by T. Styles
“What is wrong with you people?” She yelled. “Don’t you understand the word no?”
Bet pushed her way inside and sat on the sofa, crossing her legs. Nodding her head toward Claire’s coffee cup she asked, “You gonna offer me some?”
Claire closed the door, placed the cup on the table and sat down. “What do you want?”
“Did you get my flowers?”
“What flowers?”
“The ones I sent for your anniversary earlier this year, and every year before that. The only reason I’m asking is because I never got a thank you card.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, I never understood why you sent flowers. Unlike my husband, I wanted nothing to do with you. I want nothing to do with you now.”
“Because marriage is a powerful unity, when you’ve found the right person.” Bet smiled. “I know what that means because I feel that way for Banks.” When Bet’s phone rang she looked down at it and sighed when she saw an unrecognizable number.
But she knew who it was.
Using one of his other cells, since he destroyed his main one in the basement, Banks attempted to reach his wife. There was a reason.
He didn’t want her anywhere near Vanguard’s home.
But against Banks’ wishes, she decided to meet with Claire anyway, believing she would deal with the consequences later.
Claire sighed. “I’m not giving you my plane.” She paused. “From what I hear Banks isn’t skilled enough to fly it anyway.”
“My husband has twenty years of aviation experience. And the credentials to back it up,” Bet paused. “He’s respected by the aviation board and can fly almost any aircraft. Now the basics are the same. He can fly that plane I promise you. He’s been with Vanguard in it many times.”
“I don’t care. You won’t get ours.”
“I will.”
She frowned. “What makes you think so?”
“Because you understand what it means to want your family safe. Especially sitting here in a space where you almost lost it all.”
“What are you? A sales person?”
Bet smiled. “I spent some time in real estate.” She admitted. “You are in a position to help my family, and I need you to do just that.”
“Never.” She laughed. “I will never help you or your family. Why would I, when you’ve taken everything from me?”
Bet smiled. “Maybe it was too insensitive for me to come today.” Bet stood up. “Here’s my number.” She handed her a card with her cell. “Call if you change your mind.” Before she walked out she said. “By the way, that nigger you speak of had a white mother. Just wanted you to know.”
Ten minutes later, Bet was back in her car. When her phone rang again she smiled. Her plan worked, but she knew it would.
“Is it true?” Claire asked. “About his mother?”
Silence.
Claire cleared her throat. “What are you planning to do to me?”
“Excuse me?”
“I think you’re threatening me. And my sons. In a passive aggressive way.”
“I never said a harsh word.”
Claire sighed. “I’m going to give you the location of the plane.” She paused. “After that, I want you and your family out of my life.”
“Thank you.”
After recording the address for the plane in the note app on her phone, she grinned. With one of her troubles over, in that now they could fly to the island, she was slightly relieved. There was still the matter of Minnie but she was certain that Banks would find her, if she would just trust him.
There was one more pressing concern.
She had to visit her parents. That was actually where she told him she was going. And had he known she was going to Claire’s instead, he would’ve never agreed to let her out the house.
But Bet adored her parents. In her eyes, they were the epitome of what love should be. Even now, after many years, Bet saw only what she wanted, ignoring everything else.
Even Banks was clueless on who his parents-in-law were.
He should have dug deeper; because Bet’s past would be the key to the darkness coming his way in the near future.
After knocking on the door, when it opened, Bet smiled at her mother who had a blackened eye. To others the bruise would seem majorly out of place but Bet was used to this sort of thing.
And so it didn’t bother her at all.
Happy to see her parents, possibly for the last time, Bet hugged her mother and walked inside, locking the door behind herself. “Hey, mama.”
“Sweetheart, what happened?” Gerry said. “I’m so confused. There were so many men here and—
“I know, mama.” She paused holding her hands. “I was—”
“Bethany!” Before Bet could finish, her father, George, rushed into the room. “Honey, what is going on? It’s almost seven o’clock in the morning. And why did Banks send those men over here?”
“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” Bet said grabbing his hands, looking up into his eyes. “But I have to tell you both something.” They sat on the sofa. “And I don’t have a lot of time.”
“What is it?” George asked.
“I’m moving.”
“Moving?” Gerry said. “But…where…and why?”
“I can’t explain a lot right now. Besides, I don’t want you in any danger.” She paused. “Just know that I have to follow my husband.”
“Yes, honey,” Gerry said nodding profusely. “Follow your husband wherever you need to go. Even if it means your life.”
George frowned. “You saying that now?” He said to Gerry. “But when I asked you to cook lunch yesterday, you said you were tired.”
“Mama,” Bet yelled. “You never supposed to do that! Is that why you two were fighting?”
Gerry looked down in shame.
“After all this time she still doesn’t realize what a good man I am,” George said glaring at Gerry, wondering if he should hit her again. “I’m starting to think she likes me putting my hands on her.”
Bet touched George’s hand. “Don’t worry, daddy. Eventually mama will understand.”
Poor Bet.
After living under a shroud of dysfunction all of her life, she saw only what she wanted. Not because she wasn’t concerned for her mother’s well being. But by refusing to see her father for who he really was, a monster who did many violent things that would impact Bet immediately if she remembered, she could stay in her fake world.
“So what now?” George asked Bet.
“When I get to where I’m going, I’ll reach out,” she promised. “I just want you both to know that me and the kids will be safe.”
After spending a little more time with them, she hugged them both and climbed into her car. Banks was blowing up her phone so she had to get home quickly, or she would put her marriage in further turmoil.
She was still thinking about her parents when—
WHACK!
Suddenly Bet’s car was rocked from the passenger’s side by a van and spun out in the middle of the street like a top. Before she could figure out what was happening, her car had crashed into a parked mobile trailer.
In excruciating pain, she was yanked from her vehicle and thrown into a van before it peeled out from the scene.
****
7:17 AM
Feeling like they were coming down with a cold, Spacey and Joey were in the kitchen making hot toddies. Since Bet was gone, and Banks went to dig up some more cash, in the hopes of buying a new plane from somewhere, they felt they could sip the drink and catch a quick nap afterwards.
Banks had no idea Bet had already secured the aircraft.
As they sipped their hot toddies, the house phone rang. Spacey’s eyes widened when he looked at the caller ID. “What the fuck?”
“Who is it?” Joey asked.
“It’s Unc. I think.”
“Don’t answer.”
“What if this about Minnie?” Spacey said. “I got too.” Spac
ey hit the button. “Hello.”
“Son, where, where is your father?” Bet wept on the other end.
Upon hearing his mother’s voice, Spacey flopped into a chair. He was so scared it was all he could do to hold his bladder.
“What, man?” Joey asked, his heart rocking in his chest while seeing his brother’s face.
“It’s ma…I think Unc got her.” He whispered, covering the mouthpiece.
Seconds later, Mason appeared on the phone. “If you want your mother alive, meet me at Banks’ recreation center in Baltimore.”
“When?” Spacey asked.
“Now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
8:14 AM
Lying on Shay’s bed, Harris looked up at her pretty face. She had just finished riding his dick and he was already wrecked with guilt.
Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
“Why you looking all mad?” She asked, touching his face with her long red designer nails. “I ain’t do it right this time either? Because I thought you came when I made my tongue—”
“I hate that they didn’t tell us that we were…that we are…”
She was already over the news because her mind was made up. “Then let’s charge that to them,” Shay continued, lying on top of his chest. “Why should we take on they shit?” She shrugged. “I mean, we already in love and I’m not giving up my nigga.”
“Where your pops and mom?” He paused. “You know we leaving soon right? Maybe tonight.”
She got off of him, grabbed the sheets and covered her body. “I don’t know where they are. They not answering my calls.” She paused. “How come I feel like something wrong?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong.”
“How you know though?” She hoped he’d say the right thing to put her at ease.
“I don’t.”
“That’s honest,” she nodded, as she tried to push the bad thought out of her mind. “You heard from Minnie?”
“No, but I’m gonna grab my phone and see if she left a message. I’m the only one she’ll call. I just gotta sneak it away from Pops but I don’t know where he put our cells when he took ‘em. The only reason he connected the house phone was because we all talked in the basement earlier and he wanted to reach us while he was out.”
“The floorboard in his office,” she said matter of factly. “Check for the cells there.”
He frowned. “How you know?”
“I saw him putting something there before so I think it’s his favorite hiding space,” she paused. “When I knocked on the door looking for daddy one day. You and me had just finished having sex and I was trying to feel him out, to see if he saw us. He didn’t. Was too worried about Banks than what we were doing. As usual.”
He kissed her cheek, got dressed and snuck toward his father’s office.
After the Wales family had a heart to heart earlier, Banks instructed the soldiers to hang outside the mansion instead of inside, to give his family some privacy. Per their request. As a result, none of his men were in the hallways. This meant Harris could move around without their watchful eyes.
Once in Banks’ office, after looking around for a while, he eventually found an odd floorboard. He attempted to open it but it didn’t budge. He scanned his father’s desk and saw an out of place remote. When he hit a button on it the floorboard unlocked. Lifting it up, he saw a bunch of phones, including his, along with some composition books.
“Yes!” He said to himself.
Grabbing his cell, he went past a few voice messages from his friends before stopping on the one Minnie left before she bounced the second time.
“Harris, I know you won’t understand what I did to Daddy but he deserved it, when he broke me and Arlyndo up. And for how he knew them crazy bitches kidnapped me and he still let them. He even hurt Natty! Anyway, I just want you to tell the family I’m sorry. But I…” She sniffled. “I wrote a letter to the FBI, to tell them about the drugs daddy be moving. When they get that letter they’ll probably lock him up and send him to a women’s prison. He deserves it though. Please forgive me. Bye.”
Hearing his little sister was part snitch caused his blood pressure to rise.
What could he do?
He paced Banks’ office. Sure they were leaving the country, but if the government learned Banks was a dealer, he was certain they would trace the flight path and tear them up again. He tried to call the number she hit him from, but it went to Hutch’s voicemail.
All he knew was this…he had to get that letter.
After going through the closet, he found a wire hanger and extended it. He figured if she mailed the letter earlier, she probably put it in the mailbox some blocks away from the house.
Maybe he could grab it before the mailman picked it up.
So with the stretched hanger in hand, he moved toward the door where he saw one soldier pacing.
Confused Harris approached him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Your brothers left the property,” he said hysterically. “And the others went after him.” He was so worried he looked like he was about to faint. “I been trying to reach Banks but he won’t answer.”
Harris scratched his head and remembered Banks broken cell on the floor in the basement. “You won’t be able to get him on that one,” he paused. “He using another one. I can’t remember that number though.”
“Fuck!”
“Listen, go to my moms office and look on her desk. I think she got most of his other cell numbers on her planner. Call all of them until he picks up.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “But whatever you do, stay in the house.” He pointed at him. “I can’t risk losing somebody else.”
The man took off running while Harris ran outside, ignoring everything he said. He had work to do.
Almost half way from the mansion, he located the nearest mailbox. Banks liked the box being that far, so that not even a government official would have a reason to come on his property.
****
8:48 AM
Linden and Tops were sitting in the car yawning and trying to stay up, when they saw Harris walking up the block. Tops was also scrolling through the Gram on his cell.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Linden said to himself before looking at Tops. “Ain’t that’s Banks’ son?”
Tops put his cell down. “I guess so. He do look like one of them little red niggas from the dinner shoot out that night.”
Curious, they watched him move toward the large blue mailbox, pull open the flap and dig inside with the hanger while shining the flashlight at the same time.
“Fuck he doing?” Tops asked wiping his hand down his scraggly, disconnected beard.
“I don’t know, but let’s go find out.”
When both of them exited the car, they approached Harris from behind, who was still digging into the box with full force.
Sure the plan was stupid. U.S. mailboxes were mostly secure. But the way he saw it was simple. If you didn’t live near the property, which nobody else did, there would be no reason to use that mailbox. So he figured Minnie’s letter was the only one inside.
If only he could get it.
Right before Linden and Tops were about to snatch the young king, and tuck him in their trunk, a police cruiser pulled up and an officer approached them from behind.
“What are you doing?” The cop asked, as he stepped to the trio who did not see him until he made his presence known.
Harris closed the mailbox and dropped the flashlight and hanger. “Uh…I was…”
“Tampering with federal property,” the officer said. Removing his handcuffs from his hip, he slapped them on Harris’ wrists. “What’s your name boy?”
Silence.
“What’s your name?”
“Harris Kirk Wales.” He said proudly.
“Oh really?”
When Linden and Tops tried to walk away, Harris yelled, “Officer, they were helping me break in the box too! They my friends!”
Shocked,
Tops and Linden would’ve taken off running but another officer pulled up on the scene and blocked their car.
“This nigga lying!” Tops yelled.
“Tell that to the judge,” an officer replied.
In the end they were all placed under arrest for obstruction of correspondence, which held a $250,000 fine and up to five years in prison.
Tops and Linden were heated to be arrested for something so juvenile.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting in the back of a wagon. Sure Harris could’ve taken the heat on his own, but he recognized Tops’ face from the window the night of the shoot out that destroyed his family’s lives.
And linden resembled Mason, so he wanted him gone too.
As many Louisville’s Harris could get away from his family the better.
He grinned, all the way to jail.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Banks collected cash from a few secret spots and was headed home when he got a call from one of his frantic soldiers. After Banks listened to the most important detail, that his sons and wife were gone, he felt weak.
It didn’t help matters that the soldier was clueless as to where they went. His men were dropping the ball.
All the soldier knew was that Spacey and Joey had been lured from the house. And that they said they were going to help Bet. Who apparently was taken by Mason.
Pulling over, Banks took several deep breaths. He needed a clear mind. “Calm down and listen to what I’m asking. Did they say where they were headed?”
“Uh, uh, I mean…I can’t remember.”
“THINK HARDER, NIGGA!”
“Oh yeah…something about a rec.”
He knew where they were.
Banks hung up, turned his car around and headed toward the airport where his plane once sat. With his aircraft destroyed, Banks figured he could steal something else.
But the red head was there, at 9:13 in the morning.
He walked up to her and she was still shaken. Makeup had run down her face and she trembled as she placed items into a box.
“Why you here so early on a Sunday?” He asked.
“I thought it would be safe to grab a few of my things. And Banks, I’m so sorry about your plane.” She cried. “I didn’t know who they were. And there were so many of them.”