RedBone 2

by T. Styles

  He laughed. “I figured you weren’t about to give me none of that sweet thing. My luck ain’t ever been that good.” He licked his lips. “Naw, sweetness, just give me a few bucks and I’ll take you to her. Deal?” He stood up and extended his hand.

  She looked at it but had no intention of shaking it. Her instincts told her to leave, but she ignored them. “Deal.”

  Eager to put Eleanor out of her misery, Farah reached into her Louis Vuitton purse to grab her wallet. The moment she did, she was struck in the back of the head with a bottle. She plummeted to the dirty floor, and her lips pressed against a used condom. She tried to get her bearings together when, suddenly, her purse was ripped from her grasp. She turned over and kicked and hit him, but it didn’t seem to be helping. Seconds later, other people got in on the party. There seemed to be at least twenty people striking her from all areas of her body. In the end, she knew she was being robbed, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, trying to land blows hard enough to stop them. “Leave me alone.” No one listened as they worked overtime to take everything she owned.

  “We gonna leave you alone, bitch! After we take everything you got,” said someone from behind her.

  When they were finished, she was stripped of everything of value. Her purse was gone. Her shoes were gone. Her coat was gone, and even the jewelry around her neck and fingers. She lay on the dirty floor, crying her eyes out. It became apparent that her life was so far out of hand that it wasn’t funny anymore.

  After everyone was gone and she was surrounded by silence, she got up and limped out of the house. She could barely see out of one of her eyes, and blood streamed out of her nose. The cool air attacked her arms as she hobbled down the street, looking for some help. Most people saw the condition she was in, but they stayed as far away from her as possible.

  She felt lost, until suddenly someone beeped at her. “Damn, baby. You out here looking hard as shit.” The voice came from a blue Mustang. “You want a ride?”

  Farah looked him over. He was a light-skinned nigga with a low haircut and hazel-brown eyes. Since he didn’t have a country accent and looked harmless enough, she decided to take him up on his offer. Besides, she wasn’t even close to her house, and since they stole her purse, she couldn’t even afford to catch a cab. “Yes, if you can take me home, I would appreciate it.”

  “Well, come on in.” He opened the passenger door and she slid inside. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. The last thing I want is for a pretty thing like you to get sick on me.”

  Farah hopped into the warm car and was immediately at ease due to the heat. Although it was no longer winter, the air was still chilly.

  “What happened to you, baby?” He observed her battered and bruised frame. “And why you got all those scars on your face? I know you not letting no nigga bang you out. You too pretty for all that shit.”

  She sat back into the seat and closed her eyes. She was trying to prevent more tears from streaming out. “It’s a long story, but I’d appreciate if you would just let me ride in silence. I know it’s your car and everything, but I’m not much on company right now.”

  He looked at her and frowned. “And who the fuck are you, some sort of queen?”

  Her eyes popped open.

  His total disposition changed. “Bitch, this is my ride, not yours. I call the shots in this mothafucka.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off like that.” The last thing she needed was to get tossed out on her ass. She had to come correct . . . quick. “I just had a bad night.”

  He pulled over and parked. “I was just looking out for you, but since you got an attitude, get the fuck out.”

  She wasn’t anywhere near home, so it was time to beg. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just had a long day.”

  “Farah, that’s what you don’t understand. I don’t give a fuck about you or your day. As a matter of fact, when I saw the great job my peoples did to that pretty little face of yours, I couldn’t have been more pleased.” He grabbed her by the chin and moved her head to left and right. “Them mothafuckas were brilliant. It’s amazing what people will do for a little rock.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she slapped his hand off of her face. “How did you know my name?” She backed up to the window. “I didn’t tell you shit about me.”

  He laughed. “You ain’t got to tell me shit about you, bitch.”

  “Who are you with? Eleanor? Rhonda?” She paused. “Randy?”

  He pulled a 9 mm from under the seat and aimed it in her direction. “I won’t tell you again to get the fuck out of my ride.”

  She was so frustrated by people following her and not knowing what was going on that she’d given up. “If you gonna kill me, just do it already,” she cried. “I don’t give a fuck anymore!”

  Calling her bluff, he fired out of his open window. “Do you really mean that?”

  Realizing she was almost hit, she quickly undid her seatbelt and pushed the door open. Before the dude sped off, he threw a white envelope at her. “Enjoy the gift, bitch.”

  He sped off, and she grabbed the package on the ground. When she opened it, her legs gave out and she fell to the cold ground. Inside was a picture of her holding the property manager’s son’s hand as she led him to her car minutes before she killed him. There was also a picture of Gary, the man she met one day when she was walking with Lesa, her ex-roommate, to the store. It was the same day she killed him and sucked his blood.

  The mystery of who was taking pictures was heightened. It wasn’t just about Knox now. Whoever it was wanted revenge.

  “Who are you?” she screamed out loud. “And what do you want from me?”

  Chapter 25

  Killa

  “I’m telling you, it don’t look too good for your boy.”

  Killa had just finished bagging up the dope with Major for their next sale. Slade wasn’t home because he was still searching for Eleanor with Judge, Grant, and his mother. This worked out for Killa because it left him some time to speak to Markee in private.

  “We done here,” Killa said to Major. “You mind if I rap to Markee in private?”

  “No doubt,” Major said, leaving the apartment to go to his own.

  “You wanna grab a beer with me right quick? I wanted to rap to you about a few things. Plus we haven’t seen you in months, and you look bad, man.”

  “What is it? All the weight I lost done gave you some competition?” he joked.

  “Not even close,” Killa said, nudging him on the arm. “Come on, man. Have a beer with me.”

  Killa made him nervous, but he knew his offer was a demand and not a request. “I guess I can have a drink with you. I don’t want beer though. I’ll take a soda.”

  Killa walked into the kitchen and returned with two beers. He tossed one at Markee. “Fuck a soda, you gonna drink a beer. This shit is serious.”

  Despite his request, Markee accepted it, popped the top, and gulped half down. “Thanks, man. I guess I needed that anyway.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So what’s up?”

  Killa wasn’t about to tell him that, prior to his mini vacation, he’d followed him. He wasn’t going to tell him that he saw him go into their sworn enemy’s house. Instead he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “What made you disappear for so long without telling family? Don’t you know how mad mothafuckas were?”

  “I had some shit I had to sort out.” He sighed, placing the beer down. “And I finally figured out what I have to do.”

  Killa nodded. “Well, how you been holding up since you stopped working for Randy?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not understanding the question.”

  “You used to get a lot of money with him. So much you were able to move out of Mississippi without looking back. I’m just checking to make sure you handling it okay without him.”

  “I guess I’m fine.” He rubbed his kne
es. “Especially since you and Slade put me on. It ain’t like I’m broke. It’s just different money.”

  Killa sipped his beer. He wasn’t getting the response he wanted, and he was growing agitated. “Do you have anything you want to get off of your chest, man? Anything at all?”

  Markee’s phone went off in his pocket, indicating he had a message. He read it and immediately seemed edgy. “No . . . I’m fine. If I wanted to rap to you about something, I know I could.” He set the beer on the table. “Do you know where Slade is?”

  “He’s out. Why?”

  “No reason.” He sighed. “Look, I gotta go. Something came up that I have to see to.” He stood up and moved toward the door. “I’m going to get up with you later, okay?”

  Before he left, Killa said, “Markee, I know we haven’t been the closest, and I want to be the first to apologize for all of the shit I did to you on my end. Almost losing Audio and trying to find Knox reminded me about how important family is, and I wanted to tell you that if you got problems I can help. If you in too deep, there ain’t nothing I can’t or won’t do to pull you out. You understand what I’m saying? But you gotta tell me now.”

  Markee wanted to tell him so bad about the position Randy was putting him in, but he wanted to handle things on his own. “I know you got me, man. Just look out for your brothers, because you never know when you might not see them again.” He dapped him up. “I love you, man.” He left the apartment.

  Slade was sitting on the couch, thinking about Farah, with a beer in his hand. Although he was still working for Willie, money didn’t seem important. The only thing on his mind these days was Knox and Farah, in that order. He heard from his family that Farah had been in and out of the building with some niggas. For her sake and theirs, he prayed he never saw it with his own eyes.

  Killa handed Slade a fresh beer and said, “How come we got places of our own, but we can’t leave this nigga’s apartment?” Killa laughed, looking around.

  “I don’t know.” He chuckled. “I guess his spot feels more like home.” They clinked the cans together. “It was the first place we landed after leaving Mississippi.”

  “We been holding the nigga Markee’s apartment hostage forever. I think it’s about time to let him have it back. Don’t you?”

  “I hope you talking about yourself, too,” Slade said, focusing back on the TV. “Anyway, no matter where I go, there always seems to be one too many niggas around. I just want peace and quiet.”

  “You know anyplace you go, Ma gonna be too. She not keen on letting us out of her sight these days.”

  Slade sighed. “Tell me about it. Where she at now?”

  “With Willie. They taking a liking to each other. What you think about that?”

  Slade had a lot of theories about the matter. If he had to grab one off the top of his head, it would be that Willie was trying to do anything in his power to get the Baker Boys to stay, and that included shacking up with his mother. “Not sure what I think about it right now.” He shrugged. “For his sake, I just hope he treats her right.”

  “I’m with you on that,” Killa replied.

  Slade sipped his beer and looked up at the ceiling. “Anyway, I think I will start spending most of my time at my crib.” He looked over Markee’s apartment. “And I know this nigga wants us out of here as soon as possible. He needs his space.”

  Killa sipped his beer and looked at the TV screen. “I think Markee can’t be trusted, man. I don’t know why, but my heart tells me he’s bad news. What we gonna do about it if we have to step to him?”

  Slade cut the TV off and observed his brother to be sure he was hearing him correctly. “What you mean, what we gonna do if we gotta step to him? He’s still family, Killa. The nigga done so much dumb shit in the past that if we were gonna hurt him, it would’ve been done already. Sometimes I think we read too much into dude, and it’s time to back off a little.”

  “He can’t be trusted,” Killa reiterated. “Before he disappeared for months, I followed him over Randy’s. This was after we had beef. Why go over there and not tell us? It was the day Audio went missing. I’m telling you, it don’t look too good for your boy. You know how he is.”

  “I don’t know what’s up with Markee, but I do know he would never do anything to go against the family. I put that on my life.”

  “I hope you don’t have to.”

  “He’s blood, Killa. Remember it.”

  Killa shook his head. He hated how his instincts were never respected. He was always written off when actually, he was very keen. Just like Knox. “I feel you on that, but why go over Randy’s house and not tell us? And what was up with the disappearance?”

  Slade drank the rest of his beer. “Answer me this: Did you ask him? You questioning me like I got a direct tap into his thinking process. Going to him directly could have given you every answer you needed. Right?”

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t ask him because he always got a lie for everything. I figured it would be a waste of my time.”

  “Well, maybe you should step to him like a man before you start pointing fingers at him like he’s a child.”

  Chapter 26

  Farah

  “First you have to prove it.”

  After being robbed and given pictures by some unknown person, Farah lay in her room, crying her eyes out. She hadn’t even seen the members of the Fold, because she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the fact that someone knew more about her than she did them. Missing the unconditional love of her grandmother, she decided to call her for support, because as much as she hated to admit it, she needed her love.

  The phone rang once before Elise answered in a sleepy voice.

  “Grandma, it’s me. Farah.” She paused. “You have time to talk?”

  Elise yawned. “Of course I do, baby. And there ain’t no need in you saying who you are. I know my children’s voices when I hear them.” She giggled. “I’m glad you called, because I was going to call you myself.”

  “Really? What about?” She rolled over on her back.

  “Tell me what’s going on with you first. How do you feel? You sound sad.”

  “I’m awful, Grandma. I don’t feel like myself.” She looked at the dark skies through her window. It was her favorite time of day. “I can’t really explain it.”

  “You’re probably exhausted. You have to get the right amount of rest, Farah. Lately you’ve been running around nonstop.”

  “How do you know that, Grandma?” she asked, irritated. “This is the first time I’ve talked to you in a while.”

  “Just because you don’t call me doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on with you, Farah. And I know you’re out a lot because every time I call, Mia or Shadow answers and tell me you’re not home. A mind can’t rest if a body doesn’t.”

  “I’m trying, Grandma. I have so many things going on. You just don’t understand.”

  Silence.

  “Grandma, are you there?”

  “Yes, baby, I’m still here,” Elise responded. “I’m sorry if I was quiet. It’s just that I want to say something to you, but I don’t know how. I’m old, and sometimes my words come across the wrong way. You know what I mean?”

  “Maybe you should just say it.”

  Elise sighed. “I know, but I wish I could take some of the pressure off of you. I always told your mother before she died to watch you. If only she would’ve listened.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Brownie. She was your daughter, but she wasn’t my mother.”

  Elise fought hard to bite her tongue. “Farah, I want to talk to you about that night. The one when you called me and told me what you did to make yourself feel better. Do you remember that night?”

  Farah immediately had an attitude. “Of course I remember. You told Dr. Martin about it too.”

  “Farah, were you really drinking—”

  “Grandma, please don’t say that over the phone. Why can’t you jus
t leave that day alone? It’s old news now.”

  “I’m not trying to upset you. You know that. It’s just that Dr. Martin came over here again the other day. He said something I didn’t like, and I want to see where your head is at. Are you drinking blood?”

  “You just had to say it over the phone, didn’t you? Why can’t you ever respect my wishes? What is it about me that you don’t like? It’s like you never loved me!”

  “You know that’s not true!”

  “Then what is it?” She sobbed. “I told you what I said because I thought I could trust you. I believed you when you said you were in my corner.”

  “Farah, I’m concerned now more than ever, because when I asked you later, you told me you were drunk and didn’t mean any of it. And I don’t know if you realize it or not, but he’s not letting up on his quest to catch you in the act. If you are doing anything to hurt other people, I advise you stop now, while you still can.”

  “What are you saying?” Farah frowned. “Is he trying to get me locked up or something? Because if that’s the case, I already know.”

  “Farah, I’m begging you to stop doing whatever you’re doing. That’s all I’m going to say. You can choose to listen to me or not, but keep in mind that I warned your mother, too, and she didn’t take heed. Now I can only pray that God protects her soul.”

  “You know what? You always talk about family this and family that! Why did you tell Dr. Martin in the first place? Whatever happens because of it is all your fault!”

  Silence.

  Now Elise believed maybe Dr. Martin wasn’t so far off. “Farah, you need long-term help. I think you should come over here so we can discuss more options.”

  “Long-term help?” She sat up straight in the bed. “Just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “Farah—”

  “I knew I should’ve never trusted you! I hate you, you old, stinky bitch!” She threw the phone against the wall and stomped around her room. Her face started itching, followed by her arms. Needing some fresh air, she threw on her sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Before going out, she grabbed her spare keys.