Luxe

by Ashley Antoinette

  * * *

  “I know it ain’t UCLA, but you can stay here as long as you need to, a’ight, B?” Noah said as he carried her box of belongings into the one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was his, and anything that he had she was welcome to.

  “Thank you. I swear I won’t be here long. As soon as I’m able to I’m going to head west. I just need a place to rest my head for a while,” she said as she limped into the apartment. It had taken everything in her to get up the stairs, but she silently welcomed the pain. It reminded her that she was alive. “They deferred my scholarship until second semester, so I have until January to get myself together. I don’t have any money, Noah. I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered.

  He set down her things and turned to look at her. “You’re good, B. You don’t need nothing. If you had money I wouldn’t take it. I got you. On everything you’re good. I’ve got a little bit of something moving on the block. Money isn’t an issue,” he said.

  “You what?” she asked, heartbreak lacing her tone as she stared at him in shock. “Noah, what are you doing? I thought we talked about college, about getting away from the bullshit.”

  “Everybody don’t got a way out, Bleu,” he responded desolately. “I’m not like you. I’m not good at the book thing. I graduated four years ago, B. That school shit is over for me. I’ll let you do the college thing while I take over these streets.”

  “But we had plans; we talked about college for hours … I thought you were just waiting for me to finish high school—”

  He cut her off before she could get worked up. “You talked, Bleu. I listened to your dreams. Your plans. That was never in the cards for me, so let’s drop it. That school shit. That’s your thing. Don’t worry about me. You just worry about getting better.”

  She fell silent, because there was no point in arguing with Noah. Once his mind was set that was it. Her heart was broken for him, however. She told herself that she would make it happen for the both of them … go off to school, get on, and come back for him. He was her best friend and had gotten her through so many hard days. There was no way she was leaving him behind to get sucked in by the game. There were only two ways out: prison or death. She feared those destinies and knew that he deserved more than the bad hand he would eventually receive.

  “Come on, B. Let’s get you in bed and order some food. You been on that liquid shit for weeks. You need to get your weight up. You looking like skin and bones,” he said.

  “Ha.” She smirked as she climbed into his bed.

  “Only reason you’re not on the couch is because you’re fucked up,” he said with a wink.

  “You better stick a pillow between us and get on the other side. Ain’t no telling what kind of miles that couch got on it,” she said jokingly. She winced and she gritted her teeth as a sudden shock of pain erupted through her. Laughter was like an internal earthquake and Noah immediately noticed her discomfort. He grabbed the prescription bottle out of his pocket and poured two painkillers out into the palm of his hand. He passed them to her and then disappeared for a few minutes before coming back with water. She swallowed them and then leaned back against the mountain of pillows as an awkward silence filled the room.

  “Nah, take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch. I’ll be out most nights anyway. Just rest. I’ve got to make a few runs. I’ll try not to be long. If you need me, text me,” he said.

  She nodded and then watched him depart. When she heard the front door close, she exhaled. It was the first time since waking up that she had been alone, and it gave her too much time to think. She was trapped in a world that she was supposed to be three thousand miles away from.

  3

  Noah flipped his hood over his head to shield himself from the falling rain as he stepped outside. Stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie, he made his way to his car. He needed some air. Bleu had made plans for his life that he had never intended to fulfill. He wasn’t a schoolboy. All he knew was the struggle, and he had plans to hustle his way to the top. They each had dreams, but they were drastically different. He had his sights set on taking over the streets and with Bleu recovering in his home he had to take care of her. She was another mouth to feed and his nickel-and-dime hand-over-fist sells weren’t enough for the both of them. If she was going to depend on him while she recovered, he didn’t want her to want for anything. She was his best friend. He would give her the world, but first he had to get it.

  Their bond had been cemented by a decade of telling each other everything. A part of him was happy that she was now forced to stick around a little longer. He loved her more than anyone else in his life. The older they got, the more beautiful she became, and the more his feelings crossed the fine line that led to something more. He would never speak of it, however. The life that Bleu imagined in her head left no room for dope boys or street kingdoms. She wanted the white picket fence. That was the reason why she wanted to run so far away from the hood. He didn’t blame her. She had lived the hard-knock way. As soon as she had announced her plans to go away to college, Larry had rented out her bedroom. He wouldn’t even give it back to her after she was shot. She still had to get out, which was the reason why Noah had opened up his small, humble abode to her. He would hold her down as long as she was willing to stick around, but he knew that his moments with her were short-lived. His hope was to make enough money so that she would choose to stay home, in Flint, with him, where she belonged. He wasn’t naïve, though. Bleu was the type of girl who deserved a big-city life. If he held her back she would grow resentful, so he would just have to settle with the time they had left. As soon as she was better, he would have to kiss the only girl he had ever loved good-bye. The thought alone caused a dull ache to spread through his chest. Hopping in his ’85 Cutlass, he started the raggedy car and pulled away from Black Wall Street, the infamous projects that he called home.

  * * *

  Noah walked into the smoky trap house; instantly the smell of weed invaded his nose, lifting him slightly as he took a seat at the table next to Keon. Keon, a local kingpin in the making, dabbled in heroin. While the rest of the city was making it snow with cocaine, Keon had carved out his own little niche and was getting money while building a small empire for himself. Noah wanted in and had been getting hit with small amounts on consignment. He needed product, however. Keon had him on some small-change shit. Noah was ready for a come-up and Keon could smell the thirst coming off the young wolf from a mile away.

  “What up, bro?” Keon asked as he focused on filling the vials in front of him. He trusted no one and still bottled up his own product himself. He didn’t need the cook-up spots or the naked women with doctors’ masks. He was his own factory. He had it under control. It may have taken him longer to get the job done, but he knew he wouldn’t steal from himself. “Hit this,” he said as he extended a Kush-filled blunt.

  “What up, K?” Noah greeted as he shook his head and waved his hand, declining. He pulled a small knot out of his pocket and put it on the table. “I know it ain’t much, but I want in. Don’t play me with this little nigga shit. That’s five thousand dollars. I need to flip it ten times over. I’m not trying to be a worker, my nigga. I don’t want no consignment and I’m not trying to move your work. I’ll get my own spot so I’m not taking your custos, but I’m ready to build my own,” Noah stated.

  “Nigga you in high school what you know about building your own?” Keon said mockingly. Noah knew he was young, but he was also hungry and had the tenacity of a man twice his age.

  “I pump more of this shit for you than you do for yourself, bro. You either bring me all the way in or I’m out,” Noah proposed with a straight face. Keon, known for his gunplay, was silent as he absorbed the young buck’s words. Noah knew that his ultimatum could create hostility and the small .45 that he gripped in his lap ensured that he had the advantage in case Keon wanted to pop off. Noah had never used it, but he wasn’t afraid to and would body Keon without a second thought
if he felt threatened. There was a tense silence between them, and Noah held his breath until he saw the corners of Keon’s mouth melt away into a smirk.

  “You young niggas want it all,” he said with a bit of displeasure. “A’ight, we can work something out, but if you want in you going to have to put up half of the buy-in. This little five thousand dollars ain’t going to do it,” Keon said as he tossed the small knot back to Noah. “You trying to come sit at my table you gon’ at least have to put up twenty. If you trying to make some paper, I’ve got a job for you. A little something fell across my lap. I’ll pass it to you and take a small fee off the top.”

  “What’s the move?” Noah inquired. He was interested. It was only a matter of time before he had to get his hands dirty. He would never survive in a game this treacherous if he didn’t. He needed to make a name for himself … to earn his place. He needed to put in work to gain respect. Nothing would be given; it was all earned through blood. Even the most papered-up hustler could be clowned if he hadn’t earned his stripes. The time was now and Noah wasn’t turning down any opportunity to cement himself in the game.

  “My little niggas knocked over a liquor store a few weeks ago. The bitch who work there got popped, but she still breathing. They need that problem taken care of and they’re willing to pay big money to whoever makes it happen, you feel me? They got an address and everything. She’s a witness and they need her to disappear,” Keon stated.

  Noah’s breath caught in his throat as his stomach went hollow at the mention of the job. He kept a poker face as he replied, “How much?” He needed to know the price that was placed on Bleu’s head.

  “Twenty thousand dollars,” Keon said. “If you in it with me, that’s ten racks each. I was gonna do it dolo, but another pair of eyes is never a bad idea. I’m in that bitch tonight if you with it,” Keon said. Noah wasn’t a fool. He knew that the bag must have been double that. Keon was taking his fee off the top for simply plugging the job.

  “Murder ain’t my game,” Noah replied.

  “Yeah, well, somebody gonna make that bread. It may as well be us,” Keon replied.

  Noah’s temperature rose as he thought of the danger Bleu was in. Bleu’s stepfather knew that she had moved in with Noah, and he knew that her parents would give her up without a second thought. Noah was trapped between a rock and a hard place as he thought of the bounty. Keon was known for his ruthlessness, and if Noah had to choose between riding for him and protecting Bleu it was a no-brainer.

  BOOM! BOOM!

  Noah put two bullets in Keon’s belly. Keon fell back out of the cheap chair as he looked up in astonishment while gripping his bleeding torso.

  “You shot me?” he gasped in disbelief as Noah stood abruptly. He never knew how badly he would shake when he pulled the trigger. He was just as fear filled as Keon as they both realized the weight behind Noah’s actions. “You muthafucka!” Keon growled as he reached to his waistline to draw his pistol.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  Noah hit Keon with three more shots, one landing in the middle of his forehead, laying him to rest permanently. Noah’s eyes shot frantically around the room as he put his hands to the sides of his head in distress. The contents of his stomach erupted as he rushed to the kitchen sink.

  “Arghhh!” he spewed as he breathed frantically while gripping the sides of the sink. “Fuck! Fuck!”

  The smell of feces filled the air from Keon having released his bowels when the last breath left his body. The smell was disgusting and Noah wiped his mouth with his hand, feeling the walls closing in on him. It was the reaction that most had after catching their first body. An extreme queasiness filled his gut as he tried to counter the urge to vomit with deep breaths. Murder would get easier with experience, but today he was an amateur and fear urged him on as he grabbed the bleach from beneath the kitchen sink. He poured it down the drain, cleaning out his own vomit, and attempted to wipe down the things he had touched in the house before making his departure.

  Rushing from room to room, he searched through the entire house until he stumbled upon two shoe boxes, tucked away in the top of a closet. Popping the tops, he realized what he had found. A half a brick of heroin sat neatly inside one of them, and the other was boxful of money. His heart raced and his eyes widened as he realized he had found Keon’s stash. Noah scooped up both boxes and took one last look at Keon before stepping over his body and walking calmly out of the house. In case any prying eyes were watching, he didn’t want to be the nigga rushing from the scene of the crime. He was grateful for the dark of night as he flipped his hood over his head and made his way to his car. He pulled off with mixed emotions. He was remorseful, feeling like scum for pulling the trigger, but he knew that when he weighed Keon against Bleu she would always win. Riding for her was a no-brainer. It was a sin Noah had committed on her behalf in order to keep her safe, but he knew that Keon’s death wouldn’t stop the bounty. Another shooter would simply step up to the plate. Noah couldn’t gun down an entire city; instead he would have to keep Bleu hidden until he could get her on her way to Cali. It was the only way to keep her safe. Now their good-bye was inevitable, but he would rather care for her her from afar and know that she was safe than selfishly put her at risk. Love was a bitch and so was karma; he only hoped this murder wouldn’t come back on him in the worst way.

  4

  The incessant banging on the door woke Bleu out of her sleep, but as she opened her eyes it felt as if she were living in a dreamworld. The medication that she was on did little to numb her pain. The wound that had been left behind was so gruesome that she was afraid to look down at it. Despite the fact that it didn’t work, she was still grateful for the medication because it made her sleep. As long as she was unconscious, she couldn’t feel the pain, but someone was interrupting that, dragging her into a wakeful state and forcing her to feel. She rolled over onto her side and put her weight on her elbows as she breathed deeply, gritting her teeth before she pushed herself up off the bed. The room seemed to tilt, making her feel unsteady on her feet.

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  “Wait a minute!” she shouted in frustration as she placed her hands along the wall. She was floating. After doubling her prescription she was kite high. It felt like she was walking on clouds as her feet sank into the plush carpet. By the time she made it to the front door of the apartment she was panting and had worked up a slight sweat. It was as if she had just run a marathon. Her body needed rest. She was overdoing it, trying to force herself to get better before she actually was. If money hadn’t been a factor she would still be recovering in the secure wings of a hospital. She looked out of the peephole and frowned in confusion.

  “Larry?” she asked. She stepped back and shook her head, thinking that perhaps she was higher than she thought.

  “Bleu, it’s me. Open the door,” he said.

  She stood on her tiptoes and peered through the peephole again, confused. He hadn’t called her that since the night he had raped her, and hearing it now instantly brought tears to her eyes. She then turned her head and looked across the room to the clock. It’s close to midnight; what is he doing here? she thought.

  She opened the door slightly, giving him just enough room to see her eyes.

  “Larry? What are you—”

  Before the question could leave her mouth Larry fell, as a silenced bullet crashed through his temple. She felt a forceful push as someone rammed his shoulder against the door. She jumped back as the door’s security lock at the top stopped the door from opening completely. She backpedaled slightly, tripping over her own feet as she cursed herself for taking a double dose of medicine. She was incapacitated physically and mentally. As she stumbled to make her way back into Noah’s bedroom, the chain gave way to the force on the other side. Pure panic invaded her as she saw the goon rush into the house. She tried to run, but her legs were so heavy that she clumsily fell to the floor, rocking her entire world when she made impact.

  She roared as agony
took over her body. Bleu scrambled to stand but knew that she had no wins in her current state.

  “Keep your ass down there, bitch!” the intruder barked as he leveled her with a sharp kick to the abdomen.

  She yelled out, completely broken, as her entire body quaked in torment. She had barely survived the gunshot wound. This attack would surely kill her. The pain alone would send her to her maker. It was like an earthquake, splitting her in two as the pain radiated through her entire body. She was too vulnerable to defend herself. She couldn’t run or fight back and she curled into a fetal ball, trying to shield herself from the blows.

  The man towered over her and flipped her over onto her back, causing their eyes to meet. “Any last words, bitch, before I send you to your maker?”

  She nodded, frantic, as tears built in her eyes. She opened her mouth and replied, “You’ll beat me there.”

  A look of confusion crossed the goon’s face.

  The bullet that Noah sent through the back of his skull ended him, and his body dropped to the floor. Deadweight. If Noah had shown up even a minute later … the thought alone made him shudder.

  “B,” Noah whispered as he rushed to pick Bleu up from the floor. She crumbled like the fragile girl she was, her tears free-flowing as he cradled her in his arms. He picked her up with urgency and rushed her to his room.

  “Lock the door, Bleu. Don’t come out until I tell you to, you understand?” he asked.

  The look in his eye scared her, but she nodded her head in obedience. “Larry … he shot him … he’s … he’s … dead,” she cried out of shock more than sympathy. She had wished death on him for years and, finally, someone had come to serve Larry’s karma.

  “Fuck Larry. He brought that nigga here, Bleu. Don’t cry for him,” Noah said before disappearing down the hall and closing the door behind him.