by Jade Jones
“Quit fuckin’ around, man,” Jude laughed. He headed to the counter carrying a six pack of Coronas and his son in his free arm. He steadily complained that Cameron had Justin spoiled because of how much she carried him, but in all actuality, he was no better.
After purchasing their items, all three men headed back to the car—
POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!
21
Instincts kicking into overdrive, Jude turned around to shield his son from the gunfire. In the process, one bullet struck his back while one impaled his calf muscle.
Jag quickly took shield behind a nearby vehicle while Joaquin ducked behind a newspaper vending machine. Simultaneously, both brothers snatched out their guns, firing shots off at the black Hummer H2 SUT.
Bullets ricocheted off the metal frame. The back left window exploded after a gunshot collided with it. Havoc and Chaos were on a paid mission, and they refused to let up until their job was complete. They didn’t give a damn that it was broad daylight, or that a small toddler was within range.
Hanging out the passenger window, Havoc continued to fire off rounds from his HK submachine gun. Bullets shattered the convenience store’s glass windows, and lit up the parked cars along the street.
Pedestrians dropped to the ground, and ducked for cover to avoid being caught in gunfire. The horrific scene almost seemed nightmarish. One minute Jude felt like he was on top of the world, and the next he was taking two bullets to the back.
After letting off a few more rounds at the truck, Jag ran over towards Jude, making sure to stay as low to the ground as possible. “Shit, Jude!” he yelled. The sight of all the blood was unbearable. He tried his best not to freeze and go to pieces. Right now his boss needed him more than ever.
“Where’s my son?!” Jude screamed with a mouthful of blood.
Jag hastily looked around at his destroyed surroundings. Fortunately, he found the two-year old lying several feet away, screaming at the top of his little lungs. His face was beet red and wet with tears. His clothing, stained with his father’s dark red blood.
Joaquin expertly fired at the truck, taking out the back window and tire. Fearful that they might’ve lost the upper hand, Chaos quickly skirted off. Regrettably, he made the mistake of panicking.
The Hummer H2 swerved out of control as the hired hitmen attempted to flee. Joaquin, on the other hand, was determined to not let them get away. Unaware that he’d blacked out, the 20-year old sprinted after the truck and continued to let off shots.
Jag dashed towards Justin and grabbed in his arms. Making sure to stay low, he rushed to their parked car and placed the crying child on the backseat’s floor. After securing Justin’s safety, Jag hurried back to Jude’s aid.
“He’s safe!” Jag assured him.
Blood soaked Jude’s $800 Givenchy t-shirt, and created a small puddle around him. He was bleeding out incredibly fast. At that moment, his life flashed before his very eyes. All he could think about was his and Cameron’s last conversation before he left the house.
“But what if something happens to you, Jude? You want me to end up like Evelyn? A widow with a fatherless child?” He listened to her voice replay over and over in his mind.
Fuck me, he said to himself. This ain’t how I thought it would end.
“Don’t worry, bro’. I’ma get you some help, man! You gon’ be good!” Jag promised. He said one thing, but the fearful look in his eyes said another. Jude had quickly become like a brother to him, and he hated the thought of losing him.
Jude attempted to move a little. His entire body was immobile, and he didn’t know if it was because he was dying or paralyzed from the gunshot wounds. When Jude looked up at Jag there was desperation in his tear-filled eyes. He just knew his life was ending at that second.
“If I don’t make it,” Jude struggled to say. “Take care of Cam…” He searched Jag’s blue eyes for understanding. He needed him to know exactly what he meant by it.
“Fuck that shit. You gon’ make it, man,” Jag assured him. He wanted to believe what he was saying was true, but he had his doubts. Taking matters into his own hands, Jag dragged Jude to the BMW and carefully placed him in the backseat with his son.
Meanwhile, Joaquin emptied the last of his clip into the Hummer H2. A stray bullet flew through the shattered back window and hit Chaos directly in the back of the shoulder. Injured and unable to control the swerving vehicle, both he and Havoc crashed into a nearby telephone pole.
Joaquin looked like a man possessed as he ran towards the truck. He could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, but his mind was in a whole other place. Once Joaquin reached the truck riddled with bullet holes, he roughly snatched Chaos out through the broken window.
Filled with rage, Joaquin proceeded to beat the shit out of the 5”4 wounded man. Blow after blow his fists landed into a semi-conscious Chaos. Blood splattered Joaquin’s hands after knocking out a few of his teeth. There was no limit to the damage he could cause during a deadly blackout.
Havoc quickly hopped out the passenger side, and aimed his HK at Joaquin. With his back turned to the armed gunman, Joaquin didn’t even notice that his life was in jeopardy.
CLICK!
CLICK!
CLICK!
Joaquin’s head jerked in Havoc’s direction. A tiny glint of fear flashed in the young killer’s eyes. Aware that he’d finally met his match, Havoc tossed the empty gun to the ground, and took off running in the opposite direction. In the back of his mind, he chastised himself for thinking he and Chaos could do the job alone.
Joaquin chased after Havoc like an Olympic track and field medalist. When he finally reached Havoc, he tackled him to the cold pavement. Together they tussled in the middle of the street. However, the battle came to an abrupt ending after Joaquin snatched out his stiletto knife and stabbed Havoc in the throat.
“Joaquin! NOOO!” Jag ran up behind his brother, and pulled him off Havoc’s lifeless body. There were civilians in sight who could testify after seeing him kill Havoc. Jag didn’t want his brother to have to deal with those problems. Leaving Jude’s side, he tried to reach Joaquin before it was too late but failed miserably.
Still in blackout mode and unaware of his actions, Joaquin swung around and sliced Jag’s face with the knife. In his mind, he was under the impression that he was being attacked.
Jag stumbled backwards and clamped a hand over his cheek. The blade cut cleanly through his flesh like a stick of butter.
Immediately, Joaquin snapped back to reality. The curse that plagued his life had finally caused him to hurt his own blood.
22
Roxie dialed O’ Zone’s number for the fourth time that afternoon. She wanted someone to talk to about the whole Rumor situation, and she thought O’ Zone would’ve been the ear she desperately needed.
Why isn’t he picking up his phone, Roxie asked herself. Probably fucking around as usual, she concluded. In a last ditch attempt, she called him one final time—and was surprised when he actually answered.
“What, Roxie?! Got damn!” O’ Zone barked into the phone. It was obvious that she was interrupting whatever he had going on.
“I just wanted to talk to you about my sister,” Roxie answered in a small voice. She wasn’t expecting her man to fly off the handle, especially during a moment when she really needed him.
“Look, man. I ain’t stuttin’ yo’ mufuckin’ sister right now! I got bigger shit goin’ on!” O’ Zone snapped before disconnecting the call.
Roxie stared at her cellphone’s home screen for several minutes before bursting out in hysterical cries. She’d never felt so alone in her entire life, and she hated that she was going through it on her own.
Roxie appreciated Cameron coming down to the police station with her, but she still felt that Cameron knew something she didn’t. It wasn’t like Rumor to just up and disappear. And since Cameron was her “self-proclaimed best-friend,” Roxie was sure that she knew more than she was letting on.
KNOCK!
KNOCK!
KNOCK!
Roxie placed her wineglass on the kitchen island, and padded barefoot to the front door. She wasn’t expecting company so she was unsure as to whom her visitor was. After wiping away her tears and regaining her composure, Roxie swung the door open. Her mouth instantly fell open at the sight of Joaquin standing there in bloodstained clothing.
“Wh—what happened to you?” Roxie stuttered.
Joaquin swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. “Can I come in?” he asked in a hoarse tone. “I ain’t had the best day today…and I feel like I ain’t got nobody else to talk to…”
Coincidentally, Roxie was experiencing those same sentiments; so without hesitation she allowed Joaquin inside her home.
***
Jag raised his fist coated in Jude’s dried blood, and pounded on Cameron’s front door. He waited patiently outside until he heard her approaching footsteps on the opposite end.
The first thing Cameron noticed after opening the door was the bandage on Jag’s right cheek. A two-inch gash required ten stitches. A permanent scar would now be the painful reminder of what had transpired that day.
The second thing Cameron noticed was that Jag had Justin instead of Jude. Her breathing instantly caught in her chest because she knew right then that something was wrong. Anxiously stepping to the side, she watched as Jag entered her home. After placing Justin down, he turned to Cameron. Her eyes were glued to her child’s clothing.
Cameron’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “Is that blood on my son’s shirt?” Tears filled her almond-shaped eyes as she asked the dreaded question.
“Cameron—”
“Whose blood is on my son? What happened to your face? Where’s Jude?!” Cameron fired off questions like the host to a trivia show.
There was a look of disappointment on Jag’s face when he said, “Cameron…Jude was shot…”
All of a sudden, Cameron’s legs gave out beneath her weight. Bumping into the nearby accent table, the ceramic vase fell over before shattering against the hardwood floors. Justin immediately broke out in high-pitched screams after the crash. Jag quickly grabbed Cameron before she plummeted to the floor…
***
O’ Zone slammed his shot glass against the kitchen counter with so much force that it cracked upon impact. Shit was only getting crazier by the second. He’d sent two niggas to handle a problem only to get word that one had been murdered and the other was barely alive in ICU.
“Nigga, I need you to slow up,” Zeus told him. “We gon’ deal with this issue. But remember you gotta appearance to make tonight. Now that’s money in both of our pockets.”
Both men stood inside Zeus’ massive kitchen. O’ Zone may as well have been a resident because of how much time he spent there. The impressive studio made him feel like Zeus’ crib was his home away from home. Not only that, but Zeus was his boy—and the man who gave him a chance when no other record label would.
One of Zeus’ many females stood over the stove half-naked, cooking stir-fry. Another snorted a line of coke off the kitchen island countertop. Every day was a freak show in Zeus’ home, but it all came with the fame.
“Twenty grand!” O’ Zone barked. “Twenty mothafuckin’ grand I dropped on these fuck niggas—” His sentence was cut short when his cellphone began ringing. Automatically assuming it was Roxie calling again, O’ Zone launched his phone at the heated tiled floor.
One of the women yelped in fear after the loud crash. Nevertheless, she was all too familiar with O’ Zone’s bad temper.
“Man, this shit is not happenin’, dawg!” O’ Zone massaged his temples, trying his best to simmer down. However, the situation had him fuming mad.
“I’ma need you to tone it down, bruh,” Zeus instructed in a calm manner. “You might have taken a loss but think about the ten G’s you gettin’ just for a walk through tonight; easy paper, man. Fuck this shit for now. It’ll be dealt with later…even if I gotta handle the shit personally.”
O’ Zone swaggered over to the kitchen island, and sniffed up a small amount of coke. He was being paid handsomely just to show his face at a popular club downtown that night. Nevertheless, that shit was the last thing on his mind. He still didn’t know if Jude was alive or dead. It would’ve been a shame for him to waste twenty stacks for nothing.
***
With wobbly legs, Cameron slowly made her way inside the room Jude was being kept in. For the sake of not getting the law involved, Jude was rushed to a private location. Barely conscious when he arrived, Jude was fixed up by a retired surgeon paid under the table for his services.
The room Jude was in looked very similar to a standard hospital room. Sterile and peaceful, it was obvious that he was in good hands after his near-death experience. Cameron tried her best to be as quiet as she could even though she wanted to break down. The heavy meds being pumped into Jude’s body from an IV had him out cold.
In silence, Cameron watched as his bare chest heaved up and down slowly. Suddenly, that moment felt like déjà vu. It hadn’t been that long since Jude had taken a bullet for her in order to protect her from Silk. Yet somehow, faith was once again on his side.
“I’ma give you your space,” Jag told her. “But I’ll be outside if you need me.”
Cameron nodded her head in Jag’s direction before he slowly closed the door behind himself. She then walked over to Jude’s hospital bed. Staring down at his bruised face, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Jude stirred a little but remained asleep.
“Love you,” Cameron said, gazing earnestly at her husband.
“Love you too,” Jude whispered. His eyes remained close. Although his body was weak, his heart felt strong in his wife’s presence.
Tears pooled in Cameron’s eyes as she smiled. Pressing her lips against his, she wanted him to feel how much he truly meant to her. “You almost gave me a damn heart attack today, Jude…,” she said in a low tone. “When I thought I lost you I…” Cam’s voice trailed off. “I wanna scold you so bad about this business, Jude. But I know you won’t listen to me. You’re a Taurus…you’re stubborn and stuck in your ways.”
Jude slowly opened his eyes, and looked up into Cameron’s beautiful face. “You might not believe this, Cam,” he began. “But I don’t think this hit had nothin’ to do with the business. This shit was personal.”
Cameron’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why do you say that? Who did this to you?” she asked.
Jude looked away from Cameron. He hated to involve her in his drama, but as his wife he felt she deserved to know. Taking a deep breath, Jude began to fill her in on everything from his encounter with Champion at The Compound to running into O’ Zone in the men’s restroom in Blue Flame.
“How do you know Champion didn’t call the hit?” Cameron asked once he’d finished. She wanted to believe so badly that O’ Zone wasn’t capable of doing such a thing. That definitely wasn’t the man she remembered.
“He gave me two weeks to come to a decision, Cam. Why the hell would he blast me for no reason?” Jude asked. “I honestly believe ya boy O’ Zone had somethin’ to do with this shit.”
Cameron gently brushed her fingers along Jude’s jawline. “Get some rest, babe,” she finally said after a brief pause. “You need to get better so that you can finish what you started.”
Jude was surprised to hear those words come from Cameron; especially since she’d been so against his new position. “I love you more than I love my own life,” he told her.
Cameron gave him one final kiss before she departed. As promised, she found Jag waiting outside with a grim expression on his face. He looked like something was on his mind, but Cameron decided against asking him about it. He still hadn’t told her what happened to his cheek.
Looking Jag dead in the eyes, Cam said, “I really need you and your brother to take care of something for me.”
Jag’s jaw muscle tensed. “Whatever you need me to do I’ll do, Ca
m,” he said with a serious expression.
23
“I never had a white boy before,” Roxie whispered. She glided her fingertips through Joaquin’s soft hair, and stared deeply into his amber eyes.
Joaquin lay positioned between Roxie’s thick thighs. He was still buried inside of her even though he had cum five minutes ago. Chuckling in amusement, he leaned in and kissed Roxie’s plump lips. “I’m Sicilian,” he corrected her.
The two of them were in her white button-tufted canopy bed with the sheets rustled around their naked bodies. The sun was just beginning to set. After a few glasses of wine and an hour of venting, one thing eventually led to another.
“Can I ask you a question?” Roxie began.
“Sure…Anything, babe.”
Roxie hesitated a little. “If you got mad at me and blacked out…would you hurt me?”
Joaquin’s gaze shifted from her brown eyes down to the small beauty mark on her left breast. Images of Jag bleeding from his face came to mind. He started to hate himself all over again. After the fact, Jag had assured him that he wasn’t angry, but the situation had really gotten to Joaquin. Not being able to control his rage made him fearful of hurting another loved one…which was why he hadn’t returned home to Anzia and Alessia. They would flip after they saw what he’d done to his brother.
Joaquin opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when his cellphone started ringing. Reaching over, he grabbed his S4 off the nightstand. Since he’d practically told Roxie everything he didn’t mind answering his phone in front of her.
“Yo.”
“Aye, bro’. We got some business we need to handle,” Jag told him. “Meet me at The Warehouse.”
Joaquin knew it would only be a matter of time before they went after the motherfuckers who shot Jude. He didn’t expect to retaliate so quickly after the altercation, but he wasn’t complaining. He needed the opportunity to release some of his pent up anger.
