Mouse’s strokes got slower and slower until he eventually collapsed on Toya’s back, totally blacking out.
Mouse’s head was banging from an excruciating headache as he came to. His vision was blurry and the sun crept through the hotel’s blinds. Damn, I been out since last night? Mouse thought as he attempted to wipe the sleep out of his eye. He never got a chance to raise his hand to his face because he was roped and bound to a chair in the center of the hotel room. What the fuck? Mouse thought as his vision became clear. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his mouth because of the duct tape wrapped tightly around his lips. He looked down and saw that he was tied up, not having any room to maneuver. It wasn’t until moments later that Mouse noticed the figure standing in front of him with a bandaged head and a cane; it was Seven. Seven was standing, waiting patiently for Mouse to regain his consciousness.
“Rise and shine,” Seven said coldly as he sat down in his wheelchair that was directly behind him. Seven grimaced as the pain shot through the right side of his body. It had been an entire month since he had been shot and he anticipated the day that he would see Mouse again. That day had come. Mouse was completely baffled and couldn’t believe who he was looking at. He was sure that he had murdered Seven at his apartment.
“Oh, that bitch woke up, huh?” Rah said as he emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands dry. Seven nodded his head as he never took his eyes off of Mouse. Mouse began to sweat and his heart rate sped up. He knew what time it was and karma was knocking at his front door. Seven looked at Rah and threw his head in the direction of Mouse, and Rah immediately walked over and gave him a hard punch to the eye. Mouse squirmed and cringed as the pain overwhelmed him. Rah laid another one on him, but that time he hit him in the other eye. That punch split Mouse’s upper cheekbone wide open, causing blood to trickle down his face. The sounds of Mouse’s whimpers and heavy breathing filled the room. Rah took off his shirt, displaying his chiseled physique and tattooed body. He was about to go to work on Mouse and didn’t want to mess up his silk Cavalli shirt that he just purchased. He neatly laid it on the bed and focused back on Mouse. Rah gave him repeated blows to the head, swelling him up beyond recognition. The vicious beating continued for fifteen minutes, before Seven finally spoke up.
“That’s enough, fam,” he said. Rah was breathing heavily and sweating as if he just ran the New York City Marathon. Rah gave Mouse another punch to the mid-section for good measure before he walked away. Seven rolled the wheelchair up to Mouse and quickly ripped off the duct tape from his mouth, causing vomit to gush out and onto Mouse’s chest.
“Ma . . . man, don’t kill me. It was all business. You know how the game go,” Mouse said, trying to get out of the sticky situation. “It didn’t even supposed to go down like that!” Mouse said, half crying.
“Is that right?’ Seven asked calmly as he pulled out a weed-filled cigar and lit it. Seven usually didn’t smoke, but he had developed the habit over the past couple of weeks, being that it helped him deal with the pain on the left side of his body. After Seven took a deep pull off of his cigar, he blew the thick smoke directly in Mouse’s face. Seven then pulled a gun that was tucked in his waist and set it on his lap.
“Please, Seven. Please don’t shoot me,” Mouse pleaded as he stared at the chrome on Seven’s lap.
“Don’t shoot you?” Seven questioned as he grinned, not believing the audacity of Mouse. “I’m not going to shoot you, my nigga. You are not even worth the bullet. But I can tell you what I am going to do,” Seven said nonchalantly, as if he were engrossed in casual conversation between gentlemen. Seven paused. He was absolutely enjoying the pained look on Mouse’s face. Mouse instantly grew more terrified and couldn’t control himself. A stream of piss ran down his leg as fear set in. He saw Rah step up with a syringe in his hand. Rah squirted the little bit of water that was at the tip of the syringe and held it up in the air showing the brown, watery substance that it contained.
“I know you’re wondering what’s in that syringe, huh? Let me help you out. You probably were thinking it’s Lady Luck, right? Nah, fuck that. This is a special blend made especially for you, Mouse. That’s battery acid mixed with rat poison,” Seven said as he grinned again and took another pull of the cigar.
“Ooo wee. This shit is about to hurt like a mufucka,” Rah said jokingly as he waited for the green light from Seven.
“Hell yeah. I’m glad I’m not this nigga,” Seven said as he blew the smoke out slowly.
“Please, please don’t kill me. I got a daughter, man,” Mouse pleaded as he tried to wiggle himself out of the rope but it was no use.
“I know. Li’l Tasha, right? Live right off of Harriet Street with your baby mama. Pretty little girl. I’ll be going to see her a little bit later this afternoon. I’ll be sending her to the exact place you’re going. Don’t worry,” Seven said, meaning every word. He had no sympathy whatsoever and Mouse had started a domino effect that had made Seven cold as ice. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. The doctor that performed Seven’s surgery, removing the bullet, said that the bullet struck a nerve that alters the brain’s emotional side and a person’s compassion. Boy, was he right. Now Seven was coldblooded. Rah wrapped a belt tightly around Mouse’s arm and smacked his forearm, waiting on a good vein to form. When it did, he jammed the syringe in and emptied all of the content into Mouse’s bloodstream, giving him one of the most painful deaths a man could experience. Mouse screamed at the top of his lungs and the acid ate away at his skin and caused him to go into a painful convulsion while throwing up blood. He shook vigorously, just as Hazel had done. Mouse suffered tremendously as his completion turned from light brown to a plum red as his arms had swollen to three times their original size. Seven and Rah passed the cigar back and forth causally, while watching Mouse suffer to death.
Seven left the hotel room, alongside Rah, with a different attitude and a new perspective on life. One would think that Seven would leave the drug game alone, but he was about to go harder than ever before. He would never let anyone get close enough to hurt him. He was about to become like a ghost to the streets and never be accessible again. He had come up with this master plan while sitting back mourning the death of Hazel and rehabilitating his injury. He was about to become untouchable.
He had no one except Rah and tainted memories of what love eventually did to a person: caused pain. He had truly understood the meaning of the saying “Love is pain and pain is love” firsthand.
Li’l Rico stood on his usual post as he waited for his first dope sale of the day. He wore an all-black oversized hoodie with both of his hands tucked inside of his pockets as he scoped down the block. He gripped his .25 in his hand as he concealed it and waited patiently. Just as he thought he saw a dopefiend straggling down the block, he took a deeper look, and he noticed that it was Millie. He hadn’t seen her since he gave her the laced pack of dope. He had heard about what happened to Hazel and felt bad for what he helped do, but he couldn’t worry about it too much because that how the game went sometimes. He watched as Millie walked toward him, scratching her arms and jonesing badly. Her lips were chapped and her hair was wild and all over her head.
“What this bitch want?” he asked himself as he saw her coming directly toward him.
“Li’l Rico! Li’l Rico! Hook me up, baby,” Millie begged as she had a sad look in her eye. Rico smacked his lips and couldn’t believe that Millie still wanted dope from him after he had given her a laced pack. “Dopeheads will do anything to get high,” he said under his breath as she approached him.
“Li’l Rico, I’m hurting real bad. I really need a pack to shake the kinks off,” Millie begged as she scratched her arms vigorously.
“Look, I didn’t know that pack was bad,” Li’l Rico said, disregarding her request for dope, wanting to get the guilt off of his chest in some way. If Millie forgave him, at least he would feel better about what had happened.
“Don’t worry about it. I know Seven’s people gave it to you
. Everyone knows that. It wasn’t your fault,” Millie said as she shifted from side to side and gripped her stomach and grunted because of the pain.
“For real?” Li’l Rico asked, feeling better already.
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Millie answered as she looked around, fidgeting.
“Yo’, here you go. This one’s on the house,” Li’l Rico said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack for Millie.
“Are you serious?” Millie asked as she grew a surprised look on her face. She lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Yeah, it’s the least I can do,” Li’l Rico answered. Millie took the pack and then smiled at him.
“I know ain’t shit in this world free. So, let me suck your dick for you, okay? I’ll do it real good, too. Deal?” Millie said, not wanting Rico to feel like she owed him something. Rico wanted to say no, knowing that Millie had robbed him before, but his soldier in his pants began to tingle. Millie pulled out her one of her breasts and flashed it at him, knowing it would drive his young hormones crazy. “Come on. Let me earn this pack,” Millie said as she rubbed her dark brown nipple. Rico scanned the block to see if anyone was looking and decided to grant Millie’s wish.
“Let’s go over there,” Rico said, pointing to the alley.
“Bet,” Millie answered as she hurried over and immediately dropped to her knees. Rico followed her over and immediately whipped out his rod to let Millie please him. Rico threw his head back, anticipating the great sensation that Millie’s lips had to offer.
After a couple of seconds of not feeling anything wet wrapped around his pole, Rico opened his eyes and looked down. What he saw almost made him piss on himself. Millie had a four-inch blade in one hand and his erect rod in her other, looking up at him.
“Whoa! Hold up!” Rico said as he froze in fear as Millie facial expression had totally changed. At first she looked like a woman in pain from withdrawal, but that look had been a front. She now had a fire in her eyes that screamed revenge. Millie hadn’t touched a drug in weeks, since Hazel’s funeral. She had gone cold turkey and forced herself to be drug free. It was very difficult, but she did it. She had finally emerged from the darkness to seek revenge in Hazel’s name.
“Don’t move or I will chop this mufucka off. Try me if you wanna,” Millie whispered harshly as she stood to her feet, still having his penis gripped tightly. She had pressed the blade to the side of it, making a tiny trickle of blood run onto her fingers. Li’l Rico was sweating bullets as he breathed lightly and blinked his eyes feverishly. Li’l Rico thought about reaching for his gun, but he didn’t want to take the chance of having his manhood chopped off. Millie saw the expression of Li’l Rico’s face as if he was contemplating something, so she looked down and saw the bulge of the gun through his hoodie. He swiftly reached in his pocket, pulling out the gun, leaving the knife in his pocket. She did it so fast that Li’l Rico couldn’t even react. Once again he was staring down the barrel of his own gun.
“Why did you do it? Why? “Millie asked as she flipped the gun off of safety, knowing exactly how to handle a gun.
“It wasn’t me, I swear,” Li’l Rico pleaded. “Rah slipped me the pack and told me to give it to you. People in the streets was saying that you helped Mouse set up Seven to get killed,” Rico said with fear evident in his voice and his hands out in front of him as if it could block the bullets. Millie had heard all she needed to hear. She let off a round in Rico’s forehead, causing a loud blast to echo throughout the alley. Li’l Rico dropped instantly. She walked over his body and watched as he struggled for air and blood leaked from the right side of his mouth. Without hesitation, she let off two more rounds in his chest, rocking him to sleep forever. Her hands shook but she didn’t regret what she did. Millie was on a mission. She wanted Rah dead, since she thought Seven had already been killed.
Millie sat in the chair and looked across the table where Apple was waiting for her. Apple’s eyes were red and his beard was scraggily as if he hadn’t shaved in weeks. He took his time sitting down and stared at Millie for a while before picking up the phone. Apple’s eyes didn’t have the same glare that they once had. He had bags under his eyes and had lost a little weight in a six-week period. It was six weeks to the day since Hazel had been murdered. He finally picked up the phone and looked at Millie.
“Speak,” he said as if Millie were nothing.
“I’m Millie, and . . .” Millie said, wanting to introduce herself, knowing that Apple had never seen her except for at the funeral.
“I know who you are, Milian Summers. Originally from Baltimore. Used to run with Tical Manny, right?” Apple said, on point with his information.
“Yeah, how you know?” Millie said, surprised that Apple had known so much even though he was behind bars.
“I have my ways of finding out things. You were with my baby when . . .” Apple paused, beginning to tear up. “When she died?”
Millie shamefully nodded her head and dropped it. Flashes of that horrible day began to form in her thoughts and created an empty feeling inside of her chest. “Yes, I was. The pack she hit was laced,” Millie said, not even looking into Apple’s eyes. She was afraid of what she might see. She, herself, had felt like she had lost a daughter, but she knew that her feelings wouldn’t and couldn’t compare to Apple’s. “I know who did it. It was—”
“Close your mouth,” Apple said sternly as he knocked on the glass, trying to get Millie to looked up at him. “I know who did it. I knew who did it a couple of days after it happened. News travels fast in here,” he said. Apple knew that it was a possibility that their conversation was being monitored, so he wanted to leave out names.
“But how did . . .” Millie started to say.
“Never mind that!” Apple said, reining his tone slightly. “Let’s just get to business, okay?” Apple said, wanting to cut straight to the chase. Tears formed in his eyes and he couldn’t stop them from falling and his nose began to run. He looked desperate.
“I left Hazel some money. I was . . . I was going to give it to her when she got clean. But now I can’t. I want you to have it and do whatever it takes to get the man responsible for my baby’s death. Put it on his head in the streets. Contract for his murder.”
Millie remained silent, nodding in agreement at Apple’s instructions. “Do you know where my old house is at? The one Hazel grew up in,” Apple said, knowing the authorities knew nothing about the home he owned. He gave it to Ms. Johnson when he got put away, putting it in her name.
“Yeah, I know where it’s at,” Millie confirmed, remembering when Hazel showed her the boarded-up house she grew up in. Hazel didn’t have the money to keep it up and was so into drugs that she let the city take claim to it because of back taxes.
“It’s underneath the doghouse. I want you to give me your word that you will get him,” Apple said just before with an intense glare. “I know that pack was meant for you. I know! Now it is your duty to do this for my baby!”
“You have my word.”
“I also want you to go see my friend,” Apple said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had Hassan’s address and number on it. He slid it through the opening at the bottom of the thick glass and Millie grabbed it, quickly putting it in her purse. Apple had clout throughout the jail system, so the guard turned the other way when the exchange was made.
“Tell him to cut Seven off. He will understand,” Apple said.
With that, he hung up the phone and got up and left, not wanting to talk to Millie anymore. He knew that Millie used dope with his daughter and he hated Millie for that. For now, Millie was nothing but a pawn for Apple to seek revenge on Seven. Millie thought Seven was dead, but she soon would find out otherwise. The streets were talking.
“Lights off!” The sound of the husky corrections officer sounded throughout the halls as the lights shut off. Apple lay in his bed smiling and laughing out loud as tears fell from his eyes, thinking about how he and Hazel would s
it up and have fun, just the two of them sharing happy times. She was his pride and joy and the thought of her smile brought brief joy to his heart. But the joy was instantly taken away when he thought about her death. Apple put on a forced smile as he clasped his hands on his chest and closed his eyes, wanting to go to sleep thinking about the good times.
Two hours later Apple was sound asleep and in a deep dream. The images in his head were so vivid and clear, creating a theatrical-type movie in his thoughts. He walked with his arm around Hazel in a New York park. He looked down at her and smiled. In his dream she was still a little girl, smiling while rocking the expensive mink he had purchased for her. “I love you, Daddy,” Hazel said as she looked up at him and smiled from ear to ear.
“I love you too, Hazel. With all my heart,” he said as he spotted a mime doing an act just a few yards from them.
“Ooh look, Daddy!” Hazel screamed as she also spotted the mime. She looked up at Apple and asked, “Can we stop and watch please?” she asked, getting more excited with each word.
“Of course,” he said as he playfully thumped the tip of her nose, making her giggle in enjoyment. Hazel released Apple’s arm and ran to the mime as he pretended as if he was stepping out of a gigantic box. His movements were so precise and perfect. Hazel was standing there, clapping in admiration and jumping up and down. Apple watched as he smiled, feeling happy because his girl was happy. He slowly walked toward them, his gators clicking the pavement, and a long trench over his shoulders. He wore an all-white suit with diamond cufflinks to set it off. A toothpick hung out of his mouth and he was looking like a gangster, just as he would like it. Apple joined them and stood beside Hazel as she continued to watch. He took another glance at Hazel; however, she had grown into an adult. She was a tad taller and had red lipstick on now. She still was beautiful and still enjoying the show. She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
The Dopefiend Page 16
