Girls From Da Hood 10

by Treasure Hernandez

  “Dis bitch think she got all the sense,” Royce mumbled to himself, pulling over and grabbing his phone.

  He was a little late with it, but eventually, Royce realized that Danielle sent him on that dummy mission the other night to get him out of the way for when she and her people ran up in the club. He really never got a chance to confront her about leaving the hotel party with Kemo that day; so many other things were going on at the time, it had slipped his mind.

  “Answer the phone,” he said, looking out at the heavy traffic passing by his car.

  Danielle wasn’t going to answer anytime soon, and Royce came to that conclusion after she didn’t answer for the third time. Royce hurried up and dialed another number, knowing that the person on the other end of this phone was going to answer. He wasn’t feeling any of what Sanaa was talking about as far as leaving Philly. He’d left Philly once before to move to Atlanta with their dad, but since he’d been back in the city, he remembered how much he loved the streets of Philly. He wasn’t trying to go anywhere, and if he had to go through Danielle to get to Kemo and kill him so that he could live comfortably in the city, then that’s what it was going to be.

  Although he’d been gone for a while, Royce still had a few niggas who went hard. All it took was this one phone call and it was on. Adding a million dollars in funny money to get the job done, Kemo would have more problems on his hands than what he could handle. Always the one to be prepared, he had skimmed some of the funny money here and there. He had enough stacked, and at the moment, he may have another source to get him more.

  “Can I pay for this in cash?” Sanaa asked the clerk at the front desk of Avis.

  “You can pay with cash, but we still need a credit card before you can drive one of our cars off the lot. After you return, we’ll be happy to take cash,” the woman advised.

  Sanaa reached into her bag and pulled out her American Express card. She really wanted to limit her chances of being tracked down by the law, but the sooner her and Joi got out of the city, the better off they would be, or at least that’s what Sanaa was hoping.

  “When you get to Atlanta, you tell my dad that I love him and I miss him,” Sanaa said, walking Joi out to the garage where the Dodge Charger was waiting. “I’ll contact you guys in a couple of weeks with my new numbers.”

  Joi stopped at the driver side door, turned, and faced Sanaa. She wiped a tear that was falling from her eye then reached out for a hug. They both hated this part. Saying good-bye never was easy, especially for people as close as Joi and Sanaa.

  “Girl, drive safe,” Sanaa said, giving Joi a kiss on the check.

  Before Joi could say anything, the sound of tires screeching caught both of their attention. Two all-black SUVs sped into the garage area, heading straight at Sanaa and Joi. Instinctively, Sanaa reached into her bag and wrapped her hand around the .45 automatic she carried. Joi did the same thing, only she gripped a 9 mm.

  Both cars came to a screeching halt right in front of the girls. Men jumped out from both cars with guns drawn. “Get ya fuckin’ hands in the air!” the men yelled as they cautiously approached.

  Sanaa was hesitant to pull her weapon, thinking that it might have been the police. Joi was simply scared shitless from all the guns that were pointed at her. It wasn’t until Sanaa noticed Bread in the midst of the men that she realized they weren’t the cops. By then, it was a little too late.

  Joi took her chances and fired off two shots through her Gucci bag. One bullet struck one of the gunmen in his chest while the other hit the hood of the car. Sanaa whipped out her gun, and squeezed the trigger. The gun didn’t fire because the safety was on.

  Joi was about to let off several more shots, but Bread responded with a single shot that hit Joi in her face.

  Sanaa looked over and watched as Joi’s body fell to the ground. “Joi!” she yelled, running over and dropping down to her knees next to her friend.

  Joi’s whole face was covered in blood. Sanaa was furious at this point. She didn’t care if she died in a gun battle, and it took all but a split second for her to pop the safety off her gun. She clutched it tightly, picked her head up, spun around, and saw nothing but the butt of a shotgun rushing toward her face. It hit her right in her nose between the eyes, knocking her out before she could get a shot off.

  “Let’s go!” Bread shouted, walking back to the truck.

  Two of the men walked over, threw a pillowcase over Sanaa’s head, and carried her unconscious body back to the car.

  Joi was left there to die, while the two cars sped out of the garage with Sanaa, as was ordered by Kemo. He had come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t reap any benefit by only killing her. He had something more sinister on his mind, and if Sanaa didn’t regret playing around with his money by now, she would, once she was taken back to him. Which could possibly be her final destination.

  Chapter 22

  Danielle woke up with the side of her face feeling like it had been caved in. She got out of the bed, walked over to the mirror to see that the whole right side of her face was black and blue and she could also taste dry blood in her mouth from the cut lining her inner cheek. She wanted Kemo’s head on a silver platter for this shit.

  Looking around the room for something she could bust him upside the head with when he came back into the room. Her eyes locked onto a metal bowling pin trophy sitting on the dresser. It had some weight on it, too, and with one right swing of it, Kemo was sure to go out like a light bulb. Clutching it tightly in her hand, she crept up to the bedroom door to get an idea of where in the house he was.

  She cracked the door open slightly. Danielle could hear what sounding like Kemo talking to a couple of his boys downstairs. Now knowing that he wasn’t alone, her immediate plans on splitting his wig open were put on hold. Instead, she closed the door walked back and sat on the bed, contemplating what else she could do. It was impossible for her to leave out of the house without being seen by someone. And at the same time, sitting there waiting to be dealt with by Kemo didn’t sound like a good option either.

  “Where’s my phone, where’s my phone,” Danielle whispered, looking around the room. “Come on,” she mumbled, as she rambled through her purse that was lying on the floor.

  For a minute she thought that Kemo had taken it but he didn’t. She found it and thought about calling the cops, but it was a little premature. Kemo bluffed many of times when it came to hitting her so Danielle wanted to see how it played out. Also she knew that Kemo could be soft when it came to attractive women. He would try to go hard, but always ended up apologizing. If she stayed patient and played like she was forced to do it, maybe just maybe he would believe her.

  Royce pulled into Sanaa’s driveway hoping he could catch her before she left the city. He had to voice his opinion to her about them splitting up, and wanted for Sanaa to reconsider the notion. As soon as he got out of his car his phone started blaring off. He quickly answered it once he saw Danielle’s number pop up on the screen. Not wanting her to hear the anger in his voice, Royce answered the phone as calmly as he could. He could barely hear her as she started whispering into the phone.

  “I need you to come get me. I don’t know what he’s gonna do,” she whispered while looking at a car pull up outside of her window.

  “What are you talking about?” Royce asked.

  “He knows about us. He knows everything. I don’t know what—” Danielle stopped midsentence and almost dropped the phone when Sanaa was being pulled out of the back seat by Bread. Her face was bloody and her clothes were stretched out like she had been roughed up pretty good.

  “Danielle, you gon have to hold up. I’m looking for my sister right now.”

  “She’s here,” Danielle said cutting him off.

  “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

  “I’m not joking. I swear they just pulled up with her.”

  Royce stood there on the porch and looked around. Only one of Sanaa’s cars was in the driveway. He wasted no time k
icking in her front door then ran through the house like a madman, screaming and yelling her name, all while keeping Danielle on the phone.

  “Where da fuck is you at,” he snapped into the receiver.

  Danielle knew that he was good and pissed, just the way she needed him to be. She thought that if it was anybody who could come in and save her, it would be Royce. Sanaa being held captive at the same location was more than enough incentive to get him to move out just a little bit harder. She knew for his family he was about to go nuts.

  “Search warrant!” Detective Butler yelled before kicking in Sleepy’s door. “Get on the ground. Get on the ground.” Sleepy’s address was listed on the business licenses and Butler was hoping that it would be this easy to find Sanaa.

  Sleepy was upstairs but he heard the commands loud and clear. Ariana rolled out of the bed and grabbed her gun from off of the nightstand, cocking it back slightly to make sure it was a bullet in the chamber. The police rushed the stairs with tactical gear on and in their hands were fully automatic submachine guns. It looked like something out of a movie. He took the gun from Ariana and threw it under the bed before they got to his bedroom. His quick thinking saved both his and her life because if they had seen the gun or if Ariana would have started firing, the police would have killed them both.

  “What da fuck is y’all doin’ in my house?” Sleepy screamed from the ground while being place in handcuffs.

  Ariana was also placed in handcuff but was taken out of the room immediately. Detective Butler walked through the crowd of officers, reached down and pulled Sleepy up onto his feet.

  “Where’s ya sista, Sleepy?” Butler asked, sitting him down on the bed. “You can’t hear now. I asked you, where is ya sister?” he asked again after Sleepy didn’t answer him the first time.

  Sleepy chuckled, shaking his head at Butler’s stupidity. “Do you honestly think I would tell you where my sister is so you can put her in jail? You got me all fucked up, cop.”

  Butler’s eyes became bloodshot red. Sanaa wasn’t nowhere to be found and one of the few people who knew where she was at was sitting right in front of his face unwilling to cooperate. It was as if he hit a dead end.

  “You know, when it’s all said and done, I’ma put you, ya brother, and Sanaa in jail for a very long time. One thing I know for sure is that she can’t hide forever,” Butler said then motioned with a head nod for the officers to take Sleepy into custody. As far as he was concerned, Sleepy was an accessory to all of the crimes Sanaa committed. Even if the charges didn’t stick, he was going to jail this evening. He and Ariana.

  Sanaa took blow after blow from Kemo, all the while with her hands bound together behind her back. He was treating her like a man, punching her in the face and kicking her in the stomach while she was on the ground. Even Kemo’s boys couldn’t stand to watch as he continued to punish her small frame.

  “Whoooo, dis shit is like a workout,” Kemo joked flopping down onto the couch. “I give it to you, bitch. You damn sure can take a punch.” He laughed wiping the sweat from his face.

  Sanaa spat large amounts of blood from her mouth and even managed to crack a smile at Kemo. She wanted him to know that there was nothing he could do to faze her.

  “Oh you think dis shit is a game huh? We gon’ see if you feel the same way a couple of hours from now,” Kemo threatened.

  Sanaa hog spit blood on his boots before laughing at him. Kemo laughed; he had to give it to her, she was one helluva chick. Not only was she bad, but the broad had heart.

  Danielle had been watching the last few minutes and couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s enough, Kemo,” she yelled from the top of the steps.

  Since she was now on Kemo’s bad side, her words meant nothing nor held any weight. “Bitch, shut up. Yo’ ass is next,” Kemo yelled back upstairs.

  Danielle ran back into the room and closed the door behind her, thinking that maybe she had mistakenly thought that Kemo didn’t have the heart to stay angry at her or any beautiful women.

  Kemo grabbed a handful of Sanaa’s hair and dragged her body over to the plastic tarp he had laid out. He reached his hand out to Bread for his gun and once Bread gave it to him he jammed the barrel of it into Sanaa’s mouth. “Playtime is over,” he leaned in and told Sanaa.

  He took the safety off then wrapped his finger around the trigger. Sanaa closed her eyes and braced for impact.

  Just when it seemed like Kemo was going to squeeze the trigger, he pulled the gun out of her mouth. “I’m not gonna kill you.” Kemo laughed, tapping Sanaa’s forehead with the gun. “I need my money. After you gimme my bread, then I’ll kill you.”

  Sanaa wasn’t going to tell Kemo where the money was at and she had good reasons not to. First of all, he had killed Joi, which was the worst of all. The second was because she knew that he was going to kill her either way, so if he was going to do it there wouldn’t be any financial gain in it for him.

  Kemo handed Bread the gun back and was about to continue beating Sanaa’s face in until she gave him what he wanted, but then his cell phone started to vibrated on the glass coffee table.

  Detective Butler walked back to the holding cells where Sleepy was, lying down on the bench. He looked super relaxed, using the cheese sandwich they gave him as a pillow. Keeping him in jail on some bullshit charges wasn’t going to get Butler any closer to Sanaa. He’d looked all over the city, had all of his informants’ ears to the street and still he had nothing. It was as if she’d disappeared in the middle of the night.

  “You can’t just hold me here without charging me with anything.”

  “Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m letting you go,” Butler responded. “I think you might wanna change ya mind about accepting my help. Joi was gunned down in an Avis garage earlier today. Your sister was the last person to be seen with her and witnesses only heard shots and then saw two SUVs speeding away once the firing stopped. So it looks like we are not the only people looking for your sister and it seems whoever else doesn’t mind killing to get at her. So you may be safer here than out on them streets.”

  Not recognizing the number that popped up on his screen, Kemo answered the phone with an attitude. “What?” he yelled while walking from the coffee table over to the window.

  When Kemo moved the curtain to the side he was in shock to see Royce standing in front of his car at the end of the driveway. To make matters worse, he noticed that Royce had brought what looked to be some of Philly’s most dangerous men with him. Kimo counted six gunmen placed strategically around his home.

  “Check dis out, homeboy, you got my sista in there wit’ you. Let her go and you can have this,” Royce said, kicking one of the two duffle bags at his feet.

  Kemo snapped his fingers and motioned for Bread to come over by the window. “Aw, man, you got da game fucked up, young’un. Ya sista in too deep,” Kemo spoke, looking over his shoulder at Sanaa lying on the ground.

  “Dis shit ain’t up for negotiation. Come out here, get ya bread, then let my sista go. It’s either that or I’ma wake ya neighbors,” Royce threatened, nodding for his boys to cock their weapons. The heavy artillery the men had ready to let loose got Kemo’s attention quickly.

  “Oh shit dis nigga ain’t playin’,” Kemo said holding the phone down by his side so Royce couldn’t hear him. “What you think, my nigga?” he asked Bread.

  Aside from Kemo and Bread, there were two other men inside of the house with them. They had guns in the home but not as big as the ones Royce’s crew was brazing. Kemo had two options. He could take the money and release Sanaa or he could take his chances in a shootout. The choice for Bread was obvious.

  “Yo, I’m not bitchin’ up, K, but I think we should just let da bitch go and take the money,” Bread advised. “But if you wanna take the other route, you know I’m with you either way.”

  “Nah, nah. We gon’ play it smart,” Kemo said placing the phone back up to his ear. “How much do you got in the bags, nigga?” he asked.


  “It’s two million, half funny money, half real.”

  Kemo’s mind started to race thinking about what he could do with the real money. He had already made plans to split the fake money among Bread and the rest of the crew.

  “How I know you not pulling some funny shit?” he questioned Royce.

  “Look, nigga, you think I’m going to play with my family’s life over some paper I can get again?” Royce responded. Kemo could tell from the sincerity in his voice that Royce wasn’t bullshitting. But just in case he decided to send Bread out there to make sure.

  Slowly opening the front door Bread stepped out on the porch to meet Royce and view the contents of the large duffle bags. Satisfied that Royce did indeed have the cash he promised, Bread stepped back in the house and gave Kemo the nod signaling all was good.

  Kemo walked over to Sanaa. “Well it looks like you live to see another day,” Kemo said as he untied her wrists. He dragged her by her arms over to the door then pushed her out onto the porch. Bread stepped out onto the porch as well holding the AR 223 in both hands.

  Royce quickly grabbed the duffle bags. Neeno and Hasan were right by his side while everybody else kept a watchful eye out. He dropped both bags onto the porch then immediately attended to Sanaa. Seeing her battered face and bloody clothes had him furious. Sanaa was still alive but was injured to the point where she couldn’t really walk. Royce carefully swooped her up into his arms and headed for his car, whispering some words of comfort to his sister as he got her to safety.

  “Do you want your other bitch?” Kemo yelled as he pushed Danielle out the door. “I was just going to kill her anyway, but shit since I’m up a million, I’m feeling generous and why waste such a pretty face?” he joked.