The Last Kings 2

by C. N. Phillips

  “Move! Move!” one of the thieves shouted to a young woman who had just stepped out of her car, clutching a bag of groceries.

  The warning came too late. She was clipped by multiple bullets in the center of her chest and blasted off of her feet. There was no time to be sad at the innocent life lost, because the assailants running after them weren’t letting up. The thieves were forced to make a quick right turn into somebody’s open gate and run through their neatly trimmed yard. The two lucked up, because the backyard of the house led to the alley where they had parked their getaway vehicle. The first thief dropped the duffle bag they were holding to the ground while still running full speed in front of the second. They jumped the fence effortlessly and waited for their partner to throw both duffle bags over before they too followed suit. They continued their pace toward where the 2010 all black Chevy Tahoe was parked in the shadows.

  “They’re getting close!” the first thief said, jumping and sliding over the hood of the truck.

  “Hurry up and start the truck then!” the second thief yelled, yanking open the passenger door and jumping in before slamming the door back.

  Looking to the right, they saw the young thugs toting their automatic weapons and jumping the fence that led to the alley.

  “Go! Go!” the second thief said and ducked their head just in time because the thugs wasted no time in unloading their bullets into the vehicle.

  The windows on the right side of the truck were instantly shattered, and the second thief ducked and threw their arms over their head. Rapid fire was sounding as the thugs were unleashing all of their ammunition into the truck. With still hands, the thief in the driver’s seat turned the key and started the engine. Driving was slightly hard due to the fact that both of their heads were ducked, but the driver went based off of memory. Whipping the steering wheel all the way left, the driver hit a U-turn and mashed on the gas. They made a swift getaway before their opponents were able to get too close to the vehicle. They kept their heads ducked low until they were sure they were out of range of the guns shooting at them.

  “Hit that right,” the thief in the passenger’s seat guided the driver with expertise through North Omaha. “I parked off of Twenty-fourth and Lake by where the Blue Lion used to be, so take the back streets.”

  “Why would you park so far from the hit?”

  “So if they followed us it would give us more time to lose them. Just shut up and drive, dude, you always have something to say.”

  The tension in the car wasn’t uncommon after a job that led to a near death experience for the pair. After they were absolutely positive that they were not followed they began their route to where the second car was parked. It didn’t take too long to reach a neighborhood not too far from the vehicle. They parked the shot up truck in front of an abandoned house and wiped down the inside of it before grabbing the two duffle bags. It wasn’t the first time the two had ditched a car, so they both knew the drill, nothing was left behind. Shielded by the night sky, they ran the two blocks to the gold 2002 Chevy Impala they had stolen earlier that day.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost ten,” the second thief said, finally removing the face mask. Starting the car, they pulled off from the curb. “Take your mask and hoodie off so we can dump them on the way home.”

  “Sometimes I swear you’re the big sister and not me, Rhonnie.”

  Rhonnie smirked at her big sister as she drove up Lake Street.

  “You know, I’ve always been the more responsible one. Two years means nothing, Ahli.”

  “Whatever. Just get us home. Turn on some Eric Bellinger. His voice always calms me down after a night like this.”

  Rhonnie did as she was told and turned on her sister’s favorite artist. Although she wanted to discuss the contents of the bags they had in the backseat, she knew it wasn’t the time or the place. She knew that their father had sent them on the mission for a reason, but usually they robbed people of cash. Not—

  “Stop thinking so much,” Ahli interrupted Rhonnie’s thoughts with her head back and her eyes closed. She already knew what was going on through her sister’s nosey head. “We’ll ask him when we get home.”

  As always, Ahli was in her head, but Rhonnie couldn’t do anything but sigh and continue driving. She was trying to get back out west as fast as she could because she knew their current area would soon be swarming with cops and that was the last thing that they needed. They rode, listening to the soft croons coming from the speakers for the next thirty minutes until they finally reached their destination. Hitting the garage door remote on the Impala’s visor, Rhonnie pulled the car into the garage of the vast, five-bedroom brick house. She planned to dump the car early the next day, however, at that moment, they needed to sit still for a while. The girls grabbed the bags from the back seat of the car and walked inside of the house, but not before shutting the garage door behind them.

  “Dad!” Rhonnie yelled out not able to contain herself. She didn’t care if he was sleep or not. “Dad!”

  “Chill, NaNa,” Ahli said, shooting her little sister a look as they made their way into the living room of their home.

  “Fuck that,” Rhonnie said, using a word she rarely pulled from her vocabulary.

  She plopped down on the black leather couch and pulled her black hoodie over her head, revealing a white tank top under. She kicked the black Timberlands off of her feet and crossed her arms. Her eyes were focused on the spiral staircase by the foyer of the house, and they stayed there until she saw the familiar Ralph Lauren house slippers making their way down the steps.

  When Quinton Malone entered the living room he had a smile on his face as soon as he saw both of the duffle bags on the black marble coffee table.

  “Good work,” he told them, but his smile soon faded when his eyes met his younger daughter’s. “Why the long face, NaNa?”

  Rhonnie took a deep breath before she mustered up the courage to come at her father in any form of disagreement. She glanced at Ahli, who in turn just shrugged her shoulders.

  So much for back up, Rhonnie thought.

  “Daddy, why you got us stealing coke?” Rhonnie finally asked. “You had us getting shot at for cocaine! Since when did you become a drug dealer?”

  Quinton figured that the question was coming, so he was prepared for it. He sat down in the Lazy Boy diagonal from the couch that his daughters were sitting on. He observed them and saw the sweat still glistening on their foreheads and the tiredness in their eyes. He felt a small pang of guilt, but not enough to regret sending them to do the job. It wasn’t the first time that they had been shot at, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last, either. He stared his daughter in the eyes until she blinked before speaking.

  “I never said I was,” he spoke in a smooth voice, but his children knew him well enough to recognize the deadly undertone. “The contents in those bags are probably only worth fifty thousand dollars combined. I have a buyer who is willing to pay double that.”

  “Sounds a lot like drug dealing,” Rhonnie said, raising her eyebrow at her father. Although the last thing she wanted to do was disrespect him, she had to let him know that she didn’t agree with him. “If you would have told us what we were really jacking, I would have never gone.”

  “Exactly the reason I didn’t say anything. I need you both to trust me.”

  “Daddy, having that in the house is probably the dumbest thing we have ever done. I don’t want to be around it. Period. And you got me risking my life for it.”

  “This is an opportunity that I can’t pass up . . . can you?”

  “If I would have known I was going to be robbing a house full of people with automatic weapons, I definitely would have passed,” Rhonnie shot back, not letting up on her dad.

  Quinton sighed and rubbed his large hand down the neatly trimmed beard on his face. Whereas Ahli was more like their mother, Rhonnie was just like him. From her bullheaded mind frame to her stubborn attitude, she was definitely Q
uinton Jr. However, he knew she had a get-money mentality just like him, so that was what he honed in on at that moment.

  “So you’re going to let the job you just did go unpaid for? A’ight, go drop those bags off somewhere then, miss out on all of that money.”

  To that, Rhonnie had no comment. She had become accustomed to being able to drive any kind of car she wanted and being able to wear whatever designer she saw fit. Instead of responding to her father, she just looked at her feet.

  “When do they expect us to deliver?” Ahli finally chimed in. “Because Rhonnie is right, we need to get that stuff out of the house as soon as possible, Daddy. You know you just got off papers.”

  She stared into her father’s warm face and noticed that he must have gotten his brush cut lined up and his beard trimmed while they were out handling business earlier that day. He was looking debonair and sophisticated, even in his night clothes.

  “In two days,” Quinton told her clasping his hands together. “The drop happens at one o’clock on Friday. In Miami.”

  “Miami!” Rhonnie exclaimed. “That drive is like twenty-four hours!”

  “Twenty-three,” Quinton corrected her. “And that’s exactly why we need to rest up, because we are leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Ahli wanted the work gone, but she didn’t say that she wanted to move it that soon. The two girls would barely have enough time to recoup from the job they had just done before they would be on another one. She knew better than to argue with her father; she had more respect for him than that. Rhonnie, on the other hand, just couldn’t seem to contain her thoughts.

  “Tomorrow? How does Uncle Lance even know these people are good for their word?” Rhonnie asked skeptically.

  “Because your Uncle Lance has never steered me wrong. Ever,” Quinton winked at Rhonnie. “Now shut up and listen.”

  Both Rhonnie and Ahli got quiet knowing that their father was about to brief them on how things would go the next day. He explained to them that they would take two cars and leave thirty minutes apart. He told them that the drugs would be hidden in the car with them, just to stay on the safe side of things. Although he could legally leave the state, Quinton knew he had eyes on him. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over with two bags of bricks in his vehicle. He knew that what they were doing was risky, but he figured that the two of them would be all right as long as Ahli drove. He informed them that he had already booked them separate rooms at the Hilton. When they got there, they were to park in the back of the hotel and check in like normal, but leave the duffle bags of drugs in the car. Afterward they were to shower, get dressed and go back to the car and wait for him. From there they would go and make the drop.

  “Sounds easy enough,” Ahli said, nodding her head, seemingly pleased with the plan.

  “They always seem easy,” Rhonnie said, standing to her feet and stretching her arms wide. “But are they ever easy? No. I’m going to bed since we have to be back up in like six hours. Night, y’all.”

  She didn’t wait for them to say it back before she made her exit. Quinton sighed and shook his head.

  “I didn’t want this for you girls,” he said aloud and mostly to himself.

  “I know, Daddy.” Ahli shrugged her shoulders. “But it’s what we gotta do. Nobody knew mommy was going to die. I understand why you do what you have to do. And I don’t mind going in your place.”

  “Tell that to your sister.”

  “She’s young,” Ahli said. “She wants to enjoy her youth. Just give her a couple of days and she’ll be all right.”

  She stood up and planted a kiss on Quinton’s forehead before she, too, bounded up the stairs, leaving him lost in his thoughts.

  * * *

  “Sister, wake up,” a voice evaded Rhonnie’s dreams.

  She groaned and tried to roll over and bury her body deeper into her plush lavender covers. It literally felt like she had just closed her eyes and that sleep hadn’t even found her yet.

  “Fihh muh minutes,” she mumbled into her pillow.

  “No!” she heard a stern voice say, and then felt the covers being yanked off of her. “It’s already five thirty in the morning. Get up. I’m trying to get this shit done and over with.”

  “Ahli!” Rhonnie yelled as the gust of cold air hit her bare legs. Her eyes popped open, and sure enough, there was her big sister standing in front of her, wide awake. Ahli was fully dressed in a form fitting T-shirt and a pair of Levi skinny jeans that hugged her hips and made her thighs look extra thick. “I’m sleepy!”

  “Sleep in the car,” Ahli said and threw some clothes at her little sister.

  Thursday morning came faster than Rhonnie had anticipated, and getting out of her comfortable bed felt like torture. Rhonnie looked up at her sister again and took in her appearance. Her kinky, long curly hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, her mocha skin was clear and smooth, and her eyelashes were long and luscious as if she had put mascara on them. It was apparent that her sister had been up for a while.

  “Fuck,” she mumbled to herself and sat up. Her eyelids were still heavy, but she knew with Ahli hovering over her there was no going back to sleep. The smell of food cooking evaded her nostrils and her mouth instantly began to water. “Is Daddy up?”

  “Yea, he’s downstairs,” Ahli said. “He made breakfast for us and he said he has one more thing to tell us before we leave. I already packed your bag, so don’t worry about it. Fucking with you we wouldn’t leave until noon.”

  Rhonnie grinned sheepishly before she stood up from her bed and stumbled slightly. Using her knuckles, she wiped her eyes, trying to force herself to wake up.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs. Let me get in the shower.”

  “I’m giving you twenty minutes tops.” Ahli gave her little sister a knowing look. “If I have to come back up here and get you, it’s problems.”

  “Okay, mother.”

  When Ahli left the room Rhonnie grabbed the clothes that were thrown at her. A simple pair of jeans, a cotton Ralph Lauren T-shirt, a pair of boy-short panties with the tag still attached, and a pair of socks. Rhonnie smiled to herself. Although Ahli was only two years older, she had really stepped up to the motherly role when their mother died, years ago. Ahli was so busy being strong for everybody else that Rhonnie knew that it would be messed up to ever give her a hard time about anything. So most times she listened to her sister because most times she was right. Rhonnie couldn’t count how many bullets should have entered her body on one hand anymore if it weren’t for her big sister looking out. She snatched up the clothing and made her way to the bathroom that was in her bedroom so that she could prepare for the day. She spent ten minutes in the shower, relishing in the feeling of the hot water smacking her body. Once she was done she dried off, applied her favorite lotion, and then attempted to do something with her long, thick hair. When all else failed, she ended up simply mimicking the pony tail that her sister was wearing, but swooping her edges more neatly than Ahli had. When she was done she studied herself in the mirror. She was a perfect mix of both of her parents. She had her mother’s doe-like chestnut brown eyes, sharp cheekbones, and smooth caramel skin. From her father, she got his grade of hair, full lips, and his smile.

  Knowing that she was about to go over the time limit that Ahli had given her, she hurried out of her room and down the stairs toward the kitchen. She heard her dad going over the events of the next day with Ahli once more, and when he saw her enter the kitchen he smiled her way and motioned for her to take a seat next to her sister. There was already a plate in front of the chair he motioned for her to go to. She noticed that their plates had already been dug into, but she didn’t care. She was just happy her food was still hot, since even if it was cold she was still going to eat. Her dad threw down in the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Daddy,” Rhonnie said, kissing him on his forehead and snagging a piece of his bacon before sitting down. She took in his outfit and saw that he was dressed comfortabl
y to travel. Even when he was dressed down in a Nike jogging suit outfit with all white Nike Roshes, he was fly. “When we leaving?”

  “Right after you eat,” He told her.

  “Okay,” she said and then turned to her sister. “Why were you up so early? I was tired as hell after last night.”

  “I know, Big Hungry,” Ahli said, reaching out and brushing a bacon crumb from her lip. “That’s why I took the initiative to get up and dump that Impala we were in last night.”

  Rhonnie grinned sheepishly at her sister before dousing her scrambled eggs with Louisiana hot sauce and taking a big bite.

  “Thanks, sister.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Quinton waited patiently for Rhonnie to finish her food before he placed the two slightly weighted black boxes from his lap and placed them on the wooden kitchen table. He saw his daughters’ eyes light up the way they always did when he bought them gifts, and he slid a box in front of each of them.

  “Go ahead, open them.”

  Ahli and Rhonnie wasted no time snatching the tops off of their boxes. When they saw the contents of the boxes, they didn’t know whether to be excited or skeptical. Rhonnie took hers out and eyed the black Ruger LC9s in her hand. Ahli did the same with her Ruger SR45, and the both looked up at their father after a few moments.

  “It was time that you got new ones,” was all he said before he stood up and grabbed their empty plates. “Since y’all always want to wear those tight ass jeans, those are compact enough to fit in your purses.”

  Ahli nodded and stood up too, glancing at the clock on the wall.

  “Come on NaNa,” she motioned to her sister. “It’s time to get this show on the road.”