RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance

by Aletto, Anna

  “Why do I have to decide?”

  “Why not? You’re part of this. Your life is at stake.”

  I took a drag.

  “I had a good feeling about you when we met. I knew you’d make a difference. Make the right decision for us now.”

  When G.C. and DeAnthony showed up, I still hadn’t decided. G.C., usually passive and quiet, was eager to talk. He sat at the chair at Terrell’s desk, clasped his hands on his knees, and asked, “Have we decided?”

  “Not yet,” Terrell said. “Brandon has the final say.”

  G.C. laughed. “Seriously, what are we doing?”

  Terrell shrugged. “I have mixed emotions. But I want Brandon to decide for us.”

  “This has to be a fucking joke,” G.C. said, dismayed. “Why does he decide?”

  “He’s the low man on the totem pole. If we’re going to ask him to stick his neck out, I think he should be comfortable with this.”

  “If he’s not comfortable, he doesn’t have to do it,” G.C. shouted. “We don’t need him. We never did. I still don’t know what adding him to this group accomplished other than dividing the amount each of us made after each job.”

  “Hey, chill out. Brandon’s a good kid,” DeAnthony said and glanced at me, hoping my feelings weren’t hurt. He was genuinely the nicest person of us all. “He’s helped us move quicker and he stopped Terrell from getting his head bashed in. If we’re going to do this, we should all be down for it.”

  “Great.” G.C. scoffed. “So we’re not going to be millionaires because this kid is too fucking scared? This is fucking unbelievable.”

  “I think we should do it,” I announced.

  The three of them turned to me.

  “Yeah?” Terrell asked.

  I nodded. “I think we can. We just have to be even more careful than usual.”

  “I could probably get us some firearms,” DeAnthony added. “Even though it’s not our usual protocol, we should go in there with some protection.”

  Terrell mulled it over. “Let’s do it. But we need to scout this place out immediately. We have to pack months of research into a week.”

  Every day of that week I grew more and more nervous. The robbery was scheduled for Sunday night. On Friday afternoon I received a phone call from DeAnthony when I returned home from school.

  “Have you talked to Terrell?” he asked.

  “Not recently.”

  “Go over to his place and check on him, will ya? I’m at work ‘til later.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I talked to him late last night and he said he felt weird. He said he was light-headed and all his senses were off. I told him all the weed he smokes was fucking with his head. But I’ve called him three times today and he’s not answering.”

  I jogged over to Terrell’s house. As I stepped onto the lawn, the front door swung open and his girlfriend Tameka walked out holding a bowl of chicken soup.

  “Is Terrell okay?” I asked.

  “Fuck that miserable motherfucker,” she screamed. “He can die. See if I care.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “He’s got the stomach flu,” Tameka said, still angry. “I heard he was sick so I fixed him some soup. You think he’d appreciate me, huh?”

  I shrugged.

  “Of course not. He doesn’t say ‘thank you.” He says, ‘Bitch, I can’t even drink water without throwing up. What do you want me to do with chicken soup?’ Even sick when he can hardly move, he can’t be grateful for nothing.”

  I nodded.

  The bowl of soup cupped in her hand, Tameka turned her body and flung it against the front of the house. The bowl shattered against the brick and soup splattered onto the cement stoop. Chunks of chicken landed atop broth that streamed off the stoop and dripped into the grass of the lawn. “Tell him I don’t care how much he says ‘I’m sorry’ or how much he says he loves me,” Tameka yelled as she stormed away. “I don’t want to see his ass again.”

  In the living room Terrell’s grandmother sat in her chair. The television was off and she looked worried. “Your Terrell’s friend, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you check on him?” she asked me. “I don’t think he’s well.”

  “Yeah, I’ll make sure he’s okay.” I rapped my knuckles lightly on his bedroom door. “It’s Brandon. Are you holding up alright?”

  “I’ve thrown up nine times and I’m dehydrated as fuck.” He moaned. “My whole body aches.”

  “Try to sip some water slowly if you can.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I drink fast, slow or medium. I can’t keep shit down. I’m fucked.”

  I cracked open his door and stood in the doorway. “Is there anything you want me to do for you?”

  “What the fuck can you do that’ll help me? I just have to endure this shit until it goes away.”

  “Okay.” I started to close his door and leave.

  “Hey, wait!” He stopped me. “Can you make something for my grandma to eat? I don’t think she’s had anything all day. And tell her I’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, I’ll handle it.”

  “Thanks,” he said and rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head.

  On the kitchen stove I made grilled cheese and boiled a kettle for tea. I served his grandmother the meal and joined her at their small plywood table.

  She took a bite of her sandwich. “Your Terrell’s friend, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s the weather today?”

  “Humid.”

  “Do you go to school?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s kind of boring to me though.”

  She nodded. “Terrell was always the same way. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart though. He made good grades, but he just hated it. He’d cry, pretend he was sick – whatever it took to get out of going. When he was little I had to promise I’d buy him ice cream at the end of every week if he didn’t skip any days.”

  I listened attentively.

  She finished her sandwich and tea and I rinsed off the cup and plate in the sink. “Where is Terrell?” she asked.

  “In his room. He’s not feeling well. He’ll be alright though.” I helped her back into her chair in the living room. “I’m leaving now, okay? You need anything before I go?”

  “What’s your name again?” she asked.

  “Brandon.”

  “You’re a really sweet young man. I’m glad Terrell has a nice friend like you.”

  I exhaled a chuckle. “Well … thank you.”

  That evening I had a three-way phone call with DeAnthony and G.C.

  “Terrell’s supposed to be scouting the place out tonight and tomorrow,” G.C. said. “Is he on for that?”

  “No,” I said. “He needs time to recover.”

  “Fuck,” G.C. responded.

  “I’ll fill in tonight,” DeAnthony said.

  “Alright,” G.C. said, calming down.

  “I could do it tomorrow,” I offered.

  “You’ve never scouted before,” G.C. shot back. “I’m supposed to have work, but fuck it. We’re about to be millionaires anyway, right? I’ll take a sick day and take care of it.”

  “We need to meet up early Sunday at Terrell’s house,” DeAnthony said. “We have a short time frame to cram for everything we need to know.”

  Sunday, the morning of the robbery, I showed up at Terrell’s house before anyone else.

  “Not too close,” Terrell told me as I stepped into his bedroom. “Grab a chair and sit away from me. I don’t want to get you sick.”

  I looked at him and he didn’t look too bad. “Are you doing better?”

  “Maybe a little,” he said offhandedly. “Not really.”

  G.C. and DeAnthony soon arrived, both eager for business.

  “There’s no way I can do this,” Terrell announced to us all.

  “You look like you’re almost better,” G.C. said. “I bet you can do it.”

  “I have no e
nergy. I feel like shit. I can hardly move. And even if I dragged myself out of here, the last thing I need is to start fucking vomiting in the middle of a job. Especially this one. If I could do it, I would. But I can’t.”

  Silence enveloped the room.

  Finally G.C. spoke up, exasperated. “So this is it? We’re passing up on ten million dollars?”

  Terrell shrugged dismissively. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying I’m out.”

  G.C. glanced over to DeAnthony. “You still in?”

  “Should we do this without Terrell?” DeAnthony grimaced, pained at the thought.

  “I want him there, but he said he can’t,” G.C. replied. “You and me have been doing all the scouting anyway. We’re the ones who already know the layout of this place. We don’t need anyone else.”

  “This whole situation being what it is, I’m thinking the more manpower on our side, the better,” DeAnthony said.

  “Do you still want me?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” DeAnthony said.

  “Fuck that,” G.C. countered. “No offense, but he’s been tagging along long enough.”

  “Come on, man,” DeAnthony said. “We could use the extra person.”

  “For what?” G.C. asked. “We bust in, I crack the safe, and we stuff the money into bags. We don’t need help. I’ll take my five million and you take yours.”

  “Shouldn’t we give them a cut of it anyway?” DeAnthony suggested. “Especially Terrell.”

  “You do whatever you want with your share,” G.C. said. “After this, I’m officially retired and gone from this city.”

  DeAnthony offered no rebuttal.

  “C’mon, let’s go get ready,” G.C. said as he walked out of the room. “Terrell’s sick and probably wants his rest anyway.”

  DeAnthony hesitated and looked at Terrell. “You cool with this?”

  “Do what you want to do,” Terrell said.

  DeAnthony patted me on the shoulder and mumbled, “Sorry, man.”

  “Call me tonight when it’s over,” Terrell told DeAnthony who followed after G.C.

  After DeAnthony left, Terrell looked more ill than when I arrived.

  I was profoundly disappointed, having missed a possible opportunity to become a millionaire while still in high school. But I also felt relieved. Without Terrell’s guidance, I really didn’t want to try anything too dangerous. I told him I’d go home since he was still sick, but he asked me to stay longer.

  Terrell wanted to talk, lonely from being alone in bed for two days. In an introspective mood, he spoke about his mother who he last saw when he was six years old. He told me stories about his grandparents who adopted him. His grandmother spoiled him and he bonded with his late grandfather over sports. He mentioned meeting DeAnthony in fifth grade and becoming best friends.

  Later in the evening, I went out for food. Terrell said he wanted to try to eat something. I drove to a local establishment called Don Don’s and picked up hot wings for myself and chicken tenders for Terrell. Back in his room, he nibbled on a tender and sipped a glass of water. I ate my wings and drank a beer from the kitchen. We watched a movie on his big-screen TV.

  By the film’s end, I had finished all my food and so had Terrell. I looked at his empty Styrofoam box which had contained the tenders. “You’re not really sick, are you?” I asked.

  “I’m feeling a little bit better. I was throwing up and didn’t eat a thing the past couple days. I guess I just got my appetite back.”

  “You didn’t want to do this job.”

  “I told you from the beginning I didn’t want to do it. What does that have to do with me being sick?”

  “Your grandmother said you’d act sick as a kid to get out of school.”

  “So you think I was never sick? I was lying?”

  “Well, you do sometimes, don’t you? Like with gambling? You told me you don’t count cards. But there’s no way you could be that lucky by chance.” I looked at him.

  He stared back at me.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I guess I’m just being stupid.”

  He nodded and neither of us said anything else about it.

  Midnight passed and Terrell grew edgier, waiting for DeAnthony’s phone call. We watched another couple movies. At four o’clock in the morning, still with no call, I decided to go home. “You think something went wrong?” I asked.

  “Those motherfuckers probably pulled it off and have been out all night partying. DeAnthony’s probably passed out drunk somewhere with five million bucks in his pocket. And here our dumb asses are sitting around worrying.”

  I smiled. “Fuck it, right?”

  “Exactly.” He chuckled. “Fuck both those rich motherfuckers.”

  We didn’t hear from G.C. or DeAnthony for the next week. A couple kids found them in the suburb of Germantown. They were in the woods off Callis Cutoff Road. Their heads and limbs, severed from the trunks of their bodies, sat amongst the dirt and dried leaves.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Police contacted Terrell about DeAnthony’s murder. They wanted to know if Terrell had talked to him beforehand. What had DeAnthony planned to do that night? Where did he plan to be? What was his relationship with G.C.? Were there any signs of trouble in DeAnthony’s life?

  Terrell played dumb. The risk of death was inherent in what we did. So he stonewalled the police and had no plans of revenge. All thefts ceased and Terrell dealt quietly with his best friend’s death.

  He and I met a couple days before Christmas. In a convenience store I bought a bottle of chocolate milk and he bought a cigar. We sat on a bench beside a basketball court in a neighborhood park.

  “Are there any houses you got your eye on?” I asked.

  “That’s over,” Terrell said. “Most of the information we got came from G.C. He knew where the nice houses were with the expensive shit in them. He knew how to disarm the locks and the security alarms. And DeAnthony turned the profit on the cars we stole. Without them, we lack the know-how and the hookups to work efficiently and be profitable.”

  I sat disappointed, now without a source of income.

  Terrell chewed on his cigar. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to make some extra money if there was a way to do it. But unless you can think of one, I just don’t see it.”

  Terrell still worked as a bouncer. After five years at Platinum Pleasures strip club, the owner had noted Terrell’s intelligence and work ethic. Consequently, Terrell was being trained for a promotion into a management position. In the meantime, he continued to maintain order at the club.

  On Christmas Eve, Curtis Reznok and his entourage showed up. He visited the club on a semi-regular basis. Terrell had seen him many times before but they had never spoken. Curtis had a personal friendship with the club owner. Accordingly, one of Curtis’s street-level dealers was usually in or around the club bathrooms, selling. Curtis also had a relationship with the strippers whom he gave high-dollar tips. In the club they sat and talked with him. At night’s end, one often went home with him.

  After midnight, in the early hours of Christmas morning, Terrell ducked out the back of the club for some air. Parked in the back lot was Curtis’s black limousine SUV amongst the other cars.

  Shortly after Terrell stepped outside, the back door swung open and out came Curtis. “I need to talk to you. You got a minute?”

  Behind Curtis were six more men awaiting an answer.

  “Sure,” Terrell said.

  They all sat together in the limousine SUV. Curtis wore a black V-neck under a suit coat. On his wrist was a platinum Rolex. “You were the best friend of a guy named DeAnthony, right?”

  Terrell nodded.

  “What’d you talk about the last time you heard from him?”

  “I don’t see how it’s your business.”

  Curtis stared at him.

  Terrell stared back.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “I’ve seen you here before.”

  “What did DeAnt
hony know about me? Or anyone around me for that matter?”

  Terrell shrugged. “Nothing I know of.”

  “There was a guy with him when he died. You know him?”

  “A little.”

  “What was their relationship?”

  “Friends.”

  “Were they in business together?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “You don’t seem to know much.” Curtis smiled. “Tell me something you do know.”

  “About what?”

  “About anything.”

  Terrell thought a moment before glancing at Curtis’s wrist. “You have a nice watch.”

  “You like this?” Curtis took the watch off. “I bought it a while back. It’s pretty, but it keeps shitty time.” He held it in his hand. “Reminds me of some of the girls who work here. Beautiful on the outside but not very functional.” Curtis looked at the Rolex. “You know what? I don’t even like this watch. I’m going to find the most fucked up girl working here tonight and give it to her.”

  Terrell chuckled.

  Curtis smiled, then asked, “What did you say to the police when they talked to you?”

  “Same as I did to you,” Terrell said. “Really, I don’t know what happened to DeAnthony and I don’t want to know. I’d rather just remember him as my friend, the kid I grew up with. If DeAnthony made some type of mistake at the end of his life, knowing about it won’t help me bring him back.”

  Curtis listened carefully, assessing Terrell’s demeanor. “I spoke to your boss. He said you’ve worked here a long time. How come you’ve never talked to me?”

  Terrell shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “He said he’s training you to be the part-time manager. You going to treat me and my friends well when we come here?”

  “Of course.”

  Curtis nodded. “Your friend DeAnthony was involved with some friends of mine. I won’t go into it, but I needed to see if you knew anything to ensure my safety and theirs. Doesn’t seem like you have anything for me though, huh?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I won’t take up any more of your time then.” Curtis extended his hand. “If you happen to remember something, come tell me.”

  Terrell shook his hand as he moved toward the door.

  “And don’t be shy.” Curtis grasped his hand firmly. “Say ‘hi’ next time you see me.”