by Mikal Malone
Carissa shrugged. “They hurt me already. What do I give a fuck?”
“I’m not talking about that kind of pain, Carissa. I’m talking about the kind that never dies.” She paused. “They thinking about torturing you so your friends will back away from the door.”
Carissa looked at the closed bedroom door and sighed. “But…my friends still gonna come in.”
“I don’t think they give a fuck.” Rambler swallowed. “It’s the only thing they can think of at the moment. So if you—”
“Let me out of this.” Carissa raised her arms. “Please! That way I can at least fight for my life.”
“I have one hand, Carissa. I mean look at me.” Rambler gazed down at her arm, which she tied closely to her body to prevent it from moving, causing excruciating pain. “My arm is broken.” She paused. “I’m of no use to you.”
Tears rolled down her face. “I can’t believe all of this is happening. It’s like I’m in a nightmare.”
“You ARE in a nightmare,” Rambler said.
The bedroom door came flying open and Wilson rushed inside.
Rambler moved out their way.
Corey untied the bind from the bed that held Carissa and Wilson grabbed her by her hair and dragged her through the open bedroom door. The sound of Yvette and her crew trying to get inside the Trap was now so loud it was deafening. Once at the door Wilson tossed her down, rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife he could find.
He moved quickly for Carissa and she squirmed again until he stole her in the nose, forcing her still. “YVETTE, I GOT YOUR FRIEND RIGHT HERE!” He yelled. “DO YOU HEAR ME? I’M LOOKING AT YOUR FUCKING FRIEND!”
Suddenly the noise stopped.
“Carissa,” Yvette said softly. “You there?”
Blood streamed out of Carissa’s nose from where Wilson hit her and into her mouth. With a trembling voice full of fear she said, “Yes…I’m here.” She paused. “Are you okay?” Yvette asked Carissa.
“Not even close, ‘Vette. I’m…I’m sorry.” Carissa swallowed the blood that filled her mouth. “I’m sorry for leaving and if Mercedes is with you, tell her I’m sorry too.”
“Don’t worry about all that, Carissa, you gonna be alright,” Yvette said. “I’m gonna get you out of there.”
“Not this time, ‘Vette,” Carissa cried. “Not this—”
Wilson kicked Carissa in the gut forcing her quiet. “I hate to break this party up but we have something to discuss,” Wilson said to the door. “I have what you want and you have what I want, Yvette.”
“And what the fuck is that?” Yvette asked. “Because I can’t wait to get my hands on you, nigga!” She kicked the door. “Do you hear me? I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!”
Wilson laughed. “I wanna see if you’ll still feel that way after what I’m about to do next.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
YVETTE
“Okay, Wilson. You got it this time.”
Me, Heavy and 88 stood outside the Trap door. Scott and Vance were holding the battering ram, which was making some headway.
Until Wilson made threats.
We suddenly were paused for the moment.
“What you talking about, Wilson?” I asked.
“Do you love your friend?” Wilson continued. “I mean do you really care about her? Like you claim to do?”
“You better stop fucking around!” I yelled taking a fist to the door. My skin so hot when I looked down at my arm it was strawberry red. “You making shit worse than ever for yourself. Whether you realize it or not, we getting in this apartment!”
“I asked a fuckin’ question.” Wilson said forcefully. “Do you love her or not?”
For some reason I thought about Mercedes who was sleeping in the apartment, recovering from a bullet wound. For a second I took in how angry she was when we left the shootout earlier and I realized why her rage went deeper. As much as she and Carissa fought they loved each other and I think I knew why.
It wasn’t about the grandchild they shared.
I think it was because when I was out in the trenches, during the Emerald City days, they were forced to grow closer.
It was me who held shit down and kept the soldiers in line.
It was me who made sure the product entered the city and was distributed properly.
I always knew my place in the organization because Thick taught me well but all they had was each other. And if we lost Carissa, like we did Kenyetta, it would be devastating for Mercedes.
And for me.
I took a deep breath and placed one hand on the dented Trap door. “I’m listening.”
“That’s better,” Wilson said. “What you gonna do is back away from this fucking door and then you gonna go down the hallway and off this floor. And you gonna do it now.”
“Why the fuck would I do—”
Suddenly I heard Carissa’s screeching cry and felt my blood boil. “KICK THIS FUCKING DOOR IN!” I yelled to Scott and Vance. “DO IT NOW!”
“YOU BETTER NOT!” Wilson yelled. “You not gonna kick shit in and I’m gonna tell you why.” He paused. “Your friend is screaming because I just ran a kitchen blade down her arm. I want you to know that the next one is going across her throat and then wrists. Now back away from the fucking door or stand by while I kill this whore! Now!”
“FUCK!” I yelled as I paced the area in front of me. I wanted this nigga’s blood so bad I felt like a vamp.
“We gotta do it, Yvette,” 88 whispered to me. “We gotta leave because he got the upper hand right now and we need to go back to the drawing board.” He paused and moved closer to her. “I’m not willing to take a chance with Carissa’s life and I know Mercedes wouldn’t either. I’m speaking for my girl right now, ‘Vette. Let’s go.”
I turned around and looked at my team before focusing on the door. “Okay, Wilson. You got it this time.”
“I can’t here you,” He laughed.
“I said you got it, nigga!” I yelled.
“I know I do.” He paused. “But to be sure I’m sending Kliyo out in five minutes. If he sees any one of you I’m killing this Indian looking bitch dead. After that who gives a fuck what happens to us. We all gonna die eventually.”
“Aight, Wilson!” I looked at my people. “Let’s go.” Slowly we crept away from the door.
Real slowly.
WILSON
Wilson looked out of the peephole and smiled when he saw everyone dispersed. He released the hold he had on Carissa’s hair and looked back at his crew. “They gone.” He looked down at Carissa and her bloody arm. “They fucking gone!” He said excitedly as if he was really winning. When he heard Carissa weeping he said, “Somebody take her in the fucking room. She’s ruining my good mood.”
Spotter and Corey rushed toward Carissa and each of them grabbed an arm. “You gonna die, nigga” Carissa yelled spitting blood on the floor. “Do you hear me, you gonna die!”
“Fuck you, bitch!” Wilson laughed. When Carissa was secured back in the bedroom and the door was closed, Corey and Spotter walked back into the living room. “Now do you believe me?” Wilson asked them. “Now do you—”
“If you think shit is ending like this you way outta your league, Wilson,” Corey said cutting him off. “Trust me when I say this shit just getting started.”
“All I know is this…one minute they were crashing through the door and the next they ain’t. Now I know it’s not the solution to our problem but it’s a start.”
“We need to be thinking on a plan to get out of here,” Spotter said. “I mean out the building. It’s not snowing no more but it won’t be long before they plow and their soldiers come through on some hunt shit.”
Wilson walked toward Kliyo who was sitting on the sofa looking up at him. “What?” He said with a major attitude. “Why you in my face all of a sudden? I thought I didn’t know you.”
“Get up, nigga,” Wilson said waving his hand. “You been running your mouth non stop and now its ti
me to earn your keep.” When he didn’t move Wilson got angrier. “I said get the fuck up before I punch you in the teeth!”
Kliyo’s eyes widened but he remained seated. “What you want me to do? I ain’t got no fucking gun.”
“You don’t need one. What you gonna do is go out in the hallway and make sure they’re gone,” he instructed. “When you finish you gonna come back and let me know. It’s simple. Now move.”
Kliyo rose slowly. “I can’t go out there, they think I’m with ya’ll now. Because of all the lies you made me tell them on the phone. That means if they haven’t gone the first thing they gonna do is shoot me in the face. Fuck that shit. I’m staying right here.”
“You getting shot in the face is not my problem or concern. Truth is I could care less. Should’ve never let them bitches in here.” He laughed.
“But it’s hot out there right now, man.” Kliyo pleaded. “Come on, don’t make me do this. If I walk into the hallway I’m basically committing suicide.”
Wilson placed the cool barrel of his gun against Kliyo’s temple. “Nigga, it’s about to get hotter in here too. Now take your bitch ass out in the hallway and see if they’re gone. I’m not ‘bout to ask you again.”
“Fuck! This wrong as shit, man." Kliyo moped to the door so slowly it was as if he was moving backwards. Finally with a yank and a shove he pushed the dented door open. He looked out and looked back at Wilson. “It’s clear.”
“Nigga…walk all the way out!” Wilson yelled. “Stupid ass mothafucka!”
Mad at the world, Kliyo walked into the hallway, the door slamming behind him. It smelled of gunpowder like a firework session on the fourth of July. Doors to the left of the apartment were kicked in and hanging out.
Gun shells were everywhere.
Dead bodies of those who originally tried to shoot at Yvette and Mercedes were lying in the apartments.
It took only a moment for him to discern the obvious. It was empty, true enough, but there was one person waiting.
Quietly.
Yvette.
He was about to run until she said, “Don’t be afraid. I got a message for you that I want you to pass on.”
“Yee…yessss,” he said, his voice trembling.
“Tell Wilson when its time for me to kill ya’ll niggas, I kissed the bullet that belongs to him. He’s gonna die by my hand personally…believe that.” She walked away and out of sight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HEAVY
“That’s gonna be impossible considering the gunplay taking place around here.”
Heavy paced the living room floor trying to figure out how he tied into all of this mess. His mind was racing but when he looked over at Yvette she seemed extra strong and he started falling for her even more. As much as everything was coming down on her, she seemed unmoved.
He never met a woman like that before and if she left him he doubted he’d ever would again.
Heavy placed a hand on her shoulder. “’Vette, you okay?”
She looked up at him and gave him a half smile. “Don’t…don’t worry about me in that way. I’m not helpless, Heavy. I told you that already.”
He removed his hand and took a deep breath. “I know, bae. But that’s gonna be impossible considering the gunplay taking place around here.”
“Still, I don’t need that type of attention right now.”
She walked up to Shelly B, Vance, Damper, Scott and 88 with Heavy following. “They have us where they want us for the moment. I’m gonna need more men who can’t get in this building until this snow melts. It’s not coming down anymore but—”
Dukes, Rocky and Kisha came out into the living room cautiously. “Go back in there with Mercedes,” Yvette told them. “I don’t want your eyes coming off of her until she’s out of that bed.” Kisha immediately turned around with an attitude and walked back into the bedroom.
“We have an idea,” Rocky said to Yvette. “To help you get them out of the apartment.”
Yvette turned toward them. “And what is that?”
“They can’t stay in the Trap. I’m talking about Wilson and them.” Rocky said. “They know you’re gunning for them so they’ll need to hide before the snow gets plowed. That way they’ll get a ride out maybe with your coke and friend.”
“And?” Yvette shrugged. “Get to the point quicker.”
“That’s where me and Dukes come in. We can be their escape plan.”
Yvette grinned. “I’m listening.”
WILSON
Wilson sipped on a whiskey while looking out of the window. He closed the blind and sat on the sofa. “They should be coming to get us in any minute. I just got off the phone with my cousin. All we have to do is—”
“Nigga, ain't nobody coming to save us!” Spotter yelled. “Either we get out of this bitch on our own or we don’t! But please stop feeding us fairy tales.”
Wilson looked up at him, put the glass on the floor. “You gotta have a better attitude about this shit. It’s because of me you still breathing.”
Spotter wiped his hand down his face. “I’m walking out of here and I’m walking out now.”
“Good, go ahead,” Wilson, laughed. “Because I’m gonna wait on—”
“Have you ever stopped to realize that just like we waiting on our ride, that Yvette and ‘em are waiting on their cavalry too?” Corey continued. “I wonder which crew will get here first. Your weed-head cousin and his fat bitch, or the forty seven niggas C and them bitches bringing.”
Wilson‘s jaw twitched. “Since you so smart what do you think we should do?”
“Now he listens,” Corey responded. “This is my idea…we take the coke and find somebody’s apartment in this building and hide out.”
Wilson stood up slowly and scratched his head. “That’s a good idea…a real good one.” He paused. “But when the forty seven niggas you talking about get here, what’s to stop them from kicking in all 98 doors in this building until they find us?”
Corey moved closer. “You thinking too small, Wilson. You gotta think bigger. Even if they spread out they not getting in these doors at the same time. If we get into another apartment we can wait them out and meet your cousin and his bitch. We jump in his truck and we’ll be home free. Coke and all.”
Wilson nodded and pointed at him. “Yeah…so all we gotta do is grab an apartment on the ground floor. So we’ll be closer to an exit.”
“No…they’ll check their first but guess where they won’t think we’re dumb enough to hide…on this floor right here.”
Wilson smiled. “Let me find out you’re not as stupid as I thought.” He rubbed his hands together. “So this is what we gonna do, we’re gonna go find an apartment that’s—”
“Bitch, I’m not fucking around with you! Get out of my apartment!” They heard a woman yell down the other side of the hall, outside of the Trap house. It was away from the stairwell. Yvette and her crew didn’t have to kick in those doors because they were on the opposite side of apartment #745.
Wilson grabbed his hammer and moved to the door before looking out the peephole. “I can’t see them but I think they on the other side of us.” He looked back at his men. “I’m about to find out.” He paused. “Come with me, Spotter. Corey you stay and watch the bitch.” He pointed at him. “I want to make sure the coast is clear before we take her out of here.”
Kliyo stood up. “What about me?”
Wilson smiled at him and said, “Oh yeah…you can hold this…” He shot him in the stomach.
RAMBLER
Carissa looked up at Rambler after hearing the gunshot from Wilson shooting Kliyo, fearing the worst had yet to happen. Grace was in the corner on the phone and Quinton’s corpse stunk up the room even more.
“Did you hear that gunshot?” Carissa asked them. “It’s about to happen. They gonna kill me. Please let me out.”
“Like I keep telling you I can’t do shit,” Rambler said. “I might have been involved in the original plan but now
it’s not me…you gotta talk to her.” She pointed to Grace.
Grace got off of the call and walked toward them. Looking at Rambler she said, “That was Heavy. He said he’s gonna get us out of here once things calm down and Yvette’s men get here.”
Rambler frowned. “Now why would he do that? This is mostly our fault. If anything he’s gonna snatch us and kill us to prove himself to her.”
“He’ll do it,” Grace frowned. “He’ll save us. Plus he knows that I never meant for any of this to happen. Trust me, in all of my life he’s never let me down. Even if he’s mad at me.”
Rambler sighed. “Open your fuckin eyes, bitch! He’s letting you down now! You did all of this for him and don’t have nothing to show for it.”
“That’s your view of things Rambler, please don’t ask me to make them mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WILSON
“Do you know about what’s been going on in this building? With the bullets flying?”
After some quick investigation on their part, Wilson and Spotter discovered where the commotion was coming from as they walked into the hallway. Wilson focused on Dukes and Rocky fighting outside of their apartment and tilted his head. He’d seen them around Marjorie but didn’t have any real conversation for them either which way.
But now he was interested.
Wilson immediately looked at Spotter and smiled. “We’re up,” he whispered. “Let’s make this situation work for us. Quick before Yvette and them come back.”
The two men rushed up to the women before they could go back inside of their apartment. Instead of scaring them to death by putting a weapon to their heads, Wilson hid his gun in his jeans, placed his palms in the air and decided to play the mediator. “Now, now, ladies, what’s this about?” Every other second he’d look down the opposite end of the hallway to be sure Yvette and her crew wasn’t creeping.