I squint to see who he’s looking at.
“Right there. There he goes,” Fowler says, pointing.
I make out the fleeing figure. “Is that who I think it is?” I squint harder. “Terrell Carver.”
Fowler smiles. “Hawkins was right. Damn her.” He reaches for his door.
“Wait.” I grab his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going after him.” He goes for the door again.
My grip tightens as I point out the growing mob. “They are not going to let you just race after one of their leaders when it’s clear that our asses don’t have backup.” I can’t believe that I have to tell him this, but he’s so gung ho to get back on Chief Brown’s good side that his sloppiness might get us both killed.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
We flinch and duck. “What the fuck?”
36
Mack
Shotgun Row
Any minute, I expect the Gangster Disciples’ corner boys to sound off the alarm, but we get damn deep into their territory before the gunfire erupts. Instantly, my heart speeds up, and when the adrenaline kicks in, it’s on and poppin’.
“FORKS UP!” Big Boy shouts, hitting the power button.
The dark tinted windows roll down and everyone props their weapons on the sill, takes aim, and then taps the triggers at the first muthafuckin’ thing we see.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
I hate that I didn’t think to bring earplugs. With all of our weapons being so close together, my eardrums are taking a pounding. It’s hard not to get excited at seeing these muthafuckas running and taking cover. I give no fucks at seeing them, young or old, male or female. As far as I’m concerned, these muthafuckas deserve what’s coming to them.
I get one bitch-ass gangster as he runs out of the house firing two automatic weapons at the same damn time. I cut his ass in half with the simple sweep of my AK. The GD soldier goes down, still screaming but firing up in the air. He’s replaced by another fool who pounds his chest like King Kong, daring our asses to take him out. Nappy-headed boy got to be on that molly because he looks confused when he’s lying on his back and choking on his own blood.
In a way, it’s like we’re all playing in one big-ass video game. The blue flags are our enemies and the random crackheads are zombie extras. The shit is feeling so good to me that I start laughing. Every bullet is for my girls: Dime, Lucifer, and Ta’Shara. I want these muthafuckas to pay for the destruction they did to our family. The only thing that would make this shit sweeter is to get both King Isaac and Python in our crosshairs. If we take those two out, then it’s a wrap. Game over. The Vice Lords win.
Our murder train rolls on. However, when we do corner onto Shotgun, we finally hit some real resistance. Bullets fly everywhere. Romil and I duck to the floorboard.
“Shit!” Big Boy roars.
I climb back up to my seat to see that he’s been hit. But shit doesn’t stop this gangster. He sprays more bullets and talks more shit, as if to prove that these paper gangsters ain’t got shit on him. Inspired, I return to my window with my weapon, determined to hang in the fight for as long as I can.
37
Hydeya
“I can’t believe you’re arresting your own father,” Isaac grumbles with amusement. When he laughs, his entire body quakes.
“I can’t believe you put me in this situation,” I respond, shoving him through the front door. “If I don’t do my job, then it’ll make me no better than Johnson. I can’t have that.”
Isaac smirks. “I’m proud of you. My little princess has integrity.”
“Yeah. I must have inherited it from Mom’s side of the family.” I shove him toward the porch steps.
“All hell. You done arrested King Isaac again,” the neighbor whines. “Damn. He just got home. Can’t you cut a brother some slack?”
“Damn. Does that chick ever mind her own business?” I mumble under my breath.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Isaac mumbles back before addressing his neighbor. “It’s all right, Chantel. We’re just going downtown for a more intimate chat.” He hits her with one of his winsome smiles that gets the young girl twirling her hair around her finger.
I roll my eyes, guessing that daddy dearest here has already fucked his neighbor. No sooner do Isaac and I move off the front porch steps than gunfire snatches our attention.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
“The hell?” I reach for my weapon. Less than a second later, a train of black SUVs corners onto Shotgun Row, tires screeching, while another burst of gunfire erupts.
Chantel screams. Her baby cries.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
“Shit!” Isaac pivots one-eighty and does a full-blown tackle, knocking my ass down. Before I even hit the ground, hot lead whizzes by my head and body. The air is knocked out of my lungs and the back of my head smacks against something hard. The pain is instant and I have trouble making sense of blue sky and white clouds swirling above.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Gangster Disciple soldiers pour out of their houses with their weapons drawn like they’ve been waiting for this moment.
I roll over and attempt to get up.
“Stay down,” Isaac shouts, covering me.
Déjà vu. This is how Drake died, protecting me. “Get off! Get off!” I shout while looking around for my weapon. It was knocked out of my hand and now I can’t find it.
“The key!”
“What?”
“Where is the fucking key? I gotta get out of these handcuffs,” he shouts.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
I shake my head no and search the ground for my weapon.
“Goddamn, Hydeya. This is no time for your bullshit. Give me the key!”
“No!”
A bullet slams into the back of Isaac’s shoulder, spinning him around.
“Dad!” This shit can’t be happening. Not again. “Dad! Dad! Are you all right?” I scramble back to his side, oblivious to my own safety.
He grunts and groans as he crawls around the corner of the house.
I follow, and along the way retrieve my gun from a bush. Unclicking the safety, I return fire along with the other Folk Nation. The murder train mows down a number of people, but their first three vehicles take on heavy return fire. Shattered windshields, punctured bodywork, and still they keep rolling through.
Once my clip is empty, I take cover behind my own car. A fast clip change and then I go right back at it.
A car peels onto Shotgun Row, spitting more gunfire. I take one look and recognize Fowler. How in the hell did he get here so fast? The second I ask the question the answer appears obvious. He followed me. That shit gets my blood boiling—but at the moment, I do appreciate having some backup.
The gunplay takes me back to my military days, and a particular battle where my unit was hemmed in by enemy fire comes to mind. An incredible calmness comes over you when you’re in life-and-death situations. Your thinking gets clearer.
The event doesn’t last long before the train is spinning around at the end of the road, running up on curbs, sideswiping cars—including mine. The initial hit to the car knocks me forward, but it’s not enough to knock me out. But I am at an angle to see more bloodied bodies hit the concrete.
Police sirens fill the air as the glow of the taillights of the last SUV in the murder train disappears from Shotgun Row. Those of us still standing fire at the retreating cars, but we take no more casualties.When it’s all over, everyone does a stunned assessment of the carnage.
“Captain Hawkins,” Officer Hendrix shouts,jumping from Fowler’s car and racing toward me. “Are you all right?”
The bitch is a hell of an actress because she genuinely looks concerned
.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I give her my back before she can reach out and touch me. The sudden screaming cries of mothers, wives, and girlfriends fill up the street as the women pour out of their houses and race to their wounded men.
I stroll back to the side of Momma Peaches’s house where I left Isaac. He sits leaning against the house, his blood visible through his black T-shirt.
As I approach, he smiles and nods. “You handled yourself pretty good out there.”
The compliment actually makes me blush. The complexity of our relationship grows. “How is your shoulder?” I ask.
Isaac grins and shrugs. “I’m sure it’s a scratch.What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger. You should know that by now.”
I nod. “Now that I inherited from your side of the family.”
“Wait,” Hendrix says, staring from my right. “You’re bleeding, Captain.”
“What?” I turn to my right and feel a stinging sensation. I press my fingers to my right temple. When I pull them away they are covered with bright blood. “Damn.” Then I do something I’ve never done: faint.
38
Hydeya
The Med
“I’m fine. How many times do I have to keep telling you that?” I attempt to hop off the doctor’s exam table, but Fowler isn’t hearing it and presses his large hand against my shoulder to prevent my escape.
“How about we let the doctor tell us how fine you are?”
“Oh please.” I roll my eyes. “Angling for me to get a medical leave now? Can you be a little less transparent?”
“Can you be a little less paranoid?” he argues. “Damn. Why is it hard for you to believe that I’m concerned?”
I fold my arms and give him a look. I’m not buying the bullshit he’s peddling.
Fowler tosses up his hands and acts as if I’m the crazy one. “Fine. Hate me if you want, but sooner or later you’re going to realize that we’re on the same team.”
“I doubt that.”
“Okay. Here we go,” Dr. Logan says, entering the room with his nurse trailing behind. “It looks like everything is in order. You suffered a flesh wound, like you thought.”
“See? I told you.” I sneer at Fowler before I hop off the table.
Fowler’s pinched expression looks comical.
Dr. Logan continues. “I do recommend that you engage in less police shooting. You don’t need a doctor to tell you they aren’t helpful for a woman in your condition.”
“My condition?”
The doctor nods and then notices my confusion. “For the baby,” he says, as if that clarifies things.
“Baby? What baby?” He isn’t making sense.
“I’m sorry.” Dr. Logan backs up. “I assumed that you knew that you are expecting.”
Speechless, I stare for a long moment and then decide that I didn’t hear him right. “Can you run that by me again?”
Dr. Logan’s gaze swings between Fowler and me. “I take it that this isn’t good news for you two?”
“Me?” Fowler shakes his head. “Leave me out of it. I’m definitely not the father.”
“I’m . . . pregnant,” I say, letting the words sink in. In my head, I replay the last heartfelt conversation I had with Drake on the matter . . .
“I married you because I wanted to have more sex with you, not less. C’mon. Did you forget that we’re supposed to be starting a family this year? What? Did you change the plans again without consulting me?” Drake asked, hurt.
“No. It’s nothing like that,” I lied. However, the problem with being with someone for so long is that they learn how to read you like a book.
“Aww, Hydeya. Don’t do this.” He sprang up from the bed.
Don’t do what?” I asked defensively. “You know how much this new promotion means to me. And now I have the chief threatening to take it away.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. Maybe you are in over your head.”
“What? I set my coffee aside on the nightstand and climbed out of bed. “What are you saying?”
“Look, Hydeya. I know you love your job. I respect that. But what about me? What about us? I’m supposed to be getting something out of this marriage, too.”
And what? I’m supposed to quit my job and let you pump me full of babies? Is that it? How the fuck is that fair?”
“Why in the hell do you think people get married? We’re supposed to be creating little people who look like us. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m looking forward to being a father. All my friends have two or three of them. Even my parents are asking me when we’re going to make them grandparents, like every other day.”
The more he talked, the more I felt like I’d been cast in a horror movie.
“What?” He caught my expression.
“Nothing.”
“Damn it, Hydeya. Don’t make me feel like the bad guy. We made plans together. We had a plan.”
“Plans change sometimes.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. I just know that I’m not ready to juggle all of that right now. I want to do my job, and I want to do it well. We still have plenty of time for kids.”
Drake clamped his jaw and shook his head.
Guilt rattled through me, but I couldn’t help how I felt. Yet, at the same time, I didn’t want to signal that I wanted to bail on the relationship. I drew a breath and softened my approach as I slid my hands around his neck. “I’m not saying that I’m bailing on the family plan completely. I just want to postpone it for a little while. That’s all.”
“For how long?” he pressed.
“I don’t know. Another year—or two.” Or three.
“A year,” he said, latching on to the lowest number. “You promise?”
“I can’t promise, but—”
“Damn it, Hydeya!” He broke away. “Quit jerking me around.”
“Then you quit being selfish and unreasonable. If the shoe was on the other foot and your career was taking off, I’d understand and adjust our plans.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? What the hell is wrong with my career? The guys and I have booked that audition down at that new club. It’ll be a long-term local gig. I thought that’s what you wanted after our last summer tour.”
“I did. I do. That’s great, but that’s not what I mean. I just . . . ” I sighed. “I don’t want to argue. Not today. I’m stressed out enough as it is. The job. Isaac.”
“Then go,” he said, equally upset. “Go to the funeral. Go babysit King Isaac. That’s what you really want to do anyway.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Be like what? Isn’t that the real reason you want to go to the funeral—to verify whether or not your father is really out of the game?”
He had me on that one.
“One year,” I told him.
Drake stopped pacing. “What?”
“One year from today and I promise that we can start seriously trying for a baby.”
He searched for the truth in my eyes. When he saw that I was on the up-and-up, his smile returned. “Deal.”
“How far along?” I ask.
“I’m not sure,” Dr. Logan says. “You’ll need to get to your ob-gyn and schedule a sonogram. Do you remember the date of your last period?”
I take a deep breath, but draw a blank. “Um, no. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
Dr. Logan nods. “Well. Either way, take it easy and make that appointment with your doctor.”
I nod and exit the room in a trance. A baby. I’m going to have Drake’s baby.
“Well. At least now we know why your mood has been swinging all over the place,” Fowler says, smiling. “You’re about to be a proud new momma.” He slaps me on the back. “Congrats.”
“Go to hell.” I shrug off his dirty touch.
“Hey!”
I spin and jam my finger in the center of his chest. “Don’t hey me. I’m on to you—and your flunky Hendrix.”
&nb
sp; “What the hell are you talking about?” Fowler backs up and then looks around to see if anyone is paying any attention to our conversation.
“Just know that I’m on to you—so you can cut all the bullshit and the phony concern. I’m not here for it.”
“If I were you,” he hisses, “I’d take a moment to calm the fuck down and really reassess what it is you’re talking about.”
“We both know what I’m talking about.” I move in closer and stab him harder with my finger. “I know about the shipment and where you really were the night of the Ruby Cove massacre. Really, you think that you’re going to continue arms dealing under my nose? You must have lost your fucking mind.”
39
Yvette
“If it isn’t the mighty King Isaac,” I say, entering the small hospital room. “Funny seeing you again.”
Isaac takes a long look at me while a slow smile hugs his lips. “Well, if it isn’t Lieutenant Yvette Brown—oops. I’m sorry. It’s Chief Brown these days, isn’t it?”
“You’ve been keeping up with my career. Good to know.”
Isaac tosses back his head and laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself, Chief. I don’t have nearly enough time to diagram all the pig dicks you had to suck to get your brand-new position—but if I had to guess, it was probably a whole train of those muthafuckas. For a bonus guess, I’d say you’re fucking Mayor Wharton.”
“What?”
Isaac’s smile spreads. “Yeah. I’ve seen those secretive smiles y’all be giving each other in those press conferences. Y’all ain’t fooling nobody.”
“Fuck you.” In case he’s hard of hearing I give him the finger, too.
“Ha. Not even with an industrial-strength condom would I ever put my dick anywhere near that pussy—if you can still call it that. Tell me, does that shit still have any walls left to it?”
“You’re not fooling anybody. You’re just dying to find out.” I stretch a flat smile. “You didn’t waste any time jumping back into trouble. Thirty-seven bodies—that’s gotta be enough for them to give you the needle this time.”
Queen Divas Page 17
