Cameron 5

by Jade Jones

  The money was awesome, but the extra bullshit wasn’t worth it. As a matter of fact, none of it was worth it in Jude’s opinion. Had Jude known that he’d have to sell his soul to King, he would’ve never agreed to this lifestyle.

  After grabbing his pistol from the oak desk’s top drawer, Jude stood to his feet, and opened the sliding French doors. As he headed towards the front door he wondered who was both bold and rude enough to show up at his house uninvited and unannounced.

  This better be good, Jude thought.

  However, he was shocked to find Rumor standing on the opposite side of his door.

  “What you doin’ here? Cam sleep,” Jude said in irritation. It was no secret that he didn’t particularly like Rumor. Secretly, he blamed her for Cam’s change in character and even her infidelity. Shit was fine before Rumor brought her snake ass in the picture.

  Rumor shrugged. “Well, that’s fine because I was hoping you’d be the one to help me.”

  3

  A passing car lit up the quiet street, shining light on Rumor’s bruised jaw. Suddenly, Jude felt sympathy towards her. “Do you need me to holla at’cha dude?” He asked, emphasizing the word “holla.” Jude didn’t really know their situation, but he refused to sit back and let the nigga whoop on his girl.

  “Well,” Rumor hesitated. “It’s…it’s a lil’ deeper than that, Jude. And it’s gonna take more than just a conversation to fix this shit.”

  Jude tucked his pistol in the back of his jeans, and pulled his shirt over it before Rumor caught sight of the weapon. “What’chu mean,” he asked, clearly confused.

  Rumor didn’t respond immediately. Instead she turned away and walked towards her candy red 2013 Lexus ISC. Confused, Jude followed her to the back of her car and watched as she popped the trunk.

  “SHIT!” Jude jumped back the moment he saw Calix’s bloody body stuffed inside the trunk. “What the f—what the hell is this shit?!”

  Rumor slammed the trunk close. “Keep your voice down,” she whispered.

  “Yo, I don’t want shit to do with this. You fuckin’ crazy. I always knew somethin’ was up with ya ass,” Jude spat. He was two seconds from grabbing his pistol. Just because Rumor was a woman didn’t mean he wouldn’t put the fire to her ass to protect himself.

  “Look, I’m not fucking stupid,” Rumor said with attitude. “I watch the news, and use my common sense. I know you and your cousin killed that bitch. It was weeks before they found her body so I know you can get rid of one.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout,” Jude said, turning away. “I’ma need you to get ya ass off my property like right now.”

  “Fine. Have it your way,” Rumor said, pulling out her cellphone. “I’ll just call Cameron right now and tell her about Essence.”

  Jude immediately stopped in his tracks. He was positive that he’d take that dirty little secret to his grave. With everything Cam had gone through, finding out about Essence was the last thing she needed.

  Jude swallowed the dry lump that had formed in his throat. “Gon’ head. Tell her whatever the fuck you want. It ain’t like I smashed anyway.”

  “Okay. Have fun convincing your wife that,” Rumor dialed Cameron’s number, and placed the phone against her ear.

  In the blink of an eye, Jude rushed towards Rumor and snatched the cellphone from her hand. “Look, chill! Aight?” he barked. “She already got enough goin’ on. Damn, I’ll help you,” Jude begrudgingly agreed.

  A slow smile spread across Rumor’s full lips. However, what she and Jude didn’t know was that Cameron was watching them talk through the bedroom window. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear what exactly they were speaking on.

  In silence, Cameron watched as Jude climbed in the passenger seat of Rumor’s car before pulling off together.

  Where the hell are they going and why is she with my husband?

  Just the thought of them fucking behind her back made Cameron feel sick to her stomach. All of a sudden, vomit shot up her esophagus! Rushing to the master bathroom, Cam dropped onto her knees and heaved the contents of her stomach inside the toilet bowl.

  After wiping the saliva off her mouth with the back of her hand, Cameron flushed the toilet and rested her head against the seat.

  Lord, please don’t let me be pregnant.

  ***

  “Keep it a hunnid. How you know about me and Essence?”

  Rumor lowered the volume to the music and looked over at Jude. “It’s not like we didn’t work together. Plus, women talk,” she added.

  Rumor said it as if Essence had personally told her about Jude. In all actuality, Rumor had been eavesdropping while Essence spoke to another dancer. Rumor had only caught the tail end of the conversation, but it was still enough to gather her own conclusion. Now she was using the new info to her gain, blackmailing Jude in a sense.

  Noting Jude’s silence, Rumor reached over and touched his left leg. “Cheer up, Jude,” she said, giving it a gentle squeeze. She was overstepping her boundaries and she knew it. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Jude quickly pushed Rumor’s hand away, and looked out the passenger window. He wanted to say a mouthful but decided against it.

  I haven’t even been in the A six months and I’ve already been sucked into the same exact situation twice, Jude thought. Once again he felt like his back was against the wall.

  ***

  “I got some new, fresh blood comin’ in to town,” King told Jude the following afternoon. Together they walked through The Warehouse—a place King used to temporarily store stolen vehicles.

  Beautiful foreign and luxury sports cars from all makes and models surrounded them as they headed to King’s office. After the VINs were changed fraudulent titles were then made. Afterward, the stolen vehicles were transported to Port Elizabeth where they were shipped overseas. King ran a very intricate operation, and he was willing to do whatever it took to maintain his business. That included spilling blood and paying police to look the other way.

  “New blood?” Jude asked in confusion.

  “Yeah, two eager young mufuckas from the east coast lookin’ for work,” King explained. “A few years back I used to fuck with their older brother on the enforcement tip so I know they good peoples.”

  Jude nodded his head in response.

  King must’ve been blind to not notice the newfound tension between both men. At one point he looked at Jude as his own son, buying him a custom BMW 335IS and even the home he and his family lived in.

  Suddenly, King stopped in his tracks. “You feelin’ some type of way still, nigga. I can sense da shit.” His Southern accent was strong.

  Jude narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. It took everything in him not to punch King square in his mouth. Even though he was seething mad about what his boss had done he had no choice but to swallow his pride and finish what they’d started.

  “I ain’t feelin’ no type of way,” Jude assured King. “I’m straight. I can guarantee you that.”

  “So you good?” King asked, needing reconfirmation. His eyes searched Jude’s for the slightest ounce of remorse.

  King could’ve killed Jude without so much as a second thought, but his young protégé was extremely useful to him in business. Not only that, but the doughty twenty-four year old reminded King of himself at that age. That was the primary reason why he wanted Jude to be the one to take over his business one day.

  “I just gotta know, man…why you spare me?” Jude finally asked. “And what makes you think I’m capable of runnin’ ya operation if somethin’ ever happened to you? What makes you think I even want this shit?”

  King paused and ran a hand over his stubble. He looked a lot like California native rapper The Game, and even had the swag to match. Most niggas wouldn’t dare speak to him the way Jude did, but then again none of them were Jude. If everyone went right, he was the one motherfucker that would go left.

  “Aye, you da one, shawty,” King said matter-of-factly. “
You might not want the responsibility now, but I’m positive that if and when the time comes you gon’ be able to handle it.”

  ***

  Toting Justin on her hip, Cameron sifted through the assortment of pregnancy tests inside CVS. She was once again reliving her fear. It seemed like just yesterday she’d found out she was pregnant with Justin. However, this time Cameron was not thrilled with the possibility of giving birth again. With everything going on, she just wasn’t ready to have another child. Not only that, but if she was pregnant then there was a small chance that Jude wouldn’t be the father.

  After picking up a First Response pregnancy test, Cameron hastily purchased the item and rushed home. As she squatted over the test strip she cursed herself for sleeping with O’ Zone unprotected.

  Please don’t let me be pregnant, Cameron prayed before releasing a tiny stream of urine.

  4

  Jaguar Campioni aka “Jag” tightly gripped the steering wheel. He applied light pressure to the brakes as he pulled his silver Porsche Cayman along the highway’s resting area. Drake and Jay Z’s “Pound Cake” bumped through his custom speakers. He and his brother Joaquin had been on the road for five hours, heading to Atlanta, Georgia.

  Unfortunately, things had been rough for the Campioni family after losing their father to a random shooting. Ironically their oldest adopted brother Gambino had died the same way. Both of their killers were never found. Since then Jag and Joaquin had to grow up fast and take on the responsibility of caring for their mother and younger sister.

  Before Gambino was gunned down he worked as a contract killer, trained by the best, their father Matteo. For twenty years Matteo worked as a privately licensed hitman all up until he retired at the age of forty-seven. After that he took on the role of consulting and training others.

  Jag and Joaquin had natural born killer instincts, and were willing to do whatever it took to take care of their family. Jag was the oldest at twenty-two, and the more level-headed of the two. Because of his Sicilian heritage his skin was the color of bronze, and his hair coal black. Most people assumed Jag was either Hispanic or Middle-Eastern because of his features.

  Jag’s wide-eyed gaze was complimented by dark, thick eyelashes, and two dimples rested in the center of each cheek. His eyes were a pale blue like the morning sky. Strangely, he was the only one in his family with the unique eye color.

  All throughout his life, motherfuckers had tried Jag because of his pretty boy looks, and each time he’d proved them wrong.

  Joaquin was two years younger than Jag at twenty. He was the reckless one of the two. He also suffered from a rare split personality disorder that caused him to black out whenever he was enraged. During his blackout he was capable of doing anything which made him hazardous to society. Because of his dangerous outbursts, Joaquin was forced to be home schooled. When Matteo was alive he kept Joaquin’s temper in control for the most part, but after his father died he stopped giving a fuck.

  Joaquin wore his jet black hair tapered with a short spiked Mohawk down the middle. He was tattooed on over 95% percent of his body, but the one that stood out the most was the word “REBEL” tattooed boldly across his neck.

  Jag brought the Porsche to a slow and steady stop before turning off the vehicle. Joaquin grabbed the tightly rolled joint from behind his ear and fired it up. “I take it you needed to stretch them mothafuckin’ stilts, huh?” Joaquin always teased his brother because of his 6”4 stature while he stood at a mere 5”11. Obviously, Jag had taken after their father’s gargantuan height seeing as how Matteo towered over them all at an impressive 6”8.

  “Fuck you,” Jag chuckled. He opened the driver’s door. After sucking in a lungful of fresh air he stretched his limbs.

  Joaquin followed suit as he continuously puffed on his joint. He didn’t give a damn that police stalked the freeway harder than a scorned lover to an ex. “Man, I can’t help feelin’ like we on a damn dummy mission, yo. This shit’s stupid. Why we even doin’ this? It ain’t like we know shit about the South—”

  “Bro, kill that shit,” Jag cut him off. He was tired of Joaquin doubting him and their decision to relocate. “Ain’t shit for us back home.”

  Both brothers worked as street soldiers back in New Brunswick, but the ‘hood had been unnaturally dry lately. The long hours and baby money they made wasn’t worth the hassle or the possibility of getting knocked or worse, ending up dead. Instead of sticking around, they decided to take their talents to the south in hopes of an easy come-up.

  “Yeah, but—“

  “Look, do you trust me or not?” Jag simply asked.

  Joaquin shrugged. “Shit, no doubt,” he answered. It wasn’t like his older brother had ever steered him wrong. “I just hate leaving ma and Alessia alone—”

  “We’ll send for them as soon as we get settled and have a steady income,” Jag promised. “I’m just as apprehensive as you about the shit, but we gotta do what we gotta do, bro. What the fuck we look like sittin’ back watchin’ ma struggle? Gambino’s gone…shit, we gotta hold it down. They’re countin’ on us.”

  Joaquin took another short pull on the joint before putting it out in the center of his palm. He and Jag were all their mother and sister had left. “I just hate feelin’ like I’m leavin’ ‘em just to chase a dream.”

  “There ain’t shit surreal about what we doin’,” Jag corrected him. “We ain’t chasin’ a dream. We chasin’ a reality little bro’.” With that said, he climbed back inside the car.

  ***

  “What you got planned for today?” O’ Zone asked as he pulled on his designer jeans.

  He and Roxie had slept well into the afternoon after a passionate night of “reconciliation sex”. Roxie called it that because whenever they went weeks, or even months, without seeing each other they fucked nonstop to make up for lost time. Whatever frustrations O’ Zone was dealing with, he took out on Roxie’s pussy last night. He pounded into her with such force that she didn’t know whether he loved her or hated her. Roxie had never cum so many times in her life.

  “I gotta go to the—uh,” Roxie caught herself just seconds before she uttered the word ‘clinic’. “Grocery store,” she lied. Roxie couldn’t dare tell O’ Zone that she was possibly carrying a sexually transmitted disease.

  He would flip the fuck out if he knew, she thought. Besides, it’s not like we ever use condoms.

  If Roxie did in fact have a disease then she’d put O’ Zone, and everyone else he’d slept with at risk too.

  O’ Zone took her response to mean that she needed a little paper. Without hesitation, he pulled out a small knot of cash, and thumbed through the band. After peeling off a few Franklins, he tossed them onto Roxie’s plush mattress. The sheets were still stained with their love. After realizing that Roxie might wanna purchase new sheets, he tossed a few more bills on to the bed. Normal women would just wash them, but O’ Zone had her spoiled.

  Roxie looked down at the pile of bills then up at O’ Zone’s face. “What happened to your eye?” she asked in a low tone.

  O’ Zone shrugged nonchalantly. “Some niggas jumped me,” he lied. He was far too embarrassed to admit that he’d gotten his ass whupped in a fair one-on-one fight.

  Roxie frowned, but kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to pry about his private affairs. Although she loved O’ Zone she also understood her role.

  “But I’ma get at the bitch ass nigga that set me up,” O’ Zone promised. “I’ma hit that mufucka right where it hurts. I can guarantee you that.”

  ***

  Cameron’s knees bounced up and down as she nervously waited for a nurse to collect her from the clinic’s waiting room. Elyse was watching Justin for the afternoon so that afforded Cam the solitude she desperately needed.

  Both at-home pregnancy tests she took tested negative, but Cameron wanted to be sure. With everything currently going on in her life she just wasn’t ready to have another child. With Jude transporting for King, he was hardly ever hom
e to help out with the kid they already had. As she sat in the uncomfortably stiff seat, her eyes scanned the room before settling on a pretty dark-skinned chick that favored Rumor. Little did Cameron know she was staring at her little sister—and O’ Zone’s girlfriend. During their brief rendezvous he failed to mention that he had a main.

  Roxie chewed on the tip of a stiletto nail while flipping through an outdated People magazine. Her nerves were a wreck, and her mind was everywhere but on the contents of the magazine. Rumor had promised her little sister that she’d be by her side but there she was waiting alone.

  I should’ve known this bitter bitch wouldn’t stick to her word, Roxie thought. All she wanted was for her sister to forgive her so that they could move on with their lives. But Rumor insisted on being difficult, breaking promises she never intended on keeping.

  Cameron was called back five minutes before Roxie. Coincidentally, they each sat in separate rooms awaiting the results that determined their fates.

  ***

  That afternoon, Jude followed King through his $900,000 yacht. The custom made luxuryyacht was docked, and filled with about thirty people—most of them being employees while the rest were strippers clad in their best dancing entire. Singles littered the floor, and the scene looked like something straight out of a hip-hop music video.

  I like smoking weed, I like getting high…

  I like having sex, I like girls who ride…

  I like my cup full, I like turning up…

  I like brand new shit so this is what I love to do…

  I like that money baby…

  K Camp’s “Money Baby” poured through the yacht’s entertainment system. Only King would be bold enough to throw a party on a yacht in broad daylight. His most private possession came with a fully equipped bar and kitchen, helipad, and private deck for when he wanted some privacy with his wife—or whomever chick he chose to entertain for the night.