War 2 All Hell Breaks Loose

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War 2 All Hell Breaks Loose Page 6

by T. Styles


  “I hear all that, but if you putting me out I still want my money,” the Elderly Maid said. “I don’t plays when it comes to my—”

  “You know what,” Jersey jabbed a hand into her pocket, pulled out a wad of cash and slammed it against the woman’s cheek, before shoving her toward the steps. The other maids followed; scared they would be disrespected too. “See to it that they leave my fucking house, Pat.”

  “Okay, ma,” Patterson said following the crew upstairs.

  When they left, Jersey walked closer to Howard who was shocked at seeing his mother go off. Most of his life he knew her to be kind and demure but this was something different.

  “Now where is Derrick?” She asked.

  “I swear to God I don’t know, ma. I went to his room to see if he wanted something to eat and noticed he was gone.”

  “How he get out without us seeing him?”

  “I helped him,” Arlyndo said, walking downstairs with Patterson. He had a bandage on the hand that had been rolled over by a car moments earlier.

  They approached him. “What happened to your hand?”

  “I think it’s broke.” He paused. “I called the doctor who helped Derrick and he patched me up. Said I’ll need a cast though. A car rolled over it.”

  She sighed deeply, not really wanting to know the rest. Besides, she could no longer count the number of broken bones her sons had received over their lifetime. That’s why the wheelchair was already in their home. One of the sons stayed in it once or twice a year. “Arlyndo, what you mean you helped Derrick? Did you take him out the house?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Why?” Howard yelled.

  Arlyndo took a step back. “Because he…I mean…first he told me he was gonna help me get back with Minnie and I—”

  “Fuck that bitch!” Howard yelled shoving him backwards. “Everything we going through because of you and that slut! And you still out here sniffing behind her?”

  “I wasn’t trying to—”

  “What’s wrong with you, Arlyndo?” Jersey cried. “What is—”

  “Wait a minute, ma,” Patterson interrupted. “Exactly where is Derrick at again, Arlyndo?”

  Everyone stood around him with baited breath.

  Frustrated, Arlyndo flopped down on the sofa and they moved closer, standing over his guilt-ridden body. “At Banks’ house. I mean…I think.”

  “You took him to the Wales’?” Howard asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the nigga tried to get me to go and I said no! You should have too!”

  Jersey hit the floor and her sons quickly helped her to the couch where she cried harder.

  “Arlyndo, please say you lying,” Patterson said sitting next to him. “Please say you fucking around.”

  “I’m not,” he sniffled. “We were…he asked me to set up a meet with Banks…so that…I mean…I thought he was gonna help me get my girl back but then I found out he wanted a meeting.”

  “About what?” Patterson yelled.

  “Peace.” He wiped tears away. “He wanted to meet with him about peace.”

  “So why the fuck you here without Derrick then?” Howard yelled. “Tell me that!”

  “Because I didn’t feel right when we were in Stretch’s truck. Told him to come with me and everything.” He looked up at them. “But he wouldn’t listen.”

  “So you left your brother, who just took a bullet, alone with a nigga you know trying to kill dad?” Howard asked, nostrils flaring. “Causing mama to cry and shit?” He pointed at her as if folks didn’t hear her weeping.

  “He wouldn’t come.” Arlyndo whispered.

  “I’m ‘bout to tell dad!” Howard hit it for the steps until his mother stopped him.

  “NO!” Jersey yelled.

  Howard froze, turned around and looked at her. His fists clenched in knots.

  She sat up on the sofa. “Let me try something first.” Snot strings rolled over her lips.

  “Ma, dad gonna go berserk if he find out Banks got a hold of him.”

  “I know.” She paused. “That’s why I want you to give me some time. I got an idea.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  3:30 PM

  Bet steered her gold Mercedes Benz down the street as her husband laid into her for leaving the house without authorization. She was talking on her iPhone.

  “I know what you saying but you not my father, Banks!” She yelled. “I’m a grown woman who—”

  “Fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled. “Huh? Don’t you get what’s going on? I had to talk to you about something concerning Minnie. And when I come to your office, I find out you not even here!”

  “What was it you wanted to talk—”

  “Bet, come home now,” he said in a low voice.

  “I already told you I’m not coming back right now.” She paused. “And I know you gonna be mad and probably give me the silent treatment but I don’t—”

  CLICK.

  “Hello,” she said into the handset as she pulled up into a beautiful residential area in Upper Marlboro Maryland. “Banks?” When she looked at the iPhone she realized he hung up.

  Tossing the cell into the passenger seat, she cried harder than she had since the war began. For over twenty years Bet had given her life to Banks and it wasn’t always easy. Not only did she have to deal with the mood swings, courtesy of the hormone therapy he participated in, to look and feel male, but then there was also the truth of their relationship.

  Banks was a woman. And Bet was heterosexual.

  So in her mind there were many things wrong with their life.

  After learning that the man she was so attracted to was actually a female, she questioned not only her sexuality but also her sanity. How could she be with a woman who believed he was a man and still call herself straight?

  So after Banks revealed his secret in his kitchen many years ago, she left his mansion, believing she was done.

  But why couldn’t she get over him?

  And then she had a conversation with her mother that she’d never forget. She asked her if love can trump what she believes is right, and her mother said, “If when you go to sleep and wake up, and you can’t think about anybody but that person, then you follow him to hell if you want him.”

  So she did.

  Except over the years things changed.

  She never considered that he could be ruthless.

  She was wrong.

  And now that she saw his dark side, she reasoned it was too late.

  After crying her eyes out, she wiped them clean and took a deep breath. She’d deal with him later.

  Exiting her car she knocked on her parent’s door. Bet had gone there the night before but no one answered.

  She was shocked when the door opened and one of Banks soldiers appeared.

  Her eyebrows rose. “What are you…what are you doing in my parents house?”

  “You can’t come in,” he said pushing her back softly and closing the door as if she were a stranger.

  She stuck her Christian Louboutin in the doorway. “Fuck you mean I can’t come in? This is my—.”

  “Banks said to tell you to go home and get ready to pack,” he pointed over her head at her vehicle. “We’ll take care of your parents.”

  “Are you crazy?” She glared. “I’m coming in my—”

  “No you not,” he said firmly.

  “Excuse me!” She hit his arm with her Louis Vuitton purse.

  He wanted to drop her because that shit hurt but instead he opened the door wider and moved closer. “Bet, I’m not allowed to hurt you but I am allowed to restrain you.” He said seriously. “Now go home! Don’t make me apply pressure.”

  Defeated, slowly she backed away from the door, her eyes on him the entire time. Banks had not only proven to be a madman, but he was also sneaky. She never thought he would hijack her parents to control her. And yet he did.

  She also remembered telling him that her par
ents weren’t answering her calls on their patio last night. The whole time he kept a calm face when he knew the deal.

  Once inside her car, she quickly called him. “Banks…what are you doing to my parents?”

  “Come home.” He said calmly before hanging up.

  Morbidly afraid, she put her car in drive and sped off. A mile up, her phone rang again. Hoping it was Banks and he would provide more info, she answered quickly. “Banks!”

  “Bet, it’s me. Jersey.”

  She sighed. “What you want? Now’s a bad time.”

  “Banks has my son, Bet.” She cried. “Please don’t let him hurt him.”

  Banks has her son? Bet thought. Is that what he had to talk to me about?

  Bet pulled over and parked. “What are you talking about?”

  “He has Derrick.” She cried. “And I’m begging you to do something. You and me both know our kids shouldn’t get involved in any of this mess. It’s between Banks and Mason.”

  Bet knew Jersey was right.

  Children were off limits and she was once again stunned at the levels Banks reached to get his family on a plane. Now she was double thinking going to Wales Island because she couldn’t account for his next move.

  Still…he was her husband.

  “Let me tell you something,” Bet said softly. “If you ever call me again about my husband, I’ll put a bullet in that nigga’s head myself.” With that she hung up and drove quickly to her house.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The stuffy odor of cigar smoke floated in the air. Banks and Stretch sat inside one of Banks’ associate’s living room, trying to convince him of the ultimate.

  With over twenty years of flying experience, Banks had met many pilots in his lifetime, including, Vanguard Morton. The two men were as different from each other as Trump and Barack. Vanguard was white, wealthy and stuck in his ways.

  While Banks wasn’t afraid to take major risks, if the end result was worth it.

  “Where is your brother?” Banks asked sitting back into the sofa after smashing his cigar out. It sizzled. “I thought he would be here too.” He picked up his glass of whiskey.

  “Why?” Vanguard raked his grey and black hair back with his fingertips.

  “Just asking.”

  “He told me he’d catch up with you later,” he paused. “But now, after learning that…well…you’re leaving the country, I guess he won’t.”

  Banks sat the drink on the table and clasped his hands in front of him. “I know I’m springing a lot on you, but I don’t have a lot of time. I need that plane. And I would love you to fly it. I’ll pay you well.”

  Vanguard shifted in his seat. “So you are…a drug dealer?” Vanguard frowned.

  “You really wanna know?” Banks lowered his brow.

  Confused he had been consulting with a criminal for so many years; Vanguard rose, poured himself another drink and sat in the recliner across from Banks and Stretch. “I can’t fly you anywhere in my plane. I’m sorry.”

  “Then I’ll fly it myself.”

  “You’ve never piloted one as big as mine.”

  Banks sat back in the sofa and ran his hands down his face. “All I need is some time to learn the basic controls but the operation is the same. You know this.”

  “The answer is still no.”

  Banks’ jaw twitched as he tried to keep his cool. “Why?”

  Vanguard looked at Stretch and then Banks. How could he be so dumb? Now that he looked with a more discerning eye, it was obvious that they were dealers.

  They were too crisp.

  Like ironed one hundred dollar bills.

  “I can’t be in the company of drug dealers.” He paused. “I’m a pilot for a nationwide airliner. It just wouldn’t look right. I mean, I thought you were a restaurateur.”

  “I’m begging you, man,” Banks leaned forward. “If you don’t do this, I won’t be able to get my family to safety. I need that plane.”

  “I love you, Banks, you know I do. We’ve taken trips all around the world but what you’re asking…what you’re saying, destroys everything I stand by. I have children and I, I just can’t consort with drug dealers. I really am sorry.”

  Banks sighed deeply, grabbed the glass and finished his drink. “Okay.” He placed the glass down, stood up and extended a hand to shake Vanguard’s. “Tell your brother I said hello.”

  Vanguard rose and shook his hand. “I really am sorry, Banks.”

  Banks nodded as he and Stretch moved toward the door. Once inside the truck, Stretch and Banks sat in the back seat while Rev drove.

  “What now?” Stretch asked.

  “We fly out tomorrow.”

  Stretch scratched his head. Didn’t Banks hear the man say no? “But how?”

  “He’s gonna let me use that plane.” He paused. “Or he’s gonna die.” He shrugged. “His choice.”

  RING. RING. RING.

  Snaking his hand into his pocket, he grabbed his cell phone. When he saw a familiar number, he frowned.

  It was Mason.

  He answered.

  “What?” Banks asked with zero love in his heart.

  “I want my son.” He paused. “I know you got him. Jersey just told me.”

  Banks frowned. “Word?”

  “Don’t fuck with me.”

  Banks laughed.

  “Tell me this, where is your daughter?” Mason continued.

  Banks glared. “Just mentioning my daughter’s name is a game you don’t wanna play.”

  “You started this not me.” Mason paused. “Bring me Derrick and I’ll give you this bitch.”

  Banks got a fever when he heard him disrespect his youngest. But he knew he was trying to rattle him on purpose too.

  “I got something better,” he paused. “How ‘bout you suck my dick instead.”

  Mason laughed hysterically. “Now me and you both know that’ll be a problem.”

  “Why?” Banks glared. “Ain’t like you ain’t sucked one before.”

  Silence.

  In an effort to rattle Mason’s bones, Banks reached deep, to the time he caught Mason giving oral sex to his uncle as a kid.

  And the jab hurt too.

  “I’m gonna kill this bitch and—”

  Banks hung up.

  Stuffed the phone into his pocket and smiled.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The moment Bet entered the house; she rushed up to Banks, as he sat in his office. With wild angry fists, she slapped and punched him all over his chest and face as he accepted each blow. But hearing her screams, within seconds, two of his soldiers snatched her up and dropped her on the floor.

  As calm as a windless sea, Banks sat on the edge of his desk.

  “You can leave.” He told his men. When they left, he looked down at her. “You done or you finished?”

  “What did you do to my parents?” She screamed, standing up. “Huh? What did you do to them?”

  “Sit down, Bet.” He smiled.

  “I wanna know what you—”

  “SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” He yelled, pointing at the couch behind her.

  Slowly she sat down, for the moment fearing for her life. “What’s happening with my parents?”

  “You think I would hurt them?”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore, Banks!” She cried harder. “You don’t talk to me! You don’t tell me anything anymore.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Then I’m finding out from Spacey that Minnie’s gone. What’s happening to our family?”

  “Why you keep asking me that?” He said softly. “You act like you want me to say something different.”

  “But…but…”

  “First off, I’m protecting your parents from Mason. Trust me, they’ll be safe with my men.”

  “I thought you didn’t want them knowing you a dealer. And when did you send them to their house?”

  “The day that I invited Mason over for dinner.” He crossed his arms over h
is chest. “Cause I knew there was a possibility that things might change. I’ve known that nigga all my life. I know his moves before he does.”

  That was why she hadn’t been able to talk to her mom and dad. “But they aren’t involved in—”

  “You think them not being involved gonna stop Mason? I did it because—”

  “You’re trying to control me!” She cried. “You’re trying to control all of us.”

  He laughed.

  “What’s so fucking funny?”

  “You falling apart and I gotta tell you,” he walked around his desk and plopped into his chair. “…I’m kinda disappointed.” He clasped his hands in front of him, as if she were an insolent employee.

  “Where’s my daughter?”

  “Minnie doesn’t understand how good she has it here, so I’m making sure that changes.”

  She stood up and walked toward the front of the desk. “What does that mean?” Palms flat down.

  “It means I’m teaching her a lesson she won’t soon forget.” He smiled. “One that will force her to remember who I am.” He clasped his fingers in front of him.

  “Banks, please don’t do this. She’s just a child.”

  “She did it to herself when she disobeyed me by leaving. I mean think about it, Bet. Everything…all of this is because she wanted to be with that idiot.” He pointed at the door. “Now we forced to leave abruptly, instead of how I planned.”

  “What part of this is your fault, Banks?” She yelled. “Huh? Don’t you take responsibility for any of it?”

  He laughed. “Nah…” He ran his hand down his beard. “I gave her everything I never had as a kid and more.”

  “Banks…”

  “I get it, you mad. And although I don’t understand, I sympathize, but when we’re on that island, away from all of this, you’ll thank me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Excuse me?”

  She walked toward the side of his chair. “How do you know I won’t hate you instead?”

  “Impossible.”

  “I’m seriously starting to rethink going.”

  He laughed again. “You still don’t understand how this works do you? Bet, you don’t have a choice.”

  “Banks—”

 

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