by Chris Green
After observing Bang, wipe down most things that were touched. Stone stepped closer to the district attorney, grabbing his shoulder.
“We’re hoping that we don’t see you anytime soon. I’m gonna keep this little evidence close to me just in case someone tries to appear at Ms. Rivers’ court date. I think we have an understanding, right?”
“Yes,” he mumbled with an incoherent expression.
“Good, you have a good night, Mr. Edwards,” Stone said, as he and Bang made their way out of the home.
***
Six Flags Drive
“Stepping through the door of the medium sized two bedroom safe house, Justin wrinkled up his nose as Courtney came in behind him securing the locks.
“I would have rather stayed at the hotel,” he mumbled, heading into the living area.
“Well, unfortunately I don’t have a choice but to follow protocol and that says to switch it up every two days on where we house you. You’ll be fine for forty-eight hours,” she said moving past him.
Staring at her round behind and healthy thighs, he licked his lips as she sat on the opposite couch across from him. Adjusting her holstered Glock 40 handgun, she removed her black backpack, sitting it on the glass table in front of her.
“The bathroom is down the hall on the right. And the guest room sits directly next to it. There are some things you can eat or cook in the kitchen,” Courtney said before pulling out a paperback book and crossing her legs.
“What are you reading?” he asked trying to spark a conversation.
Rolling her eyes, she huffed before answering. “The Cuban Affair by Nelson Demille.”
“What’s that supposed to be like some drug empire shit?”
“No, it’s more of a suspense novel, borderline mystery mixed with a few real life statistics.”
“That shit sounds boring. I would’ve thought you’d like Urban or something like Romance.”
“I’ve never been too tough on black novels.”
“What? Urban is the best thing smoking. You ain’t never read a Ca$h novel? Leo Sullivan? Nene Capri?”
“I’ve skimmed through a few. Over the years my mind has grown to like a variety of things besides my Black culture, I would say,” she replied, bending two fingers for emphasis.
“Sitting in the Feds for ten years, you would grow to like Urban. It’s more of relating to the things that brought you up, you know. Sometimes it’s like I be right there in the book when they spilling those true poetic scenes of a Black person’s life. Some books I read it kinda felt like they was telling my story. It takes you somewhere different, it’s like you ain’t even incarcerated no more,” Justin said having a small flashback.
“I guess I wouldn’t know,” she said jumping back into her book.
“I still never got the chance to take you out on that date I asked for a while back.”
“Justin, that was over eleven years ago and you must have forgot you had to leave for a while cause you wanted to be like the books you read in prison.”
Chuckling, he nodded his head. “That was a low blow. It was never my intention to go to prison, Courtney. All of us didn’t have a silver platter every night when we ate dinner, sweetheart.”
Courtney sat her book on the table and crossed her arms. “Let’s get something straight. If you’re referring to my mother and father’s money, you can flush that out of your head. Last time I checked I was shaking my ass next to your sister just to pay for college. No one gave me anything,” she clarified with an angry expression.
“I mean just like you say, I guess I wouldn’t know. You had a boyfriend that couldn’t stop putting his hands on you. Then you disappeared to another state and return a full blown agent. Maybe if I would’ve got that one chance to be in your life we could’ve helped each other out with those differences, huh?”
“Maybe you need to take a nap to refresh your mind about a different subject,” she shot back, picking up her book.
Smiling, he knew her buttons were being pushed.
“I don’t mean to make you upset and I apologize if you feel disrespected in any way. I just want you to remember that you also have a past, Courtney. Nobody is perfect,” he said with a sincere tone.
“As I told you before, I’ve never tried to be perfect. I chose to suffer with the sacrifices I’ve made to get to the position I’m in now. Regardless of how anyone sees me, I’m the only one who can judge that reflection in the mirror. Not you or anyone else.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Allah always has the last decision in things. Even when we make the choice for ourselves. In a certain light, I admire you for what you did. You actually found a path that you truly desired and you made it your reality. That’s a beautiful thing to see. I might not be too happy with the whole agent in front of your name, but I accept it.”
“We all have to learn how to let certain things take their course. You, Rinesha, even me. When that time comes, life will began to pour a lot smoother for us all.”
Standing to his feet, Justin smirked. “For some reason, I have a hard time accepting that from you.”
“Why? It’s the truth,” she stated.
“I never said it wasn’t. I just think you have a problem following your own theory. I remember a time when you had your course set.”
“Really? And when was that?”
“Eleven years ago when you said you loved me,” he replied, walking off towards the guest room.
As Courtney sat there fighting off his words with silence Justin turned around and stared at her gorgeous red face.
“Good night,” he mumbled before disappearing through the dark hallway.
Chapter 14
Gwinnett County 7:30 am
After dialing Stone’s number, Torez placed the phone to his ear while waiting patiently for an answer.
“Who’s this?”
“Mr. Stone?”
“I said, who is this?”
“I presume that I am speaking with the right person, since you continue to repeat the same shit anyway!” Torez spoke in more of an aggravated tone.
“That all depends on who’s on the other end of my fucking line.”
Sliding a hand through his medium length goatee, Torez smiled before standing to his feet.
“The name is Torez.”
“Alright, Torez, what can I do for you?” Stone questioned.
“You can tell me what the fuck happened to my son, motherfucker.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Now maybe you were looking for a number down to Mexico or Brazil cause I think you called the wrong person,” Stone replied through the phone in a smooth voice.
“Not according to your brother, Shakur, my friend. A couple of nights ago my son Hector was killed in this punta’s auntie’s home. It’s amazing to me that you say you don’t know, when he says you’re the one who pulled the trigger. Now I’ll be very brief because me don’t do a lot of back and forth. We can meet to discuss this problem like grown men because quite frankly, I’m ready to kill everyone associated with him and you.”
“First of all, you’ve been lied to. Shakur is trying to do whatever he can to get away from the large ticket that has been placed on his head. Everyone and their mother is out looking for him to put a bullet in between his eyes. Now I’m kind of positive on how all this took place. Feel free to stop me if you hear something incorrect. He came to you pleading for mercy because you heard that he was behind your son’s death. Being that you listened it gave him the opportunity for him to throw the blame on someone he happens to be running from. I’m sorry to say it, Torez, but you’ve been tricked,” Stone stated with a convincing story.
“Is that so? And what is the price for him?”
“Eight hundred grand, but if you’re speaking in our language, twenty uncut keys of heroin.”
Hearing the extreme numbers made Torez’ palm itch instantly. A man of his caliber didn’t get to a certain degree from being stupid an
d if someone was willing to place eighty percent of a million in dope on your head, the reason had to be critical.
“How can I be sure that this bounty is authentic?” Torez asked, ready to throw Shakur under the bus for the healthy payday.
“Easy, you can go and shoot the man in the head for murdering your son and kill a problem for me also, and I can keep my product. Or you can bring the son of a bitch to me, receive your dope and watch me execute the man who took your seed in front of you. It’s your choice.” Stone gave the option, waiting on an answer.
“When I’m ready I’ll give the call, homes,” he responded before hanging up.
Stone placed the phone back in his pocket and inhaled deeply. He knew for a fact that mind games were easy when it came to simple people. The small word was spreading around that Torez was lurking for him because of the death of his son. Knowing that Shakur would pull a coward move he was already two steps ahead of the game. There was nothing like a little paperwork to bribe most people into doing anything. A man would be willing to break his neck or even tell on his mother to receive twenty kilos of pure dog food.
Crossing another task off his list, he prepared himself for the next. Finding Justin to show him that disloyalty was unforgivable.
***
Overlook Atlanta
“Yo, Slick?” Tremaine called out, making his way through the apartment door.
The untidy living room caused him to stop in his tracks.
“Bro, what the fuck do you got going on?” he questioned as Slick rounded the hallway corner.
Tremaine was an old associate, who would practically be down for whatever cause until Slick got the big head leaving him behind in the hood to hustle crumbs. Even though he was fumed about how he was treated, he never forgot, but forgave for the sake of being a good nigga. After seeing Slick moving slyly around the hood for the past few days, he couldn’t help but link up.
“Shh! Come in and lock the door. Did anybody follow you?” he asked with a paranoid look on his face.
“Nigga, you tripping. I told you I would be back in thirty minutes after I ran to the store and got the shit you ask me for. What the hell happened to the living room? It look like a tornado flew through this motherfucker,” he replied, locking the door.
“I know my mind ain’t playing tricks on me, my nigga. I keep hearing this fucking clicking sound every five minutes. It’s like it’s gets louder and louder and I still can’t find it. I tore this bitch up and still don’t know how I’m moving past it,” Slick said with a serious expression.
Listening for a few seconds, silence loomed through the air causing Tremaine to look at him awkwardly.
“Are you alright, bro? You not acting like yourself.”
“Hell nah, I’m not aite! That bitch is trying to get me killed, I know it.”
“Who are you talking about?” he asked, turning a chair over to its right side so he could take a seat.
“You know who!”
“No, the fuck I don’t, bro. That’s why I’m asking. You ain’t said nothing to me about nobody trying to get you spilled, bruh,” Tremaine stated while lighting a Newport.
Looking around clueless, he stepped closer before speaking as if someone was eavesdropping.
“Reesess.”
Staring with a raised eyebrow, Tremaine burst into a fit of laughter and pulled an ounce of marijuana out of his pocket.
“Nigga, you done lost your rabid ass mind. You think your niece is trying to whack you? Bruh, what the fuck have you been smoking?”
“Laugh that shit up, nigga. I ain’t motherfucking crazy. That bitch put a hit on my head for all types of money. Everywhere I motherfucking go nigga’s busting at me and shit. I can’t trust nobody. I think she the reason I keep hearing these voices,” he stressed with animosity flowing through his veins.
Sitting down his blunt, Tremaine could see the trouble in his eyes. It was unlike Slick, a true gangsta by nature to fear anything or anyone. But the story he was hearing just didn’t add up.
“Why in the fuck would little Rinesha want you dead?”
“That’s what the fuck I want to know. Word going around that I had something to do with her mom and bitch ass daddy coming up dead. If I did that shit I’d be man enough to motherfucking say it,” he lied, reaching for the cigarette in Tremaine’s hand.
Pulling on the nicotine like his life depended on it, Tremaine continued to twist up the weed.
“I ain’t even gone lie, Slick, a lot of shit was going around saying that you got rid of Jimmie about some paper. You know I don’t believe that mess, but you know how the streets spread rumors, bro. You can’t let that shit get to you.”
“How could you kill your own mother?”
Slick heard the creaky voice whisper lightly in his ear. Jumping as if he was struck with a bullet, he pulled his pistol, ready to fire.
“I know you heard that!” he yelled, looking at Tremaine.
Raising his hands slowly, he leaned back in the chair.
“Bro! Put the gun down. You spazzing right now. You my dog, but I think you need some help. Just let me call somebody to take you down to the hospital.”
“If you thinking about picking up a phone, I will blow yo shit across the room. Get up and get the fuck out. Now!” he demanded.
Rising out the seat, Tremaine dropped the blunt from his mouth and backed up until he reached the front door. Opening it up, he stepped out, closing it lightly behind him.
Locking it, Slick posted against the door frame with his eyes roaming back and forth. His heart almost came to a halt after hearing the annoying clicking sounds run through his eardrum. Covering them with his hands, Jimmie’s voice spoke directly to him loud and clear.
“I thought I was your brother!”
The spooky tone sent him over the edge, making his gun erupt out of fear.
Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc!
Running towards the bathroom he tripped hitting the floor and quickly stumbled back to his feet. Getting inside he slammed the door nearly knocking the hinges loose.
The torment of his dirty deeds were starting to kick in harder than ever. All he could envision was the bloody faces of murdered family members haunting him every second. He knew that it was only a sign that his time was coming. His mind was already made up. Before he died by Reesess' hand, he would take his own soul instead of giving her the satisfaction of seeing him lose this treacherous game.
***
Two days later
Lincoln Cemetery
Sitting in front of Salim’s closed casket, Stone couldn’t help but shed a few tears for his fallen Muslim brother. It had been a journey for them both, but his vow was to always protect the younger Ahks from all harm. Spending time in prison with them all, he learned and understood life better. There was a difference between the ones who stood by you and the ones who genuinely loved you from the heart. Money, protection and numerous other miscellaneous things could get most men to stand by your side and have not an ounce of respect or love for you. Moving through the struggles together with nothing, built a bond and brotherhood that would last forever.
Reciting the funeral prayer and offering Dua for the brother, his cell rang after he stood to his feet. Observing the unknown digits, he answered.
“Speak.”
“Mr. Stone, I figured that we can resolve this issue today. We can meet at a place of your choice,” Torez spoke through the receiver.
“I’ll text you the address in five minutes,” he replied, ending the call.
It was amazing how the power of Allah worked when pain was troubling one of his children. He always found a way to ease it.
Making it back to the car, he got in and looked over at Reeses and Laylah.
“I found Shakur,” he said, before cranking the car and pulling off.
***
Sitting behind the abandoned elementary school, Stone and the girls waited patiently to see if Torez would show up.
“How do we know that these Mexi
cans aren’t trying to ambush us? We’re sitting here with twenty kilos of heroin and we don’t even know if they have Shakur for sure,” Reeses said making sense.
“Because Mexicans are thirsty when it comes to money, baby. They won’t fuck up any chance they have to get a come up. Especially when you’re talking about dope,” Stone clarified with surety.
“He’s definitely right. Most of the Mexicans me and Mariah have dealt with are straight un-cut business. If it has anything to do with money their attention locks in like a child on candy.”
“Speaking of the devil,” Stone said watching the two Durango trucks pull inside the parking lot.
“Maybe we should see what they do first,” Reeses said, a little paranoid.
“Fuck that. We’re getting out. If anyone of them makes the wrong move they’ll die before they can blink twice,” Laylah stated calmly.
Trusting her cousin’s judgment Stone grabbed the large duffel off the floor as all three of them stepped out of the car, guns in hand.
As the Durango’s came to a halt, Torez and four armed Mexicans stepped out with Shakur directly behind them.
Looking back at Shakur, Torez motioned for him to step forward.
“This is the man that you say killed my son, correct?” he asked in a displeased manner.
“Yes, that’s him,” Shakur mouthed, looking over at Stone.
Stepping forward, Torez shook his head. “Do you have what we agreed on?”
Hearing the question caused Shakur’s stomach to plunge in fear as he stared at Torez with a confused face.
Opening the bag, Stone dug inside pulling out one of the raw squares and tossed it over. Watching one of the goons pick it up, he began to examine it. Sticking a knife through the tough plastic, he looked at Torez, nodding his head.
Smiling, his henchmen picked up the duffel as he walked away.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Shakur asked, watching the men load up to leave.