The Circle: Dayvid

by Ty Marshall

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  His instructions were plain enough: "... Spare nothing from the sword."

  (1 Samuel 15:3)

  A Month Later

  The footsteps above him, along with the rapping of the latest Meek Mill’s song, let Dayvid know there was only one lookout on the porch of the dope spot. Probably the same young lookout with the headphones around his neck that he had saw for the past few nights patrolling the front door. He had been laying on the spot for over a week, watching the hoppers, the fiends and all comings and goings and took noticed that it was making its fair share of money. Dayvid had become a mercenary, hitting spots all over city in order to stay afloat, while he searched for Nova and plotted another big score that could get him the funds he needed to get to Mexico. So far both had come up empty. Nova was nowhere to be found. Everywhere Dayvid thought she may have settled down turned out to be a dead end. He knew Baltimore was all she had ever known, it was her comfort zone and most likely Nova wouldn’t have strayed too far away. But as the days turned to weeks he was starting to think she had left Maryland for good and like the rest of the world she was under the assumption he was dead. That’s what made it imperative that he hit a big lick and get out of dodge, it was becoming increasingly harder to remain out of sight when he needed to come out and get money.

  Dayvid took a deep breath and pulled the mask down over his face while holding his Desert Eagle close to his chest. The nervousness he once felt as a young teen had long disappeared. You had to have nerves of steel in his line of work and Dayvid Porter had them in spades. Popping up from his hiding spot under the porch steps, Dayvid caught the unsuspecting lookout by surprise. The big gun in his face caused the young man’s heart to skip a beat, making him lose control of his bladder and pissing himself. Dayvid laughed to himself as he knocked the boy’s headphones off his head and reached in his waist looking for a gun but found none.

  They got this lil’ nigga out here with no strap, stupid muthafuckas, Dayvid thought to himself. “How many niggas inside?” he asked while pressing his gun against the young man’s forehead.

  “Two,” the young man said fighting back tears. He was clearly not built for this life.

  Dayvid grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed him towards the door. “You better get that door open,” he demanded.

  The young man, in fear for his life, was willing to do whatever he was asked, if it meant staying alive. He knocked on the door of the spot in a rhythm only known to the men inside. A few seconds later the door opened and a short, brown, stocky man stood in the door with his gun tucked in his waist but showing.

  “What you want nigga? I told your lil’ dumb ass to stay on the porch and keep a look out,” the man chastised the youngster. “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you?” he asked noticing the look on his face.

  Dayvid suddenly appeared in the door with his gun trained on the man, who instinctively reached for his weapon. The loud bark of the Desert Eagle shook the house and echoed throughout the block. The bullet hit the man in the chest lifting him off his feet, sending him backwards into the house. Dayvid pushed the young hopper into the house, using him as a shield while holding the gun to his head. The youngster’s ears were still ringing from the shot being fired. A tall, dark, slim man raced out from another room with his gun drawn but hesitated seeing Dayvid holding the young hustler in the line of fire and his man lying on the floor dead. His indecision was costly as Dayvid fired a shot at him barley missing, causing him to drop his weapon and raise his hands in surrender.

  “No disrespect my nigga, but do you know who spot you robbing?” he asked hoping that would change the masked man’s mind.

  “Nah and I don’t give a fuck. Now drop that bag off?” Dayvid shouted referring to the black garbage bag on the table behind him. The man did as he was told, retrieving the bag and dropping it at Dayvid’s feet before being made to join the young lookout, who was already stretched out on the floor. Dayvid scooped the bag up, looked inside to verify it was cash then dipped out the door.

  Dayvid dashed down the alley on the side of the house that led to the next block, where he had stashed his getaway car. He threw the bag into the front seat and jumped in the car just as two police cars came racing down the block with their lights on and sirens blaring. Dayvid quickly removed his mask, put his hat on his head pulling it down low and laying his seat back as they passed. His appearance had changed drastically as of late. He was sporting a full beard and a curly afro that were both unkempt making him unrecognizable but he still wasn’t taking any chances. Dayvid had never been overly concerned with his looks, he was naturally a fly dude. The old adage “Clothes don’t make the man” fit Dayvid Porter to a tee. He looked good in whatever he put on without much effort, but looking good was the furthest thing from his mind. He was in beast mode and any and everybody was on the menu. He watched as a few more patrol cars zoomed pass then pulled out heading back to his hide out.

  Dayvid parked the Acura a block over like usual and cut through the wooded path heading for the fence that led to the backyard of the basement hideout. Moving rapidly through the cut, his adrenaline was still pumping from the rush of the robbery as the bag swung in one hand and he held his gun tightly in the other. His mind was focused solely on counting his take. He could tell by the weight of the bag that it wasn’t as much as he hoped and he was already thinking of his next play. Dayvid’s mind automatically began to bounce ideas around when a sudden noise startled him and a man popped out of the bushes behind him. He turned in time to see the man raising his hand with something in it. Dayvid reacted quickly lifting his weapon and firing twice hitting the man with both shots. Dayvid froze in shock seeing the man crumble to the ground. As he got a clearer look and realized it was just a homeless man with a soda bottle in his hand, he felt bad.

  “Aw shit,” Dayvid voiced realizing what he had just done. Although he was no stranger to committing murder, he had never killed an innocent person or someone who didn’t deserve it. He stared down at the dead man as he filled up with guilt. Dayvid was moving recklessly and he was wound up tight. Damn I’m lunchin’, he said to himself. Looking around to see if anyone had seen what he had done, he realized the view to the path was obscured by all the greenery. With no other choice, he grabbed the man by his arms and dragged him back into the bushes trying to hide his body. He knew it wouldn’t be long before someone stumbled upon the dead man or he started stinking, either way it wasn’t good. Dayvid immediately made up his mind he wouldn’t be around when that happened.

  The hideout was now too hot to take a chance staying there and it would not be long before cops were crawling all over the block. Dayvid hopped the fence and quickly disappeared into the apartment before reemerging a few seconds later with a duffle bag over his shoulder. He threw his hood over his head and began his trek up the block in search of a new spot to hide out. Dayvid remembered an Extended Stay motel off of I-695 that took cash and asked no questions. It was filled with mostly welfare recipients and drug addicts. It was also right by the highway, just in case he needed to make a quick escape. Dayvid decided to ditch his hoopty. In favor of the MTA light rail, it had served its purpose. He had another car stashed in a garage in Essex that he planned on using from now on. Slipping into the MTA station at Franklin and Warwick, he boarded an eastbound train for Old Eastern and Back River Neck in route to the motel.

  The motel sign was dimly lit and looked as if it could go out at any minute as Dayvid strolled through the parking lot and into the run down spot’s office. After a few minutes he exited with a key to his room on the second floor. Ascending the steps, he was greeted by two fiends engaged in an argument as soon as he reached the top. The drug addict couple ignored his presence and continued their shouting match as Dayvid walked around them. After a few more steps, he stood in front of the door that read 225. He entered the room and clicked the switch letting the door close behind him. A few roaches ran for cover as the room lit up and a couple bold ones didn�
�t move at all. Dayvid tossed his bag on the chair and began looking around at the room. He almost wished he had left the light off but it would have to do. He removed the gun from his waist sitting it on the nightstand next to the bed before sitting down on the side of the bed and immediately began contemplating his next move.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “He gives power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increases strength.”

  (Isaiah 40:29)

  Nova had long lost track of what day it was. The date and time hadn’t mattered much since the news of Dayvid’s death shattered her world. Wearied by her constant crying, she blacked out the entire room and slept for days at a time, hoping the pain would eventually subside. She had gone through the chain of emotions and had come to the conclusion that the emptiness she felt would never really go away. A love that strong wasn’t easy to let go, forgotten or thrown by the wayside. Laying in the plush king sized bed, flipping through channels had become commonplace for her but she knew that she couldn’t hide from the world forever. The night of his death she balled up on the floor and cried for him, contemplating suicide herself, wanting nothing more than to join him in the afterlife. But her better judgment prevailed and although she had decided against taking her own life, she hadn’t really decided to live either.

  Nova for some reason felt different this morning. Today she had awaken with vigor and a renewed sense of hope. Tired of staring at the four walls of her somber hotel room, she wanted to get out and pamper herself. Feeling as though she had neglected herself long enough, Nova located a hair salon and spa in walking distance of the hotel. She also planned on doing a little retail therapy while she was at it. After a hot shower Nova threw on some tights and a t-shirt along with a pair of sneakers. Putting her hair up in bun, she took a stack of cash from the safe and stuffed it in her bag. Nova was indecisive if leaving all the cash in the room was a good idea but she also knew carrying it all on her wasn’t smart either. Checking herself one last time, she smiled then headed out the door to start her day.

  The few hours spent in the chair seemed well worth as the stylist spun Nova around allowing her to admire herself in the mirror. The wide smile on her face answered the hair stylist’s question before she could even ask and left no doubt in her mind that her client was pleased. Nova loved her new look, a curly, medium bob with side swept bangs and blonde highlights. She felt beautiful again and sprung from the chair full of energy like a school kid when the bell rings. She paid the woman making sure to tip to show her appreciate then exited out the door in search of a boutique on 14th Street the hair dresser had told her about. Shopping was definitely Nova’s favorite pastime, she found peace in the alone time, it was therapeutic for her. She could lose herself for hours at a time just trying on clothes and buying as she called it and today she needed it more than ever before.

  Sashaying out the boutique with two hands filled with bags, the pep had returned to Nova’s strut. Confidence was something she had never lacked but the bruises on her heart were deep and her crushed spirit needed repairing. Although she hadn’t fully returned to her normal self, by the roar coming from her stomach it was clear that her appetite had returned. Nova had grown tired of the food at the hotel and was in no rush to return to her lifeless room she had occupied for the past six weeks. So when she came across the Pearl Dive Oyster Palace she didn’t hesitate to enter.

  The boardwalk themed seafood restaurant and bar had a rustic décor that showcased a variety of repurposed items from around the country. The southern hospitality feeling of the place welcomed Nova upon entering and she was quickly seated at a table a few feet from the bar. It had been a while since she was in a social setting and looking around the room at the mixed after work crowd Nova began to realize how much she missed it. She entertained herself briefly watching the other patrons mingle and sharing laughs with one another while waiting on the glass of wine she ordered. When her waitress returned, Nova asked for more time to go over the menu and the young lady gladly obliged. As her eyes canvassed the menu she couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching her every move. Peeking up from the menu, Nova noticed a handsome, caramel complexion gentleman leaning on the bar dressed in a grey fitted V-neck sweater that hugged his slim athletic frame, showing off his well-built body. His True Religion jeans and loosely laced timberlands gave him a bit of edge and complemented his otherwise clean cut look. His sleeves were rolled up showing off the nice gold watch he wore on his wrist. Nova was mesmerized by his brown eyes that stared so intently into her own not allowing her to turn away.

  Watching him stride across the room towards her holding a drink in his hand, she thought to herself how the closer he got the better he looked. Nova returned her eyes to the menu in front of her, pretending she didn’t see him coming.

  When Charles St. Clair saw her, he recognized her immediately. Though he didn’t know her name and couldn’t place her face, he knew the beautiful woman looked familiar.

  “Eating alone?”

  Nova looked up allowing their eyes to meet again. “Yes…I am.”

  Saint smiled at her. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  His dazzling smile was persuasive, almost irresistible making Nova consider his offer more than she normally would have. But she really was in no mood for company, especially of the opposite sex.

  “Sorry, but I’m gonna have to decline,” Nova shook her head with a smile, trying to lighten the blow of rejection. “But thanks for the offer.”

  “No problem ma, can’t blame me for tryin’ tho,” he said taking it surprisingly well.

  Nova could tell he wasn’t the type of nigga that heard no a lot. He could probably pull out his phone, scroll his call log and find a willing piece of pussy with ease. Fact was he was a fly, sexy nigga Nova had to admit to herself.

  “Well can I get a name to match the face?” he asked. “At least I could take that with me on this walk of shame back to the bar,” he said with a smile.

  Nova smiled back finding him very charming. “Renee,” she lied only willing to give her fake name.

  “I’m Charles. But everybody calls me Saint,” he said. “Nice to meet you ma, I’m gonna let you get back to your menu tho. You might wanna try the BBQ shrimp, they’re bangin’.”

  “Thank you,” she nodded at his suggestion. “Nice meeting you too.”

  Nova sat alone enjoying her shrimp, Saint had been right, they were bangin’ and they went well with her second glass of Moscato. Finishing up, she was now ready to head back to her room and enjoy a hot bubble bath while winding down. She smiled seeing her waitress heading her way, happy she wouldn’t have to wait long for the check.

  “You ready for dessert?” the bubbly young lady asked with a smile on her face.

  “No,” Nova waved her off with a smile. “But I am ready for the check.”

  “You’re good ma’am,” the waitress said.

  A confused Nova just stared. “Excuse me?”

  “Your bill has been taken care of already,” she paused and turned around. “By the gentleman over there,” she said pointing to Saint at the bar.

  When Nova made eye contact with him, Saint just raised his glass, smiled and nodded. Nova smiled back, said thank you and headed out the door.

  She hadn’t made it halfway up the block when she heard Saint calling her name from behind.

  “Renee! Excuse me, Renee!” he yelled.

  It took him calling her a second time for it to register that he was talking to her. Damn just when I thought this nigga was cool. I ain’t for the stalker shit, she thought to herself as she turned to see what he wanted. But to her surprise Saint stood there holding all her shopping bags in his hands.

  “You forgot something ma,” he charmingly said walking up on her.

  “Oh my God,” Nova said dumbfounded. “Thank you so much, I can’t believe I did that. You’re a life saver,” she said hugging him.

  “Yeah, this would have fucked your night up. We can’t have that,” h
e said lifting the bags seeing that she had spent a nice bit of bread. “These bags a lil’ heavy, let me carry em to ya car for you.”

  “It’s ok, I didn’t drive but I’m just up the block. I’ll be alright,” she insisted.

  “At least let me walk you then. You don’t need to be carrying all these bags out here by yourself. It’s getting dark.”

  Nova thought about it for a second then agreed. She really didn’t feel like carrying those bags any longer anyway, plus she appreciated the chivalry. The two walked the short distance to the hotel exchanging small talk on the way. Nova found out Saint was originally from New York but now lived in Baltimore and he was only in DC on business for the weekend. She didn’t divulge too much information about herself, only that she had just moved to DC and she was staying at the hotel until she found an apartment. A lie because she hadn’t made up her mind as to where she was going to settle down. Standing in front of the hotel, Nova was still feeling grateful that he had noticed she left her bags.

  “Thanks again, I can’t thank you enough,” Nova said.

  “You could let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night,” Saint said smoothly staring into her as he clasped her hand in his.

  “Dinner?” she asked giving him the side eye jokingly. “I don’t know.”