Gangstress
Page 10
“That’s for sure.” He kissed me again and headed back to the SUV. “Where you going?”
“I need to go check on a shipment.” I unlocked the new chrome Altima I’d purchased a few days ago. Alicia begged me to get a Lexus to match hers, but I wasn’t into the flashy shit. My ass wasn’t trying to draw no more attention to myself than I currently had.
“You doing it big, ma, but just be careful,” he warned before pulling off. Ace was overprotective and always worried about this or that when it came to me out on the streets. Call me young and naïve, but I couldn’t give two fucks about some hater lurking in the distance waiting to steal my shine.
My and Ali’s hustle was doing numbers. There were so many packages coming that we had to set up shop at five more vacant homes across the city. I recruited a few more crackheads to sign for the merchandise, and business was running smooth. As long as I was getting money, I would always have haters. They were part of the game. Being fearless eventually might have been my downfall, but fear would never be the reason I went bankrupt.
Chapter Thirty-two
I pulled up at the park across from the delivery house and cut the engine. I surveyed the area, and all was well. I glanced at the time on my cell phone and noted that the UPS truck should be pulling up any minute. With time to spare, I dialed Gran.
“Praise the Lord,” she answered.
“Hey, Gran. How have you been?” I reclined in my seat and clutched the phone between my ear and shoulder. Ever since my last runaway at the courthouse, Gran and I seemed to have come to some sort of understanding. She didn’t want me to be locked away, but she did want to know that I was doing the right thing while out of her presence. As long as I checked in with her on a regular basis, she stayed off my ass.
“I’m just blessed, Janie. How about you?”
I rolled my eyes toward the sky, but my voice remained steady. “I’m cool, Gran. Just working, that’s all.”
“That’s good. I was so happy when you called and told me you got a job.” She sounded genuinely happy, and I knew it was because she didn’t know what kind of job it was.
“Do you need anything?” I watched the truck pull up.
“No, baby, I’m fine.” She sighed. “Did you decide if you were going to come back home yet?” Gran coughed.
“No, ma’am. I’m going to stay with Ali.”
“Are her parents okay with that? I don’t want those folks thinking of you as a burden.”
“Yeah, it’s cool. I’m only there a little while longer, and then I graduate.” There was no need to raise her blood pressure and tell her about my condo, so I didn’t. I knew after the first stunt she pulled by calling the cops, the less Gran knew, the better.
“When are you coming by here so I can see you?”
“Soon,” I replied as I scoped the argument ensuing between Donna and the deliveryman.
“Janelle, you say that all—”
“Gran, I’ve got to go. I’ll be there soon, I promise.” I hated cutting her off and ending the call so rudely, but I needed to see what was going on with Donna. The deliveryman had her pinned up against the side of the house by the throat.
Stepping from the car, I raced toward the commotion. “What are you doing? Get your hands off of her!” I pulled on his arm.
“You think I don’t know what’s going on over here?” He let Donna go and turned his attention toward me. “I’ve delivered in this area for three years, and this house has always been vacant. All of a sudden a crackhead shows up and begins to receive packages every week. I’m no rocket scientist, but I know there’s some illegal shit going on.”
“Calm down with that illegal nonsense.” I smacked my lips.
“I should call the police right now.” He reached into his pocket, but I stopped him.
“Look, what will it take to make you look the other way?” I gave him an icy stare that told him I meant business.
“I don’t want no part of this.” He shook his head and looked around like someone was watching.
“Everybody wants a piece of the pie. Just name your price and it’s yours.” I folded my arms. I watched the white man turn beet red as sweat dripped from his forehead. What he didn’t know was I had done my research and knew he had a gambling debt on the streets. He had taken a second loan on his house and was upside down in the financial department. “Name the price and all of your problems are solved,” I provoked him.
“Ten thousand,” he blurted out, and I almost laughed but kept my composure.
“Is that the best you can do? Dream bigger!”
“Fifteen thousand?” he asked like he was unsure and looked to me for reassurance.
“That sounds fair, Neal. Fifteen it is then.”
“You’re just gonna give me all of that money right here, right now?”
“Of course I didn’t come out of the house with fifteen racks!” I yelled. “But let’s meet tonight at Belle Isle, and I got you.” I smiled the sweetest smile I had.
“Belle Isle?” He looked skeptical. “Why there?”
“Come on, Neal, I know you’ve caught a few gangster movies and you know how this works.” I played it cool, and he laughed at my joke. “I can’t be coming to your crib or have you come to mine. We need to meet at a mutual spot.”
“Okay.” He nodded and relaxed a bit. “I get off my shift at six.”
“Cool, that gives me four hours to get your money.” I glanced at my watch. “Meet me by the zoo entrance at seven. Oh, and I’ll need your ID until we meet again.”
“I’m not giving you my license. Are you crazy?”
“You will give it to me if you want that fifteen thousand.” I held my hand out. After a minute of contemplation, Neal handed over his license. I swear he had to be the dumbest fucker in Detroit.
“Are you going to kill me?” He looked from me to Donna, who was as high as a kite.
“I’m not going to kill you, Neal. I’m putting you on payroll.” I laughed.
“What if I don’t want to be on payroll?”
“The chump change you make as a deliveryman can’t afford you the lifestyle you’ve always wanted, right? Well, if you look out for me on my deliveries, I’ll look out for you.” I winked and headed to my car. Stopping halfway, I turned. “You have to keep this little secret between us, because if anyone finds out about my operation, then I will kill you.”
Chapter Thirty-three
“Are you fucking serious?” Alicia paced back and forth after I told her about my run-in with Neal.
“Chill. I got this handled.” On the way home, I had already called one of my goons and told him to head over and check Neal’s house out.
“You better hope you do have this handled, because this man could drop a dime on us and fuck this whole thing up.”
Before I could continue the conversation with Alicia, my cell phone rang. “Hello.”
“Yeah, we at the spot and it’s empty. Your dude lives with his old lady and a dog, but no kids.” JJ spoke in a hushed tone.
“Okay, sit tight and wait for my instruction.” I ended the call and turned my attention back to Alicia. “Like I said, it’s covered.”
At seven o’clock on the dot, I walked up to the vacant zoo entrance and found Neal waiting patiently inside his gray Ford Five Hundred. He was still dressed in his brown uniform, which told me he came straight from work. Tap. Tap. I knocked lightly on the car window with my knuckles. After he unlocked the vehicle and let me inside, I instructed him to pull into an empty parking space.
“Let’s make this quick!” he demanded.
“No problem.” I reached into my duffle bag, and he jerked. “What the hell?” I asked.
“I thought that was a gun.” He grabbed his chest. I was willing to bet money that the nigga had just wet himself.
“You need to calm down.” I pulled out his driver’s license and handed it back to him.
“I’m nervous! Wouldn’t you be?”
“There is a police station
on this island. If I were up to something shady, why would I meet you here?” I looked at him sideways.
“You’re right. I forgot about that.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Just then I heard a computer’s voice demanding that we speak louder for further recording.
“For real, Neal? You’re recording this?” I was pissed off at myself for not seeing this coming.
“I . . . I . . .” he stuttered.
“I was trying to be nice and put some money in your pocket, and this is what you do?” I lied. The truth was I had no intention of giving this man a dollar. Initially, I regretted having to kill him, but now he’d just made things much easier.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“Too late, game over!” I yelled and erased the recording from his phone.
“Please understand where I was coming from and forgive me,” he begged with tears in his eyes.
I sighed. “Fine, I forgive you. Now let’s get down to business. First things first, I need you to write something for me.” I handed him a piece of paper and a pen.
“Okay, I’m ready.” He put on his glasses.
“I’m sorry,” I said aloud, and he wrote.
“I’m sorry about what?” He looked up at me just in time to see me pull out a .22-caliber handgun with my gloved hand. “If I don’t come home in two hours my wife will call the police,” he threatened.
“Call your wife.” I shoved his cell phone back at him.
“No!” He shook his head. “I’ll kill you dead with my bare hands before I do that.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m sure you’d like to check on her and make sure she’s still breathing.”
“Oh, my God!” He immediately grabbed the phone and dialed home.
“Neal?” A woman’s weary voice spoke through the speakerphone. She had been crying and was obviously in distress. “What have you done to us?”
“Sharon sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Neal cried.
“For years, I’ve begged you to get help for your gambling addiction, and now it’s come to this.” She was tired of dealing with his nonsense, I could tell.
“Sharon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for messing up everything. Your parents were right. You should’ve married that lawyer instead of the likes of me.” Neal knew this was the last time he would ever speak to his wife, so I let him get everything off his chest. “I’m the reason we don’t have any children. I’m the reason that the home your parents left you is going back to the bank. I’m the reason our marriage is failing, Sharon. My whole life I’ve been a screw-up.” He smirked. “The only thing I’ve done right is loving you.”
“I love you, Neal.” Sharon sniffed back some tears.
“I love you more, Sharon. I always have.” By now the floodgates opened, and Neal was inconsolable. He dropped the phone into his lap and laid his head on the steering wheel. Just then my cell phone rang. It was JJ.
“All right, boss lady, it’s your call.”
“You know what to do.” I looked over at Neal and felt somewhat bad. “It’s time to lay that bitch down.” And just like that, we heard a pop.
“No!” Neal cried as I handed him the gun.
“Your turn.”
He stared at the gun and then back at me like he wanted to blow my head off.
“You have nothing left to live for, so what good would it do you to shoot me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You’re right.” He nodded, and I let myself out of his car. Before I had even closed the door good, I heard the shot that sent Neal to meet his Maker.
Glancing back inside the car, I saw blood and flesh everywhere. His eyes were wide open, but the back of his head was missing.
Chapter Thirty-four
“This is WDIV, and I am Carla Hartsfield.” A reporter for the eleven o’clock news appeared on the television as Ace and I lay in bed. “We have breaking news coming from the city’s east side tonight, where apparently a couple far in financial debt has committed suicide. Donald Martin in on the scene with the latest.”
At the mention of the familiar story, I grabbed the remote and turned the volume up on the fifty-inch television mounted to the wall.
“Well, Carla, I’m standing here in front of this two-story home on the thirteen hundred block of Charlevoix where police responded to reports of gunfire. Neighbors say at approximately eight o’clock, they heard multiple gunshots coming from this home behind me. The victim’s name has been released as Sharon Duncan. When police officers responded to the call, they found an apology letter written for her husband, but here is the kicker.” He paused. “Police officers also responded to gunfire on Belle Isle around the same time. Upon responding, they found a male victim slumped over the steering of his vehicle with a gunshot wound to the head. By his side were a cell phone and an apology note. Detectives called the last number the deceased man dialed, and it rang at the house you see behind me. It was later determined that the victims were husband and wife. Although this appears to be a suicide in both cases, neighbors and family members are outraged and calling for some type of action.”
“Neal and Sharon had their whole lives ahead of them, so why would they commit suicide?” some woman cried as they flashed a previous interview with her. “She just told me yesterday that she was taking Neal to Florida for their anniversary. People with those types of plans don’t commit suicide.” The news then switched to a clip of an interview with yet another woman. I knew she had to be their neighbor because she was standing there in a bathrobe and rollers.
“Sharon didn’t commit suicide.” She puffed on a Virginia Slim cigarette.
“And how do you know this, ma’am?” the reporter quizzed.
“Because I heard two gunshots instead of one. How in the Sam Hill can someone shoot them self twice?”
At the mention of the neighbor’s revelation, I turned the television off and tried to calm my stomach. I’d specifically told these fools how to murk the bitch and make it look like an accident, but evidently, the plan went sideways, and someone switched the game up. “Shit!” I cursed under my breath.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Ace asked without opening his eyes. He was pretending not to be asleep, but the painkillers my neighbor had him taking were like dope.
“It’s nothing. I just have stomach pains. Go back to sleep.” I patted his arm and stood from the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Over to Alicia’s room to see if she has any medicine.” I closed the door behind me and hustled across the house.
“Alicia, this is fucked up.” I stormed in without knocking, but the room was empty. The bitch had the nerve to be on a booty call when I needed her most. “Damn!” I sat on her bed and collected my thoughts for just a second.
Instantly, I sprang to my feet and grabbed a pair of her gym shoes. After slipping them on, I went to retrieve my purse and cell phone then sprinted to the door. On my way out, I called JJ and told him to meet me in the parking lot of Fairbanks Elementary. It was one of many of the abandoned schools in Detroit.
Chapter Thirty-five
I had to have been pissed to leave the house with a tank top and a pair of pajama shorts on, but it was what it was. These niggas had me so heated I couldn’t wait on the inside of the car, so I waited on the hood, attempting to let the cool night air calm my nerves.
As soon as I spotted the green Cadillac pulling up, I went ham. “I told your dumb asses what needed to be done. I gave you the whole plan piece by piece, and we went over it three times. What happened?”
“Man, the bitch told her dog to attack me.” JJ puffed on a Newport cigarette. “I raised my gun, prepared to off the Rottweiler, but she jumped in the way.”
“Where did you shoot her at, JJ?” I massaged my temples, trying to figure why his ass didn’t lock the dog up when he first got there.
“I shot her in the arm and then in the head.” He tossed the cigarette butt.
“Who else knows what you did tonight?” I folded my arms.
“Nobody knows but me and you, fam, I swear,” he pleaded.
“Did you cover your tracks back at her house?”
“Yup.” He nodded. “I wore rubber gloves, wrapped plastic around my gym shoes, and set the scene up to look like a suicide.”
“All right, fam.” I gave him a dap. “There ain’t nothin’ we can do about it now. Just sit tight for a while. I’ll be in touch.” I headed toward my car, and he headed toward his. Before he opened his door, I called his name. As soon as he turned to see what I wanted, he saw my gun. Boom. Boom. Two shots dropped that nigga where he stood, and I pulled off like it was nothing.
I was back in the bed before my spot had gotten cold and Ace was none the wiser. Sleep didn’t come easy that night because I tossed and turned until the crack of dawn. By the time I had dozed off, my stomach had woken me back up and I was vomiting.
“Shit!” I lay on the bathroom floor, balled up like a baby. I’d been throwing up off and on for two weeks now. I knew what the deal was, although I desperately wished it was something else.
“You need to see a doctor,” Ace spoke from the doorway. He was topless with white gauze wrapped around his abdomen and gray basketball shorts on.
“I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.” I sat up and placed my back against the wall.
“Janie, are you sure?”
I nodded, on the verge of tears. He stepped into the bathroom and sat down beside me. “I missed my period.”
“Come here.” He pulled me toward him and cradled me. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry.”
“I’m too young to have a baby.”
“All things happen for a reason.” He rubbed my hair. “A baby is a beautiful thing. Your parents are gone and so are mine. With this baby, we can start our own family.” This baby situation was right up his alley, but I was glad to have him here to comfort me. Most girls my age who give their boyfriends this type of news would end their relationship.
“You’re right.” I sniffed. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”