Wrath

by K'wan

  “I was raised in the house of God. Have I ever told you that?” Detective Ceaver asked over his shoulder. Jonas didn’t even realize he knew he was there.

  “No,” Jonas said.

  “Sure was.” The detective rose and took a seat on the bench next to Jonas. “When my father would minister the Word, I was the faithful son right there at his side. My father was my hero. I took everything he said as the gospel—until I realized that it was all bullshit. There’s nothing more hurtful for a son than to find out that his father wasn’t who he thought him to be.”

  “I know a thing or two about that,” Jonas said, thinking of his father and the conflicting stories about how he died.

  “Of course, you do,” Detective Ceaver nodded in agreement. “So, how’s my little avenging angel doing today?”

  Jonas shrugged. “I can’t complain. If I did, who would listen?”

  “I would. You can always come to me if you have a problem. It doesn’t matter how big or small. Never forget that.”

  Jonas nodded.

  “Enough about all the sentimental shit. On to business. I spoke to my guys a few days ago at the lawyer’s office. All the paperwork is done. The only thing left to do is have your friend go down to the office and sign off. Before we do all that, I need to ask . . . Are you sure you can trust her?”

  Jonas shrugged. “I don’t trust anyone, but she’ll do what needs to be done.”

  Ceaver nodded. “I just wanted to make sure you’re certain. This is a big step for you.”

  “Can’t play street corner games forever. I need to boss up.” He repeated Prince’s words.

  “And boss up you shall, my young friend. That’s one of the reasons I’ve called you here. I know you’ve had a busy day, so I won’t keep you long,” Detective Ceaver said with a hint of a smirk. “I have a problem that I need a little help with it.”

  “Tell me what you need, and it’s done,” Jonas said without hesitation. The detective had helped him out of more than a few jams. He owed him.

  “That’s why I like you, Wrath. You understand the importance of loyalty and are always willing to help a friend in need. You’re a good soldier, but you’ll be a better general when your time comes. Anyhow, a few years ago, I helped out another wayward soul. Much like you, I took him out of the gutter and put him on the path to greatness. He’s been doing quite well for himself over the last few years, and I’m afraid it’s starting to go to his head. I need him humbled . . . for good.”

  This was unexpected. Since the night they met when Jonas had stabbed Eight-Ball, Ceaver had never asked him to murder anyone. At least not outright. Jonas had blasted a few people in the line of handling the detective’s business, but that was collateral damage. This was a request.

  “Wrath?” Detective Ceaver was waiting for an answer.

  “I got you. Just give me his résumé, and he’s gone.”

  “That’s the type of enthusiasm I like in my guys.” Detective Ceaver clapped his hands gleefully. “Now, let me be up front with you. This guy is no pushover. He’s got no problem with killing, and neither do the guys he surrounds himself with.”

  “I’ll get Ace to handle it with me.”

  “No, not him. I know he’s your friend, but I don’t trust Ace. There’s something about the set of his eyes that I don’t like,” Detective Ceaver said. “Not Mula either. Besides, they’re all too close to this.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jonas asked.

  “We’ll get to that,” the detective assured him. “This is a sensitive matter, and one that I’m sure you’ll find well worth your time and trouble.”

  “How much?”

  Detective Ceaver chuckled. “You always with the money. One thing that you should’ve learned from all the time you’ve spent around me is that some things are more valuable than cash.”

  “Like what?”

  “Revenge,” the detective said. “Not that money isn’t always a factor. I happen to have it on good authority that at the time of his untimely demise, he’ll just happen to be sitting on a good amount of cash and probably drugs. All you find . . . all you keep, same as usual. This includes all territories previously promised to your victim. He has command over three buildings which he runs drugs out of. That added to your already-growing territories will make you quite the power player. I want you to not only take him out but erase all memory of him. Anyone who happens to be there goes along for the ride too.”

  “This guy must’ve really pissed you off.” Jonas had never seen the detective quite so animate about getting rid of someone.

  “My beef with him is over money. Yours is over blood,” Detective Ceaver told him.

  “You lost me,” Jonas said.

  “Wrath, what would you say if I told you that doing this for me could kill two birds with one bullet? That by killing this man, you can not only send a message on my behalf but also settle an old score?”

  “I’d say, give me a name.”

  The detective smiled. Wrath’s reaction had been no less than what he had expected. “His mother named him Robert, but on the streets, he’s known as Flair.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Jonas left St. John’s Church with quite a bit to think about. In the years since Doug was gone, they had never known who his killer was. Mula had dispatched Brian before they could pry the secret loose. They had to charge it to the game, but it had never sat well with Jonas. That was the one name he had always wanted to add to his list of corpses. Thanks to the detective, he finally could.

  It was ironic in a way, the timing of it all. The same day Jonas got back in touch with Alex, the name of her brother’s killer had suddenly fallen into his lap. It had to have been the universe sending Jonas a sign that he was moving in the right direction.

  When Jonas got back to the hood, the first thing he did was check in at the trap house. It was an apartment inside of a building on 138th and Eighth. That was the strip Drew gave them to hustle on when they started. Since then, they had claimed six other blocks as their own, but 138th was their hub. Everything they did flowed through that apartment.

  Jonas climbed the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door of the trap house in a coded pattern. A few minutes later, the locks on the other side came undone. A smoker, Paula, opened the door. The apartment belonged to her. She was in her early thirties but looked closer to forty. She was wearing a floral housecoat and slippers. Erect nipples poked through the fabric. Though she was an addict, Paula still had a nice body. A few of the homies had smashed, but Jonas never did.

  “Sup, Wrath?” Paula greeted him with a yellow-toothed smile.

  “Chilling. Who all up in there?” he asked.

  “The usual suspects. Everybody in the living room.”

  Jonas brushed past her and walked down the hall toward the living room. Under his feet the floor was sticky, so it made a funny noise when he walked. He could smell the heavy stench of weed coming from the living room. When he bent the corner, he frowned. At least half a dozen people were hanging out, smoking, and drinking beer. Jonas didn’t like anybody in the spot who wasn’t serving a purpose. Too much traffic would make the spot hot. If they lost Paula’s crib, they wouldn’t have anywhere else to conduct their business.

  Mula and Tavion sat at the table, stuffing baggies with crack rocks. Jonas took a mental assessment of the drugs on the table and reasoned they would have to re-up soon, which was a good thing. Business had started picking up, but it still wasn’t enough to mark them as anything other than small-time hustlers. Hopefully, when he took care of Flair for the detective, things would change.

  Ace sat in an armchair near the window. A fat blunt dangled between his lips and a beer was clutched in his mitt. On his lap was a young girl that Jonas had seen around the neighborhood. He knew that Ace had been trying to fuck her for a while, and from the way she was smiling, it probably wouldn’t be too much longer before he got into her pants. It seemed like all Ace did was smoke weed and ch
ase pussy.

  When Jonas’s eyes drifted to the couch, his mood darkened. Two girls sat there; one was rolling up weed, while the other was pouring Hennessey into a plastic cup. The girl pouring the liquor was Stacey. She was brown-skinned and a bit on the chubby side, with hair that she always wore in a tight bun atop her head. With her pink glasses resting on the bridge of her thick nose, she had a bookish look about her. She was Paula’s niece. She used to come by after school and help them bag up drugs for extra money, but when Jonas peeped how smart she was, he realized her talents were being wasted. She was now a part of upper management. Stacey kept the books and handled whatever clerical tasks Jonas had needed. It had been her idea to always set aside a small part of their monthly income in a reserve in case the boys needed lawyers or bail money. She was almost as valuable to Jonas as Ace was, sometimes more.

  The other girl Jonas hadn’t ever recalled seeing in the spot. She was light-skinned, wearing a too-tight dress, and a face full of makeup. Her eyes had been locked on Jonas since he walked in the house.

  Sandwiched between the two girls, and looking like he was having the time of his life, was Cal. Jonas had specifically told Ace to keep him at a distance, but here he was smack in the middle of their operation, taking it all in. It was officially time for Jonas and Ace to have a serious conversation about protocols.

  “What’s good, Wrath?” Ace greeted him.

  “You tell me,” Jonas said sharply, looking from Ace to Cal.

  “Ain’t nothing. We in here getting to this money,” Ace said coolly.

  “Look like y’all in here partying to me. What I tell you about having a hundred niggas in the spot?”

  “Man, calm your paranoid ass down. Everybody here is solid. I got this shit under control,” Ace replied like it wasn’t a big deal. He didn’t like the fact that Jonas had checked him in front of people.

  “Sometime I wonder,” Jonas mumbled.

  “What’s up, Wrath? You too big to speak now?” the girl with the face full of makeup got his attention.

  Jonas was trying to figure out why she was speaking to him, but when he studied her face, he realized that they had met before. It was the girl who had come to the house the day Yvette and his mom had gotten into it, Shauna. “Oh, what’s good? Been a minute.”

  “Yeah, last time I saw you, you were a little kid. You ain’t so little anymore,” Shauna said, openly eyeing him. He returned her gaze.

  “What’s up, Wrath? No love for your boy,” Cal announced himself as if Jonas hadn’t seen him sitting there.

  “What’s good?” Jonas replied dryly. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

  “Yeah, Ace invited me up to enjoy some friendly hospitality.” Cal draped his arm around Shauna, marking his territory. “Y’all got a nice little setup going. Real nice. I was telling Ace that I got a homeboy who’s getting a lot of money down in Richmond. The shit y’all are selling for twenty goes for fifty out there. I thought maybe y’all can do something together. It’s nothing for me to set up a meeting.”

  “Fo’sho,” Jonas said. He had no intentions on doing business with anybody Cal brought to the table.

  “You want me to pour you a drink, Wrath?” Stacey offered.

  “No, thanks. I ain’t staying long. I got somewhere to be,” he told her.

  “My man, Wrath. Always on the move,” Ace said sarcastically.

  “Let me holla at you for a second, Ace.” Jonas started toward the bedroom without waiting to see if he was following.

  Ace purposely waited for a few beats before sliding the girl off his lap and getting up. “I’ll be back,” he told his company.

  In the bedroom, Paula was sitting on the edge of the bed. She had a small glass tube, stuffed with crack, to her lips. She was about to fire it up when Jonas walked in.

  “Give us the room for a sec, Paula,” he told her.

  “Sure thing, Wrath.” She tucked the tube into the pocket of her housecoat and left the room.

  “So, what’s so important that you dragged me away from the little party we got going on?” Ace asked.

  “That’s just it. You’re in here partying when you’re supposed to be handling business. You know better than that, Ace,” Jonas scolded him.

  “I told you, everybody is solid.” Ace sucked his teeth.

  “Nigga, besides Mula and Tavion, you can’t vouch for nobody else in that room! Ace, we gotta move smarter than this, man. All it takes is somebody chatting about what they’ve seen in this apartment, and either the police or the stickup boys are gonna kick this door in. I ain’t trying to fuck my shit up over a good time.”

  “Don’t you mean our shit?” Ace questioned. “I know you’re the one who got the ball rolling, Wrath, but sometimes you act like we didn’t build this shit together. It’s like we’re your workers instead of your crew.”

  “It ain’t like that, Ace. You know I’d never put myself above the team, but somebody has to be the voice of reason around here. I got something lined up that could potentially take us to the next level, but I gotta know that the people around me are ready to take that step.”

  “You know I’m ten toes down for whatever, whenever. All you gotta do is tell me what the play is,” Ace said.

  Jonas considered telling him about the conversation he’d had with the detective, about him finding out the name of Doug’s killer. Ace had just as much a right to the man’s blood as Jonas, if not more. Doug had been the one to put Ace on his feet. Had he not blessed Ace with the weed connect, maybe none of them would have gotten into the game. Or worse, they could all be working for Drew on the block. Jonas decided it would be a bad idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ace. Ace was a pain in the ass, but he was still the closest thing Jonas had to a brother. He just didn’t want to run the risk of it getting back to Ceaver that he had talked. The detective seemed to know everything. “I’ll fill you in later. Right now, I need you to get all of these people out of the spot. Especially Cal.”

  “Why you going so hard with this Cal business? He just came home from a bid, and he’s already trying to put food on our table. I think we should look into his people in Richmond.”

  “And I think you’re speeding,” Jonas shot back. “Where the fuck we know these niggas from? Shit, we don’t even know how well we know Cal just yet. Let’s not jump the gun and fuck ourselves up.”

  “But this is Cal, not some stranger. He’s one of ours, and we look out for our own,” Ace reminded him.

  “I hear you, Ace, and I’m not disagreeing with you. All I’m saying is slow down,” Jonas cautioned. “Look, if you wanna put Cal on, I ain’t gonna stop you. Give him a package . . . Hell, give him a whole block if you want to; just be mindful you don’t feed him too much too soon.”

  “I’m telling you, Cal is solid,” Ace insisted.

  “You willing to stake your life on it?”

  There was a brief pause before he answered. “Yeah.”

  “Good, because you just did.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  After Jonas left the trap house, he headed home. He was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to lie down and catch a quick nap, but he still had things to do. The first would be to shower and then change his clothes. He stank of gunpowder, drugs, and cigarettes.

  The sun had gone down, which was a good thing. It would be a lot easier for him to slip in and out of his building undetected under the cover of night. This would make it harder for Jewels to spot him. He had been ducking her since earlier that day. She had been blowing his phone up, but Jonas had chosen not to answer. He didn’t know what to say to her. Seeing Alex had stirred old feelings Jonas thought long dead, and he was still trying to sort them out. Jewels had been his right hand and lover for years. She was loyal, street smart, and fine as hell, but she wasn’t Alex. It wasn’t that he loved her any less; he just loved her in a different way.

  Jonas managed to slip into his building without bumping into Jewels, which was a blessing. He felt like a crab f
or ducking her, but it was what it was. He would deal with Jewels in his own time. He had bigger problems that needed his attention. This would become more apparent when he walked into his apartment. He found his mother and his sister Anette sitting in the living room, watching TV and eating ice cream. “Hey, y’all,” Jonas greeted them.

  “Hi, baby,” Janette greeted him. Anette just nodded. They both looked exhausted.

  “You seen Jewels? She came by here looking for you twice,” Anette told him.

  “I’ll catch up with her,” Jonas said. Jewels was the last thing on his mind at that moment. “Where’s Jo-Jo?” he asked, noticing that his baby sister was missing. The two things she loved most were television and ice cream, so for her to be skipping out on both was strange.

  “She’s lying down. Wasn’t feeling too hot this evening,” Anette told him.

  “The chemo?” Jonas asked. He knew how much of a toll the treatments took on his sister. Sometimes, she’d be fine for a day or so after getting treatment, and then she would slip into a lethargic state that made it hard for her to do anything other than lie in bed.

  “I swear, it’s hard to watch my baby suffer like this,” Janette said.

  “I know, Ma, but the treatments are for her own good. They’re the only thing that’s going to make her better,” he said.

  “So they say,” Anette cut in. “You know they make more money off the treatment than they do the actual cure. People with money don’t have to go through all this shit.”

  “Well, we don’t have no money, so ain’t much we can do except endure and put our faith in God,” Janette said sadly.

  “We’ve been waiting on God for years, and he ain’t came through for us yet,” Jonas capped.

  “Don’t be talking like that, Jonas. We need to keep the faith, all of us,” Janette insisted.

  “Whatever. I’m going to check on Jo-Jo,” Jonas said and headed toward the back. He wished he had as much faith as his mom did, but he had suffered through too much to believe in miracles.