Blood 4 Blood

by Willie Slaughter

  “Ms. James, step out of the vehicle,” the younger police demanded.

  “For what?” she asked. He ignored Renika and opened the door.

  “I said get your ass out of the vehicle, now!” he demanded in a hostile tone.

  As soon as Renika put one foot on the pavement, all hell broke loose. Two unmarked sedans pulled up and four masked men hopped out and opened fire on the police officers. They didn’t have time to react to the assault. The gunmen gunned them down, jumped back in the cars, and sped away in the opposite direction.

  Renika casually eased her leg back inside and closed the door and drove off like nothing ever happened.

  ***

  Nicole and Mark were living their best life. Italy proved to be the home of homes, especially with Demetri and Thaddeus only an estate over. The four of them had brunch together every day, during which they made plans for future events. Like now, Mark and Nicole were being entertained by the twins.

  “Mark and Nicole, what would you two have me do for you?” Demetri asked.

  Mark looked at his wife, Nicole, who had a sly grin on her face. He knew she wasn’t going to give up the opportunity to get something out of her uncle.

  “Well, since you put it like that, Uncle, I need my own private jet,” Nicole said.

  Demetri’s eyes widened with surprise. “You definitely know how to ask big, Nicole.”

  “I’m just saying, Uncle. You asked,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear. “Besides, you never know when you are going to need to fly around on business. Right, Mark?”

  Mark nodded his head in agreement with his wife. Demetri and Thaddeus looked at each other. They were really trying to decide who would foot the bill. Nicole realized they were having a hard time coming to a conclusion, so she offered a solution.

  “Uncles Demetri and Uncle Thaddeus, why don’t you go in half and half to buy my private jet? That way, nobody feels like they didn’t do their part,” Nicole said.

  Thaddeus sighed resolutely. “Seems like we’ve reached a conclusion. Alright, Nicole, you’ll get your private jet.”

  Mark couldn’t help but laugh. His wife definitely knew how to get her way. Not that he himself didn’t respond to her the same, because he did.

  “It seems like Nicole wins again,” Mark said.

  Nicole kissed Mark on the left side of his face. “Aww, baby, it’s a natural thing for me.”

  They sat, talking about upcoming business that they would be summoned to handle privately. Mark and his wife listened attentively to what Demetri was saying. Everything they did for the family took perfect timing and skill. It was definitely a big step up from what Mark was accustomed to.

  After everything was finalized and Nicole had proven she’d heard the details of the contract correctly, she and Mark left.

  Chapter Three

  Cedric was sitting in the federal holding facility, waiting to be transferred. For the most part, everyone seemed on the nice side to him, which he considered to be because of his high profile case more than his build and appearance. He was 6'3” and 215 pounds solid.

  Cedric always found himself sitting off to the side no matter what was going on. His first day inside the pen had taught him that. One of the guys who'd come in with him had been made as an informant of the Feds, so after the word had gotten around to the right social circle, three of the inmates shanked him up good. According to the officer, he didn't survive through the night.

  The lifespan of a rat, Cedric thought to himself while looking at CNN. There was a breaking news report, reporting the shooting deaths of two on-duty deputies. No leads in the case. He was so into the story that he would've missed chow call if it wasn't for the brother who always lagged around until everyone else was gone.

  “Say, li’l homie, it's chow call. Trust me, you ain't going to miss shit. That's CNN. Same shit on repeat around the clock,” the man said.

  Cedric got up off the stainless steel bench that provided little to no comfort. “Good looking, bro,” he said, thanking the man.

  “My nigga, we're locked up. If we can't look out for each other, who else do we think going to do it?” the man replied before extending his right hand in Cedric's direction. “I'm Montana.”

  Cedric took hold of his hand with a firm grip. “The name is Cedric, but you can call me Ced.”

  “That's what's up, my nigga. Let's get this grub before we be eating out of the box tonight. A nigga getting money, but ain't no need of turning down shit they got to offer,” Montana said.

  Cedric nodded. “I feel you, bro. Let's go.”

  Montana and Cedric walked out of the cellblock together. They made small talk about sports and politics on the way to the chow hall. While they waited in line to get their trays, they kept quiet and focused their attention on the environment. It was known to go down at chow call, especially at the morning and last meal.

  The line moved quickly. Montana and Cedric picked a table in the corner by the wall to eat at. It was the third Wednesday of the month, so it was fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes with gravy, pound cake, and sweet tea for dinner.

  “So, what's your story, my nigga?” asked Montana between bites.

  “I got caught down bad with the work, bro,” Cedric replied.

  Montana finished eating the piece of chicken he was working on. “You don't look like a dope boy, my nigga.” He said and looked up at Cedric. “Matter of fact, you look square as hell, but looks can trick a nigga.”

  Cedric laughed. “On the real, I'm a college graduate, had a lot of shit going for myself. Not to mention, I was engaged before this bullshit came up.”

  Montana raised his right eyebrow. “In other words, you took the fall for your bitch.”

  “No, it wasn't like that, bro,” Cedric shot back quickly.

  A smirk spread across Montana's face. He'd heard it all before. “It's all good, my nigga. You ain't the first, and definitely won't be the last to take the rap for his bitch. I just hope she's a Bonnie about the situation.”

  “Hell yeah,” Cedric said confidently.

  “How much time you looking at?” Asked Montana.

  “At least a dub,” Cedric answered and started back on his meal.

  Montana almost choked on the chicken. He drank half of his tea to wash the chicken down. “My nigga, who got you sprung like that?”

  “Renika James,” Cedric said happily.

  Montana was dumbfounded. “Do you know her parents?”

  “I got to meet her mother,” Cedric replied. He looked up at Montana and could see the uneasiness within his posture. “Are you alright, bro?”

  “Yeah, I'm good, my nigga,” Montana said. He got up from the table. “Listen, li’l homie, I'll catch up with you back in the dorm.”

  “Alright, bro,” Cedric said without looking up from the tray before him.

  Montana took his tray to the tray window and left the chow hall. On his way to the dorm, he stopped and told the guard in the booth that he needed to speak with the superintendent immediately. The guard eyed him nonchalantly as he picked up the cordless phone and called up front. He relayed the message and waited for the response, which we came, the guard ended the call.

  “Go on up, front inmate. Mr. Cartwright is waiting on you,” the guard said.

  Montana didn't respond, not even to tell him thank you. He hurried up front, where the superintendent met him outside of his office. Montana's paranoia outlined his presence.

  “Is everything okay with you, inmate?” Cartwright said, laughing. It was always humorous to see the so-called hardcore inmates under pressure.

  Montana slid off into the office and remained standing. “Why do I feel like I've been set up?” Montana asked nervously.

  Cartwright stepped back into his office and closed the door. He was really getting a kick out of seeing Montana sweat. “What's the problem, Montana? You look like you've stepped in a litter of cat shit.”

  “Man, y'all set me up. Li'l Will's future fucking son-in
-law is in the dorm with me,” he said coldly.

  The superintendent took a seat behind his desk and hunched his shoulders in an I-don't-care gesture. “And? It's obvious he don't know who you are or what you've done. My advice to you is, keep it that way because your ass ain't getting any special treatment.”

  “So, it's like that, huh? Y'all use a nigga and send his ass to the cleaner,” Montana said bitterly.

  Cartwright waved him off. “Inmate, you can take your scary ass back down the hallway.”

  Montana wanted to snap back, but he knew better. He'd heard stories of how Cartwright got down. Piss him off, and he would piss and shit on you, Montana recalled an inmate telling him when he'd asked about Cartwright. “You're right, Mr. Cartwright, he can't know. If he did, I'd be on the slab by now.”

  “Exactly, Montana. Now leave my office,” he demanded.

  Montana opened the door and left. What the superintendent said made a lot of sense, however, not enough sense to make him comfortable, he thought while walking back to the dorm. Just so happened when the officer in the booth popped the door for him and he walked in, Cedric was on the wall phone. That didn't make the situation any better to Montana.

  He let the door slam shut behind him. His thoughts were running wild and his eyes darted from left to right while he walked across the day room floor. Montana went inside of his cell, put the window flap up, and locked the door. He laid flat on his stomach on the floor next to the foot of the bunk and reached with his right hand to the rear corner.

  Montana retrieved the shank he had hidden under his bunk and concealed it in the waistline of his trouser under his shirt. Feeling a lot more on the safe side, he popped his door open. To his surprise, Cedric was standing at his door about to knock.

  “What's up, my nigga? Everything good at the crib?” Montana asked.

  “Yeah, bro, everything is looking good. My lawyer filed my appeal. He said I have a good chance to knock off 5 to 10 years,” Cedric replied.

  “That's what's up, li’l homie. Did you talk to your wifey?” asked Montana.

  “Briefly, but yeah. She's taking it kind of hard,” Cedric said.

  “Look at the bright side, my nigga, you got a rider on your team,” Montana said. He was looking for any flaw within Cedric's movement or speech, but there was none. The tension he'd been feeling started to dissolve.

  “Yeah, I'm blessed in that department, bro. On the serious tip, I was just checking up on you, making sure you were good,” Cedric said honestly.

  “Most definitely, li’l homie. What you about to get into?” asked Montana.

  Cedric shook his head. “Nothing really. Probably about to watch a little more news and take my ass to bed. Why? What's up?”

  “Ain't nothing up, my nigga. I'm about to take it in for the night myself. I'm going to leave my door rigged, so if you need something, you can get it. I got a line too, my nigga, so you can stop spending money on that high price-ass wall phone,” Montana said.

  “Appreciate the love, fam,” Cedric replied.

  “We all hood, li’l homie. I'll leave the line and charger behind the books on the table. Just bring it back to me in the morning,” he said.

  “Alright, bro. Have a good one,” Cedric said and walked off.

  Montana watched him walk over and sat down in front of the news television. He quickly rigged his door and put everything exactly where he said he would before laying it down to get some sleep.

  Cedric sat, watching CNN for a good thirty minutes before getting back on the wall phone - at least, that's what he appeared to be doing to everyone else. The day room was almost empty. He and two other men remained.

  Cedric stood near the entrance door, waiting for shift change. He looked at the time on his Fossil watch. It was 9:15 p.m., and, when he looked up, the cocoa butter brown-skinned, 5'4” and thick in all of the right places female guard came walking down the hallway, carrying her lunch, paperwork, and mail. She smiled and blew him a kiss as she walked by.

  Cedric walked over to the table where the other two guys sat playing dominoes. He sat down on the stool facing the booth and he remained quiet. The man on his right kicked him on the foot to get his attention. Cedric reached beneath the table and grabbed the butcher's knife from him.

  “You can't go in playing, young brother. That fool in there might be a rat, but he ain't a bitch by far,” the baldheaded heavyset black man on his left said.

  “Neither am I, big bro. Just make sure I can get away with this shit,” Cedric replied.

  “You good, li’l homie. Ain't nobody going to miss a fucking cheese eater. Trust me,” he reassured him. The door opened to the booth, and the second shift guard walked out with his see through carry bag. “Alright, li’l homie, it's about to be show time. You ready?”

  Cedric nodded. The baldheaded man signaled for his domino partner to get on point. The other man got up from the table and walked over to Montana's cell door with his ID card in his right hand, ready to slip the lock.

  “You got one shot at this, youngster. Don't fuck it up,” he said while listening for the door up the hallway to close. Finally, the clicking sound that the door made was heard. “Go eat, li’l nigga.”

  Cedric jumped up from the table and crept over to Montana's cell door. By the time he got there, the man had slipped the lock for him to walk right on in. Montana was sound asleep when Cedric stabbed him in the jugular vein twice before he could even open his eyes. He stabbed him four more times before casually walking out of the cell.

  His adrenaline still rushing, Cedric walked back over to the table where the baldheaded man sat and sat down on his right side. “He's as good as fucked, big bro,” Cedric said while handing him back the butcher's knife under the table.

  He took the blade and wrapped it up inside of yesterday's newspaper. He stood up, walked over to the door, and pressed the intercom button to get the guard's attention. She opened the door immediately, and he walked out of the dorm, over to the booth drawer, and dropped the newspaper inside after she slid the drawer out for him. Without exchanging words, he walked back in the dorm and sat back down at the table.

  “Young blood, you forgot a very important principle,” he said.

  Cedric was confused. “What's up?”

  “The spoils belongs to the victor, li’l nigga. Go get that line and whatever else in there of value. I'm pretty sure a dead man ain't calling anybody or eating food,” he replied.

  Cedric nodded and jumped up from the table. “Understood, big bro.” He went back inside of Montana's cell and took everything of use. The three of them divided up the spoil, however, they told him to keep the phone because they already had their own. After they finished, they locked down in their individual cells and went to sleep like nothing had happened.

  Before Cedric could get too deep in sleep, the guard buzzed the speaker in his cell. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the speaker.

  “Cedric Livingston, what's up, boo? What are you doing?” she asked seductively.

  “I'm living. What's on your mental, Tiffany?” he replied.

  “Some release therapy. Come to the booth. Just stay ducked down when you come out of the dorm door,” Tiffany said.

  “On the way, sexy,” he said and got out of bed. Cedric opened his cell door and made his way across the day room floor to the front door.

  Tiffany popped the door for him, and he did exactly as she'd said. He stayed low to the floor until he reached the booth door, which she had cracked open for him to slide inside. He immediately noticed she was already out of her pants and panties.

  “Damn, baby girl, you was already plotting the moment huh?”

  Tiffany sat up on the control panel, spread her legs wide, exposing her freshly-shaved vagina, and leaned back against the window of the booth. “Something like that. Are you going to please this pussy or what?”

  He responded by walking up in between her thighs and dropping his pants and boxers to the floor. Tiffany was already soak
ing wet, so he slid inside of her with ease. She gasped for air as his stimulating length filled her and his lips pressed against hers hungrily. She worked her hips, grinding on him and moaning softly in between kisses.

  “Oh baby, give me that dick. I want it all, baby,” Tiffany whispered in his right ear between moans.

  Cedric, feeling his release coming, grabbed her by the thighs and started long stroking inside of her hard and fast, causing her to moan louder and louder. She wrapped her arms about his neck, holding on to him and thrusting herself into his pounding inside of her.

  “Cum in me, baby. Cum inside of this pussy, baby,” Tiffany said softly in his ear.

  Cedric pounded away hard and fast until he came. The release was so strong it caused his legs to tremble. Tiffany held on to him tight and grinded on him, milking him dry and climaxing herself. Satisfied, they tongued each other down while waiting on their bodies to calm from the release.

  “Damn, Tiffany, you know how to make a nigga get right,” Cedric said while pulling up his boxers and pants.

  Tiffany giggled. She wiped herself with the wipes she had in her bag before putting on her panties and pants. “So you say, boo. Time will tell though.”

  He didn't quite understand what she meant by that, but he kissed her again before creeping back into the cellblock. Instead of jumping in the shower, he washed off in the sink in his cell. While at it, his thoughts were on the powerful release he'd just felt. He knew if Tiffany wasn't on the pill, shots, or IUD, there was a chance that was the nut to get her pregnant.

  Cedric took a piss and laid down with the thoughts of Tiffany being pregnant. What will I tell Renika? he thought to himself. “Oh well,” he said out loud. With that thought lingering in his mind, sleep claimed him quicker than he thought it would.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, he awakened to Tiffany's voice coming through the speaker in his room, telling him good morning and that she would see him later on. He asked her for her phone number, which she gave him without hesitation. He promised to call her around dinner time.