by K'wan
“I feel you,” Charlie said in a tone that let Chucky know the threat had been received.
“So, you got something for me?” Chucky changed the subject.
“Yeah.” Charlie looked around cautiously as if he was afraid someone would overhear what he was about to say. “Like I was telling you before, I’m fucking this bitch who was laying down with this clown-ass nigga whose name ain’t even worth mentioning. Like I said, dude is corny, but the cats he runs with are supposed to be heavy out here, on some real murder for hire shit.”
“I know plenty of nigga who kill for profit, but tell me what you and this blabbermouth bitch got to do with me?” Chucky said in an irritated tone. He hated the way Charlie could be so roundabout when telling a story instead of getting to the point.
“Give me a minute. I’m getting to it,” Charlie told him. “So according to her, the nigga gets drunk and starts trying to impress her by shooting his trap off about all the high-profile hits him and his squad have been behind. That’s when your name came up. What’s on the wire is that these niggas picked up the contract on your head.”
Chucky shrugged. “Them and every other thirst bag trying to fatten their pockets or shove their tongues further up Ramses’s ass. Charlie, niggas been trying to kill me all my life and I’m still here to talk shit about it.”
“I respect your gangsta, Chucky, I’m just trying to pull your coat. Even the Dominicans uptown use them when they come across problems they can’t handle. These ain’t no knockoff shooters; they’re the real deal.”
Chucky felt both flattered and leery. He knew Ramses felt betrayed and would send shooters at him, but he hadn’t expected him to drop the kind of bread it would take to hire actual assassins. Apparently Ramses placed greater value on Chucky’s life than he did. Street niggas popping shots to try to fatten their pockets Chucky could either evade or knock off, but trained assassins would be much harder to deal with. The way Chucky figured it, the best defense was a potent offense and striking first would give his would-be killers food for thought.
“You done good, Charlie. Now tell me, how much do you know about these niggas who been sent to take my life?”
It had been a busy day for Adam. Not that all his days weren’t busy, but when he rose that morning it was the first time in a long time he rose with a purpose other than chasing a dollar. He picked out his most crisp pair of jeans and a polo shirt he had caught on sale at Macy’s and a brand new pair of white-on-white Air Force Ones. It was a big day for him and he wanted to make sure he looked the part.
Adam began his mission around 10:00 a.m., picking up his girl for breakfast. He smiled when she answered the door wearing tight blue jeans, a fresh pair of Jordans, and a shirt cut close enough to show off her curves. Their day started with steak and eggs at a local diner, before they hopped a bus to Rye Playland. Amusement parks weren’t really Adam’s thing, but Bess loved them. She squealed like a schoolgirl when the pirate ship ride suspended them upside down, spilling all the change from Adam’s pockets.
When Bess had her fill of rides and cotton candy, they hopped a bus back to the city and headed to downtown Brooklyn. Adam had made them dinner reservations at the Hanging Gardens, but they had about a twenty-minute wait before they were to be seated, so Adam suggested they take a walk along the promenade. He figured that would be as good a place as any.
“So, are you having a good time, Bess?” Adam asked her as they strode down the promenade, looking at the city skyline across the water.
“The best time!” Bess exclaimed, hugging the large teddy bear Adam had won for her at the amusement park. “I can ride roller coasters over and over and never get tired of them. Feeling the wind whip across my face makes me feel so free.” She twirled with the bear in her arms excitedly. In many ways Bess was much like a child and the simplest things made her happy.
“Well enjoy it while you can. In a few months you ain’t gonna be able to go on those rides anymore for a while. Can’t have my son coming out with a scrambled brain.” Adam rubbed her stomach. He could feel the first hints of her baby bump.
“How you know it’s gonna be a boy? It might be a girl. What you gonna do then?” Bess asked playfully.
“Whether it’s a girl or a boy, I’m gonna love it just the same,” Adam said proudly.
Bess smiled. “Adam, you’re the best boyfriend I ever had. You never get mad because I ain’t smart and call me names like the other ones.” Her voice took on a sad tone. Being slow Bess didn’t have the easiest time growing up and often found herself victimized by those closest to her. From her father to boys she dated, they all took what they wanted then abandoned her like trash. Adam had been the only man to ever show her genuine kindness and love.
“Bess, you know you’re my favorite girl.” Adam draped his arm around her. “I would never be anything but a good man to you.”
Bess smiled. “I know, Adam. You always been good to me, so you don’t have to tell me.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to tell you, but I would like to show you.” Adam dug in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He popped it open and inside was a small diamond ring. It wasn’t the grandest stone, but it was what his pockets could afford. “My daddy wasn’t never around and I want to make sure I’m always there for my kid by making an honest woman of you.”
“Adam, are you serious?” Bess asked excitedly.
“As a heart attack, baby. I want you to be my wife. Please say yes.”
“Of course I will!” Bess threw her arms around him and planted kisses all over his face.
Bess and Adam strolled hand in hand, talking about their plans for the future. It was a happy moment for both of them and nothing could ruin it, or so they thought. As they were walking, Adam noticed an unfamiliar man leaning against a car. He wouldn’t have paid it any mind if it hadn’t been for the way the man was staring at them. There was something in his eyes that made the hairs on the back of Adam’s neck stand up. Adam tightened his grip on Bess’s hand, keeping his eyes on the glaring man.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Bess asked, noticing Adam had tensed.
“Nothing,” Adam said calmly, so as not to frighten her. The man who had been glaring at them was now walking in their direction. Adam had been in the streets long enough to know when something was about to pop off, and he went for his gun. Before he could clear it from his waist, something smashed into the back of his head.
The world swam and for a minute Adam had trouble focusing. He thought he might’ve been falling, but wasn’t totally sure until his face hit the concrete. His ears were clogged, like he was underwater, but he could hear Bess screaming. He tried to push himself off the ground to help her, but someone kicked him viciously in the mouth. He spat blood and teeth onto the ground as he rolled over onto his back. Standing over him he saw two people; one was the unfamiliar man who had been watching them, and the other was someone he had seen only in a picture.
“So, you and your punk-ass boys are the ones who picked up the contract on my life, huh?” Chucky stood above Adam, twirling an aluminum bat. “I hope they gave you a nice retainer, because y’all are gonna need every dime to pay for all them funerals!” Chucky snarled before tearing into Adam with the bat.
Bess crawled over and threw her body over Adam to protect him. “Please, you’re gonna kill him,” she pleaded.
“That’s the general fucking idea.” Chucky tried to kick Bess away, but she held fast to her lover, taking some of the licks with the bat that were meant for Adam. When Chucky was done caving Adam’s skull in he drew his gun.
Bess looked up at him. Her face was bloodied and one of her eyes was now swollen shut from being hit with the bat. Even being mentally slow, she was smart enough to know what was about to happen. “Please don’t. I’m pregnant.” Bess tried to appeal to Chucky’s sense of humanity, but Chucky had stopped being human a long time ago.
“Then I’m doing you a favor by making sure he’ll never be born into this fucked-up
world.” Chucky tapped the trigger twice.
Chucky left the bodies there for the police to find, beaten and shot to death. When they found them, Bess was still hugging Adam’s corpse. She loved him so much that even as she took her last breaths she was still trying to protect him. In the police report one officer wrote it up as one of the most heartbreaking crime scenes he had ever come across.
“Chucky, what the fuck did you do, man?” Charlie asked nervously as they sped away from the crime scene in Chucky’s BMW. Rissa and Maggie sat in the back seat in stunned silence.
“I was practicing my swing for the upcoming little league season,” Chucky said sarcastically. “What the fuck does it look like we just did?”
“We?” Charlie asked in shock. “Man, I never laid a hand on either one of them!”
“Don’t matter, you were there. Same as when I knocked that old Italian out the box. You might not have gotten your punk-ass hands dirty, but you helped me with both. That makes you an accessory and that’s sure as hell the story I’m gonna tell if you ever get to running your mouth and this shit comes back to me.”
“Chucky, my mother just had to bury my sister and I don’t think her heart would be able to take it if I went to prison over some shit with you,” Charlie told him.
“Nobody is going to prison if you do like I tell you and keep your mouth shut. Now keep your ass quiet so I can think!” Chucky barked. Steering with his knees he tapped a cigarette out of his pack and lit it. Killing the young couple had been a bad move because of the heat it was going to bring on him, but he had to do it. For a whole year he had been dodging one threat or another and it was time for him to go on the offensive. He wanted word to get out to anybody with big ideas that he was still willing and ready to kill. This would make them think twice. The only problem with that was word would quickly spread that Chucky was back in town and he would lose the element of surprise. It would only be a matter of time before he ran into someone who was quicker on the draw than he was or, worse, Ramses. There was no longer time to carefully orchestrate his plan; he had to do what he had to do and get back in the wind.
CHAPTER 9
“How many times do you plan on changing your clothes?” Asia asked. She was stretched across Persia’s bed, flipping through a magazine and watching Persia try on outfit after outfit.
“As many times as it takes for me to find something that doesn’t make me look like I borrowed it.” Persia turned to the side, looking in the full-length mirror to see how the lavender dress made her ass look. It, like everything else she tried on, didn’t seem to fit quite right. She had gained some of her weight back during her recovery, but she was still a bit on the thin side compared to where she used to be.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Asia put the magazine down and got up to stand next to Persia. “I know chicks who would kill to have your figure, including me.” She looked at herself in the mirror. Asia was a beautiful girl, but didn’t have much in the way of hips or ass. She was a tall and thin girl with just enough of a figure to entice a man, but could hardly be considered thick. “I envy you, Persia, and women like you. You have curves, and curves are beautiful. Me, on the other hand . . .” Asia turned herself this way and that in the mirror. “I’m cursed to be a walking billboard of what society believes is the perfect size.”
“You could stand to put on a few pounds,” Persia joked.
Asia rolled her eyes. “I wish. The last time I got heavier than one hundred and twenty-five pounds my mother tried to check me into fat camp.”
“Damn, Nya don’t fuck around when it comes to your career,” Persia said, speaking of Asia’s mother/manager.
“She takes it more serious than I do.” Asia sat back on the bed and crossed one long chocolate leg over the other. “Most times I feel like my mother pushes me so hard because she’s trying to relive her glory years through me, but I’m not her and this isn’t the eighties. Being rail thin is cool for white models, but in today’s industry there’s also a place for Black women with curves.”
One of the reasons Persia loved talking to Asia was because she always spoke her mind. She was one of the rare people in Persia’s life where what you saw was what you got. There was nothing fraudulent about her. Lately Asia had been one of her closest confidants, but it hadn’t always been like that.
Persia and Asia actually started out as rivals. Persia was one of the few Black girls at the prestigious St. Mary’s Academy, and one of the most popular girls at school until Asia’s arrival at St. Mary’s. She and her family had just moved to the States from Germany and her celebrity status as one of the most popular young models in Europe made her a quick favorite among the other girls. Persia didn’t like Asia; she felt like she was stuck-up and had entitlement issues while Asia felt the same of her. The fact that Asia’s mother had purchased one of the biggest houses in Persia’s neighborhood didn’t help their rivalry. It was inevitable that Persia and Asia would bump heads, but ironically when they did it was over something that didn’t involve either of them directly.
Two white trash sisters who ran with Asia by the names of Vickie and Jean dropped a dime on Persia’s best friend Sarah over some pills she had sold them and Sarah ended up in serious trouble. As payback Persia busted Vickie’s nose. Instead of handling it on her own Vickie ran to Asia and made up a lie to get Asia on her side. Things got ugly between Persia and the girls from Asia’s crew, with an incident when they even tried to jump her at the bus stop. When the truth finally came out and Vickie and Jean had been exposed as liars Asia turned her wrath and her mob on her one-time friends. Asia realized she had misjudged Persia and as a peace offering she extended an invitation to Persia to attend a celebrity auction that her mother was hosting in the city. That was the beginning of their budding friendship. As the girls spent more and more time around each other they realized they had more in common than just going to the same school and living in the same neighborhood.
“So, where are you guys off to tonight?” Asia asked.
“Probably just dinner and a movie, nowhere special,” Persia said as if it was no big deal.
“Girl, it’s always special when you step out with a man like Vaughn Tate,” Asia said.
“You sound just like my homegirls from Harlem.” Persia sucked her teeth. She stepped out of the dress she was wearing and grabbed another one from the closet. “Vaughn is just another guy.”
Asia gave her a look. “Persia, the last dude I dated was just another guy. The fine-ass dude who drives the UPS truck is just another guy. Vaughn Tate is about to be the face of a sports franchise. I don’t think he qualifies as just another guy. You better stop thumbing your nose at that wealthy piece of meat and get with the program before some other bitch does. Especially after all I did to hook you guys up!”
Persia cocked her head to one side. “You? Asia, I knew Vaughn long before he got drafted and before I bumped into him at the auction.”
“Yes, but you weren’t checking for him!” Asia shot back. “I knew from the minute the way Vaughn was looking at you that he had it bad, but your naïve ass couldn’t even see it. I felt it was my civic duty to help you not squander the opportunity by passing him your phone number, because I knew you weren’t going to do it.”
Persia laughed. “You’re right about that, because I sure wasn’t trying to get caught up with no dudes after my ordeal with Chucky.” It was true, Vaughn was checking for Persia but she wasn’t trying to give him the time of day. It took a hell of a lot of work on his part to get her to agree to go out with him with a divine intervention from Asia.
“Persia, you can’t compare a crackhead, no offense, to a man like Vaughn. Now I’ve come across an athlete or three in my day and I’ve found most of them to be arrogant sons of bitches with mommy issues, but I don’t get that from Vaughn. He seems like the genuine article,” Asia said sincerely.
“Vaughn is cool peoples, but I wouldn’t go planning any weddings just yet. I’m only eighteen years old and I’m m
ore concerned with graduating high school and going to college than I am with trying to get some nigga to wife me,” Persia said.
“Ain’t nobody telling you to settle down just yet, Persia, but what I am telling you is to go into this with an open mind. Most girls will never meet a real millionaire, let alone one who doesn’t just want to fuck and drop them back off. Vaughn likes you, and I know you’re digging him. This thing y’all got going may or may not go anywhere, but have fun with it while you can. Stop worrying about your past and learn to live in the moment.”
Three outfit changes later, Persia was ready to go. She chose a simple black dress with the matching heels to wear out on her date. She wasn’t sure where they were going for dinner so she didn’t want to overdo or underdo it. When she came downstairs with Asia, they found Persia’s mother Michelle and her stepfather Richard sitting on the living room couch watching Sparkle on their big-screen television.
Michelle and Richard made an odd pair, with her being a reformed hood chick and him being a square who had probably never held a gun in his life, but they made a dynamic couple. In the beginning Persia didn’t like Richard. She looked at him as the man who was trying to take her father’s place and she resented him for it. It took a long time before Persia came to the realization that Richard, much like her real father, only had her best interests at heart. They didn’t have a father-daughter relationship, but Persia respected him for stepping up and being a good husband to her mother and provider for their family.
“Looks like someone’s got a hot date,” Michelle said when she noticed Persia all dressed up. Michelle looked like a slightly older version of Persia except she was a shade or two lighter and had bigger breasts and hips.
