by K'wan
Li’l Monk slammed Dre against the refrigerator hard enough to knock the magnets off. “Y’all niggas touched my family?” he snarled.
“It wasn’t us!” Dre protested. “Omega is the big homie. All any of us know is that him and King Tut went to handle something and only one of them came back in one piece.”
“Damn,” Li’l Monk cursed. His being marked for death and Omega getting taken out the game weren’t coincidences. Pharaoh and Ramses were cleaning house.
“That’s all I know, I swear, man!” the kid with the shaved head told him.
“I believe you, which is why you still have your fucking head. I’m gonna let you live, but I want you to take a message back to your boys for me. I didn’t start this family feud, but I’m gonna finish it. You tell those cocksuckers Ramses and Pharaoh that I’m coming and I’m going to keep wasting their soldiers until Pharaoh stops hiding and comes out onto the dance floor so we can settle this like gangstas. That faggot you works for thinks he’s a god, but I’m going to show the world he is indeed mortal when I make him bleed!”
“You got it, Li’l Monk, anything you say. I’ll tell him,” Dre fearfully agreed.
“Yeah, I know you’re gonna deliver my message, Dre, but you’re gonna have to write it down. I don’t know how well your mouth will work after I break your jaw,” Li’l Monk told him before proceeding to viciously pummel him.
Li’l Monk stepped out of the building and breathed deeply. The night air felt good in his lungs, especially after the light workout he’d had in the apartment. Sadly he had expected more from the men Ramses had selected to replace him and Omega. Dre and his crew were little more than flunkies, and hardly capable of running an organization. This meant they weren’t the head of the snake. Li’l Monk had a feeling if he turned over enough rocks, he’d find King Tut hiding under one of them. It was just one more blood debt he’d have to settle.
The burner phone he had gotten from Kunta vibrated in his pocket. “Speak,” he answered. Li’l Monk listened intently as the caller on the other end spoke. “Good looking out, Princess P.” He ended the call. Barely able to contain his excitement he pressed send on the only number stored in the phone and waited. “Yeah, it’s me. A little birdie just whispered in my ear and told me where to find Chucky. It’s time to end this.”
CHAPTER 35
For the last year or so Chucky had been having shit luck. He’d been beaten, humiliated, stripped of his rank, and damn near killed. To boot he had a drug habit that was becoming harder and harder to control. Yes, it had been a rotten year for Chucky but the phone call he’d gotten from Persia that morning was a sign that things might actually be about to change for the better.
Ever since he had dropped Persia off the day before she had been on his mind heavily. The minute he let her walk off he cursed himself for not just kidnapping her ass and keeping her close to him until he did what he had to do and could blow town. He knew that getting her to double-cross her new man was a long shot. Vaughn was a million dollar athlete who could give Persia everything and Chucky was a junkie trying to recapture his greatness. It wasn’t even a fair fight. This was why his heart filled with so much joy when she called him and said she was in.
Chucky had to admit that getting Persia to set up Vaughn hadn’t been in his original plan. He knew the broken condition he’d left Persia in the last time he’d been in New York and expected to come back to find her still the floundering mess he’d left behind, but to his surprise Persia had really started pulling it together. The tipping point was coming across the picture with her and Vaughn in the newspaper. After all he had put her through Persia had bounced back and it was killing Chucky. Looking at her and Vaughn shining made him think of himself and Persia and what they could’ve possibly been if he hadn’t fucked it up. He couldn’t stand to see her happy without him so he looked to find some company for his own misery.
Chucky had no illusions about the slim chances of him convincing Persia to rip Vaughn off. At best he figured he’d fleece her for whatever few dollars he could pressure her into scrambling together, but to his surprise she was receptive to his advances. This made him hopeful. With enough money and enough of a head start he and Persia could start over somewhere else where their pasts didn’t matter and he could show her the man he was capable of being as opposed to the monster she’d come to know. This was where it got complicated. Before he could focus on a future with Persia, he had to do something about the present. Persia had made it clear that before they could explore the road of life he had to cut his extra baggage, which meant Maggie and Rissa had to go, and he had to be creative about how he gave them their walking papers.
Persia had said she wanted to come through later on that night to go over the details of their plan so he didn’t have a lot of time, but for what Chucky planned he would only need a few hours. He changed out of the sweatpants and T-shirt he had been wearing most of the day and changed into something more befitting him: a pair of Timberlands and nice sweater and a brand new pair of jeans Rissa had boosted for him from Macy’s. He wanted to make sure he looked good for Persia when he saw her. After giving himself the once-over in the mirror he was ready to put his plan into motion.
When he came out into the living room he found Rissa and Maggie sitting around the table talking. He reasoned they must’ve been talking about him because they abruptly stopped when he walked into the room. “What y’all out here doing? Plotting on killing me?” he joked.
“No, we plotting on getting off E,” Maggie said. From the slight twitch in her eyes Chucky knew she was starting to geek.
“Damn, y’all hoovered up all the shit we came up on last night?” He faked an attitude. Chucky knew damn well the few grams he had set out for them wouldn’t be enough to float Maggie and Rissa for the whole day. He needed them thirsty for what he had in store.
“Don’t say ‘y’all’ because I barely had any,” Rissa said with an attitude. She had been acting more moody than usual since she had come back from Persia’s house.
“If you’re slow you blow, bitch.” Maggie wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry though, Chucky. I saved a taste for you.” She dipped in her bra and pulled out the small amount of cocaine she had hidden from her sister.
“And that’s why you’re my down-ass bitch.” Chucky kissed her on the forehead.
“It ain’t enough to cook, but we can snort it,” Maggie said while emptying the contents onto the tabletop.
Chucky looked at the coke and frowned. “That ain’t gonna do much but take the edge off. I was thinking we could have us a little party.” He walked over to the refrigerator and removed a box of cereal from the top. He dug inside and removed the brown paper bag he had stashed in there and threw it on the table.
Maggie grabbed the bag and tore it open. Inside there was a small bundle of cocaine. “You sneaky bastard, you’ve been holding out!”
“I wasn’t holding out. I was making sure you two thirsty bitches didn’t smoke or snort up all the shit and leave us with nothing for our celebration.”
“What are we celebrating?” Rissa asked, eyeing the drugs hungrily.
Chucky took a seat at the head of the table. “Ladies, tonight is our last night in New York. By tomorrow we’ll be moving on to greener pastures.”
“About damn time. I’m about sick of this place and everybody in it,” Maggie said.
“By tomorrow night, we’ll be in the wind, but first I got some last-minute stuff to take care of. Y’all hold it down while I’m gone.”
“Where you going?” Maggie asked, emptying the cocaine onto the table. She couldn’t wait to cook it up so she could smoke.
“None of your damn business,” Chucky snapped.
Maggie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You must be going to see your precious princess, considering you’re all dressed up.” She looked him up and down.
“Maggie, don’t start your shit, not tonight.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Whenever someo
ne mentions Persia your ass gets all defensive and shit,” Maggie capped.
“And what’s it to you if I am going to see Persia? You jealous?” Chucky taunted her.
Maggie laughed. “Of that square bitch? Never! But it is kinda fucked up that you’ll try to put your unwashed cock in my mouth whenever the mood strikes you, but you get all spiffy for her.”
“It’s all a part of my plan,” Chucky said.
“Plan my ass.” Maggie snorted. “That little bitch ass got you sprung!”
“You better watch your step, Maggie,” Chucky warned.
“What’s the matter? Does the truth hurt? You know, you’ve been going on and on about this plan of yours, but so far I ain’t seen you do shit but chase this bitch who you claimed ruined you. You know when I first hooked up with you, Chucky, I thought you had some real potential, but now I ain’t so sure. This bitch has got your brain all scrambled. Shit, you’ve got your head shoved so far up her ass that you might as well wear it as a hat!” Maggie sat back and folded her arms triumphantly. Her moment of victory was short-lived.
Chucky moved like a blur, slapping Maggie with so much force that she flew over the back of the chair and crashed to the floor. Rissa moved to get between them, but Chucky shoved her out of the way sending her flying into the refrigerator. Chucky grabbed Maggie by the throat and lifted her off her feet, shaking her like a rag doll. “You trump-mouthed bitch, I think you need a reminder of who the fuck I am!” He slapped her again.
“Get off her, Chucky!” Rissa screamed.
“Shut your fucking mouth before you get a taste of this medicine too!” Chucky snapped at Rissa. Chucky grabbed Maggie by the jaws and began to apply pressure. “You think you’re hot shit, but don’t forget that when I dragged your ass out of Philadelphia you were sucking cock for dime bags! If it weren’t for me you’d probably be dead or in jail! I made you so I got no problem breaking you. Never forget that.” He released her and Maggie crumbled to the floor.
Rissa scrambled across the floor and hugged Maggie to her. “You’re a fucking monster, Chucky!” she spat.
“I guess it takes one to know one, or haven’t you seen yourself in the mirror lately?” Chucky laughed. “Now like I was saying, I got some business to handle but I’ll be back in a few. You bitches hang tight, and try to save a little coke for me.” He grabbed his jacket off the couch and stormed out of the apartment.
Long after Chucky had gone, Rissa continued to cradle her sister. Normally it was Maggie trying to protect her, but this time the roles were reversed. She looked down at Maggie. She had a bruised cheek and a bloody lip, but she wasn’t hurt too bad. Rissa had seen her in a lot worse shape. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Chucky hits like a bitch,” Maggie joked, pushing herself off the floor. When she stood, her legs felt weak and she had to grab on to the table for balance.
“You sure you don’t need me to take you to a hospital or something?” Rissa asked in a concerned tone. She reached for Maggie to help steady her, but her sister pulled away.
“I said I’m fine damn it.” Maggie eased into the chair. Her jaw was killing her and her back hurt from when she fell.
“I should’ve stabbed that nigga when he hit you. Who the fuck does he think he is?” Rissa fumed.
“That wasn’t about nothing. Couples fight all the time. Chucky was just mad; he didn’t mean nothing by it.”
“That bruise on your cheek says he meant plenty by it,” Rissa countered, sitting across the table from her sister.
“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this. It ain’t like this was the first time me and Chucky got into it and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” Maggie grabbed a club flyer from the table and began chopping through the cocaine. Between her aching body and her thirst she didn’t have time to wait for it to cook so she was going to snort it.
“So, does that mean you’re supposed to just sit around and be his punching bag?” Rissa shot back. “You don’t have to take this shit from him.”
Maggie rolled up a dollar bill and treated herself to one of the lines of coke she’d carved out. “And what do you suggest I do? Go back to turning tricks in North Philly, or sit around and wait for some white knight to rescue me like you’re doing?” She cleared her nostrils. “I hate to break it to you, baby, that shit is a fantasy and this”—she pointed to the coke—“is my reality.” She took another bump of the coke. “And yours too.” She extended the rolled-up dollar bill to her.
“I don’t want any,” Rissa refused. She could feel her jones coming on, but wanted desperately to keep her head on straight.
Maggie looked at Rissa suspiciously. “What the fuck is eating you?”
“Nothing, I just wanna talk to my big sister without my head being all fucked up for once,” Rissa said.
“Is that right?” Maggie made another line disappear. “So tell me.” She snorted to clear her nasal passages. “What exactly do you wanna talk about, little sister?”
“This!” Rissa motioned around at the apartment. “You ain’t gotta put up with this shit. What’s to stop you from picking up and leaving him? What’s to stop us from just putting Chucky and all his shit behind us?”
Maggie lit a cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Simple: I ain’t got no money, no place to go, and no desire to do more than to just make it from one day to the next. Chucky might not be the best man, but he has his uses. Though I’m sure I ain’t gotta tell you that.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Rissa asked defensively.
“C’mon, Rissa. You can’t bullshit me. I used to change your shitty Pampers, so I think I know you better than anyone. You think I don’t see the way you look at Chucky and the way he looks at you? I know y’all been together.”
“I can explain.”
“Nah, baby girl. You don’t owe me no explanations. That Chucky can be quite the charmer when he’s after something.”
“How long have you known?” Rissa asked shamefully.
“For a while now,” Maggie said, snorting another line. She pinched her nose, as this one stung a bit.
“How come you never said anything?” Rissa asked.
“What good would it have done? For as much as either one of us might hate to admit it, we’re two peas in Chucky’s pod. The only difference between me and you is that I’m an old fool and you’re a young one.” Maggie laughed, and a sneeze came out.
“So what now?”
Maggie shrugged. “We play the hands we’re dealt and see how the game ends.”
“But we don’t have to play. We could run away, just me and you!” Rissa said.
“And where are we gonna go? We ain’t got nothing, and nobody except Chucky. I’m a washed-up old fiend who’s probably gonna die with a pipe to her lips or a gun to her head.”
“Don’t say that.” Rissa’s eyes welled with tears. She had never seen her sister look quite so broken.
Maggie placed a hand over Rissa’s. “This is my truth, and I’ve come to accept it. I’ve made a mess of my life, and if you stay around me you’re gonna make a mess of yours too. You’re still young enough to go out there and do something in the world.”
“I won’t leave you, Maggie,” Rissa told her.
“Then that’s too bad, because I don’t have any plans on going anywhere. This is where I choose to be.” She snorted another line. “You gotta get free of this bullshit. Go out and be somebody. If not for yourself then do it for me. Promise me you’ll make something of yourself.”
“I promise,” Rissa said with tears in her eyes. She had seen her sister beaten down before, but never broken. She reflected on Persia’s speech about her sister being too far gone to save, and for as much as she hated to admit it, she was right.
“Now before you go galloping off into the sunset,” Maggie said, and slid the coke toward Rissa, “take one last ride with your big sister.”
Rissa stared down at the cocaine. She had promised herself she would try to stay straight,
but it looked so white, so pure, so inviting. What could one little bump hurt? “One last ride.” She took the rolled-up dollar from Maggie and treated her nose. She wouldn’t realize how prophetic her words would be until it was too late.
CHAPTER 36
The hospital emergency room was especially busy that night. There were more than a dozen people waiting to be treated for this or that, and more seeming to pour in. The influx of patients kept the doctors and nurses busy running back and forth. In the back of the emergency room a fight broke out between a girl and her boyfriend, which required all three of the security guards who were on duty to break it up. Had they not been so preoccupied with the fight one of them might’ve noticed the man dressed in the long trench coat slip past them.
He got on the elevator and before the doors could close he was joined by an orderly pushing a laundry cart. The orderly gave the man in the trench coat a curious look, but tried not to stare. The man in the trench coat smiled at the orderly as the elevator doors closed. When the doors opened again, on the floor that housed the intensive care patients, the man in the trench coat stepped out, wearing the orderly’s uniform, and pushing the laundry cart.
The duty nurse at the front desk barely spared the orderly a glance as he pushed his cart past her, whistling “Camptown Races.” At the end of the hall there was a police officer. He was supposed to be guarding the room of the patient he had been assigned to, but he was more interested in trying to get the phone number of one of the nurses. When the orderly approached with the laundry cart, the cop gave him an irritated look for interrupting his flirting session.
“Gotta change the bedding in there.” The orderly flashed his best slave grin, all tooth and gums.
The cop mumbled something before motioning for him to go inside while he turned his attention back to the nurse.
The orderly pushed the cart to the side and crossed the dimly lit hospital room. He stopped at the foot of the bed of the lone patient in the room and looked him over. The young man appeared to be in pretty bad shape, with tubes running in and out of his body and an oxygen mask over his face. His body was a mess of bloody bandages, some of which were starting to leak into the bed sheets. The orderly picked up his chart and gave it a quick look. The patient had suffered multiple gunshot wounds and a collapsed lung. He didn’t look in any condition to get up from the bed, let alone cause any kind of trouble, but one of his hands was cuffed to the bed rail.
