by Mercy B
He’d been the only one out of the crew to wear black jeans and a semi-formal shirt that could be considered a tee shirt depending on who you asked. He wasn’t suited as everyone else, but he wasn’t exactly casual either. He was somewhere in between the two.
“I’m the only one catching a body this evening, gentleman. However, I will need you and Dade as my eyes and ears amongst everyone else, waiting to handle anything and anyone that seems out of place.”
“Good enough for me,” Lorde nodded.
“We head out in an hour. Kierce, please don’t leave my wife and daughter’s side.”
“I won’t,” Kierce assured RahMeek.
“Good.”
Two hours later and RahMeek was perched behind the darkly tinted windows of a Lincoln. He watched from inside as the home going service concluded. His eyes darted from Dade and Lorde over to the African statue that held his folded hands in front of him and looked around every few seconds. His eyes were shielded by tinted shades. However, they did nothing to conceal the apprehension he felt standing in the open with a clear target on his back.
As the crowd began to separate, RahMeek straightened his posture and removed his gun from the waist of his pants. He double – then triple – checked to make sure that he was fully loaded and the safety had been disabled before screwing the long silencer onto the end of the gun’s mouthpiece. Carefully, he rested it beside him on the seat and impatiently waited for his victim. It wasn’t very long before the door of the Lincoln swung open and a full-sized figured slid in opposite of RahMeek.
“Fida,” could be heard faintly. “My Fida.”
Floyd had yet to notice RahMeek’s presence until he made it known. “Floyd Babette. It’s been a while,” he started with his eye painted on Floyd’s flesh.
Ghosted, Floyd lifted his slumped shoulders and hung head at the sound of RahMeek’s voice. His eyes swelled like saucers as he reached for the handle of the door before realizing it was being held shut. Lorde stood outside of the car pressuring it from the outside. There was no way he was getting out. Not if anyone in RahMeek’s clan had anything to say about it.
“Meek,” Floyd swallowed coming to terms with the fact that he was trapped.
“Nice memorial,” RahMeek nodded towards the tent where Hampsher’s casket was still visible.
“You did this!” Floyd growled. “She was my daughter. My only child.”
“Na. My daughter handled that for me. You’re not the only one with a hitter on your team. As much as she was your daughter, he was my son. Eye for an eye, right?”
“How could you do this?” Floyd puffed his chest. “Son of a bitch!”
“Pipe down before I deflate that motherfucker with a piece of lead. We both know you aren’t shit but lip. And, I did nothing. My only mistake was allowing my son to fall for your daughter without interfering. You… You on the other hand are to blame for this. All of this. Hampsher… Fida never had a chance at normalcy. Instead of manning up and fessing to your pussy ass traits, you let her believe that I was the reason behind her mother’s murder.
“I actually liked Hannah. She had heart. I see where Fida got hers from, because it surely wasn’t from her hoe ass father. But, back to what I was saying. Instead of letting Hampsher blame the world for Hannah’s death, you should’ve made it clear that you were the reason. You made that woman take a bullet for you and you still as sorry as you were back then. You’re wasted energy. I’m glad I could run into you again, though. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“Bayou!” Floyd called out to his driver.
“Bayou is waiting for you. I told him you’d be right behind him,” Roc cleared his throat and replied as he rolled the small window down that separated him from RahMeek and Floyd.
“Look at me,” RahMeek demanded of Floyd, who was in utter shock at the sight of Roc in his driver’s seat and at the steering wheel.
Floyd’s eyes trailed the sound of RahMeek’s voice. The moment they were gazing at one another, RahMeek lifted his right hand and emptied his entire clip into Floyd’s body. The satisfaction that he’d awaited was slow to come, so he reached backward and summoned Roc’s weapon as well. Again, he released a stream of bullets into Floyd’s body as blood splattered over his suit and his victim fell over to the side. Instant gratification was hard to come by, so RahMeek rolled his window down and proceeded to retrieve a glock from both Dade and Lorde. Four rounds of bullets and the weight that RahMeek had been smothered by was finally lifted.
“The nigga was dead over twenty bullets ago,” Roc looked through the rearview mirror and informed RahMeek.
“But that weight on my shoulder wasn’t.” Fixing the jacket of his suit as if it wasn’t completely destroyed by the blood that covered it, RahMeek reached for the handle of the door.
Knowing that their victim had gone to meet his maker, Lorde removed himself and allowed Meek to exit. Roc was second. As he rounded the car, he tossed a hand in the air and signaled for their crew to complete the mission that they’d started. Lorde grabbed the blunt that was stashed behind his ear and placed it at his lips before lighting it. Immediately after it was properly burning, he passed it to RahMeek, knowing that he needed it to take the edge off.
“Preciate that,” Meek inhaled. “Let’s ride.”
The four men walked side by side towards the black Mercedes that they’d driven to the service. Once inside, RahMeek passed the blunt he’d been hitting to Lorde, who’d climbed in the backseat with him. Dade drove while Roc relaxed in the passenger seat. The sound of Tupac blasting through the speakers initiated the comfortable silence that fell over them all.
It wasn’t until they’d arrived to the location of Rafeeq’s service that the weight of why they were there pressed down on them all. Rahmeek feeling the effects most. Rafeeq was his son. There was no combination of words that had the power to rid him of his guilt. The remembrance of how it felt to empty a clip into Floyd’s body provided him with the oxygen needed to exhale all the extra. If he did nothing else, he felt peace knowing that he’d been able to end the life of the man who’d started it all.
Filing out again, the men made their way inside the church. Though someone was at the microphone speaking time stood still as Rahmeek’s footsteps thundered towards the front pew where the love of his life waited. He kept his focus on no one but Bella as he took a step in front of her. She conducted her inspection of his attire at the pace of a snail visibly expelling carbon monoxide when her eyes rested on the specks of blood that covered her husband. Only at that moment did Bella feel relief.
She’d never doubted Rahmeek’s ability to deliver the same fate to Floyd that’d been bestowed upon her son. She worried about the emptiness that flooded her not long after Rahmeek took his place by her side. Yes, he’d removed a threat from their lives. It just so happened to come after they had to suffer a great lost. As a mother Bella never imagine she’d have to sit front row while surrounded by family and friends all present to honor and celebrate a child she’d birthed from her womb. That was her son. Her baby.
The pain was excruciating but she made due. She was the epitome of strength despite her desire to be everything except. There was a time for everything and ever sense the day bullets surged from the tip of her gun, she’d fallen short with her inability to do much other than reflect on that little boy who’d grown to become a man. A damn good one. If she had no other reason to smile, she found it in knowing that she and Rahmeek succeeded as parents producing a man. Although it went against everything that’s taught Bella was convinced he was perfect but now he was gone. The hole in her chest was bigger than herself. As she turned away from her husband to look at the coffin as black and slick as polished obsidian, she knew in her motherly bones it was a feeling that would stay.
Chapter Three
Silence was preferred. He’d rather not know how she felt than to hear her constant cries. They were filled with pleas for what seemed like the impossible after the week dragged and life prop
elled forward. It was hard for the Jones’ to understand how everyone else could move forward as if nothing ever happened. As if they weren’t losing their minds behind their loss. None of them were confident that time would heal the wound. Rahmeek’s chest caved in every time he had to listen to his wife wail. Hearing her despair was lightning to the heart.
The first night, he’d consoled her. By night two he could only lay deathly still beside her. Night three he made his departure from their bedroom opting to sleep in the guest bedroom instead. Layers of thick plasterboard separated him from his heart, yet he still felt her. Heard her as well. Bella was in pain that rolled over onto the rest of her family because they looked to her for their strength. With her falling apart it was only a matter of time before Rahmeek and Reign followed. If that happened, it would eat at Rahmeek the same way his guilt over the shooting that’d ripped his son apart did.
Running a hand down his unshaven face he knew the crying had to stop. It would change nothing for any of them. At best it might help Bella release her grief, but Rahmeek knew there weren’t enough tears in the world to help her ever get over this. At worst she’d physically age beyond her years and lose herself within. He refused to sit around while his wife became a shell of who she was. With learned agility he hopped from the bed to pace and clear his thoughts. He had no clue on what to do. His masculine instincts were however kicked into overdrive hearing another pain-ridden cry from Bella.
Leaving the guest bedroom behind he marched down to the bedroom the couple shared. Without stepping inside or glancing her way, he opened the door and said, “Come with me.”
Bella’s body froze as soon as the door slid open. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut from the rapid amount of tears that’d slipped between their slits. Her temples throbbed fiercely. Like before the funeral she had put very little effort to move her body out of the cradled position that did very little to improve her mood. Bella refused to acknowledge Rahmeek’s presence. All she wanted was to continue driving herself towards a numb oblivion because for now it hurt too much. All over she hurt. Physically, mentally and emotionally Bella hurt. That was why she didn’t acknowledge him. They both knew there was nothing that he couldn’t do. Rahmeek would give her the world if he could, and he was used to making shit right. He couldn’t this time.
“Bella, come with me.” Once again she refused to move. “Bella.”
“No, Rahmeek,” she found her voice. It was scratchy and weak but he could hear her answer.
His footsteps thundered across the floor to get to where she rested in the middle of the bed. “Get up.”
“No.”
“Bella.”
“I said NO!,” she yelled while sitting up on the bed. Her eyes danced around his rough appearance before they glanced down at the bed. Saddened by his sadness and hers she lowered herself back down to the bed. “No,” she whispered.
Rahmeek didn’t speak another word as he pivoted on his right foot and left the bedroom. He’d only been gone for a second before his determination registered in Bella’s mind. It fueled her desire to hop up and chase after him. Her body groaned in protest after being folded for so long. She ignored it and quickened her pace.
Bella made it to Rahmeek at the bottom of the staircase. Her hand reached forward to coil his shirt around her hand. She was trying to slow him down but it didn’t work. Rahmeek was on a mission. He bulldozed through Bella’s attempts as if she weren’t even there. Rushing around in front of him she placed her hands on his chest to hold him in place. It was another act that did nothing to halt him. As a last resort she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his wide chest.
“Stop Rah.” He paused, but it was only for a moment. “Please, please, please. NO! Stop, Rahmeek,” she cried. It should’ve been impossible for her body to still be able to produce moisture when she was long ago cried out. Big crocodile tears shot from her eyes as she placed her hands firmly on his abdomen. “Rahmeek, please.”
He stopped to grab her wrists. Bella thought she’d gotten through to him but the very opposite had happened. She’d only heightened his desire to keep going. Forcefully, he pushed them down. “No. Move.”
It all went down so quickly that she had no time to catch onto his shirt as he side-stepped her and quickened his pace. Bella chased after him as they disturbed the dust that’d settled over the last week of them creeping around their home. The energy had grown stagnant and now they were shaking shit up. Too many emotions to label surrounded them as Bella tried her hand again. “Don’t. Please don’t do this!” As she expected, he ignored her.
Rahmeek pressed his hand into a wall panel that only Bella knew existed. Not long afterwards the wall shifted creating an opening for entrance. He slipped through and nearly ran down the steps that led to a secret quarter in their home wedged between the basement and the wine cellar where the shooting had changed their lives.
Bella followed weakly needing the support of the wall to keep her upright. Her body shook viciously. Her hands trembled as they slid across the wall to lead the way. She gripped the corner at the bottom of the stairs needing a moment to gather herself.
Light filled the room causing her to peek around the corner into the room. They were there now and she knew nothing she said would keep Rahmeek from doing what he felt was right. Leaving the wall behind, Bella stood in the middle of the room speechless as he began to rip cords from wall sockets cutting their power supply.
He’d only successfully gotten two undone before she went ballistic. Bella swung on Rahmeek as if she’d just caught him cheating. In her eyes he had. She felt betrayed by his actions. To Rahmeek her fists equated to being hit with pebbles; he was unfazed. Bella didn’t care, she wanted him to feel the pain she felt.
“Bella, stop!”
“No!” she continued to swing on him until he was forced to grab her arms and turn her so that the back of her body was pressed against the front of his body. “Get the fuck off me!” She continued to fight but it was useless. He had her secured in his arms.
Both of their chests heaved up and down until he felt she’d calmed down enough. Bella played the part until he let her go. She spun around and slapped him so hard Rahmeek had to clench his jaw to keep from blowing up. He’d done a good job remaining calm until she did it again.
Walking away he went back to unplugging everything he saw. Bella’s fist in his back throbbed. Having grown tired of her violence he turned to her again and shouted, “He has my blood. Ain’t no machine can do for him more than he can do for himself. He’s going to wake the fuck up. This is no way for my boy to live. This is worse than death!”
Bella snatched her arms away from him as she backed away. Her right hand lifted to her mouth to stifle the scream she was on the verge of releasing. Rahmeek saw her lack of belief. She had no faith in their son. He did. He believed.
“He’s got this shit,” he whispered to her. She’d made her way across the room to a point where she had nowhere else to go. Bella looked on in horror as Rahmeek tried to convince her by repeating himself. “He’s got this shit.”
Turning back to the bed he looked down at his son. His skin was ashen. He looked weak beyond repair. It still did nothing to dwindle Rahmeek’s faith. He had enough faith for him and Bella.
Heart palpitations he couldn’t control threatened to take him out. Rahmeek felt weak. Like a failure. Any day he would’ve rather it been him lying in that bed then Rafeeq. He was a grown man but it didn’t change the fact that he was his baby boy. He should’ve done… more. It’d become a mantra in his subconscious as he blamed himself once again.
Rahmeek’s body numbed. He had to draw himself deep inside in order to block out Bella’s consistent mumbling about her son, her son. She shed every tear that he’d been unable to over the last week. She prayed every prayer. Bella had indeed become Rahmeek’s emotional half. Everything he felt could be seen in her. It could be felt. It could be heard. Everything that Rahmeek was happened to lie in Bella and the
ir children.
Looking down at his son he felt emptiness that came from Rafeeq’s absence. That special place in his heart for his son was still there, make no doubt about it, because it always would be. It was just that now it hurt worse than any pain Rahmeek ever felt. He’d take all the bullets. He’d take all the internal damage just for his son to have life again. Whether he knew it or not, he needed his son to have life again.
“That’s my baby,” Bella’s voice suddenly became audible again.
Rahmeek snapped out of the mental prison he’s locked himself in to turn and face her. His line of vision came up empty because Bella was no longer against the wall. She was standing on his left looking down at Rafeeq. Her hand rested on his cheek as tears the size of gumdrops fell from her eyes. Rahmeek watched on silently.
“You are so special. And strong. You are the best son a mother can ask for. The way you love me and your sister, take care of us although you are everyone’s baby…” Bella chuckled lightly. “Rafeeq, baby, I need you to come back,” her shoulders began to shake. “I don’t want to know what life is like without you here because I already have you and I want you to stay with me. Please, choose life. I don’t want-” her voice cracked and before she released it the fear bubbling at the pit of her gut could be felt because it pumped suffocating waves of raw emotion into the vibration of the room. “Please,” she surprisingly followed up with. She caressed his cheek oblivious to her tears falling on his face. “Please,” she pleaded again. In the blink of an eye Bella had run out of words. She felt there was nothing more that she could say to make her son not leave her. Since neither she nor Rahmeek were doctors that had no idea what state their son was in.
Bella instantly got pissed off and turned to Rahmeek. Her lip curled, eyebrows dipped low and back slightly hunched. She was in full blown mama bear mode alerting Rahmeek to the fact that shit was about to hit the fan.