Blood Ties

by Shaun Sinclair

  Leader had just returned from a business trip in South America via Chicago. It was one of the few times he actually decided to attend a nightclub. Wanting to mingle amongst his former comrades, he was dressed to impress when he stepped inside the NCO club on Fort Bragg. Glenda and her sister Gloria were already there. They were the envy of the club and the life of the party. Gloria, in all her ghetto fabulousness, and Glenda in her hood chic. They both wore sexy dresses. Gloria’s was strapless, short, and sheer. Glenda’s, spaghetti, silk, and tight. After observing them both for a while, Leader decided he would pursue Glenda. She seemed a bit more humble. Leader hated loud women.

  He stepped to her, bought her a few drinks, chatted the night away. Everything was fine until Glenda informed him she had a man. Unfazed and undaunted, Leader continued to pursue her relentlessly. Eventually, he won her over in true Gladiator fashion, and they’d been inseparable ever since. On their road to bliss, Leader committed crimes against nature and his fellow man just to put stones that glittered upon her hand. If he had to do it all over again, he would.

  * * *

  Pug, Justus, Nikki, and Jackie had left Omni theaters in good spirits. The movie was good, the conversation better. Justus and Nikki were bonding, and Pug and Jackie were back to normal.

  “What you wanna do, gurl?” Jackie asked Nikki as they drove down McPherson Church Road.

  “While I would love to chill, I got a long day ahead of me. I’m still moving, ya know,” Nikki explained. “But we’ll hang later, Justus.” Nikki promised, stroking his chin.

  “Well, we’ll drop you off at your place,” Pug decided, eager to be alone with Jackie so they could engage in make-up sex.

  After dropping Nikki off at her place off Cliffdale Road, Pug made Jackie drive while he sat in back to talk to Justus.

  “You a’ight?” Pug asked Justus, a little concerned.

  “What ch’mean.”

  “You been acting real salty lately. You mad about the other night? You got scared or something?”

  “Nah, I wasn’t scared,” Justus insisted. “Not about dude getting hit up anyway.”

  “Word?’ Justus nodded. “So, what were you scared of then?” Pug asked.

  Justus mumbled, “Getting caught.”

  Pug stared at Justus for a long time, waiting on him to elaborate, but he never did. He just returned Pug’s stare. After a moment, Pug said, “Get the fuck outta here!” He hit the remote, turned the music up louder, and puffed his blunt.

  Pug may have thought Justus was putting on, but in actuality he wasn’t. Justus was dead serious. He couldn’t care less about the man getting hurt. He was only worried about getting caught. How would he explain something like that to his father? Justus knew his father was sacrificing a lot, bringing him into their business, and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He respected his father, so much so, that as a child Leader never had to beat him. All it took for him to get in line was a hard stare, and a good talking to. Justus never wanted to disappoint his father. This was why he didn’t want to get caught.

  Justus’s answer not only surprised Pug. It surprised him too. He was surprised he had such little regard for a person’s life. Surprised he could feel so cold. Surprised he felt absolutely nothing. Yet that was exactly what he felt.

  Nothing.

  It was what it was.

  Chapter 6

  “What do you mean, you’re going to be gone longer than anticipated?” Glenda asked. “We don’t spend time together as it is.”

  “What are you talking about? We spent the entire night together a week ago,” Leader reminded her. “I still shake just thinking about it.”

  “Don’t try to butter me up. Last week was fine, but that’s not what I’m talking about. We’re supposed to be raising a family together,” Glenda stated, clearly not buying it.

  “Baby, just trust me. Now is not the time to talk about it.” The telephone rang.

  “Why is there a phone ringing?” Glenda asked, suspiciously, “John Mo, why are you talking to me on a cell phone if you’re in the hotel? What’s going on?”

  “Damnit, Glenda, nothing! We’ll talk later.” Leader ended the call and answered the hotel phone.

  Minutes later, he and Menes sat in the back of a limo discussing business.

  “I saw the news. I am very pleased. Very.” Menes reached into his jacket pocket and handed Leader an envelope stuffed with cash. “A bonus. As always, you came through again,” Menes noted in his thick accent.

  Leader accepted his compliment with a smile, then reached into his pocket to retrieve his own bonus. He passed the package to Menes.

  “What’s this?”

  “A gift for the family.”

  Menes opened the box and jumped back in surprise when he saw the detached finger with the red ribbon wrapped around it. He tried to chuckle to appear calm, but it was obvious he was shook. “You don’t know ’ow you make’a me feel some’atime,” Menes told Leader, his accent thickening by the syllable. When Menes was excited, his accent grew to indecipherable proportions. “Some’atime I wish I had two of you.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Leader warned. “That could be costly.”

  “No, I am serious,” Menes assured him. “Neva mind a cost. I am reech.”

  The limo took a U-turn and headed for the south side. Leader and Menes sipped cognac and chatted for an hour like they were old friends, despite the fact Leader still wore his disguise. In a sense, they were old friends, but both remained wary of each other. They both understood that the man next to them possessed the power to bring the other to his knees. Farfetched. Yet very possible.

  Leader decided to turn down two very lucrative contracts Menes had scheduled for him in order to spend some Q.T. with his wife. Menes was disappointed, but he understood. Leader was his own man.

  Menes dropped Leader off at his hotel just past midnight. Leader removed his first costume, and applied a fake goatee to this face before venturing downstairs to the bar for a drink. Grabbing a spot at the bar, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief at a job well done. He glanced down the long bar.

  That’s when he saw her.

  * * *

  “Uh-oh Jus, keep up if you can!” Nikki called out as she rolled backwards on her skates. Justus pumped his legs harder and easily caught up with Nikki, grabbing her hand.

  “Ha! Told you you can’t outdo me,” Justus challenged.

  “Well, let me go then.”

  “Can’t!” Justus screamed over the loud music and huge crowd. Skate Sunday in Bordeaux Plaza was a staple in Fayetteville so on any Sunday night, the rink would be packed with people. Justus and Nikki had already received a few harsh stares from a few comrades of Nikki’s incarcerated boyfriend, Jock. Here she was out enjoying their favorite Sunday pastime with another dude when the ink had not even dried on Jock’s fingerprints yet.

  Oblivious to the stares, Justus continued to hold Nikki’s hand while they skated around the rink until they came upon a roadblock on the floor. They attempted to roll around the spilled skaters, but ended up spilling themselves. Nikki fell hard. Justus fell on top of her, right between her legs. They shared a huge laugh before the chemistry between them birthed silence. Their eyes locked and before they knew it, they were kissing.

  Ever since the night they had double-dated with Pug and Jackie, they had been inseparable. Justus had always told himself that if Nikki ever gave him any light, he would run toward it like the sun. He did that in spades. When Nikki awoke, he was there. On her lunch break, he was there. Before she went to sleep at night, he made sure his voice was the last thing she heard. He provided her fresh flowers, going from white carnations, to pink carnations, to red, long-stemmed roses. Nikki loved the attention Justus lavished on her. It had been quite some time since she felt appreciated by a man. And yes, Justus was a man! He was confident, intelligent, strong, and sincere. All the things she desired in a man. So, what if it came in a younger package! So far they had only kissed, but she was planni
ng something real big for his graduation the following week.

  Real big.

  * * *

  Leader had been sipping his drink for the better part of an hour, quietly observing the woman at the end of the bar. Her mannerisms, clothes, and demeanor all spelled class. He entertained the thought of sending her a drink, but didn’t want to become familiar. After all, this was the one place he could come to relax while remaining anonymous. Not to mention he was happily married. Still, he couldn’t resist the urge to stare. His decision was made for him when the bartender issued him another Crown on the rocks.

  “It’s from the lady,” the bartender said. Leader looked in her direction once again and went weak in the knees. She was smiling a smile so bright it could replace the sun! She waved before leaving the stool, headed in his direction.

  Oh shit! Leader thought to himself.

  The woman was wearing high-waist slacks up to her midriff. Grey blouse two shades lighter than her pants. Killer black boots with spike heels that had to be at least four inches. Leader likened her strut to a runway model’s, all hips and swagger, with her eyes locked on him like he was the cameraman. He placed her in her late twenties, early thirties at the most.

  She brought her powerful swagger to a halt directly in front of Leader. She stared at him with her pouty lips pursed, saying nothing for a few seconds. Then she leaned over in his ear, her long, curly hair sweeping his shoulder. “Enjoy your drink,” she whispered seductively. Then, she spun on her tall heels and strutted back to her stool.

  Leader could not tear his eyes from the woman. Her sensual scent lingered in his nose as he watched her perform for him. There was something about her that intrigued him. Her aura drew him in like an insect into a spider’s web. For a second, he forgot he was married. Actually, he was very aware of his marital status. He just didn’t give a fuck.

  * * *

  Nikki and Justus emerged from the skating rink arm-in-arm, headed to Nikki’s Cadillac, when gunshots erupted from behind them. Justus stuffed Nikki under his arm, crouched low, and ran to the car. Placing his back against the Cadillac door, he thrust Nikki to the ground.

  “Get down! Stay the fuck down!” Justus roared. He deactivated the car alarm before stealing a peek in the direction from whence the shots came. When there was an interruption of fire, he tossed Nikki in the backseat and took the wheel. He barreled out of the parking lot at breakneck speed, dodging other escaping motorists with calculated precision. Justus was amazed himself at how well he maneuvered the big ’Lac. From behind him, he heard more shots from an automatic weapon of some sort.

  “Stupid mu’fuckas!” Justus swore under his breath once they were free of the melee. “Can’t even hit nothing. I bet they ain’t hit nothing. You a’ight, baby?”

  Nikki poked her head up from the safety of the backseat. “Yeah.”

  “Did you see who it was? I saw you peeking out the back window. Get your damn head shot off,” Justus joked.

  “No. I didn’t see who it was?” She lied. Nikki knew exactly who was doing the shooting.

  “Niggas stupid, man.” Justus sucked his teeth. “I bet I can out shoot any of them with one eye closed.”

  “Jus, what you know about guns? You better not be shooting guns all crazy.”

  Justus looked through the rearview at Nikki like she was crazy. “Girl, I been shooting guns since I was able to stand up. Whatchu talking ’bout?”

  “For real?”

  “Yeah, my daddy taught me. Shit, that’s how I learned how to count—counting bullets,” Justus stated matter-of-factly. “It’s six rounds in a standard revolver, but some .22’s have eight rounds. Standard pump shotguns carry six rounds, but they can be modified. The first Glocks carried sixteen shots with the capability to hold one in the head. Rugers, the same thing. Browning 9mm’s carry nine rounds along with Colt .45’s. AR-15’s can carry thirty, fifty, and a hundred round magazines, but the barrel will melt if you don’t be careful.”

  Nikki sat in amazement as Justus rattled off spec after spec about guns she had only heard about in movies. When he was done, she was compelled to ask.

  “Justus, you ever shot somebody? And don’t lie, ’cause I know how you and Pug get when you two are together.”

  “Somebody?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  Nikki caught Justus’s apprehension so she asked, “What have you shot then?” She had her arm draped over the back of Justus’s seat, her mouth inches from his neck.

  “Deer,” he answered. “Me and my dad used to go hunting all the time when I was younger. Shit, for most of my teens, if I wasn’t hunting or fucking, I was hunting something to fuck. My dad used to make me field dress the deer and everything.”

  “What’s that?” Nikki asked, stroking his neck lightly with one finger.

  “Field dressing is when you hang a deer upside down by his feet, peel the skin off, and cut his stomach open so the guts can fall out,” Justus explained.

  “Eww, never mind. That’s nasty,” Nikki said. “Sorry I asked.”

  “No, you not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No. You’re not sorry. You may apologize, but you’re not sorry. Words have power. If you say you sorry, that’s what you’ll be. So, don’t ever say that.”

  Nikki loved the way Justus stood his ground. He was full of maxims too.

  “Justus, you’re different than your peers. You know that, right?” Nikki reached around to caress his chin.

  “I hear you.”

  Nikki continued, “You’re different because you have a father. So many brothas don’t. That’s why they act like they do. So, please don’t take that for granted.”

  “Um-hmm. We going home or what?” Justus asked, exiting the highway.

  “We? I’m not taking you home with me!” Nikki said incredulously.

  “Come on, gurl.”

  “Come on what? Boy please! I’ll turn your little young ass out, I ain’t had any in a while, either. Hell nah!”

  Justus chuckled. “Alright, keep running, I’ma have you fiendin’ for this dick.”

  Nikki smacked the back of his head. “You so nasty! Anyway, what kind of work you going to be doing with your father?”

  “I’m not sure, but he’s a security consultant so I’ll probably be doing that. Long as I don’t have to pump no dope or shovel no shit, it don’t matter. He told me I’ll be able to afford anything I want. For that, I’ll follow him to the moon and back.”

  Young Justus didn’t know that his words were soon to be put to the test. He was filled with the arrogance of youth and the promise of prosperity. Add to that the fact that he was on the verge of tackling his childhood goal, and he was feeling invincible. He proudly took the exit to his home. He wanted to go home with Nikki, but he wasn’t pressed. He knew that in due time, he would smash. When he did, he planned on breaking her back for making him wait. Patience was his strong suit, and he would come to live by it or die by it.

  Literally.

  Chapter 7

  Glenda was busy doing laundry. She was feeling good about herself as she rifled her way through the dirty clothes. Her husband had been a permanent fixture in the home for the past week, and they had spent countless hours of Q.T. together. She could hear Leader in the backyard practicing martial arts moves with Justus. They were grunting perversely as they went through their routines. Basically, it was just another day, until she stumbled upon something in one of Leader’s jacket pockets.

  Unfolding the piece of paper, Glenda saw that it was a crumpled business card with a number scrawled on it. She gasped audibly when she noted a woman’s name accompanied with a Chicago area code. She sniffled the card as if that would tell her more about what was going on. She recognized the White Diamond perfume. She’d know that anywhere, as it was the same fragrance she wore daily, however this was not her card.

  Glenda stormed to the back door. “John Mo!”

  “What?” Leader was snatched out of his
routine. He saw Glenda standing at the glass door, hands on her hips, mean-mugging him. She eyed him maliciously for a few seconds before storming off in the opposite direction.

  “Uh-oh, somebody’s in trouble again,” Justus joked. “Damn, Pop, you stay in the doghouse.”

  “Alright boy, watch your mouth.”

  “All I said was damn,” Justus complained.

  “I’m talking ’bout that Pop shit.”

  Justus chuckled a bit, “Oh.”

  “Anyway, I’ll worry about that later. What you doing tonight?”

  “Pug and them throwing a graduation party at their crib.”

  “Pug and who?’ Leader queried.

  “Pug and Nikki.” Leader raised his eyes. “I told you I’m on my game, Pop.”

  “Anyway, if you won’t be coming in tonight, let me know. Call me, not your mother.”

  “A’ight.”

  “Now let me go handle this.”

  Leader left Justus alone, practicing katas until he could barely stand. When he was done, he went inside to prepare for his party. He had every intention of making this night one to remember.

  * * *

  Topeka Heights was packed with people in a festive mood. Even people who didn’t normally associate with each other were partying together. All came to pay respect to Pug. Sure, it was Justus’s party, but Pug was throwing it. Thus, Pug was doing the invitations. To refuse was tantamount to disrespect.

  In a matter of months, Pug had returned home and reclaimed his throne. He may not have been the biggest dopeboy in Fayettenam, but he was definitely amongst its ranks. To the streets, Pug was a throwback soldier. No snitching. No compromising. No “whipped-up” product. Pug didn’t suffer from delusions. He knew his place in society and he embraced it. Pug was 100% NIGGA and proud of it! A young black male in a racist society with limited book smarts and limited opportunities, he had pulled himself up by his boot straps to become the king of his concrete palace.