Cameron 4

by Jade Jones

  The realtor shook his head, obviously unsympathetic to her situation. “No can do,” he said.

  Ericka immediately dropped the phony act and allowed her attitude to surface. “What do you mean no can do? You can’t give me my brother’s new address?” Her tone raised a few octaves.

  The realtor went from being attracted to Ericka to being intimidated by her in less than ten seconds. “I—I don’t know it,” he stuttered. “And even if I did I wouldn’t be able to tell you that—“

  Ericka stormed off before he could finish. She was seething mad as she dug inside her shoulder bag and pulled out a four-inch automatic switchblade. Without thinking twice, she stabbed his left Michelin tire, and ran the blade along the spotless burgundy paint.

  EEERRRRRRRRR!

  The screeching sound of metal on metal tore through the quiet evening air.

  “Hey! What the hell are you doing?!” the realtor yelled.

  By the time he ran over to his car to survey the damage Ericka was already inside of her own peeling off.

  ***

  The Warehouse, located on the outskirts of the city, also doubled as a chop. The King—or simply referred to as “King”—ran one of the biggest advanced car theft rings in the nation. After having the vehicles stolen, he paid to get the VINs changed and fraudulent titles made. After all the “paperwork” was completed and the vehicle’s history was erased, King had the cars placed in a shipping container to be sent overseas. His elaborate organization worked hard to make the shipments appear lawful. He’d even established relationships with several dealers in order to get the key cut by VIN directly. King also tossed some of Fulton County’s finest a few stacks to help with his elaborate scheme. Everything ran smoothly and efficiently.

  Jude was extremely impressed when he entered the warehouse used to temporarily store stolen vehicles. The inside was every mechanics dream. The warehouse/chop shop had a purple and silver theme. There was also a rotating circular stage in the center with two topless dancers performing. Rap music coupled with the sound of drills and machinery was music to Jude’s ears. It reminded him of when he had his own car business and lived lavishly. His success seemed like a distant memory.

  The brown-skinned dancer winked at Jude as soon they made eye contact. He pretended he didn’t notice as he followed Aso towards a gang of guys standing beside a black 2013 Hennessey Venom GT Spyder. Jude had only seen the 1.1 million dollar vehicle in magazines. He felt sorry for the motherfucker who once owned it.

  “What’s good with ya, fam?” Aso dapped up a few of the fellas before pointing to a short Vietnamese man. There was a tribal tattoo on the left side of his face similar to Mike Tyson’s. Judging from his thuggish attire and bad boy swag he wasn’t the average Asian man. “Jude, this my patnah, Vado I was tellin’ you about.”

  Jude stepped forward and gave Vado a manly handshake. He was surprised by the 5”6 man’s strength.

  Got your main bitch on the handle, she dropping and popping no castles…

  I'm smoking on gas like tobacco, I'm drinking on lean taste like Snapple…

  In the VIP rolling a cord, passing out mollies to foreigns…

  They popping them like they some skittles, 2 bitches one me, Malcolm in the middle…

  Migos’ “Hanna Montana” blared through the sport car’s custom speakers. The two topless women danced on the rotating stage for no one in particular. They were there simply for entertainment purposes, not for tips.

  “Come on, my boss wanna holla at you real quick,” Aso told Jude.

  ***

  Since Jude was out doing his thing with his cousin, Cameron decided to find something constructive to do with her time. The movers had finished unloading everything thirty minutes ago, and besides a few boxes that needed unpacking, everything was in order.

  After feeding Justin and putting him to sleep it felt good to have some quality time for herself. Wearing a flag printed American Apparel t-shirt and acid washed denim shorts, Cameron stepped outside to get a breath of fresh of air. She was shoeless but the warm concrete felt good on her bare feet. The view of the city from the townhome was absolutely magnificent. She still couldn’t believe she was actually in Atlanta, Georgia.

  A year ago I would’ve never thought I’d be here, Cameron thought to herself.

  The sudden sound of a dog yelping grabbed her attention. She watched as a pretty dark-skinned female stepped out of her home two doors down. She was dressed casually in a leopard maxi skirt, white crop top and gladiator sandals. A lace headband was wrapped around her head.

  The cream miniature schnauzer began barking at Cameron the moment he saw her. She never did like dogs and the disdain was obviously mutual.

  “I’m sorry. He barks at everything and everyone. Don’t take it personal,” the young woman said before firing up a Newport.

  “I won’t,” Cameron smiled.

  “You just moved here?” the woman asked. She blew the smoke through her slightly parted lips.

  “This evening,” Cameron answered.

  “I’m Rumor,” she walked over to Cameron to shake her hand.

  Rumor’s hair was cut in a shoulder length asymmetrical bob. She instantly reminded Cameron of the actress Taral Hicks with her smooth chocolate skin and high cheekbones. She was pretty enough to be a video model.

  “Cameron—or Cam for short. Whichever’s cool.”

  “You from Georgia?”

  “Ohio,” Cameron answered.

  Rumor scoffed. “Ohio? What’s that like, the country?”

  “I’m from Cleveland,” Cameron told her. “It’s very much the city…not as big as Atlanta…but far from being country.”

  The miniature schnauzer continued to yap until Rumor told him to shut the hell up. Surprisingly, he did. “You in school?” she asked Cameron.

  “No. I graduated from CSU last year.”

  “Oh okay, cool. You moved down here by yourself?”

  Cameron wondered if everyone in Georgia was equally as inquisitive as Rumor. “No. With my dude and my son.”

  Rumor smiled, revealing a pair of deep dimples. “What do you do?” she took another pull on the Newport.

  Cameron shrugged. “I owned a little boutique back home but I sold the space before I moved down here,” she explained. “I guess when I get situated and back on my feet I’ll look into opening one down here. How about you?”

  “I dance at Persuasion.”

  Figures, Cameron thought. Just the mere mention of stripping made her think about all the shit she’d gone through. Cameron had sworn it off…however, the thought of the easy money made returning seem very tempting.

  “You make good tips?” Cameron asked.

  Rumor nodded her head towards the townhome. “Section 8 damn sure wouldn’t cover this shit,” she retorted.

  Cameron looked out at the city. “I used to dance,” she admitted in a low tone.

  “Ever thought about coming out of retirement?” Rumor asked. “You damn sure got the body for it,” she said, looking Cameron’s figure over.

  “My dude wouldn’t have that,” she told her.

  Rumor’s schnauzer tugged on the leash. He was obviously bored with standing around listening to meaningless conversation. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around. Maybe we can hang out sometimes. It’s always good to have a friend in a new city.”

  Cameron nodded her head in agreement. “That sounds cool.”

  Rumor made her way back towards her townhome. When she reached the foot of her stairs she turned towards Cameron. “It ain’t nothing wrong with having your own money, Miss Cameron,” she said.

  Before Cameron could allow her words to sink in, Rumor disappeared inside of her home.

  Cameron shrugged the statement off as she walked back inside her townhome. She seems cool.

  ***

  Rumor tossed her house keys on the foyer accent table. She then removed Tigger—her miniature schnauzer’s—leash and allowed him
to roam freely. Pictures of her and her boyfriend, Calix donned the off white walls of the entryway. The sweet smell of incense burning greeted her senses the moment she walked further inside.

  Rumor’s cozy townhome was neat and organized. Not a decorative ornament was out of place. At first glance the home looked like it belonged to a normal happy couple…until Rumor walked through the kitchen and opened the door that led to the spacious garage area.

  The room was completely dark since Rumor had taped cardboard over the garage door windows so that no one could look inside. The sound of labored breathing was the only thing that could be heard inside of the junky garage.

  5

  When Rumor flicked the light switch on she saw Calix lying in a fetal position with his arms and legs bound with cable wire. There was a thick piece of duct tape over his mouth. Dried blood covered his face from the four day old gash on his forehead.

  “Mmm,” he groaned in pain with his eyes still shut tightly. The light bulb seemed twice as intense since he was used to being in total darkness.

  Rumor slowly made her way over towards Calix. The heels of her gladiator sandals clicked against the filthy concrete. When she reached him she leaned over his body.

  The putrid stench of urine filled the 16x18 garage. Calix had pissed himself at least five times since his imprisonment. He still wore the same outfit: a pair of True Religion jeans, a gray beater, and dirty white socks.

  The afternoon Calix admitted to sleeping with her sister Roxie, Rumor had completely snapped. She smashed a $300 Neiman Marcus wine jug over his head, knocking him out instantly. While he lay unconscious and bleeding profusely from his head, Rumor dragged him inside the garage and tied his arms and legs together. Fighting pit bulls were treated better than Calix. Rumor kept him alive only so he could feel the same hurt and pain that he’d inflicted on her.

  Rumor lit another cigarette as she stared at a weak Calix. “What’s wrong baby?” she asked in the same tone one would use if speaking to a toddler.

  Calix responded by making muffled noises.

  Rumor heartlessly snatched the duct tape off his thick lips and he winced in pain. “I’m…dying…,” he struggled to say.

  Rumor sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Boy, you ain’t damn dying,” she told him. “You’re probably just hungry. Is that what it is?”

  If Calix had enough strength he would’ve head-butted her crazy ass, but all he could do was lay feebly on the cold, hard garage floor. The hunger pains in his stomach were intolerable, and he was incredibly dehydrated.

  Rumor took a pull on her cigarette and gently ran her fingers along his cheek. At twenty-seven, Calix Ramirez was fine as hell—on his good days. His caramel skin tone and short curly hair showed off his Dominican heritage. He was an average 5”10 with a slender, toned frame. Stubble had formed around his chiseled jawline and he smelled horribly.

  “Mmm,” Calix groaned in agony. He struggled to open his light brown eyes.

  Without remorse, Rumor smashed the tip of the cigarette into his arm to put it out.

  “Gaaaahhhh!” Calix cried out.

  Rumor instantly covered his mouth so that the neighbors couldn’t hear.

  Tigger ran inside the smell garage, yapping the entire time. After he ran over to Calix he anxiously began licking his face. He was oblivious to the situation occurring in front of him.

  Pain shot throughout Calix’s entire body. The burning sensation immediately had him up and alert. “You fuckin’ bitch!” he spat through Rumor’s fingers.

  Rumor hastily covered his mouth with the duct tape so that she wouldn’t have to deal with anymore of his obscenities.

  She slowly stood to her feet and snapped her finger. Tigger followed obediently at her heels as she exited the garage. Minutes later, Rumor returned with last night’s cold picked over leftovers.

  Kneeling by Calix’s side, she peeled the tape off his mouth, this time less aggressively. “You hungry?” she asked sweetly before digging her bare hands into the plate of food.

  Before Calix could respond, Rumor viciously stuffed the food inside his oral cavity. He choked on the remnants of dinner, and struggled swallowing it.

  “Better?” Rumor asked.

  PFEW!

  Calix spit a mouthful of cold mash potatoes and chicken breast in Rumor’s face. “Bitch, you better kill me…’cuz when I get out this bitch I’ma tear yo’ mufuckin’ head off ya shoulders. That’s on everything I love.”

  Rumor was not fazed by his threat in the least. “Save ya energy, boo,” she told him before covering his mouth with the duct tape. “You’ll need it.” With that said she stood to her feet and walked towards the door. When she went to close the door behind herself she heard Calix’s unnerving muffled cries.

  Rumor gradually walked back over and kneeled beside him. Against her better judgment, she pulled the tape off his mouth so he could speak.

  “Baby, I’m sorry!” Calix bellowed. Globs of mucus trickled from his nose and ran down his mouth and chin. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I fucked up!” he cried.

  In all her twenty-six years of living, Rumor had never ever seen a grown man cry. Calix looked absolutely pathetic, but she really enjoyed having the power for once. All throughout their seven year long relationship, she’d allowed Calix to take the driver’s seat. He was supposed to be the strength in their unity, but he’d taken her heart and trust and crushed it in the palm of his hand.

  “Please! Let me go,” Calix pleaded. “You say you a love a nigga, but how the hell can you treat me like this? This shit is crazy. I fucked up, Rumor. Damn, what else you wanna mufucka to say? I’m sorry!”

  Tears streamed down Rumor’s chocolate cheeks. She could hear her deceased mother telling her “Love is the most beautiful thing to have, hardest thing to earn, and most painful thing to lose.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Rumor said before covering his mouth.

  Calix began thrashing about wildly after she walked away. He couldn’t take another day being locked away in the garage. It was driving him mentally crazy.

  Rumor had lost her sympathy for him a long time ago. He didn’t have any for her when he laid down her sister so she refused to have any for him. Ignoring his muffled screams, she turned off the light switch and closed the door behind her.

  ***

  Aso led Jude inside a vast, luxurious office that had a lofty feel to it. White furniture decorated the charming room, and in the corner was a small stage where a busty blonde spun around a bronze pole.

  Seated behind a $900 white office desk was King, the mastermind and overseer of the entire car theft operation. The smug expression on his face made him look twice as intimidating. He resembled Compton native rapper, The Game but his face was tatted up like Wayne’s.

  The atmosphere was a lot more ‘chill’ inside of his office. The rap music was even mellower than in the chop shop.

  “King, this my cousin Jude—the nigga I been tellin’ you ‘bout.”

  Jude absentmindedly stepped forward and extended his hand for King to shake.

  “Sit down,” King said, not bothering to shake Jude’s hand.

  Jude felt disconcerted and out of place, but nevertheless he remained cool, calm, and collected. He took a seat across from King in a comfy white chair. Aso stood by his side with his hands clasped in front of him. He looked like a parent standing next to his child in the principal’s office.

  The expansive office began to feel claustrophobic to Jude. I can’t believe I’m about to step into some shit I ain’t got no business being in. The thought of prison caused discomfort, but Jude remembered that he was doing this shit for his family.

  “Aso told me you know a lil’ somethin’ about cars,” King said. His New Orleans accent was strong.

  “I used to have my own lil’ lot out in Cleveland,” Jude told him. “Before that I worked with my big brother at his in Columbus. We been fuckin’ with cars for a minute but…” His voice trailed off.

  “You ain’t n
ever had to steal ‘em,” King said, finishing his sentence.

  Jude shuffled nervously in his seat. His eyes traveled to everything in the room before settling back onto King. “Yeah…exactly…”

  King sat back in his seat and gave Jude a side eye. He looked tough but he could tell the young dude was a good guy. He didn’t seem as reckless and audacious as the other members. Maybe Jude could prove to be an asset to his business after all. With all of the incoming orders, King could definitely use more niggas to steal the cars.

  “Just curious,” King began. “What you pushin’?”

  “Well I did have a 2012 Fisker Karma,” Jude answered. “That bitch was clean too…but I told my girl to sell it ‘cuz she really needed the paper. I was locked up at the time.”

  Aso burst out laughing. “Man, you one noble as mufucka,” he said. “I would never sell the ‘Rati for Lana’s ass. I wouldn’t give a fuck how broke that bitch was.”

  King cut his eyes at Aso and he immediately ceased his laughter. Jude’s actions were nothing short of being admirable. Respect went a long way with a nigga with like him.

  “Aso, I want you to take him out tonight and show him everything he needs to know,” King said, looking directly at Jude.

  “Tonight?!” Jude repeated in skepticism. He’d just made an eleven hour drive to Georgia. He didn’t want to do anything but take a hot shower and climb in bed beside his lady.

  “Mufucka, did I stutter?” King sneered.

  Jude looked down. “Nah, you didn’t,” he answered. “You were real clear.”

  “Good. Now get the fuck out my office. Both of ya’ll.”

  6

  Justin laid beside Cameron in her plush king size platform bed. Jude should’ve been lying beside her as well, but whatever he and Aso were doing was obviously more important than spending their first night together in their new home.

  Cameron had her head propped on a hand as she scrolled through her iPhone’s gallery. There were hundreds of pictures of her, Jude, and Justin during various outings. It seemed ironic when she thought back to the afternoon she nearly aborted her child. Cameron and Jude’s relationship started off like a fantasy—until reality finally settled in. Hardships and financial struggles had put a slight burden on their connection…but she hoped this move would correct things.