by Paige Green
“I don’t know, they should be calling any minute now,” he said, glancing at his platinum Rolex.
They were seated on Deion’s couch, watching television, and waiting for the right time to deliver the money, in which they had an hour left. Mercedes was dressed in a pair of black sweat pants, black Chuck Taylor sneakers, and a black pullover hoodie. Her hair was tied into a tight ponytail and she had not one speck of makeup. Deion was also dressed in all black. He had on a black sweat suit, black Timberland boots, and an all-black Pittsburgh Pirates snap-back cap. He looked at Mercedes, admiring her dark, smooth skin, feisty attitude, and even her grind. Taking her by the hand, he softly said, “I’m sorry you and Corrine had to go through the things y’all went through. I can tell by looking in your eyes that you’ve been through a lot. But I want to tell you now, I really want to get to know my younger sister all over again, and I promise you I won’t ever neglect her again.”
“That was random; where did that come from?”
“Nowhere; I’m sitting here thinking, that’s all. I wanted you to know that.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I hope Corrine accepts you back into her life. She’s been through a lot and, like me, she wants to be happy.”
“Yeah, I want both of you to be happy, too. I swear when we get out of this predicament, I’m going to be the best brother I can possibly be,” he vowed.
“Let me ask you something?” Mercedes said, taking her hands out of his and turning her body so she was completely facing him.
“Shoot.”
“Your twin, did he really rape Corrine?”
Caught off-guard by the question, Deion gasped. He looked down for a moment, raised his head, and nodded. “Yeah, when we were much younger.”
“And you knew this? Why didn’t you help her?”
“I don’t know; I really couldn’t do anything to help.”
“What do you mean, you couldn’t do anything to help? That’s your sister, you’re sup—”
The loud ringing of Deion’s cell phone prevented Mercedes from uttering another word. Seeing it was a private call, he eagerly flipped his cell phone open.
“Hello?”
“I hope you’re ready?” Jewels said.
“Yeah, I got your money. Where is my sister?” Deion said, clenching his jaw.
Removing the cell phone from his ear, Jewels placed the phone to Corrine’s mouth and she moaned. He slightly smiled before placing the phone back to his ear. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah. What did you do to her? If you hurt her, I swear—”
“I don’t think it’s too smart for you to be making threats to me right now, don’t you agree? I want you to deliver the money, now. You have less than an hour,” Jewels said before hanging up.
“Okay, he’s ready. Let’s go,” Deion said to Mercedes, jumping to his feet and grabbing his car keys off the table.
Less than thirty minutes later, they arrived in Homewood. It was a little after midnight and the streets were unusually quiet, not one soul walking the lonely street. When they reached their destination, he turned to Mercedes. “Okay, I want you to stay in here and be on lookout while I deliver this money.”
“What if they come after me? I don’t have any protection on me!” Mercedes said, worried.
Reaching into his glove compartment, Deion pulled out a .357 and handed it to her. She held the metal in her hands, ready to bust a move on anyone.
“You sure you’ll be okay with that? Do you know how to use it?”
“Yeah, I got this, don’t worry about me. Just be careful, I got your back,” Mercedes assured him.
Deion nodded and got out, gripping his .9mm. Carrying the heavy duffle bag filled with the ransom money, he looked around, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. When he reached the abandoned apartment, as instructed, he walked in and threw the bag onto the floor. Taking a deep breath, he walked back out and made his way back toward his car.
“He did it,” Brooke said.
He and Jewels had kept Corrine hostage in another abandoned building across the street so they could see whether or not Deion. Brooke had been watching from a window the entire time.
“I’ll be right back, I’m going to go get it,” Brooke said as he made his way to the door.
“I’ll be watching. Hurry up and get back,” Jewels said.
When Brooke entered the abandoned apartment where Deion had dropped the money off, he didn’t notice the BMW following him.
Deion, who’d never left the area, watched through his tinted windows. When he’d seen Brooke leaving the building and going across the street to the abandoned apartment, he instantly knew who he was.
Putting his car in PARK, he hopped back out of the car and made his way toward Brooke inside the building.
“So, y’all bitch-ass niggas really thought y’all was really going to get away with this?” Deion said, pointing his .9mm at Brooke.
Caught off-guard, Brooke dropped the duffle bag filled with money, reached for his waistband, but cursed himself, realizing he’d left his gun in the room with Jewels and Corrine.
“Fuck you, bitch-ass nigga!” Brooke spat. “If you going to kill me, you might as well do it now.”
“Any last words?”
“That crackheaded bitch’s pussy was bomb!” Brooke laughed.
Gripped with anger, Deion wasted no time pulling the trigger, earning his first body. With not one ounce of regret, he watched as Brooke’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground.
Jewels heard the gunshots coming from the abandoned building and looked out of the window.
“Oh shit! What the fuck?” he yelled, pulling out his Desert Eagle.
He glanced at Corrine who sat bound to a chair, beaten beyond recognition.
She sat there in a daze, praying to God to end her life. She knew death was knocking at her door and she embraced it, thinking it was better than suffering.
Standing, Jewels headed for the door. Before walking out of the dirty room, he cocked his gun and pulled the trigger, pumping one hot bullet into her chest.
Deion walked out of the front door of the apartment and saw a big, beastly figure running toward him. Without a second thought, he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
“Where the fuck is Corrine?” he asked, continuing to shoot.
Jewels ducked and dodged every bullet as he also started to let off rounds.
“That bitch dead, nigga!” Jewels laughed as he continued to shoot, which only infuriated Deion.
Blinded by rage, he ran out of the abandoned building in a blur. Before Jewels could grasp the whole situation, Deion charged at him, knocking him to the ground while his gun skidded several inches away from them. Now on top of Jewels, he drew his hand back and delivered a hard blow to his face. He continued to hit him in his face until Jewels grabbed hold of his wrists and bent them backward. Wincing, he then started to get off of Jewels, to retrieve his gun, but Jewels stopped him. The two men began to tussle for the gun, kicking and punching at each other. Struggling to get the upper hand, Deion tried his best to use his body weight on the oversized Jewels, but it was to no avail.
“Yeah, nigga!” Jewels growled when we finally got hold of the gun.
Like the man he was, Deion looked Jewels in the eyes, willing to accept his fate. But before Jewels even had the chance to pull the trigger, Mercedes walked up behind him, placed her .357 to his head, and pulled the trigger.
Deion watched as Jewels stared him in the eyes as he lifelessly fell to the ground. Breathing heavily, they rushed to the apartment where they’d seen Brooke and Jewels leave from.
They crashed through the front door and the stench of death overpowered them. In the dark living room, Deion saw the silhouette of a girl sitting in a chair.
He exhaled, mentally preparing himself for the worst. Seeing a flashlight on the floor, he picked it up and turned it on.
“Oh, God, what did they do to you?” he cried, dropping to the floor.
&
nbsp; The sight of his younger sister, bound, naked, beaten, and with a bullet lodged in her chest, was too much for him to take. Crying, Mercedes untied the ropes from around Corrine’s chest, and her limp body fell into her arms. Deion got to his feet, looking at the young girl he hadn’t seen in eight years.
Gently picking her up, he carried her out and placed her in the back of his car. Still crying, Mercedes climbed in with her, running her fingers through her hair. Pulling off, Deion headed to the nearest hospital.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Deion and Mercedes sat next to Corrine’s hospital bed. She’d been in a coma for a month and they were patiently waiting for her to wake up.
Mercedes was dressed in a pair of straight-leg blue jean pants, a hot-pink blouse, and a pair of hot-pink leather boots. Her wavy hair hung down her back and gold eye shadow accentuated her dark, flawless skin. Dressed in his usual jogging suit, Deion was asleep, snoring softly. Crossing her legs, Mercedes slowly folded her arms under her breasts and looked at Corrine. After going through many major surgeries for over a month, Mercedes and the rest of them were praying for her health to increase.
“Hey, girl!” Raynisha walked into the hospital room smiling, dressed in her police uniform and carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Hey, Ray. You bought these for her? These are beautiful!” Mercedes smiled before giving her a welcoming hug.
“Yeah, girl. Wow, he’s knocked clean out.” Raynisha laughed, nodding at Deion.
Mercedes took the bouquet out of her hands before putting it on a nearby table where the rest of the “Get Well Soon” balloons and other flowers were located. Staring down at Corrine, Mercedes smiled. Turning back to face Raynisha, Mercedes took a seat next to her.
“I’m sorry I haven’t really been home lately. I’ve been in the library studying to pass my GED classes and visiting her, so things have been a little hectic lately,” Mercedes said.
“Girl, it’s fine. Don’t stress it. I’m glad that you’re out of those streets, living with me, and back in school. Look at you, Mercedes. You’re glowing! What did I tell you?”
“Let go and let God,” they said in unison, bursting into a soft laughter.
“Raynisha. I can’t believe it, either. I wish Tessa was here to see me now. But I know she’s looking down at me and smiling right about now. And once Corrine gets out of here, I swear I’ll do everything in my power to keep her off the streets and off of those drugs.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll make sure she stays off those streets, too. Even if it takes all the strength in my body, this little girl will make it. I’ve already taken action and been appointed her legal guardian, so don’t worry about her. You need to worry about yourself now, Mercedes. Have you thought about what you want to do with your life whenever you get your GED?”
“Yes, I want to go to school to be a sonogram technician.”
“Good, and like I tell you all the time, anything is possible if you put your mind to it.”
Mercedes nodded in agreement and turned when Corrine’s doctor, Dr. Kennedy, walked into the room.
His bifocal glasses rested on the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head and looked at a chart that he held in his hands. He stared at Corrine, then back at the chart.
“Hello, is there a problem, doctor?” Raynisha asked, frowning.
“Yes, Ms. Williams, we have received the urine test back for Corrine Johnson, and it appears . . .”
“What? Appears what?”
“Ms. Johnson is four weeks’ pregnant.”
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER . . .
Corrine weakly stepped out of the black BMW with a cane in her hand. She took baby steps, hesitantly walking toward the Pennsylvania Rehabilitation Center. Feeling hands on her, she stopped.
“Go ahead, baby girl. We’re right by your side,” Deion assured her with a warm smile.
He stood beside her, gently holding on to her frail arm and guiding her toward her future. Mercedes, who stood on the side of her, and Raynisha, who stood behind her, nodded their heads in agreement.
Corrine, who was dressed in a blue jean outfit that hung loosely on her body, flashed a fragile smile before taking a deep breath, clutched her small, pregnant stomach and continued to walk, but this time with much more confidence. When she finally reached the inside of the rehabilitation center and all three of them let go of her, she turned around, shielded her slanted eyes that now held hope in them, and waved goodbye to the only family she had left in this world.
Deion, now teary-eyed, ran and wrapped his strong, masculine arms around her petite frame, rocking her back and forth. She melted in his arms as he stroked her hair, telling her how much he loved her. Stepping back, he looked his little sister in the eyes. “I love you, baby girl. And I’m sorry for everything.”
Remaining silent and giving him a reassuring smile, Corrine nodded before turning around and walking away.
Deion, Mercedes, and Raynisha waved her goodbye for the time being, hoping she’d walked into the center a girl and finally walk out a young woman.
An hour later, Deion and Mercedes parted ways with Raynisha and they pulled up in front of an apartment in Northview. The sun was still shining and everyone in the neighborhood was out, enjoying the hot day. Dressed in an all-black cocktail dress and black stiletto pumps, Mercedes sat and stared at the house.
“So, this is where he stays at now?”
“Yeah, do you want me to handle this?”
Shaking her head, she reached into her leather pocketbook and pulled out her small .357. Turning around to face him, she said, “No, I want to do this by myself. I have to.”
Getting out of the car, she walked toward the apartment with confidence, her head held high with each step.
Walking onto the porch, to her surprise, she found the front door unlocked. Turning the doorknob, she clutched her gun in her hand and looked around the living room with caution.
She shook her head in disgust and continued to stare around the usual smelly apartment. When she walked upstairs and found a man slumped over on a dirty mattress, she flipped him over.
Day’onne, who was in his usual drunken state of mind and looked like he was in good need of a wash, mumbled to himself and looked confused.
Mercedes turned her nose up and pointed her gun at him. “Big, bad-ass Day’onne, look at you now.”
Day’onne, who was too much under the influence, continued to mumble under his breath and tried to stand, but quickly stumbled.
Cocking her gun and pointing it at his head, Mercedes took a deep breath, placing her hand on the trigger. Squinting her eyes, she said, “This is for Corrine.”
Pulling the trigger, she watched as Day’onne’s lifeless body limply fell to the dirty floor.
Exhaling, she walked out of the dirty room and house. Refusing to look back, she was finally happy to know she had closed that chapter of her life.
Shay sat in her red Beemer, clutching her bulging stomach and looking through the windshield. She watched in envy as a beautiful, dark-skinned girl walked out of Day’onne’s apartment, hopped into Deion’s BMW and pulled off.
Getting out of the car, she walked on the porch and opened the door. A foul stench smacked her against her puffy cheeks, causing her to place her hand over her nose. She made her way up the stairs and into the first bedroom, not prepared for what she was about to see.
She held her swollen stomach as she made it out of the room as fast as she could. Walking into the living room, she doubled over and vomited. When she regained her composure, she walked back into the room and stared down at a lifeless Day’onne.
Turning, she walked out of the apartment and got back in her car. Always devious, she smiled mischievously, already plotting.
IF YOU ENJOYED “FAMILY OVER EVERYTHING,” PLEASE BE SURE TO CHECK OUT
LITTLE WHITE LIES
BY COLE RILEY
COMING SOON FROM STREBOR BOOKS
1 / HALLUCINATIONS
FALL
2006
The word around the neighborhood was that I was the good one, the levelheaded, ambitious boy who would make good one day. And never shame the family. I tried to be normal, the quiet nerd, the potential breadwinner. However, that was not to be the case.
My father said I reminded him of Doctor J, Elgin Baylor, Oscar Robertson, and even Michael Jordan when I found the proper stroke, the proper dribble, the proper pass. We used to shoot hoops in the backyard, and later on a tattered basketball court with tufts of grass peeking through the buckled asphalt. School was something I hated. I was never any good with numbers, grammar, or science. But put a basketball in my hands and I was an artist.
A rowdy crowd of supporters turned out to see us topple Cardozo by 12 points, allowing our team to capture a share of the division title. The Cardozo squad was playing without their top sophomore forward, Akim Lawrence, who was nursing a head cold. Still, the red-hot guards almost snatched the victory away in the third quarter with four three-pointers.
“Melvin, this win would mean a lot for our franchise and our school,” Ron Faulk, our coach, said to me. “You’ve shown leadership throughout our entire season and you cannot let us down now. Not now. They’re underestimating you and what you bring to our team. Kick some butt, son.”
I thought back about how we beat Bishop Ford, Jefferson and even Nazareth. These dudes were a snap for us. I started rebounding and blocking shots, going out and putting my hand in the faces of the slick guards. Coach Faulk called our opposition Heckle and Jeckle, after the TV cartoon crows. Were they magpies?
Our 6-11 center, Houston Crown, stood in our huddle, grabbing me by the arm and speaking in his deep baritone voice. “They’re talking a lot of smack out there. They say we’re punks, we’re chumps. Everybody thinks they can beat us. I take this personal and I know you guys do too.”
“Shit, we cannot let them come to our house and talk a lot of shit,” Emory Lewis, our point guard said. “We can’t let them disrespect us and take the win. We’ve got to turn it up. We got to put them in their place. Smash-mouth ball, guys, smash-mouth ball.”
