No Home Training

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No Home Training Page 9

by Ms. Michel Moore

“No,” Kenya conceded going to turn on the television to see what was happening. “Why?”

  Storm sighed. “Boz was killed last night.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, and Royce and two other cats, but I’ll tell you about it later. Me and O.T. out in the projects.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Kenya hung up the phone and was in shock as she sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the newscast to come on. Tears started to stream down her face as she thought about Boz being gone. When Storm was missing, he was the one who held the fort down. He was Alley Cats’ backbone. Finally seeing the news updates breaking report on the quadruple homicide, it all hit home. Wiping her face with tissue Kenya sadly then started to wonder what in the hell Boz’s wife was gonna do now with all those kids she’d have to raise on her own.

  Damn life was much too short. She thought, as she made the decision to stop fighting Storm and try to help him, that could’ve been him lying dead on the side of that house.

  Detectives

  “Well it seems as if we’ve got a suspect for the four murders.” Malloy smiled elated that a break in the case came so soon.

  “What’s the latest?” Kendrick poured his first cup of coffee.

  Malloy then stood up heading over to do the same. “Some geezer said he looked out his window and saw a young guy with, get this, long yellow ropes in his head hop his fence. He’s on his way down now.”

  “No, he didn’t! Is he sure? It was dark.”

  “Yeah, I thought about that too. But the old man has bright motion lights that illuminates damn near the whole neighborhood whenever you step foot on his property.” Malloy laughed. “Shit, matter of fact the city has ticketed him repeatedly ordering him to remove the high-voltage lighting. So if he said he saw a kid with yellow ropes in his head and is willing to take time out and look at mug shots, I’m going with it!”

  “Well it seems like we might as well go ahead and alert the fugitive apprehension team.” Kendrick started thinking ahead. “The only one with yellow ropes.” He laughed, mocking the old man’s description of dreadlocks.

  “It’s Royce’s boy Marco Meriwether.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Malloy waited for the suspect’s photo to print out of their system. “And my guess is he ain’t gonna give up without a fight. So as soon as we get a positive ID, let’s plaster this picture all across the news and see how long he last in the streets!”

  New Beginnings . . .

  Weary and emotionally drained, Storm came dragging through the front door of the condo. Nursing a cheap liquor-inflicted hangover and a splitting headache, he was met with the smell of turkey bacon, eggs, and grits coming from the kitchen. Throwing his keys on the table he stood in the doorway ready to collapse. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Now not only was he responsible for Kenya, her sister London, their unborn baby, Alley Cats, the mortgage on the condo, three car notes, and he had to make sure all of Boz’s family’s needs were taken care of.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Kenya, for the first time in over a month, ran up to him wrapping her arms around his neck. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” Storm was surprised at the greeting he got but went with the flow.

  “What happened to Boz?”

  “We went on a mission last night and shit got out of control, but Royce got his!”

  “Damn!”

  “Yeah, and now we gonna get Marco next!”

  “I can’t believe all this is happening so fast!”

  “Yeah, Kenya, it’s a long, crazy-ass story, but bottom line my manz is dead.” Storm dropped his head on her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, baby. It’s gonna be okay,” Kenya reassured him stroking his hair. As she was trying to be nice and comfort him she saw the scratch on his neck and had to almost bite her tongue off to not trip.

  “I see you cooking.” He rose up.

  “Yeah, I thought you might be hungry. So sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”

  “That’ll work.” Storm’s empty stomach started to growl. “Just let me jump in the shower and get some of this project dirt off me.”

  “Okay, babe.” Kenya smiled putting part one of her plan in motion. “And while you’re getting clean, I’m gonna make that call out east.”

  “Damn, Kenya! That’s good looking!”

  “Anything for you.” Kenya winked her eye.

  Storm went upstairs and turned the temperature dial on as hot as he could stand. Stepping out his clothes he looked at his muscular frame in the glass door. As the water rushed down on his body he had to wonder what happened to change Kenya’s behavior so quickly. Now, maybe things could get back to normal. He prayed as the steam filled the bathroom.

  Brother Rasul

  “Hey, Fatima, how you doing?”

  “I’m well, Kenya.”

  “That’s good. Is Brother Rasul around?”

  “He’s out in the backyard.” Fatima acted as if she had some sort of an attitude for Kenya calling.

  “Well, are you going to get him or what?”

  “Yeah, in a minute,” Fatima huffed. “But first me and you need to talk.”

  “Oh yeah!” Kenya wasn’t stupid and knew where this bullshit was heading. “About what?”

  “Well, I talked to London.”

  “And?”

  “And don’t you think you’re being just a little bit unfair?” Fatima asked expecting an honest answer. “That is your sister.”

  “Don’t you think ya ass need to stay out my fucking business? You must have me all the way twisted! Just because you my sister’s little friend and Brother Rasul running all up in that don’t give you the right to jump off into mines! So back off!”

  “Listen, London is my girl, so that makes it my business!”

  “Bitch, please! Go on back to school!” Kenya dismissed her. “And put ya man on the line!”

  “That’s right, Kenya, you said it correct, my man!”

  Fatima hung up in her ear and didn’t answer the three more times that Kenya tried calling back. Needless to say, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. Kenya dialed Brother Rasul’s cell phone and he immediately picked up.

  “As-Salaam Alaikum.”

  “Hey now, Brother Rasul.”

  “How’s life in Dallas? I’ve been following the news and wondered when you’d call.”

  “You know me like the back of your hand don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess you can say that, huh?” Brother Rasul grinned. “Now what do you need, little sis?”

  “Well, you know Storm?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Well, I know you don’t really try to get off into the other side of the life he’s living but we need your help once again or we might lose everything.”

  “You said we,” he strangely questioned. “I got the impression from Fatima you two weren’t doing so well.”

  Kenya turned her lip up at the thought of Fatima’s big mouth running about her personal matters. “Are you talking about that mess with London?”

  “Yes, Kenya, I am.” He was truthful and didn’t hold any punches when speaking.

  “To keep it real. Naw, I’m not happy about it. Who would be? But that don’t have nothing to do with me.”

  “Come on, sis, it has everything to do with you. Now if you can promise me you’re gonna stay with that man and forgive him and maybe your sister’s transgressions then I can help him. Other than that I wouldn’t feel completely comfortable making the introductions.”

  “Me and him gonna stay together and get married really soon,” Kenya honesty promised knowing she was about to try to get pregnant. “But as for London, I ain’t gonna lie. Me and her ain’t dealing.”

  “Well, I’ll pray things one day change for you and your sister.” Brother Rasul respected Kenya’s word and gave her the go-ahead for her and Storm to fly out east to Detroit so they could all discuss business face-to-face.

  When Storm came d
ownstairs to eat an elated Kenya hit him with the good news. “Hey, babe. How was your shower?”

  “I needed that.” Storm reached for the plate she was handing him and sat at the table. “Just like I need this here food.”

  Kenya poured him a tall, ice-cold glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and took a seat across from him. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

  “I can’t take any more bad news.” Storm held the fork in his hand as he waited for the shit to hit the fan.

  “It ain’t like that. It’s just that Brother Rasul said he wants to meet with you in person.”

  “Oh yeah? Now that’s what up!”

  “But we probably can’t get a reasonable flight out of here until late next week.” Kenya stood up standing behind him and started massaging his shoulders. “Is that okay?”

  “That’ll work.” Storm’s face brightened up as his dick got hard as a rock. “That’ll give us time to settle a few other thangs.”

  One thing led to the next, and before the estranged couple knew it they were buck-naked on the living room floor getting that shit in! Sucking! Fucking! Licking and sticking! It was nothing too nasty for Kenya in her sneaky plight to get knocked up. If Storm wanted a baby so bad, London wasn’t gonna be the only bitch to give him one.

  In the middle of their afternoon sexual exploits, the house phone and both of their cell phones went off simultaneously bringing a sudden screeching halt to their freakery. Pulling his still hard manhood out of Kenya, Storm reached up on the couch grabbing his phone.

  “It’s the alarm people. Yeah, hello.”

  “Yes, Mr. Christian.”

  “Yeah, this me.”

  “This is Westmore Security and we need you to get down to your property listed as Alley Cats.”

  “What seems to be the problem?” Storm got up off the floor as Kenya waited anxiously to find out what the dilemma was.

  “There seems to have been a fire on the premises.”

  “All right, I’ll get right down there.”

  Storm scrambled around looking for his pants and shoes, but Kenya beat him to the punch and was already dressed with her purse in hand. “Sweetie, you need to lay low for a few days. Let me go down to the club and handle it.” She was firm not willing to take no for an answer. “And if I need your help I’ll call.”

  Kenya did almost eighty miles per hour getting down to the club. When she pulled into the crowded parking lot Kenya swerved by several fire trucks and the arson investigator who’d already been called to the scene. Peering through her windshield caused her to want to cry. The perfect paint job they’d paid thousands for along with the neon light marquee were completely charred black. The huge double doors had been ripped out the frame so the firefighters could gain entry into the interior.

  “What happened? How did it start?” Kenya tried breaking through the gawkers.

  “Who are you, Miss?” the inspector inquired.

  “My name is Kenya Roberts. I’m the manager and Westmore Security called.”

  “Well, Miss Roberts.” He held his silver clipboard in his hands. “We’ll have to wait until the hot spots are cool before we can really make an assessment of the cause, but I can tell you that our men found some suspicious canisters in the rear of the building.”

  “What! Y’all think it was deliberate?”

  “Calm down and hold your horses. I’m not saying that just yet.” The man walked with Kenya to the far side of the nosey crowd. “I’m just saying, off of the record, you and the owner might wanna start being prepared to answer a lot of questions.”

  Damn! Kenya bit her lower lip wondering who in the hell would do some old fucked-up bullshit like this.

  “One good thing, Miss Roberts, is that most of the main destruction is on the exterior cosmetics of the dwelling, but the structure itself is fine. As for the inside you have extensive smoke and water damage.”

  “Thank you.” Kenya took his card as she went back to sit in her car and placed a call to the insurance company as well as Storm.

  Sadly watching the trucks pull off one by one, Kenya got a pain in the pit of her belly. Since she’d been in town Alley Cats and all the people who worked there had been her life. Now it would be closed and worst of all Boz was dead. As the twenty-four-hour emergency board up team arrived Kenya got out the car to make sure all of the building was being secured properly. In the middle of her giving them instructions she was abruptly interrupted by two men in suits.

  “Hello, Miss Roberts. It’s a shame what happened. I hope you are covered.”

  “Yes, can I help you?” Kenya stepped back, unsure who these men were who knew her name.

  “Can we talk to you a minute?” Malloy politely asked.

  “About what? Who are you?” She did a double take because they seemed somewhat familiar.

  “About this unexpected fire and a few other things,” Kendrick said.

  “Do you know who could’ve started this fire? Does your boyfriend Tony Christian or his little brother have any enemies that you know of?” Malloy jumped back in.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Kenya put her hands on her hip and got double ghetto on they asses. “You can’t be no damn fire inspectors asking me no dumb shit like that!”

  “Miss.” Kendrick showed her his badge. “We’re from the police department and—”

  “And what? If you ain’t arresting my black-ass, then y’all can both get the fuck on!”

  “You act as if you’ve got something to hide. Did you know one of your employees got murdered last night?”

  “I think you two better get off my property before I call my lawyer!”

  “If you keep running around with the company you keep you’re gonna really have to call a lawyer.” Malloy returned the insult before heading back to the car with his partner.

  When the police left, Kenya nervously called Storm back telling him what just had gone down. After Alley Cats was boarded up securely, Kenya posted a huge sign that read CLOSED FOR REMODELING, and skirted off back to the condo to order the plane tickets for Detroit. In the middle of all the chaos that was going on, she couldn’t wait to get back to the town she called home.

  O.T.

  Instead of going back to the hotel where London was at, O.T. decided to crash at the apartment that he and Paris shared. He’d been back and forth there several times to pick up the mail and maybe get some more clothes but not to stay. As he shoved over a bunch of junk on the couch and sat down looking at the small amount of dope they took the night before, he felt almost sick to his core about Boz losing his life.

  He knew if his woman Paris hadn’t been on that insecure, jealous bullshit, Chocolate Bunny would be alive, Royce would not have been looking for her, there wouldn’t have been a beef, Boz would be home with his wife and kids, the connect would have still been pumping, and everybody would still be making that bread. But the way it stood now, there was no turning back. He and his brother and sister-in-law were all murderers and Paris was chilling in the nuthouse.

  O.T. barely closed his eyes when his cell phone rang. It was London asking him if he was okay. She knew she didn’t have the right to really question him where he slept or who he slept with; she was just concerned. After speaking to her briefly the phone rang once again.

  “Yeah, speak on it!”

  “What it do?”

  “Who this?” O.T. yawned.

  “Y’all motherfuckers tried to get down last night, huh? That ambush shit was real slick!”

  “Nigga, what?”

  “Yeah, but a pimp like me to slick for y’all!” It was obvious to O.T. that it was Marco on the line trying to go for bad. “But dig, I do wanna thank you for putting that old dog Royce out his misery. If I would’ve heard him whine about that dick sucker broad of his anymore I would’ve put one in his head my damn self! So straight-up good looking on that! I might let you and your brother live one more extra day for the favor!”

  “You’s a tough guy over the phone and shit, but y
ou can trust when I run up on you, you’s good as dead!”

  “Oh you mean dead as that slow-moving, can’t dodge a bullet goon, Boz?” Marco laughed showing no respect. “That fool hit the ground like an old sack of potatoes. Maybe I should go fuck his wife and play daddy to them kids of his!”

  “You’s a dead man!” O.T. vowed. “You betta watch over ya shoulder everywhere you go and hope the ho-ass cops catch up to you before I do!”

  Marco confidently blazed up a blunt and sat back amused with O.T.’s threats. “I don’t give a sweet fuck how many times they flash my picture on the news, them bitches ain’t gonna get with me! Shit!” he choked. “Or you neither! And by the way, tell your brother’s woman she looked fly as hell in the parking lot of Alley Cats.”

  “What?” O.T. furiously kicked the coffee table over in an insane rage. “What you say, nigga?”

  “Next time I’m gonna burn that spot down to the ground!” Marco swore. “And p.s., you faggot! That package y’all took, hell ya might get a few stacks out of it but real talk it got so much cut on it y’all’s dopefiend momma who I watched a dog fuck her in the ass this morning couldn’t snort it! I had to give her old ass three whole extra dollars to suck my dick, too! Cash!”

  “Bitch nigga, shut the fuck up!”

  “Damn, O.T.! I told ya momma that same shit when she was on her knees choking on this big black monster!”

  “Keep talking, but just know ya days are numbered!”

  Since he’d called anonymous O.T. had no way to call him back when he hung up, but it didn’t matter. Sooner or later the two would meet again.

  Chapter 10

  I Rep Detroit!

  With two months past since the drought was in effect, things were still at a desperate stage for the brothers. The fact that Royce was now out of the picture and his team disbanded meant nothing to the amount of pressure by officials and lawmakers that was still on strong to stop any narcotics from entering their city and neighboring communities. Storm and O.T. alike had both been hauled off to the police station for questioning, but any small, minute evidence they had linking them to any crime was just speculation at best.

 

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