, I can’t sista-girl this one. You will pay for my windows. You will have the glass cleared from my house and you will sign the title of your truck over to me.”

  “What?” Red knew that Terry loved her truck, but Red felt like it was hers anyway since she had gotten Terry the hook-up in the first place. Red planned to sell it.

  “What if we make an exchange? I won’t tell Bacon about the letter you were going to send him and the other fucked-up shit you been doing since he got locked up, and—”

  “Bitch, that shit is weak as hell. I don’t give a fuck about that. Bacon already got the letter. Now what?”

  Terry had no reply. She was out of ammo when it came to doing Red dirty.

  “Have me two thousand and the title to your Escalade over to my crib in an hour, or I’ll tell Mekel that you were the shooter. Look, I know you ain’t thinking straight, but this is the first step back to Mekel. If he don’t know, you might stand a chance at getting your man back, but you definitely owe me for shooting up my fucking house!”

  “Red, I’ll tell you what. I will give you the two thousand but I’m keeping my truck.”

  “Terry, let me tell you something. Listen . . .” Red put a tiny tape recorder to the phone and pushed rewind. Soon Terry heard her voice play back over the line. Red had recorded the conversation.

  Fucking Dirty Red bitch! Terry cursed inwardly. She began to cry and said, “Oh, that shit is soooooooo fuckin’ dirty. You tape-recorded me and we supposed to be friends? You got to give me that tape!”

  “Sure. I will exchange it for the title and keys. See you at my place, in say what, an hour?”

  “Yeah, Red. I’ll see you.”

  The line went dead and Red put a smile on her face. Dumb bitch! You never talk shit on the phone and you certainly never confess.

  CHAPTER 16

  And Baby Makes Three

  A half an hour later, Terry turned the corner on what seemed like two wheels. She was busy trying to work out an alibi. She wasn’t worried about Red calling the police.
Red played by the rules of the street. She kept the dirt on the low and if justice was to be served, it was handled the old-fashioned way, with revenge.

  Terry’s problem was trying to figure out how to get the audiotape. Blackmailers seldom lived up to their words, but she had to trust someone; unfortunately for her, it was Red.

  Terry dialed Mekel on his cell phone.

  He was still with Kera. Mekel glanced his phone and cursed inwardly. Shit!

  He was through with Terry’s shit and there was no getting back in for her. He knew it would be hell trying to be a father and enduring her bouts of rage. Besides, if he had to choose between an unstable jealous chick and his seed, Mekel finally had the strength to choose his child, hands down. There was no choice. She was toast.

  When Terry heard the phone go into voice mail she was furious. The situation was getting worse by the second. And it hurt her heart to know that Mekel was most likely still with Kera, comforting her, while she was on the brink of losing her car, her dough and ultimately, him.

  Terry hit Redial; the phone went directly into voice mail, which only pissed her off even more. The muthafucka wants privacy, she thought.

  Terry began to wonder if it was even worth it to try and get Mekel back. It seemed to her that he was gone. She pulled into the apartment complex and stared at the entrance. Terry walked slowly, approached the door and turned the key to the apartment. Squeezing with her left hand, she hit Redial again. Terry began to feel desperate all over again. Shit was not working out the way that she had planned. Oh, if she could just turn back time. She would have handled things differently. Once inside the apartment, she began to think of her options.

  She’d be damned if she let Dirty Red get in her way. Fuck it. It wasn’t over.

  • • •

  On the other side of town, Red was looking at her watch, thinking of how she would sell Terry’s truck and to whom.

  The maintenance man was replacing the patio glass and his assistant was sweeping the shattered glass from the cobblestone floor.

  • • •

  Terry wondered whether she could have one more chance if she didn’t take her things from Mekel’s place. There was really no way of knowing. She could trust Red’s opinion that she still had another chance and pay the ransom for the tape; or she could say, “fuck it,” let them know that she was the shooter and that more was in store for them.

  Terry couldn’t help but remember that Red always seemed to know just what to say and what to do. She couldn’t let go of the fact that Red was her oldest childhood friend. That had to mean something and she convinced herself of that much.

  Terry took a seat in the tiny yet expensively furnished living room. She glanced at a photo of her and Mekel on top of the television. If Terry paid Red, and signed over the title to her car, she still could lose Mekel. Then she would be ass out, literally on left and right. If she ignored Red’s threats and she was exposed, then she believed Mekel would somehow get what his hand called for.

  Terry picked up the phone and called Red’s house. On what seemed like the twentieth ring, Sasha answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, girl.” Terry faked like it was a regular chat.

  “Hey,” Sasha said as she caught Terry’s voice.

  “How’s it, living in the palace?” Terry quizzed. She hoped that Sasha would give up some gossip.

  “Girl, drama. A muthafucka tried to kill us today.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, shot the fuckin’ house up and shit.”

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “Naw, but Red claims she does. And knowing her Ms. Cleo ass, she’s most likely telling the truth.”

  “Mmm. So who do you think did it?”

  “For a minute I thought it was you,” Sasha joked.

  “Me?” Terry played along. “Why me?”

  “’Cause your man was downstairs with his baby momma when it happened,” Sasha said, throwing salt. She still hadn’t heard Terry’s side of the story, but now was as good a time as any.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, him and Kera were downstairs when World War III was set off.”

  “Word? That’s fucked up. You okay?”

  “Girl, I’m fine, but Red is pissed. You know how immaculate she is. Her precious floors were dirty. Bitch been going the fuck off.”

  “Oh, so back to Mekel. Is he still there? He told me he was coming by to talk to Kera since the baby is on the way. They supposed to be doing some sort of paternity test.”

  “Let me peek.”

  After a few seconds, Terry was thrown off guard when Mekel said, “Hello?” into the phone.

  “Hey.”

  “What the fuck you calling me over here for?” Mekel yelled.

  “We need to talk. Look, how long you gon’ be over there?” Terry tried to ask nicely.

  “However fucking long I want to be,” Mekel snapped.

  “Look, this is crazy. I love you and you love me.” Terry was to the point of begging when Kera walked up to Mekel with his coat and his keys.

  “Maybe you need to come back when it’s really over,” Terry heard Kera say.

  “Look, Terry, I asked you to pack your shit and get the fuck out of my crib. It don’t sound like you did it yet.”

  Terry began to cry again. She felt like Mekel was frontin’ on her in front of Kera.

  “When I get home, you better be long gone. You hear me? Yeah, leave my key on the table. It’s over!”

  Terry felt humiliated. Mekel’s words cut into her like a knife. If he just had one good thing to say or even if he had one bad thing to say in a kind way, she would have had hope. His tone and the way he was talking to her said it all. It was over. Besides, once a nigga loses respect for you, it’s a wrap. Terry had been through the word wars before. Once a relationship was tarnished, the shit ain’t never the same. Mekel was killing it. He spit so much venom that even Kera knew it was dead. Staying would be for Terry’s affection and not his.

  Terry sighed into the phone and her pride took over her sorrow and her head swelled with anger.

  “Yeah, well, I’ll pack my shit, but, muthafucka . . .” Terry tried to throw it back at him. She figured her exit should reflect her gangstress actions.

  “Bitch, you run hot and cold. Your inconsistent ass is the main reason we couldn’t make it. Dating you was like watching the weather. You never knew what you were going to get. Kick rocks and get the fuck out my crib!” Mekel clicked the phone off.

  Terry held the phone in her hand in disbelief. Then she went through the apartment numbly collecting her things. She grabbed Mekel’s T-shirt that she wore the previous night and smelled it to catch the scent of his favorite cologne. Using the hem of her T-shirt, she wiped any incriminating prints from the handle of the gun and put it back in the box.

  As she headed for the door, the tears came again. She began to think, How would he feel if he came home and found me dead? Would he mourn me? Would he care?

  It was time for Terry to say “fuck it.” It was time for her to go home and be a mother to her own neglected kids. And that was just what she planned to do. Start over.

  • • •

  Over an hour passed and Red suspected that Terry had flaked out. It didn’t matter. She would still get her one way or another. She simply needed some time to figure out when and how.

  Q stormed into the house, followed by his best friend, Ezekial, strapped with a nine in the waistband of his sagging jeans. Q took the stairs two at a time and headed for Red’s room, where he embraced her. Next he said, “Show me where it happened.” As they made their way downstairs, Red’s eyes locked with Zeke’s. For a second she wondered how he had gotten in her home.

  When they got downstairs, you couldn’t tell that three hours ago, her house was shot up. The workers had cleaned the area quite successfully.

  “Red baby, this my partner Zeke,” Q introduced, holding her waist.

  “Hey,” Red quickly replied, trying to act lik
e she didn’t know him.

  She pointed her index finger and explained, “Here. The bullets came in here.”

  Zeke studied Red and wanted to snatch her by her ponytail and drag her face through the glass. But he held his tongue.

  “That’s it. You getting out of here. When is the deal gon’ be final for the loft?” Q asked.

  “I’m waiting on some paperwork,” Red nervously replied.

  “Well, start packing. You up out of this bitch. I’ll put you in a hotel until the paperwork gets straight.”

  Zeke walked to the glass and back to Red and asked, “So, you have no idea who did this to you?”

  “No, I don’t and . . .” she said, turning to Q. “No, it’s really not necessary.”

  “What? Someone shot your shit up and you want me to take it easy?”

  “I know who did it.”

  “Who?” Q asked.

  “Terry.”

  “Your girl Terry?”

  “Yeah. She was trying to kill Mekel.”

  Fuckin’ lyin’-ass bitch, Zeke thought. Zeke began to think of how to get his boy Q away from this triflin’ ho. It would have to be over his dead body that he allowed Red to win this go-around.

  “Ain’t that his ride outside?” Q asked.

  “Yeah, he upstairs with Kera, but I haven’t told him Terry was trying to kill him yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to upset Kera. You know, with her being eight months and all.” Red pretended that this was to be the truth. She would get Terry later for backing out on the agreement.

  Meanwhile, upstairs, Kera lay in Mekel’s arms and they both drifted into a late-morning nap. Just like that, Mekel had chosen Kera.

  • • •

  Red finally got the countersigned contract and the money from Triple Crown. Bacon was pissed about how she handled the business, but she told him, “They don’t do contracts with people behind bars, and I didn’t want to blow it for you. I did what you said and gave them an alias. What? You don’t trust me?”

  “Just send the money to the lawyer for me,” Bacon requested. It was out of his hands and all he wanted to do was get back on the streets. What Triple Crown gave him was chicken feed for a free man. But to a muthafucka on lock, it was a lifeboat and he was grateful for it.