“Don’t be fooled by the shit-stem,” Leader continued. “They’ll tell you killing is wrong, killing is against the law. Yet if you kill for your country you’re a hero. They’ll give you a medal for it. Hell, the so-called founders of this country were mass murders and they got a whole damn monument for them. Why you think they call it Mount Rushmore? ’Cause they kept rushing more troops over from England to kill off the Indians. Shit, the whole way they got this country was through bloodshed. Now you want to tell me I can’t shed blood to provide for me and mine? Fuck ’em!”
Justus could tell just discussing the government made Leader amped because he had quickened his pace so much he had to slow down for Justus to catch up. While Leader waited for Justus, thinking if he had covered all the bases, he realized he had left a major stone unturned. When he and Justus resumed their trek through the bushy trails Leader addressed this pertinent issue.
“Most people think killing goes against the laws of God, but wasn’t it god himself who instituted killing? Wasn’t it God who brought death to the world as life’s twin brother? It’s widely believed that the penalty for disobeying God is an early death. That’s what they say anyway. But then they’ll tell you that no one goes before their time. Moses is known as the lawgiver. He brought the Ten Commandments, one of which is Thou Shalt Not Kill. Yet Moses himself killed a man. Even Abraham was told to kill his own son. Even Jesus had to face death. So, see my son, killing is as natural as living. Ultimately, we’re born to die. We’re just assisting in the natural process. All scripture says there will be a judgement day. If you’re not dead already, on that day God will kill you himself then judge you. Dying is inevitable. In a way, we’re walking dead.” Leader chuckled at the thought.
The remainder of the first day went the same way. Leader spoon feeding Justus from his book of maxims as they familiarized themselves with the grounds. At the end of the day, one lesson was clear: Ninety percent of being an assassin was mental, ten percent was physical.
For the next two weeks, Leader took Justus’s young body to unparalleled heights. They did aerobics, yoga, and hard-core kung fu. Leader expanded Justus’s knowledge of martial arts even further, teaching him about Iron Hand and Poison Hand. Iron hand was the act of utilizing your hands as different weapons like steel, stone, blades, claws, etc. To train his hands for this method, Leader had Justus punch walls, slap trees, and knead buckets of wet sand. The test was being able to knock bark off a tree without feeling a thing. It would take years to accomplish this feat, but Justus was well on his way.
Poison Hand (also called Dim Mak) consisted of hitting certain parts of the body in a way to cause instantaneous death. Some people never mastered this art as it was extremely difficult, and fraught with responsibility. Leader took years to master Poison Hand, and still brushed up regularly to retain his skills. To prepare Justus, Leader made a dummy filled with water. He marked certain spots on the dummy that, when struck correctly, caused the water to burst out. It took three days of constant, repeated instruction before Justus was able to strike the dummy well enough to draw a drop of water. When he did, he felt he had conquered the world. No one was more shocked and surprised than Leader.
It took Leader a full week before he achieved his first burst of water from the dummy.
The following week found Justus brushing up on weapons training. Having been trained since he was a baby, Justus knew firearms like he knew his name, but Leader introduced him to a whole new way of using them. Natural, manmade silencers, interchangeable calibers, homemade bullets with higher velocities; all these things and more, Justus learned that second week.
By the end of that first month Justus could see noticeable changes in his body. His mind was more alert than ever and he felt more comfortable with himself than he’d ever felt in his life. His thought process produced the biggest change. When he’d killed a man the previous month, he was filled with regret. Now, he felt nonchalant. It was what it was. He only had two regrets: he couldn’t check up on his mother to see how she was handling things, and he couldn’t see Nikki.
He hadn’t seen or talked to her since graduation night.
* * *
Nikki hurried about the house, gathering things for her two-year-old daughter, Diamond. After months of prodding from Diamond’s father, Jock, Nikki was finally taking their daughter to see him.
Jock was being held downtown at the Cumberland County Detention Center. He had pled guilty to drug possession charges and had been sentenced to one year in the County Jail. The whole incident put a strain on his and Nikki’s relationship, but in actuality, the relationship had been over since long before the incident occurred. Nikki was simply fed up with being a hustler’s wifey and all that it entailed. Jock had been more in love with the streets than her, and Nikki felt she deserved better. She was only bringing their daughter to visit out of respect for the father-daughter bond, not because he deserved it.
When Nikki arrived at the detention center, she was met with resistance because of her skirt being too short. After much pleading, and a fake-number pass off with a promise to call, they were allowed entry. Working men were nothing new to Nikki, a testament to her pedigree of a top-notch game girl.
As Nikki ascended to the fifth floor, she couldn’t help but think why she elected to wear the skirt in the first place. All her jeans were fitting too tight. She had gained a considerable amount of weight in the past month. She brushed it off as stress attributed to Justus’s abrupt departure. However, she was aware of the fact that her “Aunt Flo” had pulled a disappearing act for the month. She planned to make a stop after seeing Jock that would put all her worries to bed.
Nikki stepped off the elevator into the visiting area looking fabulous, strutting hard on the six-inch heels of her thigh-high D&G boots. Diamond was dressed exquisitely as well, in a jean ensemble. Together, they strolled to the officer station in the center of the room and passed the C.O. the visitation slip. Surrounding them were numerous cubicles equipped with two-way telephones and Plexiglas windows. The C.O. directed Nikki to one of the booths. After waiting a few minutes, Jock appeared. As he sat down on the stool, Nikki noticed his face had filled out, making him look bigger than she remembered. Nikki thought the extra weight looked good on him.
“ ’Sup, Babygurl?” Jock drawled through the receiver. Nikki scowled at him and passed the phone to Diamond. Jock greeted his little angel, said a few words with enthusiasm, then ordered her to give the phone back to Nikki.
“What, Jock?”
“What’s wrong witchu, I was calling you Babygurl, and you gon’ go give the phone to Diamond,” Jock chastised. “Shit, I musta called you dat too much since you done fucked around and got a baby boy,” he leered.
Nikki sucked her teeth, “What is you talking ’bout?
“You know what the fuck I’m talking ’bout!” Jock stuck his face closer to the glass, and sneered through clenched teeth. “Why is you playing wit’ me, dawg? You don’t wanna answer the phone when I call and shit? That’s my muthafucking phone! I paid that bill. You riding this li’l nigga around in the car I bought? You done lost yo’ goddamn mind. Got mu’fuckas laughing at me like I’m some joke. And you know I get down fa mines.” Finished with his spiel, Jock returned to his stool.
“Yeah, I know you get down for yours,” Nikki retorted. “You beat women—after you fuck around on them. You bring dope around your own daughter. Then you leave us both to fend for ourselves!”
Jock couldn’t believe Nikki was talking to him all reckless, but he had to admit she was right. Nikki had hit a nerve with the mention of his daughter so he calmed his tone down to assuage the situation. “Yo, I swear that shit was an accident, Babygirl. I was only keeping it in there for one night. Somebody dropped dimes on me. That’s word!”
“That’s what you don’t understand, Jock,” Nikki whined, allowing a glimpse of her feelings to surface. “It only takes one time. You gotta win every day. They only gotta win once. And I can’t have my daughte
r around that. I need some stability. I need a man that’s gonna be there.”
“Like who? That li’l nigga, Justus?” Jock shot back. His expression let on that he knew something. Nikki’s expression told him that she was sorry he knew. “Yeah that li’l nigga played yo’ ass. Damn near twenty-three, getting played by a teenager.” Jock laughed.
“You don’t know what the fuck you talking ’bout!”
“Oh, I don’t?” Jock asked rhetorically, laughing between words. “Gave that young nigga dat good-ass pussy and he dipped on you. Bet you feel stupid as fuck now. Bet you feel real stable, huh?”
Nikki looked at Jock with pure disgust, “You make me sick.”
“Oh, and you don’t think it make me sick to hear of a nigga playing you like that. You my mu’fucking wifey, Nikki!”
“Jock, please. You exaggerating.”
“Oh? Where he at then?”
“Pug say he off at school.” Nikki answered unconvincingly.
“And you believe it? Fuck outta here!” Jock scoffed. “Before I forget though. Tell dat nigga Pug, that’s some fucked up shit. I used to see dis nigga daily and he gon’ hook my bitch up wit’ another nigga.” He stated. He was getting heated just thinking about it.
“Jock, I’m not your bitch.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I don’t belong to you no more.”
“Bitch, you betta stop tripping. I only got a year. I’ll be home before that pussy get cold. Now, I forgive you for fucking li’l dude once. Don’t let that shit happen again.”
Nikki sucked her teeth, muttering, “Whatever.”
“For the rest of the time I’m here, you need to play your position. Keep that bread on my books. Send them letters, and come up here. A’ight?”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me, Jock,” Nikki responded. Looking at Jock like he had lost his mind. “I said it’s over.”
“Yo, li’l dude ain’t coming back. He shitted on you, Now, you betta tighten up ’fo I ex yo’ ass out.”
“It ain’t got nothing to do with him!” Nikki shouted through the phone, virtually in tears. “It’s about you and your lifestyle. I’m done with it. I’m going back to school to be the doctor I always wanted to be,” she vowed. Although she was fed up with the way Jock carried on, that was only part of the reason she was leaving. The truth was, she secretly awaited Justus’s return eagerly. She longed for any sign telling her what Jock said wasn’t true. That Justus had not abandoned her. She’d had enough of Jock’s smug teasing. Gathering herself, she looked Jock in his eyes defiantly.
“Look, I didn’t come for this. I brought your daughter to see you out of respect. If you can’t act any better than that, you better get a good look at her now because I won’t be bringing her again.”
As Jock was about to respond, the guard tapped him on the shoulder, “McNeil, time’s up.”
“A’ight,” Jock told the guard. Before he left, he gave Nikki some parting words: “Yo, if I find out you fucking wit’ dat young nigga again, I’ma dumb out and kill both you mu’fuckas. Watch!” he slammed the phone down and blew a kiss to Diamond.
Nikki stormed out of the visiting area silently cursing under her breath. She was determined to show Jock she meant business. As she entered the elevator, she caught a sharp cramp in her side. She buckled briefly, recovered, and then walked out of the building nonstop. She did not request additional visiting privileges. She did not leave any money on his books.
She headed straight to the doctor.
Chapter 10
Leader pulled into his driveway directly behind a shiny maroon Cadillac with vanity plates that read “Jesus.”
“What the fuck?” Leader thought aloud.
He exited the bucket and walked around the Cadillac inspecting it. When he got to the rear of the car, Leader took one look at the window and knew who the car belonged to. The window was decorated like a trophy case. All types of squares, compasses, stars, swords, and fish etched on different platforms were sprawled across the rear glass.
“Oh, HELL NAW!!”
Leader stormed inside his home and found Reverend Butkus Bucks cocked to the side in a recliner with his legs crossed. Glenda was sitting across from him. A bible lay open between them on the glass table.
“Hey Daddy,” Glenda greeted, but failed to stand for Leader.
Leader looked Reverend Bucks up and down, from his conked hair, to his expensive tailor-made suit and big diamonds, all the way to his alligator shoes. In fact, Leader did it twice just in case he missed something the first time. He peered through Reverend Bucks’ gold framed glasses to his beady eyes and told him, “You got until the time I go downstairs and back to be gone.”
Reverend Bucks raised his hands in surrender, “Oh brother, don’t be that way. Sister Glenda was just telling me that you all were having some marital problems. Now that you’re here we can discuss them together. Just us and the Lord, of course.” He looked up to the sky.
“What part don’t you understand?” Leader asked. “I said you need to go NOW. Whatever goes on in my house stays in my house. What happens between my wife and I is between us!” Leader jabbed his chest. “Now, I’m dead-ass serious. I’m about to send you to your maker if you don’t get the hell outta my house. The place you sing about all the time? You about to go there.”
“My brother, if you’ll just—”
Leader never heard him. He was already halfway downstairs to retrieve his pistol. By the time he returned upstairs, Reverend Buck was practically tearing the door off his precious Cadillac. Leader glanced at Glenda seated on the sofa, her face in her hands, her head dropped between her legs, and kept on moving. He was determined to make his point.
When Leader made it outside, Reverend Bucks was peeling out in reverse. Leader aimed his weapon at the windshield and the red beam danced across the glass. He thought about licking a couple of shots over the Cadillac for motivation. Reverend Bucks straightened the car out and left rubber on the pavement as he made his getaway.
“That’ll teach him,” Leader said to himself. “Slimy bastard.”
Leader knew the old adage was true: No one got more pussy than a trucker, a sailor, and a preacher. He was not about to let his crown-jewel fall victim to the smooth-talking, bible-toting, gigolo.
When Leader went back inside he found his wife sobbing uncontrollably in the kitchen. He held her inside his tight embrace and listened as she confided in him all that she had been feeling lately. Her nightmares from the kidnapping. The emptiness felt from Justus leaving their house. The hassles of their daughter feeling herself because she was negotiating the hills of puberty. And her feelings about the card she had found in his pocket when he returned from his business trip.
Leader listened carefully, empathized, and then fished Glenda’s head from his chest. “Listen, baby, the guy who did that to you, trust me when I tell you that he will never do anything to anyone again. Ever! The kidnapping was about money, that’s all. It wasn’t personal.”
“But why?” Glenda cried.
“He was a fiend, baby! A fiend who is smoking that shit with his God now.” Leader left out the fact that Justus had executed the honors. He placed her head back on his chest. “And Justus is a man now. He is under my tutelage. When he returns from his training, he will be living on his own.”
“But he’s my baby!” Glenda protested.
Leader chuckled. “He will always be your baby, but he is a man now. It’s time for us to let him be a man.”
Glenda sighed. “I know,” she whispered.
“And Keisha is growing up too. Soon, she will be a woman. The quicker we accept it, the happier we will be. Right?”
Glenda wasn’t too convinced, but her husband had spoken, and she still believed in him. “I guess,” she said.
“Look at it like this,” Leader suggested. “At least we will have our home to ourselves real soon.”
Leader continued to console his wife and wrapped all of her concerns up in a pretty
little bow. However, he could not so easily dismiss Glenda’s concerns about the woman on the card. Oh, he had contacted her alright. Her name was Carmen, and he definitely intended to see her soon. For now, he was hell bent on make-up sex.
Leader scooped Glenda in his arms to carry her upstairs. They were on their way upstairs when the buzzer to the front door rang. Leader discarded Glenda on the bed then went to answer the door. When he looked through the peephole he knew make-up sex was out the window.
Nikki was at the door, and she was crying hysterically.
Chapter 11
Justus was in deep mediation, recalling all the things he had learned over the past three and a half months. With each breath inhaled, he felt stronger. The only weak point in his training was foreign languages. His German was a little suspect, but he could speak enough Spanish, Italian, and Arabic to make up for it. Hell, the Germans don’t even speak German so I’ll be cool, Justus thought. His training was so intense, Justus learned in three months what most people would take years to learn. He was even shocked by his progress. Guess his father was correct; he was a natural. His results were visible whenever he looked at himself in the mirror. He was now built like a warrior. Not brolic, but chiseled like a Greek statue. Even his thoughts had changed. When he encountered a tree on their nature walks, his first thought was how to scale the tree quickly without being seen. When they encountered wild animals, his first thought was how to use the animal to his advantage, or at the very least, how to kill the animal as expediently as possible without a sound. In fact, Justus used every opportunity as a learning experience, a chance to hone his new craft.
Justus heard someone, or rather felt someone enter the room. He opened his eyes to find Leader with yet more clothes in his hand, and a wicked smile plastered across his face.
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