Terrell groaned, clearly not feeling like company at the moment. However, with something this serious, he already knew how it would look if he made himself unavailable.
“Come thru,” Terrell told Brandon. “I got a chick over here, so I don’t usually let otha niggas come over when I’m chillin’ like that and shit, but for this occasion, shit I will. Come thru.”
“Aight then,” Brandon said, then hung up the phone.
Brandon turned the car onto Capital and headed toward Haughville. “We gon’ figure out who did this shit,” he said. “Ain’t no niggas about to take out my boy like that if I can help it.”
“We goin’ over to Terrell’s?” Juan asked.
Brandon nodded. “Yeah?”
“You got that heat on you, don’t you?” Juan asked, referring to the Brandon’s gun.
Brandon nodded. “Nigga, you know I stay with that shit,” he said. “It’s too dangerous out here to not be. For all we fuckin’ know, whoever this is that shot up Marcus’ place and basically tried to kill him, could come after us next or some shit. You just never fuckin’ know.”
Juan shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “You right about that. And you know what they say: better you than me.”
***
Terrell was an older dude, in his early thirties, who was known for staying in the strip club every weekend. Not only was he popular and pretty well liked with everyone that he knew, this dude was also known for having all the chicks. It was not uncommon for niggas to have to wait outside, in their cars or standing on the curb, for Terrell to get done handling his business. He lived in a little house on King Street, one of the roughest streets in a neighborhood on the near west side of Indianapolis called Haughville. Some of the hardest niggas in the city lived over here, and it had always been that way.
Brandon turned down the narrow street, looking closely for a house on his right with a red brick porch and white siding to let him know that he was there. Once he saw the house, he pulled into a spot not too far down from Terrell’s walkway and called.
“Wassup?” Terrell answered. “You outside?”
“Yeah,” Brandon said.
“Aight,” Terrell said. “Come on up.”
Brandon hung up the phone took of his seatbelt.
“Dude, I think he got some hoe over,” Brandon said.
Juan chuckled. “So,” he said, sarcastically. “That don’t do me to good.”
“I know, man,” Brandon said. “He be havin’ some hoes over there that I wouldn’t mind smashin’ my damn self.”
“I ain’t touchin’ them,” Juan said. “You already know that Terrell will fuck your ass up if you fuck around with his.”
“Nigga, what you mean?” Brandon said. “Hell yeah, I know. I just look and do not touch. Best believe that ain’t no problem I want to have. I can only imagine what the fuck that nigga do over some shit like that.”
Brandon and Juan climbed out of Brandon’s Chevy Impala, headed across the street, and up Terrell’s walkway. Moments after Brandon knocked on the screen door, the front door open. A chick unlocked the screen door. “Come on in,” she said, grabbing her chest. “It’s cold as fuck out there.”
Brandon and Juan hurried inside and closed the door behind them. There, in Terrell’s dimly lit front room, they watched as a bad redbone, naked as the day she was born, hurried back to Terrell’s bedroom.
“Just gimme a minute, aight?” Terrell announced from his room. The redbone hurried into his bedroom and shut the door while Brandon and Juan sat down on the sectional.
For the next several minutes, the sounds of slurping and slobbering seeped through the walls.
“Damn,” Brandon said quietly, smiling. “That bitch got that throat.”
“Sure sound like it, don’t it?” Juan said, snickering.
The two of them sat there while they could hear the redbone who had opened the door sucking Terrell’s dick from his bedroom, which was next to the living room. Soon enough, Terrell was groaning and saying that he was about to cum. Once he did, he could be heard telling the chick to “swallow Daddy’s nutt.”
Brandon chuckled then Juan, as they both shook their heads. It was crazy to the both of them how Terrell only kept the baddest of the bad around him. And he could get them to do anything that he wanted. That was how they knew that that nigga had money. Bitches flocked to him and would come practically limping out of his bedroom. Brandon and Juan waited to see the same chick come out of Terrell’s bedroom. Instead, the door swung open and Terrell stepped out into the short bedroom hallway, pulling his pants up to his waist. He stepped into the living room.
“Wassup?” he said, shaking Brandon’s hand then Juan. “Had to handle some business real quick, get this nut off.”
“You coo, nigga,” Juan said.
“Yeah, nigga,” Brandon said. “We ain’t trippin?”
“Y’all wanna smoke?” Terrell asked.
Brandon and Juan would normally jump at the chance to smoke, especially with Terrell. Terrell only ever had the best of the best smoke. However, today was a little different. Neither of them were there just for social purposes. Front and center at both of their minds was finding out who could be trying to kill their boy. Respectfully, they both declined. Terrell nodded, understanding and being able to see in their face that today was just one of them days. He plopped down into a seat at the other end of the couch.
“So Marcus’ place got shot up?” Terrell asked. “When that shit happened?”
“Man,” Brandon said. “Like earlier today, maybe in the middle of the day or some shit.”
“Damn,” Terrell said. “In the middle of the fuckin’ day.”
Juan nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “We just now comin’ from the hospital and shit.”
“Word?” Terrell said. “Sorry to hear that. Where that nigga get hit?”
“In his shoulder,” Brandon answered. “Lost a lot of blood and shit. His girl was over when it all happened, but she ain’t get hit, luckily. She pretty shook up over it.”
“Bet she is,” Terrell said. “That’s the way that shit be, though. That’s part of the reason it’s hard for a real nigga to find a real chick.”
“I feel you on that,” Brandon said. “So, anyway, that’s why we decided to hit you up. We try’na figure out who the fuck did this shit. Who the fuck would try to take out Marcus like that? Who the fuck would do some shit like this?”
Terrell looked into both Juan and Brandon’s eyes then away. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off of a small table at the other end of the couch and lit one.
“I guess y’all don’t know, huh?” Terrell said.
Immediately, Brandon and Juan’s attention was peaked. They looked at each other then at Terrell.
“We don’t know what?” Brandon asked.
Terrell was clearly being hesitant. From busting his nut just minutes ago, his body was relaxing while his mind caught back up to the rest of the world. Right now was probably one of the worst times for Brandon and Juan to be coming through. Jalice, the thick redbone in the other room, was incredibly busy sometimes and he really didn’t get a lot of time to spend with her and that deep throat she had. Nonetheless, he knew that what he was going to say needed to be said.
“Y’all boy Marcus is in some deep shit out here,” Terrell said. “I’m surprised that he ain’t tell y’all niggas if he supposed to be your boy like that.”
“Man,” Brandon said. “He was try’na talk to us and shit at the hospital, but you know how that be. People coming and going. Plus, the fuckin’ police came up to see him and shit, you we definitely was gon’ try to be outta sight when they came walkin’ through the door.”
“No doubt,” Terrell said. “That’s prolly for the best. Your boy is in some deep shit over two things really, but both over that trip he made down south for Hakim.”
Brandon looked at his boy Juan. Much like any two people in a long lasting friendship, one could tell what the other was thinking just by looki
ng into their eyes.
“So, what?” Juan asked, wanting to know. “What the fuck happened? Why the fuck would Hakim be after him? He drove down and got the shit and brought it back up just like he was asked to do.”
“Yes and no,” Terrell said. “Last I heard, they lookin’ for his ass because some of the shit was missing.”
“Missing?” Brandon asked, clearly surprised. “What the fuck you mean some of the shit was missing?”
“Fuckin’ missin’, nigga,” Terrell said. “Like he was supposed to go and bring back a certain amount but that amount wasn’t there when Hakim got the car.”
“And now Hakim think that our nigga Marcus stole his shit on the ride back?” Brandon asked.
Terrell nodded, slowly, as he took another hit of his cigarette. “That’s what they say,” he said.
“That’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Juan said. “Why the fuck would Juan take some of Hakim’ shit like that? He know damn well that Hakim ain’t the kind of the nigga you prolly fuck with like that. He know that if he do some shit like that, then yeah, somebody gon’ be after his ass.”
“That was the same thing I was wondering,” Terrell said. “But that ain’t all the hot water your boy in.”
Brandon looked at Terrell, almost in disbelief at what he had just been told. It was hard enough to believe that, let alone to think that there could be more. After a couple moments of silence, Terrell told them.
“Hakim also after that nigga over some chick,” Terrell said.
“Some chick?” Brandon asked.
“Yep,” Terrell said, nodding. “Apparently your boy dipped in some pussy he wasn’t supposed to be in and now that shit gon’ catch up with him.”
“Who?” Juan asked.
Terrell shook his head. “Hakim’s chick,” he answered. “Tweety.”
***
Time seemed to go so slow but so fast while Kayla was up at the hospital with Marcus. Before either of them knew it, his mama Lorna had come back with food. The three of them sat in Marcus’ hospital room, eating friend rice for a Chinese restaurant down the street. Still, there were so many unanswered questions on Kayla’s mind. Sure, she wanted more than anything for Marcus to get back. However, she wanted to hurry up and get to a place where she felt like she could really talk to Marcus without them having to sorry about somebody listening. There was still so much to this story that was not making any sense – so many gaps that could not be overlooked.
Kayla had ignored her phone vibrating again. For the second time, she looked and saw that it was her mother calling. That was all she needed to know to not answer. Anytime her mother was calling back to back like that, it meant that she would want Kayla to come home so she could go lay up with some nigga somewhere. There was no doubt about it in Kayla’s mind. And she was not about to let her mother take her precious time with Marcus away from her, especially not with what all was now going on. She would go home whenever she felt like it and her mother would just have to actually be that – a mother – until that time came.
When they were halfway done eating their shrimp fried rice, the doctor came walking back into Marcus’ hospital room.
“I’d say you were pretty lucky,” the doctor said. “This could have been a lot worse.”
Lorna, letting her son be a man, simply sat over in the corner and did not say a word.
“I know,” Marcus said. “I know.”
“But I’ve got good news for you now, Marcus,” the doctor said and smiled. “At first, which is usual with a gunshot victim, the plan was to keep you overnight. However, with the construction going on at the other location, this location specifically is getting a lot of the overflow. Therefore, hospital administration is pushing us to let patients go home who really do not need immediate care. And you would be one of those patients today.”
Marcus smiled and let out a deep breath. Those were just the words he needed to hear. Hospitals already were not his favorite kind of place to be, let alone actually spending the night in one. For him, it wasn’t even the whole people-die-in-hospitals things. Rather, it was how cold they were and how he could never really get relaxed.
“The surgery is done and went just fine,” the doctor said. “I think the glass, which I read was your patio door, if I’m not mistaken?”
Marcus nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “My patio door.”
“Well, if my memory serves me correctly, with how patio doors are made in residential units nowadays, I’d say it was thick enough to take a lot of the impact off of the bullet off of you,” the doctor said. “That’s why during the operation, the bullet didn’t get all that deep into your shoulder. However, that doesn’t mean that you won’t need some physical rehabilitation. Where the bullet struck was more-so a problem than its actual force. However, if you feel fine, I can let you go home tonight. You will have to make an appointment to see me within a week, however. No exceptions.”
“I understand,” Marcus said.
The doctor smiled at Marcus then he turned to Lorna and Kayla and smiled at them. “Alright, Marcus,” he said. “I will talk to the nurse about how soon we can get you wrapped up and get you outta here. It make take a little while with what else is going on in the hospital tonight. However, I will see what she says and will come back and let you know.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Lorna said.
As the doctor backed out of the room and walked away, Lorna sat her food down on a table next to her and approached her son’s bed.
“So, what you gon’ do?” Lorna asked.
“What you mean?” Marcus said. “What I’mma do about what?”
“I mean, I guess you gon’ have to come stay with me, Marcus,” Lorna said. “From what it sound like, you can’t go back to your apartment so I hope you wasn’t thinking that that was going to happen. You gon’ have to make sure that you talk to your landlord tomorrow or something and figure out what is going to go on over there with that.”
“I know,” Marcus said.
There was a long pause. At first, Lorna wasn’t going to bring it up in from of her son’s girlfriend. However, she had been thinking about how much she liked Kayla and was really getting to know her. She glanced at Kayla then back at her son.
“So, Marcus,” Lorna said. “Who do you think you got after you?”
Lorna already had her own theories on things, but she wanted to hear what Marcus would have to say – to hear his explanation.
“Mama, I don’t know,” Marcus said. “I ain’t think I had nobody after me.”
“Well, somebody is, Marcus,” Lorna said. “They shot up your apartment and almost killed you. Have you thought about if they come back?”
Marcus looked away from his mother, at the hospital window. It looked out at the dark, cold skyline of downtown with cars on the interstate coming around a bend. When he looked back at his mother, his eyes were met with stern, motherly eyes. He knew that she was waiting on an answer and was probably not going to just let the conversation die like he wanted.
“Marcus?” Lorna asked, not liking that her son was ignoring her. “Do whoever these people you don’ got mixed up with know where I live?”
Immediately, Marcus started shaking his head. “I don’t even know why you try’na talk about this,” he said. “Naw they don’t know where you live. That’s why they came and only shot up my place.”
“You know they gon’ try again,” Lorna said. “We gon’ have to do something with you?”
“Do something with me?” Marcus asked. “What the hell you talkin’ bout, Mama?”
Lorna tapped Marcus’ wrist and tightened her lips. “Watch your mouth,” she warned. “And what I’m sayin’ is that you prolly gon’ really have to lay low or something until…”
“Until what?” Marcus asked, clearly in his feelings.
“Until the police or whoever figure out what the fuck is going on,” Lorna said. “Until maybe you ain’t gotta worry about whoever this is coming after you and trying to blow your fuckin’ hea
d off. Think about it, son.”
“I ain’t gon let somebody just run me up out of the city like that,” Marcus said.
Immediately, Lorna’s head started shaking. She backed away from her son’s bed. “I swear,” she said softly to herself before raising her voice just a little. “Marcus, I told you where that life you chose leads to. I know I specifically remember telling you that shit and you did not want to listen. I told you to carry your ass on downtown and get enrolled in school or something and instead you chose to hang out with them no good niggas you call friends. And now look what done happen.”
“Mama,” Marcus said. “You ain’t try’na say that you think that Brandon and Juan had somethin’ to do with this, do you?”
Lorna snapped her neck. “Yep,” she said, confidently. “You already know that that is exactly what I am trying to say. You know how I feel about them couple of friends of yours. Something about them just don’t seem right.”
Listening to Miss Lorna go on about her distrust of Marcus’ friends Brandon and Juan, Kayla wanted to stand up so bad and say something. She was not necessarily all that fond of Brandon and Juan, either. However, after finding out earlier that a car rolled by her place and asked Latrell and Linell if Marcus was there, told her that the people looking for Marcus could not have been Brandon and Juan. Kayla knew this because of when she had gotten back up to the hospital in the evening and learned that Brandon and Juan had yet to leave in all that time.
“Mama,” Marcus said, getting angry. “You trippin’. I know my boys. It was not them, so ain’t no point in us even talkin’ bout this. I know it wasn’t them.”
“And how is that, Marcus?” Lorna asked. “Huh? How is that that you would just oh so surely know that it wasn’t them who did this shit to you? According to what you said, and to what Kayla said, it was just the two of you at your apartment when it got shot up. They wasn’t there, right?”
“Right,” Marcus said, really having to bite his tongue from saying more. He was well aware that his mother had never really cared for Brandon or Juan. To Marcus, she found that to be so sad considering that Brandon and Juan had practically been like brothers to him – like the brothers that he never had.
Who Can I Trust: A Naptown Hood Drama (Trust Issues Book 1) Page 11
