Criminal Minded

by Tracy Brown

  Lamin was still fuming, glaring at Donovan. “You punk muthafucka!” Lamin was livid as he snarled at Donovan and backhanded him across the face. Every time Lamin looked at my bloody, swollen face he seemed to become even more enraged. “I should let Olivia shoot you herself!”

  To everyone’s surprise, Donovan sat against the wall laughing in a low, sinister tone. “Do it,” he said, staring at me with a crazy smirk on his face. “Fuckin’ high-priced ho.” He laughed that cryptic laugh, and I felt my trigger finger twitch. He kept laughing. “Go ahead and shoot me, you stupid bitch. Go ahead. Then you can suck Zion’s dick as much as you want to.”

  As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, Zion blasted that nigga in the head. After the fatal shot, Donovan’s body slumped over; the room fell eerily silent, and I trembled in shock. Lamin calmly walked to the kitchen, grabbed a dish towel, and used it to take the gun from Zion as I stood staring at Donovan’s dead body.

  “Get her outta here, Lamin,” Zion said. “I’ll get rid of everything. Just take Olivia and get outta here.”

  “What are you gonna do, Zion?” I was crying hysterically, thinking about one of us—or all of us—going to jail for murder. “Now what are you gonna do?” I wondered if the neighbors had heard the shot or if they would call the cops.

  Lamin went into the bathroom with the gun and I stood frozen with trembling hands. Zion walked toward me slowly and hugged me close to him. “Don’t cry, Olivia. I’m gonna handle this, okay? Just go with Lamin and let me do what I gotta do.” Zion wiped my tears. Then he kissed me softly. “Don’t cry no more.” He looked at me with my swollen eyes and bloody lips and kissed me again. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

  Lamin came out of the bathroom, and Zion and I put some distance between us. I looked at my brother—my hero—and I was so sorry that I had put us all in the position we were suddenly in. Lamin hugged me close to him and told me it would be alright. But somehow, that was hard to believe with a dead body in the room, laying just feet from where I stood. I choked back sobs and Lamin held me closer.

  “Go get dressed, Olivia,” he said. “Go put some clothes on so I can take you to my house.”

  Obediently, I went into my bedroom and frantically tossed as much as I could into my suitcases. I knew that I would never want to set foot in that apartment again after that night. I heard Zion using my phone to call his goons. He didn’t give them any specifics over the phone, but I heard him instructing them to get there as soon as possible and to park by the building’s back entrance. In the midst of all the drama unfolding in my home, I couldn’t help but notice that neither Zion or Lamin seemed as if this was the first time a trigger had been pulled in their presence. I had always known that the two of them were no angels. Yet it surprised me to know that they were no strangers to murder.

  Lamin and Zion went about their business quietly, while I continued packing my shit as fast as I could. For once, I wished I didn’t have so many clothes. But I sure wasn’t leaving my good shit at the crime scene. I threw my Gucci snakeskin bag and shoes into my bag, grabbed my Dolce and Gabbana pantsuit, my Dior sling backs, and threw my Valentino dress into the garment bag. After about twenty minutes, I came out of my bedroom, anxious to get out of there as quickly as possible. Zion had wrapped Donovan’s body in a blanket, and Lamin was helping him roll it up inside of my Persian rug. I saw blood splattered on the wall where Donovan’s head had leaned when he was shot. I felt nauseous. Sensing that, Lamin rose, grabbed my hand, and led me to the door. I turned back as we left, and my eyes locked with Zion’s. He was very calm and so in control. My pulse quickened as he stared at me and I wanted so badly to tell him that I loved him. But instead I walked away holding my brother’s hand like the scared little girl that I was.

  Lamin

  While I was in the bathroom unloading and preparing to dispose of the gun, I noticed a lengthy silence, and I peeked my head outside the door. I saw Zion hug my sister. At first, I thought it was nice of him to comfort her when she was obviously upset. But then I saw him whisper to her softly. I wondered what he said, and I was just about to walk back in. Then he kissed her. He kissed my sister, and I wondered what the fuck was on his mind! I waited for Olivia’s reaction. But she didn’t seem surprised. And then he kissed her again. I had enough at that point.

  I tucked the gun away and walked out of the bathroom. When I stepped back into the room, they both slid so far away from each other that I almost wanted to laugh. But I was furious. I felt deceived. Still, I knew that my sister was in shock. She looked like she was ready for a rubber room and a tight jacket. I hugged her, told her it would be alright. For the entire time that I held my sister, my eyes stared directly into Zion’s. I was silently telling him that I knew what the fuck was goin’ on. Zion held my gaze as if he didn’t care anymore if I knew or not. I quickly sent Olivia to get her stuff.

  The silence that followed was one that spoke volumes. Zion and I stood our ground, stared each other down. “You fuckin’ with my sister, Zion?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

  “I wouldn’t call it that, Lamin. I care for your sister.”

  The silence returned. Zion picked up the telephone and called his boys. He gave them the address, speaking carefully and telling them to hurry up. The longer he spoke on the phone, the more infuriated I became. He hung up after what seemed like eternity.

  “You sneaky muthafucka!” I said through clenched teeth. “How long you been fuckin’ my little sister, Zion?” I had to fight to keep my voice down. I didn’t want to upset Olivia any more than she already was.

  Zion took two steps toward me. Now we stood only inches apart and I was anxious to hit him. I thought he was my friend.

  “Lamin, I never planned to get involved with your sister. But I did. I apologize for lyin’ about it. But your sister is grown, La. She does what she wants to do.”

  “Don’t stand there and act like you ain’t plan this shit! You probably took advantage of her the whole time she was travelin’ witchu. Stayin’ out of town for almost a week at a time! You think I ain’t wonder …” We were whispering, but our language was heated.

  “It’s none of your business, Lamin!” Zion frowned. “She’s grown up now!”

  “She’s still my sister, Zion! And I told you not to fuck with her.”

  “I couldn’t help it!”

  Zion almost got cracked in the mouth for that one. I stepped closer to him.

  “Lamin, listen. I am not tryin’ to hurt your sister. I really care about Olivia.” He hesitated. “The only reason I never told her how much is because of you. I would have been with her a long time ago, but I knew you would act like this.”

  This was some bullshit. It seemed like Zion might really like Olivia. I knew she liked him even more, and I didn’t like it one bit. I wanted more for Olivia than a guy like Zion. I didn’t want her with a street clown. I wanted stability for Olivia. Picket fences and carpools. I wanted her to be the opposite of my mother. Zion was not part of my plan. But now, he had killed a man for her. I saw just how serious this was. Zion didn’t give me time to think for long.

  “Lamin, we gotta clean this shit up. Help me roll this muthafuckin’ body up so when these niggas get here we can move it.” Zion rummaged through Olivia’s linen closet and pulled out a blanket. I helped him wrap the body in it and then I stood to look for something bigger to roll the corpse up in. I spotted Olivia’s large rug and I got ready to go and get it. But Zion reached over and stopped me, grabbing my arm as I prepared to walk away. “La, I never meant no disrespect. And I would never hurt your sister. Don’t blow this shit out of proportion.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I set about helping him clean up his mess. When Olivia came out of her room, she looked like she wanted to throw up. I didn’t want Zion to have to clean that up, too, so I grabbed her and got her out of there as fast as I could.

  But I couldn’t help wondering if I was more anxious to rescue her from the bloody murder scene, or
from Zion.

  Lucky

  Lamin came home with blood on his clothes. He had Olivia with him and she was an emotional wreck. They both took showers in the two bathrooms in our home, while I sat on the couch wondering what had gone wrong. Olivia came out of the shower first and sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, rocking back and forth. I kept my distance since she was obviously traumatized and I waited for Lamin to emerge. When he did, he pulled me into our bedroom and explained what had happened.

  “Donovan’s dead.”

  My heart hit the floor. “Dead? What happened, Lamin? Why is Olivia beat up like that? Did he hit her?”

  Lamin nodded. I recalled his words earlier as he left to go to Olivia’s house. “I’ll kill that nigga if he lays a hand on her.”

  No further explanation was necessary. I touched his hand gently and looked at his strong, handsome face. Lamin was my warrior. I loved him, despite the fact that our lives were spiraling into madness. I came into our relationship hoping Lamin would get out of the street life. He did, and we prospered. My happily-ever-after was right within reach. And now this. But no matter what, I was riding for Lamin. The secrets we kept would go with me to my grave. I had gone through hell with this man. He kissed me, hugged me close to him, and inhaled my scent. “I love you, Lucky.” Lamin said it as he looked in my eyes. His gaze seemed to probe me, looking for something that I couldn’t figure out. I wished at that moment that I could tell what he was searching for in my eyes. I wanted to show him whatever it was that he was looking for. I was that devoted. Lamin put his bloody clothes in a plastic garbage bag to be disposed of, while I made Olivia comfortable in the guest room. I told her that I was there for her if she needed to talk and prepared to make my exit. She stopped me when I got to the door.

  “Lucky.” Her voice was low and soft. I turned to face her. “Thank you.”

  I blew her a kiss and gave her a reassuring smile as I headed out the door. I found Lamin sitting by the living room window gazing out at nothing in particular.

  “Baby, come lay down.” I wanted to hold him. I wanted to tell him that it was alright and that I had his back. But Lamin wouldn’t be laying down any time soon.

  “Go to sleep, Lucky. I’m gonna wait until Zion calls. I’ll come to bed as soon as I hear from him.”

  I walked up behind Lamin and put my arms around him. “You did what you had to do, Lamin. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Lamin smiled weakly. “I’m fine. Go to bed.”

  I kissed him and looked at his hands, still bloody despite the shower he’d taken. I walked to the kitchen, got a basin of water and an old dish cloth, and returned. I dipped the cloth in the water and scrubbed my baby’s hands. Little by little, the traces of blood disappeared. Lamin smiled at me, and I knew it would all work out.

  Then the phone rang. It was Zion.

  Zion

  I handled my business and called Lamin just as the sun was coming up. He answered the phone on the first ring.

  “La, that’s all a done deal, alright?”

  He hesitated. “I hope you’re sure about that.”

  “I’m sure. You don’t have to second-guess me, Lamin.”

  “Nigga, I gotta second-guess everything you say from now on!”

  “Why? Why, Lamin? What reason did I ever give you to doubt me?”

  “You’re fuckin’ my baby sister, Zion. That sounds like a reason to me.”

  “Lamin, you’re acting like a little kid. I never shorted you. I never took advantage of Olivia. I always got her back safe. She was never hurt while she was with me. We came up in this shit together. You ain’t got no reason to doubt me. If me dealing with Olivia makes you this mad, nigga, I’ll leave her alone. But you can tell Olivia that I do have feelings for her. Tell her I hope she’s okay.”

  Lamin held the phone and said nothing for a while. Then to my surprise, Lamin spoke in a low tone and said, “You tell her yourself.”

  I thought I heard him wrong. “What did you say?”

  “I said ‘you tell her,’ nigga!” Lamin sounded like it was hard for him to say it, still. “I gotta let Olivia live her life. You tell her what you feel yourself. Let her make up her own mind. But if you hurt my sister, Zion …”

  “I’m not gonna do that.” I smiled, happy that Lamin was opening this door for me. “I’m not gonna do that at all.”

  Lamin hung up and I took a deep breath. I sat back and closed my eyes and thought about the day’s events. I thought about the blast from the gun when I fired. It wasn’t the first time I’d taken a life, but still it shook me. I’m human. I thought about Olivia, then. When I held her in my arms, I wanted to tell her how I felt about her. I came so close to just saying it—saying I love you. She was so vulnerable and so defenseless, and I had never seen her like that before. I liked seeing her without her tough exterior. I wanted to be with her. I realized that for the first time as I wiped her tears. It dawned on me that I had never told any woman ‘I love you.’ I sipped my Heineken and decided that when the time was right, I would say those words to Olivia.

  In the days that followed, neither me or Lamin brought up what happened that night. It was just another scenario that we would take to our graves. Our conversations were somewhat forced, though. So I began to fall back, and give Lamin time to adjust. I called Olivia a few times, but she wouldn’t let me come see her until all her swelling went down. I had to laugh at how vain she was, avoiding visitors until she was camera-ready again. So I patiently waited, knowing that when I finally got to talk to her face-to-face, I was gonna step up to the plate.

  SEVENTEEN

  twisted

  Lamin

  To get her mind off the drama with Donovan (and to get her away from Zion for a while), I sent Olivia with Aunt Inez on a two-week trip to Aruba. I figured Aunt Inez could use a break after enduring years of hard work and Curtis’ return to prison. We were all upset about that. Olivia really needed to relax worry-free. She needed time to think and escape all the drama. So, I paid all the expenses and sent them on their way. I hoped that by the time they got back they would each have a clear mind.

  On the day that I brought the two of them to the airport, I called Dream and asked her to meet me at one of our favorite restaurants. I got there about twenty minutes late, and Dream was already seated at the table. She looked upset, and I started explaining my lateness as soon as I sat down.

  “I had to take my sister to the airport and I got caught in traffic.” I was explaining myself more and more, both to Lucky and to Dream. I had finally figured out that I was in over my head.

  Dream touched my hand across the table and rubbed it. “It’s alright, Lamin. Don’t worry about it. I ordered my lunch already. Do you want something?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not hungry. I just wanted to come and see you.”

  She moved her newspaper aside as the waitress brought her food and set it down on the table. I noticed the headline.

  BODY OF PHYA MANAGER WASHES ASHORE ON ROCKAWAY BEACH

  I stared at the article a little too long and Dream spoke up. “Did you hear about this? Somebody killed the group’s manager!”

  “Damn,” I said. “That’s fucked up.”

  She chewed her salad. “It’s sad what happened to him. Somebody shot and killed him and dumped his body in the water. The article said his car was never found and his wallet was missing, so it looks like a robbery gone wrong. They had to identify the body by his dental records since it was decomposed so badly.” Dream seemed genuinely upset. “He was a jackass, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  I shook my head pretending to be saddened by the story. Inside, I was relieved that the police suspected robbery was the motive. It had been weeks since the incident and I was growing paranoid. I would sleep a little easier now. Since that weight was lifted off my shoulders, I decided to tell her the real reason I wanted to meet with her.

  “I think we gotta slow things down a little, Dream.”

  She st
opped eating, put her fork in her plate and sat back in her seat. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Lucky’s asking a lot of questions and shit. My home life is getting stressful, and I can’t handle that kinda drama on top of everything else I have to deal with.” I leveled with her. “I’m startin’ to get so comfortable with you that I’m leavin’ clues around. Lucky found a credit card receipt from some flowers that I sent to you. I had to play it off like you were a client that I was trying to entice but it still caused me some friction. I just feel like I need to step back a little.”

  Dream looked upset but she kept her composure. She sat silent for a few minutes. Then she said, “I’m not happy to hear you say that, Lamin. But I understand. You’ve been honest with me about your relationship from day one, so I shouldn’t be surprised.” She hesitated. “It’s just that …”

  “What? Say it.” I wanted her to flip on me. It would have made me feel better if she wasn’t so mature about it. It would have been easier for me to walk away if she told me to kiss her ass. But Dream was too classy for that. I reached for her hand and stroked it as she spoke.

  “I told myself that I would be able to keep my feelings in check, knowing that you’re involved with someone. But I connected with you. No matter how hard I tried not to, I started to feel for you—”

  “I feel for you, too, Dream, but—”

  “Let me finish.” She took a deep breath and looked in my eyes. “I love you, Lamin.”

  I was at a complete loss for words.

  “I know that doesn’t change anything. But I just wanted to say it to you because I’ve been holding back for so long. I want you to be happy. So as much as I don’t like the fact that you need to do this, I do understand.”

  She took a sip of her wine and summoned the waitress for the check. Not knowing what to say or do, I reached for my wallet to pay the check. Dream stopped me and whipped out her platinum Visa, paying the bill herself. I felt like I needed to say something.