by Leo Sullivan
“Man you shot my brother…” Buff started
The other gunman struck him in the head with the butt of the assault rifle instantly opening up a gash that spewed blood. Buff bent over in pain. Droplets of blood soiled Peaches’s shoes as placed her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream.
“Pah –please, don’t hurt us!” She pleaded.
“Shut up bitch and open the door so we can drag that nigga in the house.” He gestured toward Zeus who lay on the ground, groaning in agony. Buff staggered over to help his brother inside the apartment. The short gunman shoved me and I almost stumbled and fell. That’s when I remembered that the 9.mm Buff had given me was in my purse.
Chapter 9
“All units! All units in the vicinity of 27 and Myers Park there were shots reported, followed by the sound of a woman’s scream. This is possibly a 211 in progress.” The dispatcher said over the police radio. As officer Greyson drove the police cruiser to the unmarked Mercury Ford, he listened attentively.
“Robbery in progress,” he blurted out. His partner Stephens stirred out of his sleep. They had just left the scene of a homicide. A homeless woman had been brutally beaten with a gulf club and set on fire. It had been another day’s work full of senseless crime. They were on their way to the station for the end of the night when the dispatcher’s call came through.
“Let’s swing by there. It’s only a few blocks from here,” Greyson said.
Stephens grumbled a complaint. He should have been home hours ago. His wife Becky was seven months pregnant with their first child and had been very hormonal. She was as evil as the devil. She often complained that since he had gotten promoted to Lead Detective he got paid more money, but worked long grueling hours. The other day she threatened to divorce him during one of her tantrums.
“This comes with the job and is part of the territory. Criminals work over time and we have to keep up,” Greyson told his partner.
“I know, but Becky is going to kill me,” Stephens said with a sour expression as he sat up in his seat. He yawned and mopped his face with both of his hands trying to shake the fatigue from lack of sleep.
“Trust me, she’ll get used to it.”
“Or divorce me,” Stephens retorted.
* * *
As soon as they pulled onto the block of 27th street in Myers Park there were two patrol cars already there. The uniformed officers were out on foot patrolling the area. The bright, white glow of their flashlights illuminated the darkness. A dog barked from somewhere in the distance as Greyson and his partner exited their car. Greyson, now a veteran detective, inspected the ground for bullet casings as he approached two burly cops that looked like they’d spent most of their time on duty sampling doughnuts at Krispy Kream.
“What’s going on fellas?” Greyson asked as he approached the two cops.
“Nothing much,” the short, rotund cop responded. He had a bulldog face with a large crooked nose that looked like it had been broken before. The cop continued, “It might be a false alarm. Everything checks out.”
They began to walk along the side walk, paying attention to anything unusual. Other squad cars came and assisted them. Finally, Greyson decided to call it a night. The sun was starting to rise as birds began to chirp, serenading the arrival of the morning’s dawn.
“Okay fellas, I’m headed in for the day,” Greyson said straining his eyes as he looked at his watch in the dim light.
“Thank God,” Stephens mumbled out of earshot as he turned, making his way back to the car. That was when they heard it.
Blocka! Blocka! Blocka!
An explosion of shots rang out shattering the quiet of the early morning hours. Some of the cops, including Stephens scrambled for cover. Greyson’s experience told him that the muffled sounds had to be coming from inside of one of the townhouse apartments up the street. He unsheathed his weapon and took off in the direction of the shots. He would not be expecting what greeted him in apartment 107.
* * *
“Everybody on the fuckin’ floor, NOW!” The short gunman ordered. Zeus was already on the floor, panting and moaning in bad shape. Just that fast a large puddle of dark red blood had started to form and soiled the otherwise spotless, beige carpet. There was a hole in his chest the size of a softball. He was going into shock as he clutched at the deep hole in his chest. The blood ran through his fingers and down his hands. He groaned as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
My man was losing consciousness.
My first and only love was dying right before my eyes.
“Oh God.” My eyes blurred with tears.
I needed to get the gun out of my purse, but I was frozen. The tall gunman was standing over me as I obeyed his command to lie on the floor. Slowly, I got down on my knees full of hopelessness and despair. I hesitated as long as I could and willed myself to go for the gun on the floor in the purse next to me. Then suddenly Buff went irate at seeing his brother lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. He lashed out as he screamed. A large vein protruded from his forehead as venom filled his eyes.
“Take the muhfuckin’ money and leave! There is over a hundred thousand dollars in the duffle bag! Don’t let my brother die over this bullshit!”
Just as the short masked gunman tore a piece of duct tape to tie Buff’s hands behind his back, he stopped, walked over and peered inside the duffle bag.
“Bingo!” He yelled as he kept the rifle leveled at us.
The taller gunman turned and pointed his gun at Zeus. “We ain’t got all fucking day! Tell us where you got the rest of the money stashed, or I’m gonna push this nigga’s wig back all over the floor.” He put his foot on Zeus’s neck prepared to shoot him at close range.
“We don’t keep no money here! That’s all of it!”
Zeus raised his head off the floor. He gurgled blood and winced in pain. His loyalty to his brother was minted in stone. Even in the throes of death’s door he was still a gangsta.
“Oh God,” Peaches whispered. She lay next to me shaking so badly that I could feel her entire body trembling. For a moment both gunmen had their heads turned to focus on Buff and Zeus. I knew that it was either then or never. My hand was shaking when I reached inside the purse. As I fumbled around for the gun time was ticking like a bomb in my head. My heart was ricocheting against my ribs and my pulse was racing. I took the gun out and opened fire. I hit the short gunman in the head dropping him instantly. When I fired and missed the other gunman, he turned and fired at me at point blank range. I closed my eyes and squeezed the nine that jerked in my hand.
Click! Nothing happened. Did the gun jam? Before I knew it Buff was off the floor like a linebacker and plowed into the gunman. They collided like Rams and fell on the glass coffee table that shattered in a thunderous clap. Peaches screamed. They struggled and the guy managed to roll over on top of Buff and punched him in the face. Instantly Buff was dazed, but he was still fighting. To my horror the gunman somehow managed to reach in the small of his back to take out a .38 Caliber snub nose. He shot once and the bullet hit the carpet next to Buff’s head as they wrestled over the gun. Peaches got up and took off running. I raised my gun to shoot the dude in the back,
Click! Click!
The damn gun was out of bullets. Desperately I looked for something, anything to strike the gunman with. I saw a long jagged piece of broken glass that was about a foot long and shaped like an ice pick. I picked it up, rushed over and swung it in rage.
“Muthufucka!” I swung so hard that I slipped and fell. The sharp glass went straight into his eye socket. Blood squirted like a geyser as he reached for his face and howled like a wounded animal. He fell over clasping his eye with the large piece of glass sticking out. He kicked and screamed as the blood continued to squirt. It was like a scene out of a horror movie. I turned my attention back to Zeus as Buff scurried from under him, grabbed the gun, sat on the guy’s chest and began to pistol whip him unmercifully.
I crawled across broken glass, slippery blood, and a
dead man with his eyes open. It was the short gunman that I had shot in the head. I crawled across a battle field of emotions and torn lives as I reached Zeus. His eyes were closed and I tried not to look at the gaping hole in his chest as the blood flowed. I almost chocked on my tears as I cradled him in my arms. At that moment I would have given him my life, my very last breath.
“Baby please get up! Please get up…” I shook him.
The entire time Buff was beating the other assailant to a pulp.
Suddenly Zeus opened his eyes. His lips moved with no words and then he let out a raspy sound.
“Don’t… cry…”
“Oh… God… you’re alive.” I cried harder.
“They’re… the dudes… that tried to jack … us…” Zeus muttered. I didn’t comprehend, but Buff did.
Whack! He struck the gunman on the bridge of his nose. From across the room I heard the bone break.
“Nigga, who sent you!?” Buff was in rage, covered in blood like someone had doused him with red paint.
I found a phone next to me on the table. With my hands trembling I dialed 911 and then felt Zeus gasp, take a deep breath and close his eyes. His body suddenly went limp.
“Ohh, God, Ooh God, noo!” I wailed.
Whack!
“Fuck nigga, I ain’t gone ask you no muthfuckin’ mo! Who fucking sent you?” Buff placed the gun to the gunman’s head and cocked it.
The sound resonated from across the room as I heard the emergency operator say “911 emergency.”
“I need an ambulance, hurry please.”
“It was… Money… man. Please don’t kill me… He paid us to rob the dope houses… He and the chick are working together…” The gunman blurted out.
“Money?” What chick?” Buff asked with his face screwed up in disbelief.
Suddenly Peaches entered the room. I’d never forget the expression on her face. There was so much anger, blind rage and something else I couldn’t recognize as she aimed the gun.
“It’s…” the gunman was about to say something, but he didn’t finish.
Peaches walked over to him, aimed the .380 that Buff had given her and pulled the trigger.
POW!
The gunman’s neck snapped back. His leg twitched as his body flinched and then instantly he went motionless.
“Ma’am, was that a gunshot I just heard?” The operator asked.
All of a sudden there was a loud pounding on the door.
“POLICE! Open up!”
Forbidden Fruit
By Nika Michelle
Chapter 1
Diablo looked at me as he passed his boy the last ten bricks of coke.
“I hate having you around this,” he said.
Normally he wouldn’t have the product in our crib, but a last minute change of plans had made him do the unusual.
“Go bake these up,” he told Adonnis, also known as Ace.
The first time I saw him I was fourteen. At the time I was in and out of juvenile detention centers. The case worker the system had assigned to me said that I was just “acting out” for attention. She also claimed that I didn’t know how to interact with people on a social level because my mother and father were unfit.
My parents were hardly deserving of the title. My mom was strung out on crack before I was six years old. She never cared one way or another whether me and my little sister Amaya had a bite to eat or clothes on our backs. My father was sentenced to life in prison because of other warrants and the murder of his live in girlfriend. He had caught her and his best friend in the bed that they shared and snapped. He had beat his best friend down with a bat and put him in a coma for months. He was also charged with attempted murder. All of that went down when I was twelve.
By the time I was thirteen I was skipping school to run drugs for my father’s workers. My father was a drug dealer and that’s how my mom ended up strung out. She started out with a little weed here and there, which stemmed into coke, and later graduated to crack.
People say that weed is a gateway drug, but to me that’s bullshit. I think it’s all about greed. One high isn’t strong enough and the person wants more, so they try something stronger. Personally, weed is enough for me. That X and shit just was not my cup of tea. After my dad got locked up my mom became worse. She was still in love with him although they weren’t together and the thought of him being away from her for life drove her over the edge.
In order to take care of myself and my little sister, I had to take on the responsibility early. To get food and clothes for us, I stole whatever I could. My other hustle was watching out for my father’s old workers and running drugs for them. They promised my dad that they would take care of me, but he had no idea that they were training me to become a criminal.
The first time I got arrested, I was caught stealing at Saks. I was only thirteen and I‘d snatched up a few Gucci bags at Lenox Square Mall. Another hustle I’d picked up was selling stolen merchandise. Back then they didn’t have the expensive bags secured like they do now. Because I was a minor, I was ordered to spend time with a foster family after doing thirty days in “juvie”.
My sister was taken away from my mom and we were separated for about eight months before I saw her again. My foster parents were only in it for the money, so I was still in the streets. My sticky fingers got me caught up about two more times, but I wasn’t punished to the point of rehabilitation. I was released two days before my fourteenth birthday. DFACS sent me and Amaya to live with our cousin Vernice who was thirty six years old and had a daughter about my age. That’s where the story begins.
* * *
Because my mother was also a foster child and my father’s people were mostly in the streets, we didn’t have anybody but Vernice. Although Vernice had a two bedroom house and a decent job, she was not strict on me and her daughter Princess. I thought I was bad, but Princess was worse. She’d never been to “juvie”, but she had her share of issues.
We would sneak out at night and hang out in Gladstone Projects. Vernice would be laid up with her boyfriend David, so she wasn’t concerned with me and Princess. I met Ablo the day after my birthday. Me and Princess had crawled out of the window of the bedroom that we shared with Maya.
“C’mon bitch,” Princess laughed as I carefully slid the window down. I didn’t want to wake Maya up.
“I’m comin’,” I whispered.
We ran down the street and then we relaxed. We were away from the house so we were straight.
“Were you scared when you were in “juvie”? She asked. We hadn’t really talked about my time in “juvie”.
“Nope, you know I ain’t ‘fraid ‘a shit,” I said nonchalantly.
“Yeah, I know.”
See, Princess was no angel. As a matter-of-fact I was still a virgin and she’d already had sex with four boys. I’d been in trouble and she hadn’t, but she was still bad in other ways. She just hadn’t gotten caught up yet. Her problem was that she couldn’t stay away from the streets, and the street life. I was given the streets, so it was nothing to me. We walked up the block and mad people were out. I know that we were young, but we starved for the night life. I had no idea that my life would change that night. If I had known what was to come I would’ve stayed clear of that street corner.
We were on the block laughing with a few of the high school boys that Princess knew. With me not being from that side of the city, I didn’t really know anybody. It was the middle of June and school started in August. I would be starting the eighth grade because I’d flunked out due to bad behavior, and cutting school. Princess was fifteen and would be going to the tenth grade. She was on point with school, until I came along.
We puffed on some bomb ass weed that had us geeking hard when a black Explorer rolled up screeching tires.
“There go Ablo,” Princess said looking mesmerized.
“Who’s Ablo?” I asked.
“Only the hardest muthafucka in Atlanta,” she said giving me the blunt.
By this time the crowd was breaking up.
“We out man,” one of the boys we were kicking it with said.
“Yeah, ya’ll can smoke the rest of that,” the shortest one added.
They walked off and I looked at Princess with a confused look on my face. “What just happened?” I asked.
“This is Ablo’s block. Most of these niggas work for him. They s’posed to be about business, so when they see Ablo they get to work.”
“Oh, so Ablo’s the big man then,” I smiled.
“Oh, nol Yanna. Ablo’s ‘bout nineteen. He’s too old for you,” Princess warned me with a frown on her face.
“I didn’t say nothin’ girl. Damn, why you lookin’ at me like that?”
“ ‘Cause Yanna. We grew up together and I know you. We might not’ve been around each other for the past year or so, but I know how your mind works,” she said seriously.
“Oh, c’mon Princess. You’re the one that’s fuckin’ and shit, not me.”
“So, ain’t none of ‘em been over eighteen,” she said like it was nothing. I knew that she was lying.
“Yo’ Ace! C’mere nigga!” Ablo yelled out of the car window. It was ’93 and Explorers were the shit back then. It had chrome rims and a personalized license plate that read 1Blo. I was dying to see his face.
A short, cute, light-skinned dude ran to Ablo’s side of the SUV. I watched as a bronze colored arm extended out of the vehicle and handed who I assumed to be Ace, a package. I couldn’t help but notice the black cobra tattooed on his arm. It symbolized exactly what the persona of Diablo stood for. He was the well respected, venomous king of the streets.
I was only fourteen at the time, but I was very mature looking for my age. I was often mistaken to be a few years older. I was hoping that this Ablo would be easily fooled. My young hormones were raging and Princess’s numerous stories of her sexual escapades had me wondering.
Princess looked at me and shook her head.
Finally Mr. Ablo stepped out of the car and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. If I had never seen fine before I saw it right then. His smooth bronze skin and naturally curly hair made me suddenly feel weak all over. He stood about 5’11 and weighed about 195 lbs. He was toned and I could tell that he was cut up with his white wife beater on. His strong jaw line and big clear light brown eyes with the long lashes were all so perfect. I’d never felt so attracted to the opposite sex before. The fact that he was so much older than me gave me a challenge. He was standing about two feet from me and we locked eyes for a split second. When he licked his sexy, thick, brown lips I sighed.
