by Amir Sanchez
“This the life I chose, and I have to live with that. I ain’t doing no fucking telling. As a matter of fact, I think I need to contact my lawyer,” he stated while trying to conceal his pain and sorrow.
“Lawyer? Oh, you must not have been notified. Mr. McMonagle has resigned from your case as of this morning. You think I would have been able to come within two feet of you with McMonagle still being your lawyer? I wish. But anyway, I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more benefit to each other. I tried. Before I leave, let me show you this picture. They sent this over to me this morning. I thought you’d be interested in seeing it,” he explained before retrieving it from his inside pocket and laying it facedown on his bed. He shook the chaplain’s hand, then turned and walked away.
When Gus picked up the picture to view it, his heart was broken into a million pieces. It showed Trish’s body from her stomach up to her face. On her left side, he could clearly see the deformity in the section where her ribs were removed. Her right arm from the elbow down was twice its normal size and covered with bullet holes. There was a tube down her throat, and her eyes were swollen shut. If that wasn’t enough, her face was covered in black and blue bruises. All the strength and restraint in the world could not stop the tears from pouring out of his eyes. Seeing his wife stretched out like that touched an unfamiliar side that he didn’t know existed.
The fight was over. Defeat had overcome him.
Adam purposely walked away slowly, knowing that once Gus saw the picture, he would reconsider his offer. Had he been a betting man, he would have gambled the house, and indeed, he would have come out a winner. Gus practically screamed and begged for him to return with the same offer.
Over the Edge
Consuela drove straight to Sha’Ron’s grave site at Cobbscreek Cemetery. The grave was yet to have a tombstone, and the soil was still fresh. It took all the courage she had left just to walk over to her son’s grave. From there, she fell to her knees and began rubbing her hands through the dirt, as if it provided comfort for her son that lay beneath it. Once she found the correct words to say, she voiced her pain and sorrow out loud, believing that he could somehow hear every last word.
“Sha’Ron, my son. My baby, I’m so sorry. I should have never brought you into this lifestyle. I should have never condoned it. Now look where it got you. All the money, cars, and jewelry can’t do you no good in here. Baby, you ain’t die alone. The mafuckas that did this to you paid the ultimate price . . . every last one of them. But I’m tired, baby . . . real tired. My heart is broken, and the guilt in my soul won’t let me rest. I just can’t live with myself,” she sobbed. She lay on the fresh dirt and cried until she had no tears left.
Afterward, she walked back to the car, picked up her cell phone, and called Leaf. While she waited for him to answer, she loaded the clip to her gun with one bullet.
“Hey, Ma. Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you to call me for days,” he rambled on without even giving her a chance to speak.
“Listen clearly, Ka’Leaf. It’s done. I did what I needed to do. Now you’ve got the green light to go. You make sure you take care of everything I asked you to. Get a pen and paper so I can give you this nigga’s house address.”
“Hold on a second, Ma.” Leaf moved the phone away from his mouth. “Nicki! Bring me a pen and piece of paper,” he instructed his girlfriend.
“All right, Mom, give it to me.”
“8701 Bailey Road. It’s a few blocks up from the King of Prussia Mall. You got it?” she asked.
“Yea, Ma, I got it.”
“Okay. Good. Take care of yourself. Good-bye, Ka’Leaf.” Consuela swallowed a lump in her throat. “I love you, son,” she expressed before disconnecting the call.
“Mom, you there? Mom, hello!” he yelled into the phone to no avail. She had hung up on him. He tried to call her back several times, but there was no answer. This frustrated him so much that he threw the phone against the wall, breaking it into pieces. Something about that call sent a chill down his spine. Nicki ran to his side to investigate the problem.
“What’s wrong, baby? That was your mother, wasn’t it? Is she all right?”
“Yeah, that was my mom, but she didn’t sound like herself. Something wasn’t right about that call,” Leaf admitted. He had a weird feeling that he couldn’t really understand, but he had shit to take care of so he had to shake it off for now.
“Anyway, I got to go take care of something that might get really dangerous. If I make it out alive, I want us to settle down for a minute. I gave my mom my word I would take care of this, though, so I gotta follow through with it. Hold shit down ’til I get back.” As he stood up and prepared to walk away, she grabbed his legs and wrapped her arms around him. She cried hysterically while holding on for dear life. All this emotional shit was starting to get to him. His little brother was dead, his mother wasn’t acting like herself, his cousin whom he’d once loved like a brother, was now an enemy, and now his girl was having a breakdown.
“What? What’s wrong now? Nicki, I can’t handle all this crying and begging. I told you I got some business to take care of. Now, stop all the mafucking crying, get up, and act like you got some sense,” he snapped. Nicki couldn’t keep her secret in any longer. She knew Leaf was heading over to Black’s to kill him. She couldn’t let him walk out of that door without him knowing the truth about things. The time was now or never.
“Okay, I’m sorry, but I need you to hear me out, Leaf. Remember the night when your brother got killed? I told you when I heard the gunshots, I ran to the window and saw somebody with a black hoodie running away from the truck. Well, when we got to the hospital and your aunt showed up, I am almost 100 percent certain that she was wearing the same hooded jacket I saw the killer wearing. Then, I thought it was really weird that Connie kept asking me what I saw that night. When I told her I had seen someone running away in a black hoodie, she asked me if I saw the face or car. I answered all of her questions at the hospital. But then she came back a few days later, asking me the same questions all over again. She seemed paranoid as hell, and I thought it was so weird of her.”
“Nicki, she was asking questions probably because she wants to get to the bottom of things just like me and moms.”
“Yeah, I kept telling myself that too. But, this is what put the icing on the cake. You remember how she gave your mom the hoodie that night at the hospital?”
“Yeah,” Leaf nodded, wondering where the hell Nicki was going with all of this.
“Well, when your mom came over the other day, I caught her in the parking lot, and I noticed she was still wearing the same hoodie. As we were talking, she remembered there was something important she had to do, and she suddenly bolted out to her truck. As she ran, I watched her, and a flashback of the killer running away came to my mind. Although the run wasn’t the same, the shape was indisputably identical. And who is your mom’s identical twin?” Nicki looked at Leaf who sat there with no expression on his face.
The story she presented was nothing more than a story to Leaf because he was in denial. He underestimated that Connie was heartless enough to carry out an execution on her own family. There was no way to be certain the hit was for him or Sha’Ron, and there was no way to be certain of who the killer had really been. Nicki’s story did make a little bit of sense, but why hadn’t she said anything sooner? There was just too much speculation, uncertainty, for him to say he believed her.
What if Black got her to turn on me, and she’s trying to set me up to kill my aunt? What if she’s the one that killed my brother that night? How is it that she was the only witness that night? Leaf was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. His mind was racing, and he felt like he was about to lose it. He stood to his feet, grabbed his head, and just snapped. The little bit of sanity he still possessed instantly went out the window.
Whack! Bam! Boom! Leaf was punching, kicking, and stomping Nicki out.
“Get the fuck up, bitch! What, you fucking that nigga B
lack? You trying to protect that mafucka, ain’t you?” Whack! He smacked her again. Smacks turned to punches, and if that wasn’t damaging enough, he pulled his gun from his hip and commenced to pistol-whip her severely.
“Leaf, please stop!” Nicki begged him, “Leaf, please!” she said with a mouth full of blood. The more she screamed, the harder he hit her. Before long, she wasn’t able to scream at all. The blood from her nose and mouth had prevented her from breathing. She ended up choking to death on her own blood. Leaf was exhausted and collapsed onto the couch, the last images in his head before blacking out were of his mother, Connie, Gus, Black, and Sha’Ron.
Karma Has Come
Around eight o’clock that morning, Rosa came knocking on the door, waking Black from a pleasant dream to a horrific nightmare. Before he allowed himself to snap on Rosa, he took notice that she held the phone out to him and whispered, “Police!”
Believing that it was somehow connected to last night’s deadly attacks, he was at first hesitant to accept the call. On second thought, he didn’t want them to be under the impression that he had something to hide. Using his better judgment, he took the call.
“Yes, what’s this about?”
“This is Homicide Detective Leonard Booker. I’ve been trying to contact you since a little after six o’clock this morning. Does your wife own First Starter’s Preschool in West Philly?”
“Yes, but what does this have to do with you calling my phone at eight o’clock in the morning?” Black asked with concern.
“Let me ask you these two questions before I answer that. Does she own a maroon Mercedes-Benz? And do you have any children?”
“Listen, I don’t know what the fuck this is about. But, yes, that’s my wife’s car, and, yes, we have a daughter together. Now, why does all this concern a homicide detective?”
“Sir, I’m afraid you need to come down to the Philadelphia morgue and identify the two bodies believed to be your wife and daughter. We discovered the bodies, fitting their descriptions, in the parking lot by the maroon Mercedes at the day care center. They were apparently victims of an execution-style killing.”
“I don’t know how you got this fucking number, but I strongly suggest you stop playing on my fucking telephone. I will have this number traced back to you, find out who you are and where you live, and kill you and everyone you love. You hear me, motherfucker?” he snapped.
“Umm, sir, I understand how difficult this must be for you. It’s very difficult just telling you. But if you’ll turn to your local news station, you will see for yourself that I speak the truth. Afterward, sir, I urge you to come down to the morgue so that we can get a positive—”
Black slammed the phone down before the man could finish and bolted across the room to the television. As soon as he turned on Channel Seven, he caught the middle of a breaking news story about the day care shootings.
“. . . neighbors and coworkers are clueless as to who would want to kill a mother and child in such a malicious manner, outside of a learning center for young children. Parents are outraged and fear it could have been any one of them. One of the parents shared her feelings with Channel 7 Action News.”
“I’m just speechless. What kind of person would do something so sick to a child that is three years old? Chyna was the sweetest person you could meet, and her daughter was the most adorable child. I can’t understand why anybody would do this. My prayers go out to them.”
“Our prayers here at Channel 7 Action News go out to them and their families as well. In other news, a man was killed and two women seriously injured after a gunman opened fire on their car and rammed the back of their vehicle with his, sending them flying into oncoming traffic. There are not many details being mentioned about the victims’ identities at this time. Federal authorities have taken full control of that investigation, and we’ve been told that they are keeping it under wraps. We’ll be back with these and more stories making headlines around the city when we return from this commercial break.”
Black was unable to move. He just sat there staring at the television. Reality was too much for him to bear. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t cry, nor could he feel. His philosophy of being a winner regardless of the situation was challenged—and defeated. Feeling like he was a loser was something he couldn’t come to terms with. He didn’t understand it, never experienced it, nor was he prepared for it. In fact, he had been winning for so long, he believed he was exempt from losing. Life was a bitch, but Karma was a motherfucker. The same acts he terrorized others with over the years came back on him 100 times worse.
Suddenly, a loud crashing sound came from downstairs and snapped him out of the trance. Rosa let out a horrified scream, followed by the eruption of gunshots. Her screams were silenced. Dozens of footsteps could be heard scurrying through the house. They ransacked and invaded rooms downstairs, then made their way up. His mind was temporarily taken away from his personal family issues, and his killer instinct kicked in. He stood up and tiptoed over to the closet where he kept his AK-47 with the drum attached. In his mind, he thought the intruders were those responsible for killing his wife and child. Their footsteps and voices were now directly outside of his bedroom door. Aiming the assault rifle in the direction of the area where they were creeping, he squeezed the trigger, firing a burst of rounds straight through the doors and walls. He heard the thumping sound of at least one intruder hitting the floor before shots were exchanged. It was now an all-out battle. At least forty or fifty shots erupted. The AK-47 was too powerful and equipped with too many shots for the intruders to stick around. When he heard them retreating, he pursued them with caution. Stepping out of his bedroom, he stood over the one who he heard hit the ground. There was a hole in his stomach so big that his intestines were easily exposed. He didn’t recognize him. He fired a shot into his head just to make sure the man was dead.
Hearing the slamming of car doors outside, he darted down the steps, hoping to catch the rest of the intruders before they escaped. By the time he opened the front door, they were already pulling off. That didn’t stop him from letting off a few shots at the car, hoping to slow them enough that he could catch up. Snatching the keys to the Escalade off of the key hook, he ran out to the truck. His adrenalin was flowing so much, he never noticed or felt the bullet wounds that he’d suffered to his shoulder and left thigh, nor did they slow him down. Throwing the truck into Drive, he pulled recklessly from his driveway and gunned in the direction he last saw them travel.
* * *
“Yo, EZ! Load the gat up . . . I think this nigga coming. Hold up. Hold up. Get down real quick. Police headed toward his crib. Let them pass first. I hope ain’t nobody get the description of this car,” Leaf conveyed in obvious panic. They had to cross two more lights before getting back on the expressway to Philly. It seemed like the lights took forever to change. Leaf was watching the rearview mirror the entire time, while EZ reloaded the Glock. Once they made it on to the expressway, relief set it. But not for EZ. He started crying and talking some shit that didn’t make any sense.
“We got to go back! We got to get Ikeal out of there. He might not have been dead. Come on, Leaf, turn this mafucka around, dog. Real talk,” he ordered with the gun pointed to Leaf’s side.
“Motherfucka, is you crazy? The nigga dead! Police gonna be all over that mafucka! Give me this fuckin’ gun, nigga,” he snapped before snatching the gun from his hand. While he was busy arguing with EZ, he momentarily was off guard. This prohibited him from observing the black Escalade that pulled up beside him with an AK hanging out of the window—until it was too late. Several shots came through the window. He was only grazed in the arm, but the impact caused him to lose control and swerve around dangerously. They sideswiped another car before miraculously regaining control. Once he glanced into the rearview mirror and discovered that Black was now a few cars behind him, he then turned his attention to EZ.
“See what the fuck your dumb ass made me do? You almost got me killed, nigg
a . . . You stupid motherfucka!” Boop! Boop! Boop! He shot him in the head three times at point-blank range. Numerous motorists pulled to the side of the road to let him pass. As he did, he observed some of them talking on their cell phones and staring at him in disbelief and fear. Realizing they were calling the police, he cracked his neck on both sides, preparing to finish off what he started. He slowed the car up significantly, allowing Black to catch up. From a distance, he spotted the blue and red flashing lights blocking the roads ahead of him. He managed to get on the blindside of the truck. While the speed started to pick back up, they slammed their cars into each other, trying to run each other off the road. The road block was just ahead of them, and their speed was well over 60 miles per hour, and picking up. The state troopers had no choice but to start firing. One of their bullets hit the tire of the Escalade, sending it slamming into the median before flipping over several times, eventually landing on its roof.
When police fire finally ceased, Leaf’s car was inoperable. He jumped out and ran in the opposite direction. The troopers unleashed two full-grown fierce German shepherds that quickly caught up to him and began biting at his legs. He was able to get two shots off into one of the dogs before the other forcefully took him down to the ground.
Decisions and Drastic Measures
Adam made sure to get a written and signed certificate of agreement with Gus before transporting him out of the jail in an ambulance filled with federal agents. The agreement consisted of him pleading guilty to the crimes he was accused of, confessing to his criminal history and lifestyle, and fully cooperating with the United States Government. Gus had tried to get immunity for Trisha and his mom too, but they told him the girls would have to sign their own certificate of agreements. Failure to live up to his end of the agreement would result in his guilty plea being used against him. He would then be sentenced to the maximum term allowed. Part of him denied that he had agreed to such an arrangement. At this point, there was no sense in crying over spilled milk. It was now him against the world.