by Renta
‘She’d always been that way—so why now?’ I wondered.
I pushed the thought to the back of my mind as I glanced at my watch. “Hurry up, baby, we gonna be late!” I whined.
It had been a few weeks since Assata had stumbled in bleeding all over the place. I didn’t think he’d live through the night, but my baby was a souljah. They’d used some chic name Kristasia to patch him up and I’d been stuck to his side ever since. It was Thursday night and we were going to Lovey’s resting place to celebrate her birthday. Afterward, we were making it a movie night. We’d had a long talk and we both decided it was time for a change. Denton was too small, but even more—it was too much drama.
Assata’s latest experience with the reaper had been his sign that there was no future in the streets. We’d discussed business opportunities, but there was something Assata wasn’t telling me—something life altering. I wouldn’t pry though, I also had a secret to share with him. We were pregnant and there was no question as to who the baby’s father was. I glanced at the time again—impatience getting the best of me.
“Assata Lamar!” I called with a roll of my eyes.
“I’m on my way, ma, be easy,” his slow ass shouted from somewhere at the back of the house.
I exhaled slowly as I prepared to wait, picking up the remote, I turned the plasma on, and channel searched until I found the news station. I liked to stay in tune with the craziness the world had going on, especially in Dallas/Fort. Worth. I don’t know if it was a sign from Allah or if it was just a coincidence, but what I found on the screen stole my breath. There—on national television were mugshots of Assata and his entire circle.
My mouth hung open as the news reporter spoke, “This is Anisha Danie with Channel Eight News of Dallas/Fort. Worth. I’m here at the home of Pandora Jacobs, the woman that allegedly murdered her sister in order to fake her own death. As you can see, officials have the area taped off and if you look behind me—you’ll see the coroners wheeling what’s said to be Ms. Jacobs remains,” she announced as she and her camera crew focused on the techs rolling a stretcher with a zipped up body bag on it. “As you know, this is also the woman that is assumed to have had ties to not only the Russian Black Mamba Cartel but Denton’s own Kreek Boys. A powerful drug operation headed by an Assata Lamar, Dunte ‘Pain’ Jackson, Bennie ‘Goose’ Trice of San Antonio Texas, and an unnamed suspect. The FBI—”
As she spoke my eyes tried to keep up with my brain. In the background, there were FBI Agents congregating with local law enforcement. I wasn’t so naïve to the fact that I didn’t know that the Federal Bureau didn’t usually involve themselves in normal murder investigations. The screen proved me right when Assata’s, Goose’s, and numerous other faces flashed onto the screen once again. This time it was to warn the metroplex to be on the lookout for them because they were fugitives and were considered armed and dangerous. It was open season—and it wouldn’t be long before the authorities connected the dots and linked me to Assata. My nerves became jumpy as the reporter stopped a tall white guy in a blue FBI jacket.
“Agent Louding, can I have a moment of your time—is it true that Ms. Jacobs was slain in her own home? It’s speculated that Assata Lamar and another man was seen leaving her home?” she shot off question after question.
The tall man seemed reluctant, but he stopped and gave her his attention. “At this time we’re just speculating, but Assata Lamar and his circle are prime suspects in numerous investigations. If anyone spots these men, we advise the public to contact the authorities immediately!” he spoke with a hint of authoritative urgency. “These men are armed and dangerous—” he was saying when Assata finally walked into the living room dressed to the nines.
“I’m ready, baby, you want—” his words trailed off once he noticed my eyes glued to the television, I was at a loss for words. “What the fuck!” Assata exclaimed before the vase of flowers he’d planned on placing on Lovey’s grave fell to the floor and shattered into thousands of pieces. I guess there would be a change in plans.
****
~Goose~
Tonya had packed the last of her things. The detective was leaving her career—her life—all of it behind in order to go on the run wit’ a nigga. That night we were leaving that small city behind. I knew I couldn’t go back to The Tone—the state was ova with for me. Assata had just hit me to inform me that our faces were plastered all over the TV. I was as paranoid as a crack head after a powerful hit of some potent dope. Every lil’ sound made me jump.
“Almost ready, baby? Let me get the teddy you like so much, and we can leave,” Tonya said before kissing me and heading to the back room.
As soon as she rounded the corner, I got up and followed her. She was in the walk-in closet searching for the nightie when I snuck up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist.
She jumped in surprise. “Baby, you surprised me!” She laughed and went back to her business.
She never noticed the tool in my hand—my heart ached as I eased it to the back of her head. Tonya tensed instantly, I hated what I had to do, but the odds were already against me and if shit got ugly, I didn’t want to take the risk of her turning into a rat. Tonya’s heartbeat could be felt through her back—it’s drumbeat against my chest in a frantic melody.
“Bennie—what are you doing?” she asked without moving.
My eyes clouded. “I love you,” I whispered as a solitary tear leaked from my left eye. I was surprised at how powerful I felt for lady as I tightened my grip on her and hugged her. Love was in my embrace. “I really do, Tonya.”
As if the thought of dying had just sunk in, Tonya Johnson attempted to defy fate. I expected it—I held tight before applying pressure to the sensitive trigger. The back of her head exploded through her forehead, blood splashed against my face as her body crumbled towards the floor and I fell with her. On my knees—in the silence of my sins—I cried as I prayed over her body.
****
~Pursuer~
As Assata sped out of the driveway, he was so in a hurry to leave that he never noticed the grey mustang following him. I’d been following him for months and the man had yet to notice. He was clueless about the danger that stalked him. As I followed from a safe distance, Assata made a sharp turn onto Teasley Lane. The move was so unexpected that I had to wonder if he’d spotted me. At the last minute, I had to slam down on the brakes to keep from being killed in oncoming traffic. A silver pickup zoomed pass, but not before the driver honked his horn and gave me the bird.
Furious, I slammed both fists against the steering wheel, I was stuck at the red light. As I sat impatiently drumming my fingers against the steering wheel, my mind replayed my last day with him—the lovemaking. The truth in his stare, I’d followed him ever since our separation and just the thought of him and the exotic looking woman he’d been keeping time with caused jealousy to erupt like a volcano within me.
‘I’d learned through the girl, Marcella I’d met, that the girl’s name was, Jazzy. My introduction to Marcella was pure luck. I’d been stalking Jazzy’s house because I’d found out that’s where Assata had been laying his head. One morning I was on my stakeout vibe when I noticed the girl Jazzy leaving the house. I decided to follow her to find out a little more about her. She led me to a beautiful brick home on the outskirts of the city and right as I settled in for the wait, the front door opened and out stormed Marcella. From her disheveled look, I could tell that there’d been a shuffle. I watched as she stormed off to her car and burnt rubber out of there. I followed—keeping an eye on her as I juggled the pros and cons.
By the time she pulled into her parking spot at her apartment complex, I had decided to take the gamble. I approached her and just as I thought—a woman’s emotions could make her a snake or a loyal lioness. In Marcella's case, she was a Queen Cobra!
I was snapped out of my reflections by the vibrations of my phone—a text message that read: People’s Cemetery.
As I glanced down at the scre
en, a smile kissed my lips.
****
~Assata~
I pulled the SS into the cemetery—I was ‘bout to leave the city behind. By the time the sunset, I planned on being somewhere safe and making plans to get to Jazzy’s native homeland in Trinidad. I just had to give my farewells to my fam before I left that part of my life behind. The car was silent as I killed the lights. Jazzy and I sat within that silence no doubt trying to figure out how things would be so different now that I was a fugitive of the law. “You don’t have to do this—you can get out the car and—” I began before Jazzy held up her hand and interrupted me.
“Look—I don’t need you telling me what I can or can’t do, Assata. I’m with you, Papi, and I’m not losing you again. Now go speak your peace to Lovey and Shy so we can get out of here, Papi, we have to get somewhere safe,” she spoke before rubbing her stomach.
She’d been doing that a lot lately and I wondered if she was prego. I leaned in her direction and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Give me a moment with the fam and we’ll get in the wind. I’ll give your love to, Shy—” I spoke over my shoulder as I opened the door and stepped out into the chilly night. I respected lil’ one—she was trying to troop for me even though she knew shit was ugly for me.
I noticed the fear just behind the tough girl spiel. I took the burna off my waist—locked it and held it out to Queen. She gazed up at me skeptically.
I smiled my assurance. “Just in case,” I whispered.
The night blew its frigid breath as I turned and headed for Lovey’s final resting place. I couldn’t shake the feeling that for some strange reason, that particular walk felt different from the many others I’d taken. Like—the night was watching me. I shook it off, but one thought was prominent, ‘I shoulda brought more artillery.’
****
~Agent Harrison~
The text from the girl Marcella had led us to the cemetery. “Alpha Two—take your positions. They just pulled into the cemetery. There’s two people in the car—our man and what looks to be a woman,” I spoke into the radio before signaling to the officer to my left. I pointed to the far left, indicating that he should cover that area. He nodded his understanding before taking off in a crouch. Tapping the wireless device in my ear I spoke, “Alpha Two—do you copy?”
There was a brief pause before a response came over the sounds of rolling thunder, “Alpha Two to Alpha One—ten-four, we copy. I think we have company sir, another car has joined the party from the opposite side of the grounds. It looks to be a woman as well and she just exited the vehicle and disappeared into the cemetery,” the officer informed.
Lightening danced across the night sky and I glanced up at the heavens before responding, “On my call, we’re taking the subject down. Don’t bother about any pedestrians. We’re here for, Assata Lamar.” My blood was liquid fire in my veins. I loved being in the field and making the world a better place for good working citizens.
“Alpha One—do you have a visual on the perp?” the voice inquired.
I looked through the night vision goggles before responding, “Roger that, Alpha Two, the perp is in our sights.” I didn’t know what Assata was doing at the cemetery, but he was about to get the biggest surprise of his life.
We had twenty-seven agents surrounding the place. Some were sharpshooters, but all of us had the type of artillery that would guarantee no funny business. The Kreek Circle had come to its end!
****
~Assata~
I glanced up to the sky, it was about to rain. I turned my attention to the cold marble that served as my Queens headstone. “I had flowers—even strawberries, your favorite but I messed it all up, Mama. Look, Lovey, I’m just here to let you know, I love you with my entire soul. I know I didn’t grow to be the type of nigga you wanted me to be, but I always wanted to be. I never meant for things to turn out this way, Mama, I—I—”
“You just couldn’t help who you are! You’re a murderous—heartless piece of shit!” a cold voice spat from behind me.
I tensed before attempting to turn and acknowledge the woman I almost fell for, but the sharp barrel of a pistol dug into my back. “No! Don’t try anything slick, Assata. As Allah is my witness—I’ll kill you where you stand!” she cautioned.
Confusion swept through me, though I didn’t know why she was there, I knew exactly who the velvet voice belonged to. She nudged me with the weapon. “Walk!” she demanded.
I stood motionless for a second, I wanted to test that gangsta shit she was talkin’, but shawty had the ups on me, from my past builds with her.
I knew she wasn’t one to bluff—so, I began to walk. “What’s all this, ma, when you get—”
“Shut the fuck up!” she cut me off.
My blood raced through my veins as she directed me down a long narrow row of headstones. ‘Where the fuck is she takin’ me?’ I thought.
At that moment I kicked myself in the ass for leaving my tool with Jazmina. After about three minutes or so we were in the heart of the grounds.
“Stop!” she demanded. “Now, turn around—slowly. Don’t think I won’t kill you, Satta, on my brother’s soul I will!” she passionately vowed.
I turned to face her—slowly, as soon as our eyes met, I became even more conflicted. “Peace, God, how’ve you been?” she asked as if that was the most rational shit to say.
I never took my eyes off her as her name slipped from my lips, “Peace, Earth, I could be betta—” My eyes strayed to the gun she held steady. “—especially if you weren’t aiming a gun in my direction. What’s the bidness, Freedom?”
****
~Jazzy~
I absently rubbed my stomach—a soft smile curved my lips as I thought about the child that was forming inside me. I had found out that I was six weeks pregnant earlier in the week and had planned on telling Assata that night, but things changed when my baby’s face was plastered all over the TV screen. I glanced around.
“Come on, baby, we gotta go,” I whispered.
I gave him five more minutes, but impatience won out. I clutched the big pistol tightly in my small hands as I slid from the car. The night was cold and windy, but I had to brave it. My baby had been gone too long. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong—I could feel it. Slowly, I made my way through the long rows of headstones—I wasn’t sure where Lovey’s was, but I remembered that it wasn’t too far from Shy’s. I shivered as I navigated through the night and once I made it to my brother's plot, I began to search for Lovey’s headstone. I was on the verge of calling out to Assata when a woman’s voice carried on the wind.
I paused when I heard the malice in her voice, “Look at it!” she spat.
My stomach twisted Assata was in trouble. I squeezed the handle on the gun before heading in the direction of their voices.
****
~Assata~
“Look at it!” she yelled.
She used the barrel of the gun to point at a neglected patch of earth. Unlike the many others, this one had no tombstone. The only indication that it was a grave there was the small square piece of metal and plastic that told of who rested there. I recognized it as one of the tags they placed on a grave when the dead’s loved ones couldn’t afford a headstone. I looked back up at Free with an uncertain expression on my face.
I didn’t have shit to do with that person not being able to afford a proper burial. “Sup, ma, you want to buy a headstone or something?” I asked only half joking. I was lost—confused and pressed for time. ‘Fuck was going on? When did she get back? How did she know I’d be at the cemetery? More importantly, why the hell was Freedom aimin’ a gun at me?’ Question after question danced around in my head.
Lightning suddenly streaked the sky in a violent scar of light. It illuminated her facial features giving her a pale, demonic look. Her eyes were drowned in grief, Freedom was fighting demons that even a priest couldn’t cast out. She seemed to be praying or maybe she was talking to herself, but by the time her word
s made any sense to me, the sky had begun to cry.
“I got him Ja’Ron—you can rest in peace now,” she whispered.
‘What the fuck—fuck was Ja’Ron’? I thought.
Free must have noticed the confusion on my face. “Ja’Ron, this is, Assata—Assata, this is my brother, Ja’Ron.” She laughed as her eyes became submerged in water that had nothin’ to do with the rain. “Get on your knees—now!” she shouted as we both became soaked.
I merely stared. She may have had the upper hand, but if I was ‘bout to die, it wouldn’t be on my knees. ‘On gang!’ I thought.
“Oh—you think I’m playing with you!” Before I could respond fire shot from the barrel and knocked me backward.
My shoulder opened in a spray of blood. “Fuck wrong with you, you, dumb bitch!” I hissed as I clutched my shoulder. That shit was the worst feeling I’d ever felt. “Fuck!” I shouted. Murder bled into my pupils as I attempted to apply pressure to the wound.
“Next time you will be less arrogant,” she hissed with a crooked smile. “Now get on your knees!” she sounded like death itself.
Pride is one of the most dangerous things that a man with everything to lose has. I fought beyond mine and fell to my knees in a puddle of muddy water.
A satisfied smirk exploded on Free’s face. “Ja’Ron was my younger brother—he came to Texas to make a living. A dirty living, but that’s all he knew. My baby brother was all I had—my baby brother was taken away from my life by a heartless—animal of a man,” she whispered as lightning flashed again.
Free stepped closer, but her sudden moment wasn’t what caught my eye. In the distance, a shadow moved toward us. Jazzy had come for me. I trained my eyes on Free so she wouldn’t see the new found hope in my stare, but then her words were like a time machine that shot me back head first into a dark night.