Heartless

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  As she cruises through the airport toward the exit she turns her phone on. Eight missed calls from Mr. Antonelli are at the top of the list. She listens to her messages and the sound of his voice irks her. In between messages she hears the voice of Money Sal. She listens closely to his words. She presses two to repeat the message and turns the speaker on.

  “You filthy, thief, ass bitch! You fucking stole from me? You got that off though. Don’t worry about it though, it’s all good. Don’t spend it all up because you will need it to pay for your funeral once I catch up with yo’ ass. It’s a small world, bitch. Should’ve never fucked with your lil, strange faced, ass anyway. You and that nasty ass reject pussy you got.”

  She deletes the message just to not listen to it again. Hearing that message has made her livid. The name calling hurts a little, but it’s the threats that bother her the most. He obviously has no clue that those threats can cost him his life.

  She honks the horn like a maniac. She peeks around the van in front of her to figure out why it’s stopped so far away from the light that is green. She notices a long string of still traffic in front of the van. “What the fuck,” she says while resting on the horn. “Move that fuck outta the way.”

  The traffic starts to creep along. Just as she’s about to speed up the traffic stops again. She slams on the brakes to avoid banging into the back of the van in front of her. She peeks around the van and what she sees causes her spirit to sink.

  Orange cones are lined up, diverting traffic into a single lane. Police stand at the yellow line. She recognizes the last thing she needs to be in the middle of at this time and that is a spot check. “Holy fuck,” she says as she thinks of the reasons why she needs no trouble with the law right now. “Shit,” she says remembering the gun in her glove compartment.

  She snatches the key out of the ignition and tries to open the glove box. She fumbles with the key in the hole nervously. Now the horns are blowing behind her, causing a scene. She’s sweating bullets.

  She grabs the gun from underneath the papers and quickly tries to figure out where she can hide it. She doesn’t want to leave it in the car just in case they are searching cars. She also doesn’t want to put it on her just in case they ask her to step out of the vehicle. The horn sounds off again, breaking her train of thought.

  She quickly starts the car back up and inches forward with the gun still in her hand. She considers tossing it out of the window but with so many people around she’s sure someone will see it. She has no choice but to tuck it in her pocket and pray that they don’t find reason to ask her to step out. With the gun so tiny it can barely be seen in her pocket but still she buttons her coat up for reinforcement.

  As she gets closer to the corner, she sees K9s on both sides. Her freedom flashes before her eyes. Her heart races as the Port Authority cop walks toward her car. As he reaches the car he signals for her to roll her window down.

  Thoughts of running him over and making a getaway flood her mind, but she realizes there’s no way she could get past all of them before they gun her down. With that in mind, she slowly reaches over and hits the power button. “License, registration, and insurance card,” the officer says sounding like a robot.

  She reaches over to the glove box and grabs hold of the paperwork. She hands it over to him with a false sense of confidence. He stands there holding the documents with no contentment. “License.”

  Her heart stops beating. “Oh, I didn’t give it to you?” she asks, trying to buy herself sometime. She wonders if just presenting the paperwork will be enough for him or if he will run a check on her. She’s sure once he runs the check she will be leaving here in handcuffs.

  It’s then that she remembers something that could possibly prolong her freedom. “Hold up, one-second please. I’m just getting off my flight and haven’t had time to get myself together. Can I look for it?”

  “Take your time,” he says but the lack of patience shows.

  She fumbles throughout the glovebox and the middle console. “Who is Donovan Antonelli?” he asks reading over the registration and insurance.

  “Uh, my boyfriend,” she replies. Even saying that feels weird to her.

  The officer looks at her peculiarly. “Your boyfriend is seventy-eight years old?”

  She ignores his question as she locates the small Bible in the console. She skips to the middle of it and finds what she hopes to be her lifesaver. She hands him the license and he reads the name aloud. “Danielle Bryant. Twenty-seven years old with a seventy-eight year old boyfriend?”

  “I,” she says as she almost gives herself away about to defend her age. She’s totally forgotten that the license states that she’s five years older than she really is. “Is that against the law?” she asks with an irked tone.

  “Uh, a few years ago, it would have been,” he says with sarcasm. “License in good standing? No tickets or suspensions?”

  “No,” she says with confidence. The expression on her face doesn’t support the confidence though.

  “Well, sit tight for a minute and let me go and take a look,” he says with a sarcastic smile.

  As he walks away she goes into a panic attack. She has no idea if that license is in good standing. She doesn’t even know if the license is even in the system. When it was created to get the car from the dealership years ago they never discussed if the license was legit with her face on it, everything else officially belonging to the girl or just a complete phony one. She has every mind to bust out of this door and run for her life but the cop comes walking toward her. She tries to read his face to see what the outcome is going to be but he shows no sign.

  He stops at the door. “So, Mr. Antonelli is your boyfriend you said right?”

  “Uh, yeah,” she replies while looking him in the eyes. She covers her fear well.

  “So, we can call him and he will say the same?”

  “Absolutely,” she replies with enormous confidence.

  The appearance of another officer coming their way causes her alarm. Just as he’s about to speak the officer steps away from the car to meet him. They stand there whispering. She can’t hear a word or even read their lips to see what they are saying. Her body goes numb from fear as they both make their way over toward her. They stand at the window just looking at her for what seems like an eternity. “Danielle,” he says.

  “Yes?” she asks in suspense. She can already hear her rights being read to her.

  “You have a nice day.” He hands her the paperwork. “Sorry for any inconvenience.”

  She sighs relief. Before they can even get out of her way, she pulls off, paperwork still in her hand. As she looks at the many police as she passes, she thinks of how close of a call this was. It all could’ve went another way and that way was her in the back of the police car on her way to face murder charges. She looks to the sky and does something that she hasn’t done in years. “Thank you, God!”

  39

  As Storm pulls into her assigned parking space at her complex, all she can think about is getting into her bed and sleeping for hours. She can only hope that when she awakens she will have forgotten all about the terrible weekend she’s had. She grabs her purse and drags herself sluggishly across the parking lot.

  Her phone rings and it’s no surprise to see Money Sal’s number flashing across the screen. Between him and the old man she’s about ready to toss her phone into a river. It seems as if they are taking turns calling her. She’s equally tired of both of them.

  She tucks her phone into her pocket and grabs her key, just a few doors away from hers. She sticks the key into the lock and before twisting it, the door parts. She stands there baffled, knowing damn well that she locked the door before she left. Normal response sends her running into the apartment.

  Her eyes bulge when she sees her living room turned upside down. She thinks break in and runs straight to her room. She prays
the money is still there. The bedroom is equally ransacked. The dressers and the bed is turned over.

  The cold and empty feeling in the room tells her that she’s been wiped out. She has little hope that her money is still here. She runs to the closet only to find the shelves have been ripped off the wall. Her fur coats are gone and so are her shoes and her dresses. The whole closet has been cleaned out including the safe that her money was in. She looks onto her dresser where her jewelry box used to be and the tears of rage slowly stream from her eyes, burning a hole in her face.

  Her first thought is to call the police, but quickly remembers they are the last people she can stand before right this moment. She races to the doorway with no starting point leading to the people who could be behind this. She snatches the door open, and there stands a man assuming the position to knock.

  “I was just about to knock,” the superintendent of the building says.

  “Somebody broke into my apartment,” she says frantically. “Did you see anybody strange around here?”

  His face saddens. “No one broke in. About fifty detectives just left here not even a half hour ago.” Her mind races frantically. She can’t speak. “They came knocking on my door asking me if I knew you. They forced me to let them into the apartment. I tried to stall them but they were persistent.

  “They had your picture and everything. I didn’t recognize you at first because hair color and freckles threw me off,” he says staring into her face looking for the freckles she has covered with makeup. He stares at her hair as well. This is his first time seeing her natural hair.

  She’s furious right now. “You let them into my fucking apartment? What did you tell them?” she asks as she steps close enough to wring his neck. She has to take her rage out on someone.

  She feels his heart banging against her chest. “Nothing, nothing at all. I pretended that I just started and hadn’t met all the tenants yet.” She stares into his eyes and senses he can be telling the truth. She knows he has a huge crush on her and maybe that saved her.

  “They gave me this and told me to call them when you showed up,” he says as he flashes the detective’s card. She snatches it from his hand. “So, are you gonna call them?” she asks with a flirting eye.

  “No, I would never.”

  “Fine,” she says as she digs into her bra. She gives him a long glimpse of her breast, just enough to lead him on. “Here,” she says counting a few hundreds out. “Take this. I trust that you will keep your eyes on my apartment while I’m gone.” She backpedals away from him. “Lock my door, and if you see them snooping around here or they come to you again, don’t hesitate to call me.” Right before she gets to the staircase, she sends him a flirtatious eye. “Thank you and I will pay you back for this one day.”

  He stands there googly-eyed as she disappears. She damn near twists an ankle or two leaping down the stairs. As she lands onto the last step, the heel of her left boot breaks in half but that doesn’t stop her. She runs like a peg-legged pirate to her car. Storm hops in and speeds off, burning rubber.

  40

  Later that Night

  Storm sits at her normal penny slot machine while Toy and Wendy work the casino. Jazz didn’t come along this trip and explained to that she can no longer work the casino. That run in with her husband’s partner was enough to understand that Atlantic City is dangerously close. She told her that she has no problem going on the out-of-town ventures but nothing local.

  Storm had no choice but to respect that. She’s happy that Jazz has made her mind up to work with them, even under those terms. She knows she will be all right once she learns how to separate herself from the guilt. Any successful working girl knows how to separate business from personal.

  Storm has been attempting to drink her problems away, but those problems haven’t gone anywhere. She feels the walls closing in on her. For the life of her, she can’t figure out how the detectives found her apartment. She can’t even say it’s an inside job because the only person that knows where she lives is Toy, and of course, the old man. She questions if he told them but she highly doubts it. He’s still calling and she still hasn’t answered. A few times she’s considered answering just to hear him out to ease her curiosity. His voice messages kind of give her a feeling that he knows nothing about them raiding her home.

  He spoke of wanting to see her because he misses her. She’s sure what he really misses is drinking from her fountain. It’s been almost two weeks since he’s quenched his thirst. That’s the last thing on her mind right now.

  Not only have they found her hiding spot, they’ve also taken all her prized possessions and over a hundred grand of her savings, one hundred and fourteen to be exact. That money was money she earned on the road with her girls. She feels like the police taking her money is karma for stealing Money Sal’s in Ohio. Karma is something that she really doesn’t believe in but it did cross her mind.

  Now all she has in her possession is the money she stole from him. She originally saw it as a come-up, not ever thinking it would be her last. She has no choice but to think if she hadn’t taken the money, she would’ve been assed out now. She sees it as a blessing in disguise and that is how she’s able to justify it. Now, the only money she has is that money and the few dollars Breezy owes her from their move. She hates that she has to start all over but she charges it to the game.

  It’s the fact that right now her hard earned money is gone. To make herself feel better she looks at the one hundred and fourteen thousand as bail money. They got the money but not her and that wouldn’t be the case had she not gotten caught up in that spot check at the airport. That delay helped her to remain free a little bit longer. She counts the blessings that she’s received throughout this storm.

  She looks up to the ceiling, feeling the need for a second time. “Thank you, God.”

  The vibrating of her phone captures her attention. She exhales frustration as she sees the old man’s name, once again. While it’s ringing she feeds a bill into the slot machine. She looks back at the phone and the red light indicates that he’s left a message.

  She’s eager to hear his message. She dials and listens closely. Maybe she can get some type of read from him to indicate that he’s the culprit who gave her up.

  “Baby, it’s been days since I’ve heard from you. I haven’t eaten or slept. I’m making myself sick, worrying about you,” he sniffs. It’s evident to her that he’s crying. “Please, just pick up the phone and call me. I need to hear your voice and know that you are okay. Please, baby,” he says before sniffing again. “I will be waiting for your call. I love you,” he says before ending the call.

  She stares at the phone in her hand. Strangely she feels something for him that she’s never felt for anyone. It is compassion. She quickly tries to flush that feeling out of her system, but it goes nowhere.

  She feels someone standing over her shoulder and turns around abruptly. What Storm sees almost causes her to faint. The gun in the holster, on the hip of the man in a suit is enough reason to panic and she does. Two more men in suits approach from nowhere. The three of them surround her, giving her nowhere to go even if she tried. She stares at the three six-footers and realizes that there’s no way she could possibly fight her way out of this. They got me, she thinks to herself. Mentally, she prepares for all else to follow.

  The man in the middle opens his mouth to speak. “Excuse me. We are going to have to ask you to evacuate the premises.”

  She’s baffled. She was expecting to hear her rights read to her; instead they are asking her to leave. This can’t be what she thought it was. She realizes that they are cops but not the cops she thought. These men clearly are Vice cops who work for the casino. “Evacuate? Why?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What the fuck it look like I’m doing? I’m gambling.”

  The man shakes his head in disbelief. “We have rea
son to believe otherwise.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? You see me sitting here putting my money in the machine,” she says while holding the vouchers in her hand.

  “That’s not what you’re really doing here. There’s no sexual solicitation inside of the casino. We are asking you to leave.”

  “Sexual solicitation? I ain’t no fucking prostitute,” she says irately. She’s now causing a scene and everyone in the area is watching.

  “You’re here every couple of days, and we have you on camera to prove it.”

  “On camera doing what? Gambling like everybody else? Run your camera back because that’s all you gon’ see me do,” she says with confidence because she’s never done anything else besides the time with the Chinese man. She’s sure that isn’t what they are referring to. “Y’all can’t throw me out for no fucking accusations.”

  “Ma’am, we have the right to be selective,” he says, pointing to the sign. “Can you please exit before we have to force you out?”

  She feels disrespected that they are accusing her of being a prostitute and making the people around them believe the same. “Fuck that! I ain’t going nowhere. I’m here gambling like everybody else.”

  The man in the backdrop takes his handcuffs from his belt, and it’s then that she comes to her senses. She can’t stand a prostitution charge. It’s a misdemeanor, but that is enough to get fingerprinted, and that is the last thing she needs at this time. She knows she’s lost this battle.

  She kicks her chair over with rage before walking away. The cops follow her through the casino, humiliating her for everyone to see. As she reaches the door she spots Toy who is looking at her with sadness in her eyes. Seeing her being escorted by three detectives leads her to believe the worse.

  She sends Toy a quick reassuring look to let her know that it’s not what she’s thinking. The detective holds the door open for her to exit. As the door closes behind her, she kicks it with all of her might, hoping to shatter the glass. She can’t believe that she’s been kicked out of the premise for being a whore. What’s harder to believe is that she’s banned from her old faithful money spot. She looks at the cop who stands behind the door, and it feels like the window of opportunity has been closed in her face. And just when she thinks things can’t get any worse… they do.