Deep

by C. N. Phillips

  Chapter 10

  “Okay, yes. Please lay new carpet down and just . . . just clean his body up nicely. Make him look as presentable as possible. My daddy didn’t want a closed casket.”

  Rhonnie finished her phone conversation a few days later with the head of their cleaner team, Jacob. She’d worked with his team, of course, in the past but she was sure he was surprised when she called him and gave them the address to her own home the day after the massacre. He didn’t ask many questions, but she heard the pain in his voice as they were discussing arrangements for Quinton’s body. She was sure he heard the grief in hers too; making the arrangements for his body made it all real to her. Jacob told her that there was so much blood that it took two days to get it all up, but they made sure to get his body to the morgue first thing. Quinton was really gone, and soon his home would be a casket not fit for his greatness buried six feet underground.

  Once everything was said and done, Rhonnie, Ahli, and Brayland all came to the same conclusion. Mentally they were all in sync with the fact that they were all out of options. They couldn’t go back to the house simply because the sight of their father sitting dead in the living room, a place that they always came together to spend family time, was engraved in their skulls. It was a place where they once lived, but they could no longer call it home. Home was a place that provided comfort and security; that house had failed to do that. It would be going on the market as soon as they got back from Iowa.

  The plan was simple: once they got to the hit they would get the money and get out. Ahli made contact with one of the guards of the house and let them know that the plan was still on. When asked what had caused the change of heart, she told them simply the love of money. Now heartless, Ahli knew that there was no way that the guards could live. They couldn’t afford to split the money and, if they were just walking them in all willy-nilly, they couldn’t be trusted anyways. The greed went both ways but she figured whoever’s need for the money was greater, that would trump all.

  “I’m sure once they see us they will make plans to pull the okie-doke on us too,” Ahli said, reflecting on how Dot had done them. She leaned over the bar top in her kitchen, looking at Rhonnie, giving her a pep talk. “Especially when they see that Daddy isn’t with us. But that’s okay; we can just let them think that it will just be a walk in the park.”

  “Man, these people are always trying to get over on us!” Rhonnie said, tossing her phone to the side and picking up her father’s pistol. It was the one she planned on using just in case things got out of hand. “Make us do all of the hard work and then pull the wool over our eyes.”

  “Yeah, well, that won’t happen if I’m there,” Brayland said, entering the kitchen carrying the duffle bags of guns and ammunition. “I’ll put a bullet in anybody’s head who even looks at you funny. I guess I gotta be the man of the house now.”

  The room suddenly grew quiet. He thought maybe he’d said the wrong thing and it was too soon to acknowledge the obvious. He, of course, had only known them all for such a short time but in that short time he’d grown closer to them than he’d been with anybody in his life. He used to only put in work because he knew he was getting paid for it; now he was doing it because he wanted to. The least he could do for Quinton was continue to make sure his daughters were safe, which he didn’t mind doing at all. After all, they had taken him in like a stray and made sure he was fed, housed, and clothed. They didn’t have to do that. There were people he’d known for years who never cared about his well-being, people who would have left him in that parking lot to die. They didn’t have to invite them to their dinner table, and Quinton didn’t have to put him in a fly whip. But he did and as a rule of trade he wouldn’t be going anywhere until God made him. The feeling that Ahli gave him was one that he didn’t want to go away from anytime soon, and he felt the need to protect Rhonnie like a kid sister. He stood where he was staring at the two of them making preparations and he accepted the fact that they were the only people in his corner.

  “Good,” Rhonnie finally responded, giving Brayland an approving nod. “I’m sure my dad wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I’ll be right back.”

  She jumped down from the barstool she was sitting on and brushed past him and headed toward the direction of the bedrooms. Brayland waited for her to leave to go around the bar and wrap his muscular arms around Ahli’s waist from behind. Something he noticed about her when he first met her was that she rarely showed any sign of weakness when Rhonnie was around. He brought it up awhile back and she told him simply, “She needs me to be strong. I can’t let her see me weak. I’m her rock.”

  It dawned on him that she was always so busy trying to be strong for everyone around her that she didn’t realize she needed her own rock to lean on. That was something that made him want to stay around even more. He had already explored the depths of her ocean; now times were giving him a reason to intertwine with her soul.

  She allowed him to hug her. At first he felt her tense up, but slowly he felt her relax in his arms. He’d held her all night just like that as well, with his face nestled in her warm neck, and for a few hours time seemed to stand still. When the morning came and she woke up in a fit of screams, he was there to soothe her and wipe away her tears. She was still the same woman he’d met that day on Dot’s block; her heart was just broken.

  “You sure you can handle this?” he asked, kissing the nape of her neck.

  “Yes,” Ahli responded, closing her eyes. She placed her hands on top of his. “I mean, I have to. Especially since we still don’t know who murdered my father. It will be good to leave the city for a few days. For all we know we could be sitting ducks right now. You know you don’t have to come, right?”

  “I do have to.”

  “No, you don’t. Rhonnie and I can handle ourselves.”

  “I never said you couldn’t, but anything could happen. And if something were to happen to you I’d . . .”

  He paused and Ahli opened her eyes. She turned around in his arms to face him, connecting her gaze with his. She placed her soft hands on his cotton shirt over his chest and leaned into him. There was something about the intense way that he stared down at her that gave her goose bumps, and not the bad kind. The kind that made her never want him to let her go. The kind that made her want to cling to him forever. “You’d what?”

  Brayland leaned down and put his forehead gently on hers, inhaling the vanilla scent coming from her melanin. His eyes focused on her lips, not able to look in her eyes any longer. He never thought a woman could have him open the way that she did; it was an affection he’d never felt toward anyone. He left one hand on the small of her back and brought the other to her face, using his thumb to massage her cheek tenderly.

  “I’d go crazy.” His tone was serious and his jaw clenched. “I don’t know. Ever since I met you shit in my life has changed. When I was back in Miami I used to wake up with one purpose: get money. That was it. I was only living to make a dollar, and that’s no way to live. Because what if I woke up broke one day? There would be no happiness in my life.”

  “And now?” Ahli’s breathing was in sync with his. “What gives you purpose?”

  “Now I live to see that smile on your face. Shit, I wanna be the nigga to put it there. I was never one to believe in fate until that day you drove into the hood in that gold Camaro. You were mine then and you’re mine now. Understand? So yes, I have to go with you.”

  “Bray—”

  He shut her up swiftly by pulling her face up to his, forcing her on the tips of her toes. Her lips felt so soft on his and they were the sweetest things he’d ever tasted. He pulled back from her and saw that her doe-shaped eyes were still shut, almost as if his kiss had left her in a trance.

  “I’m yours too,” he breathed down at her. “I will follow you to the fuckin’ moon and back. Guns blazing, nigga. I’m a grown man. I can make my own decisions. Today and every day after, I choose you. You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.�
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  “I only gave it to you one time.” Ahli finally opened her eyes. “You’re whipped already?”

  Brayland was caught off guard by her response. He was even more shocked when he saw the smile spread on her face, simply because it was something he hadn’t seen in days. Her eyes were still mournful, but he knew it would take some time for that to go away. Still, he would take it as it came and he grinned back at her.

  “I guess you can say that,” he said, kissing her again. “That shit is golden, ma.”

  The two of them embraced and didn’t break apart until Rhonnie came back and resumed her seat at the bar. She placed the laptop on the bar top in front of her as she scrolled through the folder with the plans.

  “We need to be there by tomorrow at three,” Rhonnie told them. “That’s when our guy’s shift starts. The drive is a few hours so I say we leave late tonight so we’re already there. We can set up and be ready before then.”

  Ahli came around the bar so that she too could look at the plans. She would question why Rhonnie wanted to leave so soon if the hit wasn’t until the afternoon the next day, but secretly she knew why. She didn’t want to be in that city longer than she had to. It had caused them so much pain over the last few days, a change of scenery was much needed.

  “Okay,” she said, looking across the kitchen at the digital clock over the stove. It read thirty minutes until six. “We need to finish getting ready then. I’m thinking one car should be cool.”

  Rhonnie clicked out of the file and their eyes were glued on the screensaver. She felt the lump forming in the back of her throat again. She gripped the edge of the bar and breathed deeply.

  “They ripped his throat out.” She finally said it out loud. “They ripped his fucking throat out. Who would do some sick shit like that?”

  “I don’t know.” Ahli tried not to think about her father’s gaping neck. “And that’s why we gotta go get this money, so we can move around. It was just by chance that we weren’t at the house when they came for Daddy. After we get back I say we bury Daddy, sell the house, and move on from here.”

  “Not until I find out who killed him.”

  “You’ll be chasing a ghost. The security footage had already been wiped clean.”

  “Exactly! So we might be on their list too!”

  “No.” Ahli shook her head. “Nobody except Uncle Lance even knew Daddy had daughters. Did you ever notice that both of their names were always spelled wrong on our information when we were in school?”

  “Yeah, because the schools never updated their systems.”

  “Or maybe our parents purposely kept us secret,” Ahli said, thinking about the story Quinton told her. “Maybe they were trying to protect our identities. I think whoever killed him was just after him. And they got him. It will be hard, but he taught us how to survive for a reason. The only thing we can do is move on.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know, but with half a million dollars we can go anywhere.”

  Chapter 11

  Two Days Earlier

  A man sat behind his desk filing some paperwork that he’d been putting off for weeks when he heard the door to his office open.

  “Honey, I’m working,” he said, not looking up. “I said I’ll be down in a little bit.”

  “No need.” An ominous voice he didn’t recognize filled the air. “I like you right where you are.”

  His head jerked up in time to see what was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. She wore a gray skirt suit with a ruffled white collared shirt and she had her clutch purse tucked under her armpit. The tall white and gray stiletto pumps made her look much taller than she was and the suit showed off the kind of curves that would drive any man insane. Her mahogany brown skin was smooth and her high cheekbones made her full red lips pop without question. She had jet-black hair pulled into a tight bun with two sticks protruding from it. Her appearance made it hard to determine her age but her slanted, cold brown eyes belonged to a person who had seen much death.

  “And you are?”

  “It does not matter who I am, Lance,” the woman said, walking to the desk and wiping the papers from it in one swipe so that she could sit down. “All that matters right now is who you are.”

  The smile she gave him was an eerie one and he was certain he’d never seen this woman a day in his life. He didn’t know who she was or how she even knew his name. “How do you know my name?”

  “Ohhh.” She chuckled, leaning back on one of her hands. “A little birdie might have let it slip.”

  “Bitch, I’m not going to play your little games.” Lance reached for the landline phone next to his desktop computer so that he could call security to have her escorted out. “You need to get the hell out of my office.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she told him and admired her favorite red polish on her nails.

  As soon as he put the phone to his ear, he expected to hear the dial tone. When he heard nothing, he pressed some of the buttons on the base of the phone; but still there was nothing but dead air. At first, when he saw the woman enter, he wasn’t intimidated at all. Now all he wanted to know was who in the world she was and how she was able to get past his security. Two big men sat at the gate that surrounded his entire property and two more stood in front of the door, making sure that nobody who was uninvited made it through.

  He looked at the woman sitting on his desk casually looking at her small hands and then at his computer screen. Clicking a few buttons he brought up the camera views from the front of the house and by the gate. What he saw made his stomach turn. All four men were in plain view, except they were lying in awkward angles on the ground by their posts. He could see that their throats had been slit and that they were lying in thick pools of their own blood.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The woman shook her head at him. “And I hoped you would make this easy for me.”

  “Who the fuck are you? And what do you want?” Lance growled. The jaw line on his chocolate face clenched and beads of sweat were forming on top of his bald head.

  The woman noticed his perspiration and smirked. “No need to be nervous. As long as you do everything I say you won’t have anything to worry about. Now”—she stood and walked around the desk until she was standing directly in front of him—“the birdie who sang that beautiful song in my ear told me that you know a man by the name of Quinton Malone.”

  Never in his life had he felt fear because of a woman, but there was something about the one in front of him that made his skin crawl. She stared down her pointy nose at him and something in him said that she would do whatever she needed to do to get the information she wanted. His dead men proved that. Still, he and Quinton went way back. It would take more than a few sliced necks for him to give his friend up. “I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

  “Ohhh, a thief and a liar.” She wrinkled her nose. “So naughty, but I guess those traits do go hand in hand. Now I’m going to ask you a different question, and this time keep in mind that I know what kind of business you do together.”

  “Fuck you,” he spat. “You killed my men. I’m not telling you anything.”

  “You don’t need to tell me anything, but you will tell him something.”

  At that point she untucked her clutch from under her arm so that she could retrieve a folded-up piece of paper from it. When she dropped it in his lap she motioned for him to open it up. After glaring at her for a few more moments, curiosity got the best of him and he did as she wanted. Scrawled in black ink with neat black handwriting were details to a job in Coralville, Iowa. It stated that there was a vault of some kind with half a million dollars in it.

  “Is this real?” he asked, greed getting the best of him.

  “Nope.” She sat down on his lap and looked deeply into his eyes. “But you’re going to make it sound like it.”

  Her hand trailed down his face, to his chest, and stopped for a second at his crotch. She let out a small laugh
when she felt that his little member was standing directly up and at full attention. It always amused her how easy it was to arouse a man, even in a seemingly life-or-death situation. She wondered if it was her plump bottom or her perky breasts that was making him horny. She knew that even though he’d seen with his own two eyes that his guards were dead, the only reason why he hadn’t thrown her from his lap was because he wanted her sexually. He had sexualized her from the moment she stepped foot in his office, even though his family was currently under the same roof. She looked in his eyes as she stroked his manhood, making him swallow hard before she moved her hand to its real destination. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, she shoved it into his chest.

  “Call him now,” she demanded without question.

  “And if I don’t?” he asked.

  She smiled at him and cocked her head. “Did I mention that it wasn’t me who killed your guards?”

  “If you didn’t, then who did?”

  The woman leaned away from him slightly to click a button on his keyboard. She clicked through a few screens, casually passing the ones with the views of his cooks and housekeepers also lying dead in their own blood. She zoomed in on one of the views from the cameras in the house and revealed a sight even more horrible than the first. Huddled in the living room on the couch were his wife and daughter, which would have been a normal sight, except they were not alone.

  Standing over them was a masked woman holding a bloody machete. On her waist it was apparent that she had a firearm as well. The woman stood up from him so that she could get a good look at his face. She was pleased at the horror displayed there. She tried to capture the moment of his eyes widening so that she could hold on to it forever.

  “Now make the call.”

  Lance finally peeled his eyes from the screen and looked back at the woman. He weighed his options. Not only had he been in situations like the one at hand, but he was usually the one doing the demanding. With that being said he knew there was a slim chance to none that any of them would make it out of there alive. He took a breath and spit at her feet.