Wrath

by K'wan

  He tapped on the door before letting himself in. Jo-Jo was nestled in her bed, watching cartoons on the nineteen-inch television that sat atop the tall dresser. She looked paler than usual in the light of the television. The few strands of hair that hadn’t fallen out due to the treatment hung from beneath the scarf wrapped around her head. Her glassy eyes turned to Jonas, and she mustered a weak smile.

  “Hi, Jonas.”

  “How’s my special girl?” Jonas sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her on the forehead. “I got something for you.” He pulled a Snicker bar from his pocket. They were Jo-Jo’s favorite.

  “Thanks, I’ll eat it later,” she told him. She never turned down chocolate . . . ever.

  “Okay, well, I’ll leave you alone and let you rest.” Jonas got up and made to leave when her small voice stopped him.

  “Am I going to die?”

  The question gripped Jonas around the heart and squeezed. “No, of course not. You’re going to be fine, Jo-Jo.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me, Jonas. I’m not a baby anymore,” she said. She was trying to be strong.

  Jonas went and knelt beside the bed. He took her small hands in his and noticed that they were cold. “Josette, you’re going to be fine.”

  “Sometimes it hurts so much that I think death might be better,” Jo-Jo admitted. “Death wouldn’t be so bad. I’d get to see Daddy again, and the pain would be gone.”

  “You hush that dying talk, you hear me? You are going to be fine. Your big brother is going to make sure that you beat this thing, Jo-Jo. You just gotta trust me. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, I trust you, Jonas.”

  “Good, then you just keep fighting, and everything is going to be okay.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  He had barely made it out of the room before the tears started falling. He hated seeing his little sister in such agony and being powerless to do anything about it. His mom and Sweets had faith that God would come through and perform some miracle, but Jonas did not. He had been waiting for God to show up his entire life, and he had yet to show his face. If Jo-Jo was going to get the help she needed, it would be up to him to make it happen.

  * * *

  Jonas never made it back outside that night. He was so drained, emotionally and physically, that after he took a shower, he ended up lying across his bed and passing out. He had never been a sound sleeper. That night was more fitful than most. Dreams of death plagued him.

  In one dream, he was standing trial for murder. The courtroom was full of people he knew from the neighborhood: Ace, Prince, Mula, and Fat Moe. Even Doug was there to bear witness. Doug was still wearing the gray suit he had been buried in.

  Presiding over the trial was Detective Louis Ceaver. A long, black robe had replaced his usual leather and denim, and a colonial-style wig covered his spiked blond hair. He invited the prosecutor, Juan, to call his first witness. A woman took the stand, dressed in silk pajamas like she had been pulled out of bed to give her testimony. She was quite attractive, save for the leaking bullet wound at her temple.

  The jury, which was comprised of his mother and all his sisters, watched Jonas with accusatory eyes while the victim of the crime sat on the stand recounting the details of how she had been added to Wrath’s list of kills. Jonas had never seen her a day in his life; yet, here was this woman trying to convince a jury of his family that he had been the one responsible for her murder.

  There was no need for deliberation. The guilty verdict was instant. In the eyes of the Rafferty women, he was indeed the monster the victim on the stand had painted him out to be. The verdict came swiftly, and the sentence just as swiftly.

  “For your crimes, I sentence you to a life of doing what you do best,” Detective Ceaver said with a maniacal laugh.

  A scythe appeared in Jonas’s hands. It was a sinister-looking tool with a long, black shaft and a curved blade that shone so brightly that Jonas almost couldn’t look at it. Before he realized what was happening, he was stalking toward the jury box where his family sat. He was powerless to stop himself as he raised the scythe above his head and cut his mother down. Sweets was next, and the twins got it with the next stroke. He then moved to little Josette, who was staring up at him with questioning eyes.

  “Am I going to die, Wrath?” Jo-Jo repeated the question she had asked him earlier. Only this time when she called him Wrath, he didn’t correct her.

  Jonas looked at her. Tears burned his eyes and a lump formed in his throat that was threatening to choke him. “Yes,” he sobbed before bringing the blade down and taking off her head.

  * * *

  Jonas woke, kneeling beside his bed and gasping for air. His heart thudded so hard in his chest that he feared it would burst. Clutched in his hands was a baseball bat. The wood was old and starting to rot, but you could still make out deep red stains at the end of it from when he had bashed Black’s skull in years before. The bat was one of the few things that could link Jonas to that crime, and it would’ve probably been best to get rid of it, but something about it brought him comfort.

  Just then, he remembered Jo-Jo. Tossing the bat, he hustled down the hall to the girl’s room and pushed the door in. What he saw almost made him faint. The room was empty. Jo-Jo’s bed was mussed, and there was a large bloodstain on her pillow. “God, no!” he gasped, fearing the worse.

  “Jonas?” a small voice called from down the hall. He turned and saw Jo-Jo coming out of the bathroom. There was a wad of tissue stuck in her nose.

  “Oh, my sweet sister!” Jonas rushed to her. He snatched Jo-Jo off her feet and spun her around joyfully. “I thought something had happened to you.”

  “Relax, it was just a nosebleed,” Jo-Jo assured him.

  “What’s all this noise out here?” Janette came out of her room.

  “Nothing, Ma. Nothing at all,” Jonas said, still clutching Jo-Jo in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Jonas took another shower before dressing and hitting the streets. He was glad that his family was well, but the dream still had him on edge. Jonas wasn’t much of a believer in God, but he did believe in the universe and the signs it sent. The dream had been an omen. One which he fully intended to take heed to. He needed to start doing things differently.

  The streets were his bread and butter, but so far, the risks were outweighing the rewards. If going down in a blaze of glory was how his story would end, he was fine with that, but he’d be damned if he would go out and leave his family living from hand to mouth. His best bet was to get up the money to get in on Prince’s London deal. He wasn’t sure how he would get the money up but was determined to figure it out.

  He still had some time before he had to go and meet Alex, so he decided to stop by the trap house. He wanted to follow up and make sure everything was good, and besides that, he needed to holla at Stacey. He needed her to go to the lawyer’s office to sign off on the final paperwork. He’d wanted to run things down to her the day before but had gotten sidetracked by the business with Ace and Cal. They needed to start moving things along, so he couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Ceaver had been against the idea of using Stacey because he didn’t trust anyone outside of Jonas, and even that was sometimes up for question, but Jonas had faith. Since Jonas had put her on, Stacey did everything he required of her without question. She was a good soldier, but her real test was yet to come.

  As Jonas neared the corner, he slowed and surveyed the location of where Juan’s store once stood. The neighborhood grocery store where his family, as well as the rest of the neighborhood, had shopped since he was a kid was now gone. In its place was a burned down husk. Soon, the contractors would come in and start construction on what would replace the store, a social club. It was an unexpected series of events that had been orchestrated by none other than Jonas.

  For years, Jonas walked around carrying resentment toward Juan. He would sit on his stoop and watch in disgust as the store owner lured unsuspecting young girls in and o
ut of the store to trade sexual favors for groceries and other gifts. Juan was a parasite, and something needed to be done about him, but just what he was still unsure. Killing him outright was always an option, but Jonas wanted to make a statement. For weeks, months, he plotted on ways deal with the man, and then an opportunity finally presented itself.

  The word was that Juan was the latest to fall victim to the drug epidemic that was spreading like wildfire through the American ghettos. He started, as most addicts do, just chipping, and the next thing he knew, Juan had a monkey on his back. Jonas would sometimes see him skulking around, buying drugs from some of his workers. Jonas always told them that whenever they saw Juan, give him more drugs than he actually paid for. This was all a part of his grand scheme.

  It wasn’t long before Juan’s habit started affecting his business. He was burning through his line of credit with his suppliers, and eventually, started falling behind in the rent on the property. It wouldn’t be long before he lost the store. This was when Jonas stepped in. Through Lou, he’d had an investor approach Juan about saving the store, which by some was considered a landmark. It had been in his family for three generations. For the promise of a quick cash infusion, Juan was to sign over the majority stake in his grocery store. He took the deal without giving it so much as a second thought. This was when the other shoe dropped.

  While Juan’s business was being stolen out from under him, he had been too concerned with pussy and powder even to notice. Jonas felt it his civic duty to bring it to his attention. He waited until late one night when he knew only Juan would be in the store. Jonas waited until he had seen the last customer leave and Juan flip the closed sign before he approached. Getting inside wasn’t a problem. He had stolen a copy of the keys from José one night while they had been drinking beers and debating sports. José was a good guy, but his trusting nature and low tolerance for alcohol would prove to be his undoing. While he was in the back throwing up, Jonas had snatched the key.

  Using his stolen key, he let himself into the store. He was wearing a hood, gloves, and carrying a backpack that contained Juan’s going-away present. When he got inside the store, he didn’t see any sign of Juan behind the counter, so he walked to the back room. It was there that he found the store owner, with a girl of about 14. Juan was in the process of working the girl’s panties down when he realized that he wasn’t alone.

  “Yo, muthafucka, we’re closed!” Juan said, snatching his pants up.

  “Just came to see if my mom could get a loaf of bread on credit,” Jonas said, pulling his hood off.

  “Raf?” Juan was surprised to see him.

  “These days, it’s Wrath, but we’ll get to that,” Jonas said with ice in his tone. He turned to the girl, who looked scared. “Good little girls should get home before the streetlights come on. Monsters are hiding in the dark.”

  The girl didn’t need much more of a warning than that. She collected her things and got out of the store as fast as she could.

  “I see you’re still out here fucking with babies,” Jonas said.

  “Hey, she said she was 18!” Juan lied. “Look, if this is about your sister, you don’t have to worry. I listened to what you said and stayed away from her. I never touched her.”

  “You may as well have because it isn’t going to change the ending of your movie.” Jonas slid the knapsack off his back and placed it on the floor. There was the clang of something metal inside. “Have a seat, Juan.” He motioned toward an empty folding chair. Juan was hesitant. Jonas pulled his gun and pointed it at him. “I’m not going to ask you twice.”

  Nervously, Juan took the seat. He watched as Jonas began removing the items from the knapsack. There was a roll of duct tape, a pair of handcuffs, and a canister of gasoline. “Put these on.” He tossed the handcuffs to Juan.

  “Wrath, before you do anything stupid, just know that I’ve got cameras all over this place,” Juan warned.

  “Cameras that haven’t worked properly in years. Your brother gets awful chatty once he’s had a few drinks,” Jonas laughed. “Now, either you can cuff yourself to the chair, or I can shoot you in the head. It’s your call.”

  Juan did as he was told. “Wrath, if you just tell me what this is about, I’m sure we can work it out.”

  “This is about me getting you the help you so desperately need.” Jonas began pacing a circle around Juan. “For years, I’ve watched you usher young girls in and out of this place, doing only God knows what with them here in this back room. I had always hated you for it until I began to see the bigger picture. You can’t help yourself, Juan. What you have is a sickness, and I am the cure.”

  There was a sharp pinch in Juan’s neck, followed by something being pumped into his vein.

  “What the fuck was that?” he asked, fearing that Jonas had poisoned him.

  “Some of the best heroin money can buy.” Jonas showed him the empty hypodermic needle. “No sense in making this unpleasant. I’m not a complete animal.”

  “C’mon, Wrath. You ain’t gotta do this,” Juan pleaded. His words were beginning to slur as the high-powered dope began to take effect.

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Jonas picked up the gas can and stood before Juan, who was going into a nod. “You and this store have stood as a beacon of what’s wrong with this community. Tonight, I will cleanse this neighborhood of your taint once and for all. Your death will signal the coming of a new day . . . the day of reckoning.”

  Juan was finding it hard to focus. His head lolled up, and he could see Jonas lighting a cigarette. “Jonas,” he said weakly.

  “I am Wrath!” Jonas declared before tossing the cigarette onto Juan’s lap and sending him up in a ball of flame.

  Jonas stood across the street watching as Juan’s store burned to the ground with him inside it. He found himself suddenly filled with something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Then he realized what it was that he was feeling . . . relief.

  It took nearly forty minutes for the fire department to finally show up and put the fire out. By the time they got it under control, there was nothing left of the store except a melted counter and the remains of the owner. When they investigated the fire, they would discover that Juan had been high in the back, smoking, and fell asleep. It was officially ruled an accident, thanks to Lou’s contacts within the fire inspectors. Once again, the detective had come through for him. The neighborhood residents would have to find somewhere else to shop, but it was a small price to pay to ensure the safety of their children. He was proud knowing that the mothers in his community would be able to sleep well that night, knowing that he had slain the beast.

  Jonas had scraped together almost every dime he had to pay the contractors who would restore the property. To him, it was worth it. For the first time in his life, he would actually own something of value besides clothes and guns. The social club probably wouldn’t be much in the beginning, but over time, he would grow it, and, hopefully, it would birth other more profitable businesses. Businesses that would feed his family for generations to come. Boss the fuck up.

  “Crazy, ain’t it?” A voice brought Jonas out of his daydream. An older man who lived in the building had come to stand beside him and was looking at what remained of Juan’s. “A damn cigarette did all this.”

  “Crazy, indeed,” Jonas agreed.

  “What do you think they’ll build in its place?” the man asked.

  Jonas smiled. “Something that isn’t tainted.”

  Jonas pushed thoughts of murder from his mind and continued to the trap house. With the way things were going with Jo-Jo’s condition, he had to get the ball rolling sooner than later. Between his sister’s sickness and what he had talked about with Prince, Jonas had quite a lot on his mind, namely, stepping his game up.

  Jonas had to admit that he hadn’t anticipated it taking so long for him to blow up when he first started hustling. He saw guys like Drew, and some of the other big-time dealers, in their fancy cars and expen
sive jewelry, and he wanted that. He’d always thought getting would be as simple as putting drugs on the street and watching the money roll in. He had been wrong. He was making enough money to keep himself and his family above the poverty line, but they were still in the hood. If he wanted to ensure that the people he loved were taken care of long after he was gone, then he would have to rise above the street shit he was doing and start making power moves. This is why it was so important for him to get Stacey on board. She would be the key to everything.

  Ace and Mula thought Jonas kept Stacey around just to crunch numbers, which was partially true, but they had no idea that she was a pivotal piece to his endgame. No matter how much cash Jonas scraped together, there wouldn’t be much he could do with it on his own. He wasn’t old enough to even buy alcohol, had never owned anything that he didn’t pay for in cash, and didn’t even have a high school diploma. He was a walking question mark that no sensible establishment would do legitimate business with, but Stacey was clean. She didn’t have a criminal history, and her credit score was good. Aside from a few bullshit parking tickets, Stacey was an otherwise law-abiding citizen. With those credentials, she could walk into any bank and get a loan or get some property in her name without so much as a second look. She would make the perfect front.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  When Jonas arrived at Paula’s apartment, he was pleased to find it not teeming with a bunch of people who didn’t belong there. What he had walked in on the last time he checked in had really bothered him, so much to the point where he had started putting out feelers to find a new traphouse. They had been pumping out of Paula’s crib for a long time and hadn’t had any problems, but that was before Ace adapted an open-door policy. Too many eyes had seen what they should not have, and Jonas had a bad feeling about it. He could very well be paranoid and overreacting to the whole situation, but he would rather be safe than sorry.