Silence of the Nine

by T. Styles

  “What do you think?” Yori said, growing tired of Kerrick’s insubordination. “Of course I do business here.”

  He frowned. “Abraham doesn’t know about this deal, does he?”

  “You tell me everything you do?” Yori responded with disdain. “It’s like this, after I introduce you to Abraham, I know I’m out of business. So this dope is gonna be for my side gig. And I asked you here to cut you in.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” Yori asked, taking the money out of the duffle bag and placing it on the table.

  “Why must you be so disloyal?” The fire in his words was strong enough to singe Yori’s skin.

  “Disloyal?” he screamed. “Do you know how long I’ve walked in Abraham’s shadow?” His eyes protruded from the sockets, as he got excited. “How long I did his dirty work, only for him to give me a few scraps like I was a losing pit-bull in a fight?” His voice quivered and he lost all control.

  “Was it longer than what you did to me?” Kerrick’s response was flat but deserved attention.

  “Damien, you have—”

  “Kerrick. My name is Kerrick Khumalo and I’m from Zimbabwe.”

  Yori’s entire disposition changed. “So all this time you told me a lie? About who you were? What else don’t I know about you?”

  “You didn’t deserve the truth. Just like you don’t deserve a life.”

  Kerrick removed his weapon and fired once into Yori’s skull. His body fell backwards and slammed into the table, breaking it in two. The money fell on his chest and blood mixed with bone matter sat on the top of Kerrick’s Super Timberland boot. He kicked it off and it smacked to the floor.

  As he watched Yori’s corpse lay flat, he had no emotion.

  Kerrick walked over to Yori’s pocket and removed a bulky cell phone. He scrolled through the phonebook and looked for the most obscure number. When he found the letter “A,” he dialed it and a second later Abraham was on the phone.

  “This is Damien. I’m calling because I have a package for you that you’ll want to receive.”

  An hour later Abraham went to the address Kerrick had given him. Six men, four with assault weapons aimed in Kerrick’s direction, covered him.

  But Kerrick wasn’t alone either. Riley, Mox and Jameson stood behind him and all were prepared to give their lives.

  When Abraham saw Yori, his oldest soldier, sprawled out on the floor covered in his own blood, he looked to Kerrick for an answer.

  “You called me here for this?” Abraham barked.

  “I did,” he responded calmly.

  “If you wanted to commit suicide, there are easier ways, you know.”

  Kerrick eyed Abraham’s armed men. “I know you’re a smart man, Abraham,” Kerrick said, unafraid to die. “But we both know that this man was no good. He lacked both the ambition and the leadership needed to run your organization. But I don’t. I have every skill necessary but I could no longer work under him. I have no respect for him and neither do his soldiers.”

  Abraham crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the three men standing behind him. He gnawed the inside of his lip like he’d done in the past, which was why half of the inside of his mouth was gone. “You’re the one who sliced the boy up in Mama’s Kitchen, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “And you’re the reason for the profit rise.”

  Kerrick nodded.

  Abraham laughed softly. “I was waiting for you to make a move.” He paused. “I know men like you. Men like you will do all they can to follow the rules. It took years for you to approach me, despite this fucker’s horrible work ethic.” He nodded as if he had figured it all out. “Your loyalty wouldn’t allow you to step to me on your own even though you could’ve ended this a long time ago.”

  “You’re right on some things. I am loyal but it was never to Yori.”

  Confused, he asked, “Then who was it to?”

  “My cause. Loyalty to myself would not allow me to break even though I knew I was a better man than him.”

  Abraham shook his head upon understanding. Finally, he stepped closer to Kerrick. “You’re a patient man. And in a world full of hotheads, that’s refreshing. So I’m going to give you an opportunity. You’ll take over Yori’s spot. So tell me. What are your conditions?”

  Kerrick took a moment to consider what he wanted. Lately, whenever his name came up, the word ‘profit’ did too. Although he liked the name, he decided to change it up slightly.

  “I only have two conditions. One is that you call me by my native name…Kerrick.” He paused. “Kerrick Prophet.”

  Abraham grinned, loving his response. “With a name like that, I can tell we’re going to make a lot of money together.”

  “You’re right,” Kerrick responded. “And my second condition is that you don’t cross me too.”

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER 9

  PRESENT DAY

  Winter, Baltimore, MD

  Penn Station

  “Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly.”

  -William Shakespeare

  The Predator observed Butterfly through narrow eyes after she recounted the story she knew about her grandfather’s life. She wanted Butterfly to know that there was a reason for everything she did. Just like there was a reason the Predator tracked her down with the intent to kill her.

  “If he was so horrible, why are you so much like him?” Butterfly asked.

  The Predator looked at her with a blank and emotionless face. “You think I’m like him?” She pointed to herself. “Even more than you?”

  “I’m sorry. I made a mistake and I ran when I found out I was pregnant. So much time passed that I thought you had forgotten about me. Until I saw you in the hospital that day holding my baby. I ran because I was trying to survive. Don’t you get that?”

  The Predator laughed heartily. “You talk about survival but you know nothing about it. You don’t know what it’s like to desire to eat and not be fed. You don’t know what it’s like to live in complete darkness while begging for a spark of light. And you don’t know what it’s like to fear.” She sat back and looked at the baby in Butterfly’s arms. “Until now.”

  “Please…I’m begging you. Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt my child.”

  “You are asking for what is not yours. Whatever happens to you tonight, on this train or off it, is my decision alone.”

  Butterfly’s muscles tensed and her breath felt caught inside of her chest. “Yes, what I did was wrong. And I’m not proud of it. But you can’t sit over there and pretend that your entire life was messed up. Look at you now. You’re a Prophet dipped in diamonds and fur. Some people would have died to live in that house.”

  “It’s funny you said that, Butterfly. Because some people did.”

  CHAPTER 10

  1997

  SIXTEEN YEARS LATER

  “Make us heirs of all eternity.”

  -William Shakespeare

  The birthing room was warm as Kerrick stood over the bed and watched his twenty-one-year-old daughter Kelly prepare to bring her third baby into the world. This child, as well as her other two, were by her brother, twenty-year-old Avery.

  A lot of things had changed in sixteen years. For starters, the Prophet family, under Kerrick’s rule, had grown to be the most notorious family in DC, Maryland and Virginia. And Victoria had given birth to six children, three of whom were girls. Although Kerrick was far from the block boy he started as, he was able to secure a connect in Miami which allowed him access to pure cocaine at a better than fair wholesale rate.

  He controlled everything and everybody around him. Since secrets surrounded their family, due to most of his grandchildren being products of inbreeding, he didn’t trust many people.

  Although Kerrick had many grandchildren, including the two girls named Lydia and Paige that Kelly gave birth to, not one was fairer than his favorite grandchild, Alice Prophet. She was born to his third child Marina. The goal for Kelly was to
always have a baby more precious than Alice.

  Kerrick was confused. Although he claimed to be proud of being from Africa, over the years, he had grown to hate his dark skin and how he was viewed. So he continued to bleach his skin and tried to erase any trace of his heritage. He sold out his own race and forced his children to do the same.

  “Push, Kelly,” Victoria pleaded as she gripped her daughter’s left hand while Avery held the other. “Don’t stop pushing.”

  Her light skin reddened as she bore down into the bed to release the child from her body. Puddles of sweat strolled down her forehead as she gave birth with no pain meds, just like all of Kerrick’s daughters. Although Dr. Banning could’ve given all of Kerrick’s girls medicine to reduce the pain when they went into labor, Kerrick said no. Some said it was because he loved the sound of his daughters screaming in pain, because it brought him pleasure.

  “The baby’s head is crowning,” Dr. Annette Banning advised. “When you feel the next contraction, push again.”

  Kelly was in habitual dolor with no relief in sight. Still she gripped her brother’s hand and squeezed her third baby, whom she would call Karen, into the world.

  As the doctor wrapped the baby in a white blanket, Kelly could not see her face. So she looked at her father for validation. Was this child perfect? She needed it to be. All of her natural life, she did all she could to please him but she always fell short.

  Unlike her sisters, all of Kelly’s offspring were great disappointments. And every child she bore that he didn’t like, she acted as if they didn’t exist because it wasn’t worth it to have children that her father didn’t love.

  The doctor’s eyes widened as she held the small child in her hands. Something about her expression told Kelly that something was wrong. But since she couldn’t see the child she would have to impatiently wait.

  After Dr. Banning cleared the baby’s passageway, it cried loudly. Afterwards, she walked Kerrick’s eighth grandchild over to him. At first he smiled, hoping that his oldest child would finally get it right. But when the smile vanished and was replaced with disgust, tears ran down her face. She fucked up yet again.

  Not only was the child nothing like he imagined, due to inbreeding, the baby was severely deformed.

  “Father,” Kelly asked, repositioning herself in the bed. “Is the baby perfect?” she asked hoping that she was reading his expressions incorrectly.

  Kerrick frowned and in a rough voice said, “No.” He shoved the child into the doctor’s arms. “Take it to my daughter.” Kerrick’s face, which had been bleached harshly over the years, reddened with irritation. He folded his arms over his chest and waited for Kelly to see how she failed.

  “What’s wrong, father?” Avery asked, afraid for the emotional pain his sister would endure if Kerrick turned his back on her again.

  “Don’t talk to me,” Kerrick pointed at him. “This is your fault too.”

  Avery, worried he’d be thrown out of the mansion when he couldn’t take care of himself, let alone his sister-wife, remained silent.

  When the baby was placed in Kelly’s arms, her hands shook wildly. Slowly she removed the blanket covering the infant’s face. And what she saw would haunt her for the rest of her life. The baby was a horrible sight.

  Kelly rolled her eyes from the baby, slowly to her father. He was right. She was a worthless daughter who couldn’t do anything right. All she wanted was a child Kerrick could frolic around Baltimore so that men, young and old, would do anything to marry her. The Prophet daughters not only got the proposals, if he allowed them to marry outside the family, they married rich.

  Kelly scanned her baby again. It was a girl. Her face was as red as an apple. Her head was luniform shaped and her eyes were not leveled. Huge tears fell out of Kelly’s eyes and lines of snot oozed out of her nose. “I’m so sorry, father. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Without responding, he looked at the doctor. “Dr. Banning, you can leave now.”

  When the doctor collected her things and exited, he focused on his loser daughter. Instead of speaking, he used silence as a weapon. Slowly he walked over to Kelly and placed a thick wad of her hair behind her ear.

  When he reviewed his grandbaby again it was without emotion. He raised his massive, calloused hand and placed it over the child’s face. The infant kicked lightly, about as powerfully as a butterfly under a piece of paper. And then suddenly there was no motion. Kerrick had murdered his uglified grandchild all because she didn’t meet his standard. When his slaying was complete, he walked out of the room.

  “I’m sorry, Kelly,” Victoria cried, unable to control the monster who was her husband. “I’m so sorry about this.” She ran out of the room to tend to Kerrick.

  A month passed since Kelly had given birth to her child. She was inconsolable although Avery did all he could to appease her.

  Kelly and Avery were the only children living in the mansion with Kerrick and Victoria, and with him being angry always, they avoided him at all costs. Kerrick was already troubled due to his declining drug operation, from not being able to work out arrangements to secure the Baltimore market. The last thing he needed was to see Kelly’s pitiful face.

  She lay in bed with a box of tissues in her lap. Avery was next to her, rubbing her leg to calm her down. Life as a Prophet was harder than living at a Nazi camp, to hear them tell it. Kerrick was a dictator and those who were further away from his idea of perfect got it worse.

  Living in the Prophet mansion meant keeping a lot of secrets. Because of it, they didn’t mingle with outsiders unless they earned over two million dollars a year, and had approval by Kerrick. Every one of Kerrick and Victoria’s six children were home schooled until they were old enough to attend college so that Kerrick could control who came in and out of their lives.

  To date, he kept tabs on all of his children, including his estranged son Justin, who was ashamed of the incest that went on in the family and abandoned them. Justin even went as far as to change his last name to Lincoln and he took an outside wife named Corrine. They had one son. Autumn Lincoln.

  Kerrick’s reason for keeping the family from outsiders was understandable. He was raising a house of horrors. With his approval, to keep his bloodline pure, incest was highly encouraged. So Kelly and Avery had children together. Victory and Blake, also siblings, had four children together. His favorite daughter Marina was allowed to take an outside husband, Joshua Saint, and she had one child.

  All of Kerrick’s children, with his help and money, were able to make it out in the world. Everyone with the exception of Kelly and Avery. Even with an open wallet, they could not live alone. Due to Kelly’s declining mental state, the cops were repeatedly called to the house they previously owned, and when she was hospitalized she would often mention a few family secrets. So Kerrick decided to take care of them, and he despised them for it too.

  “I hate to see you like this,” Avery said to his sister-wife as he consoled her after not being able to have the perfect child.

  “And I’m sorry you have to go through this with me,” she said as she faced him with red, swollen eyes. “I know it’s hard and your patience is amazing.” She placed her hand on the side of his face. “It’s just that I don’t know what he needs. All I want is for him to love me.”

  Avery sighed. “I don’t know, baby. Maybe we try too hard to please him. Have you ever considered letting it go?”

  She spun her head toward him and covered her mouth. “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “Don’t ever talk like that again.” Her voice grew louder. “I love father and I know if I could just get this one thing right, he’ll love me in return.” Her head lowered. “I don’t mean to yell but he’s all I got.”

  This panged Avery’s heart because through it all, he had never left her side. From the day Kerrick caught them kissing in the den as kids until that moment, he had dedicated his life to her. Yet nobody meant more to her than Kerrick and Avery resented his father because of it.

 
Before he could respond, their children Lydia and Paige walked into the room. They were six-year-old Irish twins who lived in the mansion with them. The moment Kelly saw the fuck ups she gave birth to, she grew disgusted. They were dirty and fat, and she accepted zero responsibility for the children’s filthy upkeep. In her mind it was all their faults.

  Because she didn’t love them, they were allowed to eat what they wanted and do what they wanted just as long as they stayed away from her. To that day, neither Kelly nor Avery had ever hugged their children.

  Lydia’s huge stomach protruded under the red t-shirt she wore and her large black sweatpants were stained with mustard. Although her face was cute, she was born fat and grew more obese as the years went by. The saddest part was that Lydia was severely attention starved.

  Because she didn’t receive affection from her parents, she used food to compensate for her feelings. There had been so many times when she asked for hugs from her mother, only for Kelly to be preoccupied with her own emotions and feelings. Avery would at least smile at them if he had a moment, before warning his daughters to stay out of his way.

  Paige was much shorter than her sister but slightly more attractive. The white night gown she always wore drowned out her body and was stained with mustard also, from the raw hot dogs they ate earlier.

  Unlike her sister, Paige handled her need for attention in other ways. She ignored her parents and pretended they didn’t exist. When the pain of not being loved hit her, she took to cutting her hair, leaving bald spots scattered throughout her scalp in the process.

  Paige had another problem that made Kerrick angry. Although inbreeding was accepted, he frowned upon homosexuality. Paige had been caught several times touching her sister and cousins the wrong way, and most ran when they saw her coming.

  Poor Paige and Lydia. In a family full of awkward people, they were the weirdest. And that made life hard.