Hard Betrayal (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series 2)

by Jason Stanley

  .

  Twenty-Eight: Free Air

  DEJA HELD HER MOMMA in a long bear hug while the two women quietly swayed from side to side. Finally, they stepped back, still holding, they looked at each other.

  “My sweet baby. I thank God you’re out,” Mrs. Washington said, and she hugged her daughter again.

  “I’m okay. Honest. I’m sure as hell glad to be out, though.” She hugged her mom a third time. “Thanks for not bringing Nessy. I didn’t want her to see me coming out of jail.

  Deja held her arms wide for both Michelle and Nikky, who stood a short step away and for several minutes, the three friends hugged, and danced, and whooped.

  “Stop! I’m out of breath,” Deja cried.

  “Don’t you do it!” Nikky said. “Don’t you start that crying stuff. I refuse to let you make us all cry just because we’re happy to see you.”

  “Oh, shut up and hug me. All of you. Momma, you too.” The four women all hugged again with plenty of tears to go around.

  When they pulled away, Mrs. Washington dug out a small pack of tissues from her purse. “Church supplies,” she said, passing around the pack.

  “Where is everybody parked?” Deja asked.

  “Not far; a few minutes’ walk. Shall we?” Mrs. Washington took Deja’s arm and led her away from the jail building, Michelle and Nikky falling in behind.

  “Baby,” Mrs. Washington went on as they walked toward the parking lot, “you asked about Nessy. She’s at school. I agree; she shouldn’t think anything about jail is okay. And your dad’s at work. He said he’d take off to be here, but I told him not to because I knew you wouldn’t want him to see you here like this. They both made me promise you’d come by the house later, though.”

  Deja nodded. “You bet. I’ll come by early enough to fix dinner for when you get off work. That good?”

  “Oh, you don’t need to, but yes, I’d love to come home to your cooking.”

  “Did everyone come in one car, Momma?”

  “No. I came in my car, but we’re not leaving in it. I can still make my shift if I leave from here, and I’m sure you and your friends will want to catch up.”

  “Yes, we do.” Deja said, then inhaled deeply. “Oh God! Smell that fresh, free air!”

  “Yes, you’re free, and this whole lousy mess is behind you because Jerome’s gone,” Mrs. Washington said. “I don’t know what happened and I’m sorry for his momma that the bastard’s dead, but I’m so glad this mess has all worked out.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry for his momma, too, but I’m not sorry for his ass. Everything that happened he had coming. The lying prick going along with the DA, saying I tried to kill him. He would’ve put me in prison for a long time. Thank God I’m rid of him, permanent.”

  “I was so scared you’d go to prison. You’d come out a different woman with tattoos and stuff.”

  “Momma, you know I already have a couple tattoos.”

  “Yes, you showed them to me, and they’re real pretty. But those aren’t the kind of tattoos I’m talking about and you know it.”

  “I know.” Deja grinned. “I’m only having fun fooling with you. It sure feels good to be out and in a mood to fool with you.”

  “And I’m happy to see you feeling so good you’re up to fooling around. Well” —she patted Deja’s hand— “I need to get going so’s not be late too work. I love you, my sweet baby. I’ll see you back at the house this evening.”

  “I love you, too, Momma. Your being here means a lot to me.” Deja walked her mother, arm in arm, back to her car.

  On the way, Mrs. Washington glanced back at Michelle and Nikky. “They’re some good friends, aren’t they?” she said to Deja.

  “Yes, Momma, they are.”

  Together the three friends watched Mrs. Washington drive out of the parking lot.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus. . . smell that fresh air!” was all Deja had time to say before Michelle and Nikky once again covered her with hugs.

  Teary-eyed, Deja held her friends’ hands. “You’re the best thing I’ve seen in a while. I don’t know what happened, but I’m so grateful for all you’ve done to make everything work out. How can I ever pay you back?”

  “There isn’t any payback when nothing’s owed,” Michelle said. “You borrow some money, you owe me. You wreck my car, you sure as hell owe me. Those things are something you owe. Your ass is thrown in jail, that’s different. We’ll do whatever it takes to get you out. There’s no debt for that.”

  “But when we tell you what all happened,” Nikky added, “you’ll be pissed you missed everything. You might even think we owe you a little something for having too much excitement.”

  “You guys are so wonderful,” Deja said. “You ever need anything, anywhere, anytime, it’s yours.”

  “Since you’re all jacked with no makeup and your hair’s totally cray cray, how about we roll by Omar’s? Standing next to you like this, I can look real fine,” Nikky teased.

  “Like that’ll work. No way! I’ll march my ass right back into that miserable, stench-filled shithole before I go parading anywhere like this. My hair and nails are totally screwed. First thing I did was chew them off in case I had to fight.”

  “Let me see them,” Nikky said.

  Deja held up her hands, showing nothing more but bare, short nails. “Some of them say they keep their nails long to scratch with. Not me. I need to make a strong fist so I can knock a bitch’s head back really good. We get to scratching, short nails can do all the damage you need. Out here, long, pretty nails will get you laid. Inside, they’ll get you laid out.”

  “Any problems that way?” Michelle asked.

  “You don’t see any scratches or bruises on me, do you?”

  “Nope, not a one.”

  “Whoop! There it is!” Deja gave a neck roll. “I sure as hell didn’t like being in that stink-hole, and I never want to go back. But I’m not afraid of it, either. That’s behind me. Now for what’s coming. You heard me promise Momma I’d stop by the house this evening. So, the whole rest of my day is free. Free like a bird!”

  “All right, what’s on your mind?” Michelle asked.

  “Three things. First, we get the hell away from this jailhouse parking lot and out of this blazing sun. You guys take me to eat. Someplace where no one I know can see me looking like some kind of busted-out jail momma. Somewhere with good food, where we can catch up on everything. Second, I’m eating dinner with my family. Third, I plan on getting down with some outstanding, all-night sex.”

  “We came in two cars,” Nikky said. “You know, Lil Taye.”

  Sobered, Deja asked. “How is she?”

  “No changes. Mom is with her now. I’ll head over to the hospital later.”

  “That settles it,” Michelle said. “Deja, you ride with Nikky, I’ll follow and take you home later.”

  * * *

  Nikky pointed at a Denny’s sign. “Denny’s okay?”

  “Ab-fab perfect,” Deja said. “Breakfast all day; what could be better?”

  “You sure gotta hand it to the people over at county,” Nikky said. “Their timing’s good; they got us here right between breakfast and lunch. Place is almost empty.”

  “Who said county employees were good for nothing?” Deja mugged, and everybody laughed. “Oh, and that, to be able to laugh, is so good.” She rubbed the back of the round booth, then patted the seat beside her and did a little drum roll on the table with her fingers. “Soft seats, a real wooden table, and that aroma.” Deja leaned her head back and, closing her eyes, deeply inhaled. “Mmm, mmm, mmm, not much comes close. You know that Denny’s ‘eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles, and fresh coffee, breakfast, everything’s good with the world’ smell? It smells like serious, honest-to-goodness delicious food and happiness. I can’t tell you how good just being here with you two is. Truth is, for a hot minute, I was scared shitless about doing prison time.”

  “We weren’t about to let that happen,” Michelle said. Before she could say
more, their breakfasts arrived.

  “OMG, that looks even better than it smelled.” Deja grinned. “Nikky, pass the syrup.”

  The conversation changed to small comments about pass this or that and how good things tasted.

  After a while the waitress walked up collecting empty plates. “Would you like refills on those drinks?”

  “Please,” Michelle replied, “three more would be good. You guys want some dessert or anything else?”

  “Pie. Do you have any apple pie?” Deja asked.

  “We sure do. Would you like it heated?”

  Grinning, Deja rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m in heaven. Yes, hot, and with vanilla ice cream on the side. Pie, ice cream, best friends in the whole world — what could be better? Nothing, that’s what. Give me a good man tonight and this miserable episode can kiss my ass goodbye. Whooee!”

  “Don’t hold back girl,” Michelle said. “Tell us how you really feel.”

  “Look around. That nice lady is bringing me pie and ice cream, and she’s happy about it. Not a single soul in here wants to kick my ass, or anybody else’s ass. When you walk into the dining hall in jail, you can taste the anger in the air. Going in to eat was like being jammed into a dark, dank, miserable cave with a hundred pissed off she-apes. It’s nothing like that here. This place is full of windows, sunlight, and feel-good vibes. I’m telling you, you don’t want me to let go — not in here. If I get to whooping about how I honestly feel, we could all wind up back inside.”

  “Well then, for goodness sake, hang tight, Nikky said. “On that other thing, about getting laid tonight: damn skippy. After being around all those women, you need to get your swerve on. Omar should know someone he can hook you up with.”

  “Girl, I made that call the minute I found out I was begin released.” Deja turned to Michelle. “You just drop me off at my place in time to get this nasty jail funk off of me. The rest is a done deal!”

  Michelle put up her fist. Deja bumped fists with Michelle and then Nikky.

  Looking around, Deja took a deep breath, then changed the subject. “Scooter told you Blondell and Dontrice backstabbed us by setting up Willie and Terrance to throw in with Jerome. But you don’t know where they are. Is that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s about it,” Michelle said. “We found out where Blondell’s sister lives, but they haven’t been there this past week. They’ve been working the streets for Sugar, so they’re basically broke and they know we’re after them, so they won’t go home. If they do, it’ll only be for a quick minute. But since they can’t stay at their place, sooner or later they’ll probably try hiding at Blondell’s sister’s. Either way, if they’re still in the hood, we’ll catch up with them soon enough.”

  “What about Sugar?” Deja asked. “You said, when she saw D’andre dead, she ran like the police set their dogs on her ass. Any idea where she is?”

  “No. Over the last few days I talked face to face with most of the girls in her crew, and none of them know anything. They might be lying, but I don’t think so. They’re all worried about their shit being in the wind with D’andre dead and Sugar gone. They’re street girls, so they have a lot of bravado, but they’re scared about working without backup.”

  “I think Blondell’s the one who might know,” Nikky chimed in. “She and Sugar go way back. When we find Blondell, we should be able to find Sugar.”

  Michelle and Deja nodded.

  The waitress returned with Deja’s pie and ice cream. “Can I bring you girls anything else?” she asked.

  “Just the check please,” Michelle said.

  On the way out, Deja hugged Nikky. “You sure it’s okay that I don’t come see Lil Tay this evening?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. There’s nothing to see. You go have a good time.”

  “Promise to call if anything changes?”

  “I promise.” Nikky said.

  .

  Twenty-Nine: Blondell and Dontrice

  MICHELLE ANSWERED HER CELL. “Sup Deja?”

  “Me and Nikky are on our way to those Aloha Palms Section Eight apartments where Blondell’s sister lives. Blondell and Dontrice are there, and we’re kicking those backstabbing bitches’ asses.”

  “Are you sure they’re there now?”

  “Pretty sure. Nikky’s friend from work called. She lives a few doors down. Said their skank asses came in a short while ago. She’s been out on the balcony with her kids the whole time and she hasn’t seen anyone leave, so they should still be inside.”

  “Where are you now? How long before you roll up?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  “I’m a little farther away. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  “Michelle, we’re not waiting. The ass whipping starts as soon as we get there.”

  Running three red lights, slow-rolling through two stop signs, plus doing sixty all the way, Michelle turned a thirty-minute drive into under fifteen. She screeched to a halt diagonally behind Deja’s car. One front wheel up on the sidewalk, the back of her car still stuck out in the street.

  Michelle sprinted down the walk between a couple of two-story stucco apartment buildings facing one another. She didn’t need to know the apartment number. The screaming and shouting marked the general location, and the neighbors bunched up across from the front door showed exactly where to go. If that didn’t work, people on the upstairs balcony excitedly pointing at the apartment certainly would.

  Michelle pulled her Glock. At the sight of the gun, people backed away making an opening. She stepped through the open door.

  Deja held a 9mm over a bony, dark-skinned woman sitting on the floor. The woman leaned against the wall, legs out flat in front of her. Blood ran from a cut over her eye. Dazed, eyes unfocused, her hair stuck out crazily on one side. Her skirt had bunched up around her waist, showing bright red thong-style panties.

  Nikky and Dontrice writhed on the floor, both throwing punches.

  Michelle put a hand on Deja’s wrist. She gently pushed Deja’s hand a little to the side, moving the gun enough so Deja would miss in case she accidentally pulled the trigger. With her other hand, Michelle fired one shot into the corner couch.

  BLAM!

  Like two cats with springs in their feet, Nikky and Dontrice jumped up and back, then froze. The hate boiling off Nikky was matched by the hate coming from Dontrice. With pit bull intensity, both women focused on each other.

  At the shot, Blondell bounced back against the wall. Her eyes popped wide, darting left, then right, and her hands jerked up like catching an imaginary ball. She looked down scanning her body then froze. Surprise at not being shot was written on everything about her.

  “Deja, keep that gun on this bitch,” Michelle said. “If she tries to get up, shoot her in the gut.”

  “Glad to.” Deja aimed at Blondell.

  Michelle waved her 9mm at Dontrice. “Move over against the wall. Stay on your feet.”

  She side-stepped to Nikky. “Nikky, yo! Nikky! You able to hold my gun without shooting her?”

  After a short pause, Nikky took in a deep breath, then blew it out. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Come over here and take this. I’m going out to calm things down. You’re sure you won’t kill her?”

  “I can wait. So long as this bitch doesn’t move, or even twitch.”

  Outside, Michelle didn’t need to yell because it became abruptly quiet when she stepped through the door. “I shot the couch. That’s all. But we aren’t finished here; some talking still needs to be done. What’s said is between those women and us; it’s nobody else’s business.”

  Michelle pointed at a large woman with orange hair. “Go check inside, and tell everyone out here what you see.”

  The woman tipped over, peeked through the doorway.

  “Well?”

  “Their asses been kicked, but nobody’s shot,” she told the crowd.

  “Who’s in there?” someone yelled.

  “Four women I don’t know. They don’t live here.�
�

  “Now, I’m going back inside to conduct a civilized conversation,” Michelle said. “The fighting is over. Anybody have a problem with that?”

  Several people shook their heads. No one said anything.

  “I don’t need the police here, and I suggest you don’t call them.”

  Again, heads shook. And a few people muttered, “Fuck the po-po. They cause more trouble than they ever fix. We don’t need them around here.”

  Michelle stepped back into the small, dimly lit living room where the pungent smell of sweat and gunpowder competed with old fried food and years of cigarette smoke. She kicked the door shut behind her, strode straight over to Dontrice, and slammed her fist into the woman’s face. The blow broke Dontrice’s nose and knocked her down.

  Dontrice screamed, her hands flew to her face.

  “Nikky, are you good?” Michelle asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “On your feet, bitch,” Michelle said to Dontrice.

  Dontrice, now in tears, didn’t move. Stepping to the side so Nikky had a clear shot, Michelle grabbed Dontrice by the hair. She yanked up hard enough to convince her to stand, then —bam!— Michelle slammed her fist into Dontrice’s face again. The woman slid to the floor once more, spitting out a tooth.

  Michelle squatted beside Dontrice. She pulled her hair back, forcing her to look up into Michelle’s eyes. With Dontrice’s full attention, she said, “Now you listen to me. I don’t roll like most women. I’ll beat you until I get what I need. If necessary, I’ll kill you in front of your friend. Then, I’ll do to her whatever it takes to make her talk.”

  Dontrice’s eyes darted around the room — fear replaced the hate.

  “Do you believe me, bitch?” Michelle demanded, still holding on to Dontrice’s hair and glaring into her eyes.

  “Yes,” Dontrice said.

  “I’m going to ask you about Sugar. I strongly suggest you think carefully about what you say. Tell the truth, you’ll live. Try lying, you’ll die today. Now, where’s Sugar?”