by T. Styles
Could this be true?
Or was it all a lie?
Missing her friend again, Cutie stumbled over to the window and opened the blinds. She was inspired to visit the house but it was raining. “Mooney, can you help me? Please.” She said to herself.
It wasn’t long before it dawned on her that even if she wanted to visit she didn’t have a dime to her name. And once there how would she get inside? There were no keys in the box and her plan sounded daunting.
Cutie decided not to think about it at home because it was time to move so she got dressed. She wanted to be brave like Farah, her hero. Once ready she slid on her jacket, grabbed Mooney’s address book, the journal and opened her bedroom door.
Moving toward the exit she turned momentarily to be sure her foster mother wasn’t coming. Surprisingly they weren’t in the living room so she figured it was the best time to leave.
Opening the front door, she rushed outside and stumbled down the steps. The rain wasn’t as powerful as it had been but it was still serious. Water washed off the sidewalks and into the streets causing some cars to hydroplane.
And yet at the moment nothing was more important than seeing Mooney’s house and being close to her presence. With the diary, the address book and newspaper clippings clutched against her body she was about to hitchhike when a familiar truck pulled alongside her.
It was the man her foster mother was fucking earlier that day.
He rolled down the window to his Ford Explorer. “Where you going, girl?”
Cutie pretended she didn’t hear him but the man was relentless. Recalling the weird way he gazed at her in the living room made her feel unsafe.
“I asked a question. Don’t make me ask again.” He maneuvered the car as his head stuck out of the window while yelling at her. “Where you going?”
Cutie stopped and noticed that suddenly rain was pouring down harder. At this rate she would be too wet to do anything but go home. “Going to see my other family.
“Your mama know that?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the address?” She rattled it off and he said, “Well get inside. I’ll take you there.”
Cutie sat in the passenger seat looking at the stranger every so often. Figuring it would be best to be nice she whispered, “Thank you, sir. For taking me and all.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be out here alone. It’s too dangerous for a little girl.” He scratched his balls and placed his hand on the steering wheel. “Not to mention night will be falling soon.”
“Well thanks again, sir,” she said under her breath.
He frowned. “Who live at this address anyway?”
“My auntie,” she lied as he drove with one hand on the steering wheel why the other texted. “I haven’t seen her in awhile and miss her that’s all.”
“Well you’re lucky I came when I did.”
Not feeling like talking she opened the diary and immersed herself into the pages. And just like that she was pulled back into Farah’s world.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AUDIO
“Answer The Phone.”
Audio sped down the highway on the way to Platinum Lofts to inform his family about the news he uncovered. He knew where The Fold rested their heads and it was time to attack. The lead was crucial.
He would’ve gotten to his family earlier but disposing a body was not as easy as it appeared on television. First he had to find a quiet place for Tomi, which led him to one of the few heavily wooded areas in Maryland.
Using the cover of night, it took hours to properly conceal her body within the soft dirt. By the time he was done his cell phone battery was dead and he couldn’t make the call to alert his family.
Once Audio arrived at the building he dapped Cheyenne and Yo who guarded the front door. “Damn, man, what happened to your clothes?” Cheyenne asked him. Cheyenne lifted his cap and scratched his scalp; his brown skin was potted and scarred.
Audio glanced down at his soiled jeans and t-shirt. “It’s a long story. My fam upstairs?” He pointed at the door.
“Nope, they bounced earlier.”
“Fuck,” Audio said looking around. “You sure?”
“Positive,” Yo interjected. He was a big man with bulging eyes and a serious weed habit. “They left about fifteen minutes ago so you just missed them.” He glanced at his watch.
“Aight, thanks man.” He dapped them both and dodged up the steps, avoiding the elevators all together.
When he arrived inside the apartment he was bummed to learn that they were correct. His family left the building. Based on the time he figured he had about an hour before the meeting with the Cottons. Rushing, he showered, jumped into clean gear and headed out. Before leaving he charged his phone and had just enough power to reach out to his brothers.
The first unanswered call went to Major and the second to Killa. When he prepared to call Grant he realized he didn’t know his number by heart. Since they’d been family he never called him personally because Della and Killa always did. So he decided to worry about that later and hit it to the scene.
After purchasing a car charger he was on the highway and things were tense. Nervousness made it difficult for him to think straight and he needed help. “Knox, if you up there, man, don’t let nothing happen to the fam. Please. I want to put this to an end.”
On the road, he dodged in and out of traffic until he was struck with a moment of clarity. For some reason he recalled every digit of Grant’s phone number.
Why did he recall it so clearly?
Whether it was Knox or not he appreciated the extra help.
With the information, he pulled the cell phone off the charger and dialed Grant’s number. It rang a little longer than Killa’s but still no answer. He thought all was lost until he looked ahead and saw the large grey RV Grant owned driving up the street. Tossing the phone down he pressed the gas pedal as hard as he could to catch up with him.
“If you not gonna slow down answer the phone, Grant! Fuck!” He punched the steering wheel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
KILLA
“I Told You A Million Times.”
Grant drove his RV briskly up the highway, headed toward the destination to snatch Farah. At one point he was level headed about the Cotton ordeal but after Killa murdered his brother all he wanted was to bury the broad, grieve Judge’s death and murder Audio in secret.
“When we get down there I’ll do most of the talking,” Grant said to Killa who was in the passenger seat. Major sat behind him in the back. “I don’t want them moving before we have a chance to make the call, close in and snatch the bitch.”
“You acting like we stupid niggas,” Major said. “We went over the details a million times. As long as your people do what need be done on their end we good on the rest. Believe that.”
Grant shook his head. “When did it become my people? We all blood related remember?”
“I ain’t gonna lie, after the shit with Killa you haven’t been moving right,” Major said. “Energy not matching. Making me think after this Cotton shit you cutting us off.”
“So now you talking for your brother, Major?” He looked over at Killa. “He’s sitting right here and he’s a grown man. Let him speak for himself.”
“I made a mistake, fam,” Killa said. “Told you a million times but you not hearing me.”
Grant’s cell phone rang and he welcome the distraction. Exposing his anger may have alerted them that he had ominous plans for Audio. Although the cell was in his lap he secretly kept it on silent. It was an attempt to avoid Audio who he was concerned wanted in on the operation. But the last thing he needed was his hotheaded behavior ruining shit. Fortunately for him this caller was important. “What’s up?” Grant said into the phone.
“We’re here and we have our sights on the girl,” Tanoyka said. “What you want us to do?”
“Nothing,” Grant responded excitedly. “We’re going through with the plan to shut the par
k down. But keep eyes on them at all times.” He paused. “How does the girl look? Is it Farah?”
“That’s just it, they haven’t said she’s Farah or not. When we yelled across the park and asked if she was coming they wanted to know where you all were. Said she won’t walk over here until you promise personally to end the war if she gives herself up.”
He nodded. “What’s the scene like?”
“About four niggas in red and black and the girl wearing a red hood who I think is Farah.” She paused. “But I’m going to be honest. Something doesn’t feel right.”
“We’ll be fine,” Grant persisted. “Trust me. We gonna light that park up.”
He hung up and placed the cell on his lap. “They there,” he told his cousins. “Shit working out smoothly…just like I—”
When Killa noticed Grant’s phone ringing again he said, “Audio hitting you up. Answer that shit.”
Grant turned the phone off. “Nah, man. Can’t do that.”
Killa frowned. “Fuck you mean you can’t do that?” He paused. “I been waiting on his call all day. The little nigga been out all night and I want to make sure he’s aight.”
“I’m gonna be honest with ya’ll, Audio is a liability these days. Now I promised your mother I would leave him out of future matters and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Don’t forget, it was Aunt Della who called me out here so her word is solid.”
“But we all paying you,” Major added.
“Not to mention something may be wrong,” Killa persisted. “What if he has some information for us?”
“Everything is wrong,” Grant corrected him. “Especially when it comes to that kid. Now I’m moving—” Grant’s eyes widened as he looked in his rearview mirror.
“What now?” Killa asked, sensing his fear. He turned around to see for himself but the RV didn’t have windows in his line of vision.
“It’s your brother.” Grant gripped the steering wheel. “He’s following us.”
“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Major added. “Audio wouldn’t be doing all this unless something is up. Call him back to see what he knows.”
Before he could place the call two vehicles pulled alongside the RV. The car closest to the driver’s side was filled with women with espresso colored skin. One of them waved at Grant and played with what looked like a large two-handed remote control, all with a smile on her face. “What’s up with this bitch?” Grant said out loud.
Killa extended his head to see over Grant but he couldn’t get a good look. “I don’t know, but I’m getting bad vibes. Maybe you should pass them.”
“Where the fuck I’m gonna go?” He pointed ahead. “I got cars in front and on every side.” Suddenly Grant didn’t think things were going as planned after all.
“Well something ain’t right,” Major said removing his two nine millis that were already loaded. “The next time you can get out of the way do it.”
Grant continued to advance up the road when suddenly he heard a small thud on top of the RV. “What the fuck was—”
His question was halted when a small explosion blew off the roof of the vehicle. The woman holding the remote controller was operating a quad copter with a bomb attached. Grant lost control and careened to the right and slammed into a ditch, barely missing two cars.
Once the RV crashed eight women withdrew from the surrounding vehicles and fired into Grant’s ride simultaneously. The RV was too large for the women to know what progress was being made, in terms of bloodshed, so the plan was to load and reload until they were bullet free.
Commuters driving alongside the road made phone calls to the police but the women didn’t care. The mission was accepted and they wanted the Bakers out of DC whether by plane, bus, car or body bag.
They were about to reload when suddenly one of the female shooters was struck from behind. “I been hit!” She yelled holding her arm, blood oozing everywhere.
They were trying to see where the fire was coming from but couldn’t identify the gunman. “Get in the car, I’m gonna follow!” One of the ladies yelled.
The injured woman limped toward the vehicle.
The others were going to continue to bust until another one received a bullet to the thigh. “Who the fuck is that?” she screamed.
If the scene weren’t so anxious they would’ve spotted Audio ducking behind cars for cover. Instead they piled into their rides and tried to get away while Audio, no longer hiding, fired at them in plain view. It took a lot of gas power and scraping alongside of other cars but eventually they were able to escape from the chaotic scene.
Leaving Audio alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
FARAH
“You Hurt Me More.”
Farah was tied to a chair with Bones standing in front of her. The expression on his face alternated from anger to depression as he grappled with why the women in his life never appreciated him. “You lied to me this entire time, Farah.”
“I never lied to you,” she cried. “But what you’re doing now is wrong. How can you expect me to love you if you’re treating me this way? Look at me! You got me tied up like a dog and yet you claim to love me.”
“Did you steal from me, Farah? Did you take my money out of this house?”
Farah moved around uneasily. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Did you take my fucking money or not?” He yelled.
She was about to lie when she was struck over the top of the head. The pressure was excruciating and suddenly she felt nauseous. Before he hit her she didn’t know he had a weapon. Had she known she would’ve considered her response a little more seriously. But it was too late and as a result she was struck with a horsewhip, blood pouring from her scalp.
“DID YOU TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY?”
Warm tears rolled down her cheeks and soothed the fresh cut on her skin. “Yes, I did and I’m sorry, Bones.”
He plopped into his chair and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Why, Farah?”
She looked up at him. “To get him out of jail.”
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “So you spent my dough, to get another nigga out of prison? Knowing that the last person I wanted free was him?”
“If I give you an answer you’ll hit me. If I don’t you’ll hit me too. So do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”
He peered into her eyes, took a deep breath and stood up. It was time to hang her a little. Walking behind her he untied the ropes holding her arms. Once free she struck him as hard as she could in the face and made a run for the steps. Being tied for hours she was weak and he was able to catch her, yanking her to the floor by the back of her hair.
For trying to escape he hammered her with body blows until he was tired.
****
It was midnight when Zashay crept down the steps. She’d been following Bones all day, hiding in the corners of the mansion to see what he was up to. Wanting to know what was going on in the basement she eventually sucked his dick until he fell into a coma like sleep. It always did the trick and only then did she retreat down the stairs.
Flipping the light on she was shocked to find Farah tied up on a chair alone. Her face was bloodied and bruised and she was unrecognizable. She covered her mouth in shock. Zashay knew he could be violent but never with this kind of abuse.
“Why would he do this?” Zashay said to herself. “You should’ve gotten away when you could.”
Farah opened her left eye and gazed up at her. When her neck felt heavy she dropped her head and remained silent.
“I know you hate me, Farah and I despised you too but things are different now.” She paused. “I finally under—”
“You hurt me more than he did, Zashay. You hurt me because I was starting to care about you. But now I know everything you said to me was a lie.”
“It’s not that way. I thought he loved me and—”
“Fuck you, Z!” She paused. “Just go upstairs and leave me to die! I don’t want t
o hear anything you have to say.”
Zashay wiped away the creeping tears from her face. Did she love her more than she realized? “I’m going to let you go.”
Farah sat up straight, pain ripping through every area of her body. “What about Bones? He’ll kill you.”
She crossed her arms over her body and rubbed briskly. “Fuck Bones,” She smiled half-heartedly. “Right?”
****
Shadow was infuriated as he examined Farah’s face. Part of him wanted to snatch another Baker off the street but the other part hated himself for accusing Farah of letting him down. Before she was assaulted Mia posed the question of what if something was wrong and he disregarded her statement, only to learn big sis was right.
To make matters worse she was claiming that a ‘stranger’ was responsible when Shadow believed in his heart it was a Baker. He never suspected Bones for an instant.
“I’m sick of this shit,” Shadow yelled. “I should go blow Platinum Lofts up right now!”
Mia, who was crying and hysterical, was too beside herself to speak on the issue. Farah was virtually unrecognizable and it ripped at her heart.
“Shadow, I said they weren’t involved.” She pointed at her face. “And this looks worse than it feels. But I need all of this to stop because I can’t take it anymore.” She exhaled. “And I’m here to tell you to let it go.”
“Farah, we shot up the Baker RV.” He paused. “Me and our cousins while you were away. So if you—”
Farah grabbed his hand. “What…what you mean shot up the Baker RV?” He remained silent. “Shadow, what are you saying?”
