by Tiana Laveen
She smiled at the photos of a few of her girlfriends dressed to the nines, the pictures of them dancing in the Studio Paris Nightclub and the Drop, places she also loved to stop in and listen to music, get a drink with her girls, and take half drunken selfies. Her smile slowly dissipated when she clicked on her friend Denise’s profile. The woman had Tiffany’s photo as her profile picture with the words ‘Find my girl, Tiffany. Bring her home’ printed at the bottom. Quickly clicking away from her image, she perused other pages until she landed on Cora’s. Her status update of the previous day stated: Guys, Mama doesn’t have much longer. Praying to God she makes it through the night. Below it was a photo of Aunt Shirley in the hospital, her eyes closed, a million tubes running in and out of her body and a look of distress on her face.
“Phoooenix!” she hollered, getting to her feet and almost falling over as she raced about trying to find him. “Phoenix!” She burst into his office to find him looking pissed. He quickly slammed his phone down.
“Tiffany, I was on the phone with someone from the DEA office! You can’t—”
“My aunt Shirley is sick,” she stated breathlessly, trying to keep it together but failing miserably. “I just saw it mentioned online. I called the hospital and sure enough, she’s there in ICU. I have to go back and see her, Phoenix. She’s dying.”
“Tiffany.” He leaned back in his seat, running a hand down his face. He looked tired. “Baby I’m sorry about your aunt, but that’s not going to be possible. You know it’s not safe for you to be in Chicago right now.”
“Phoenix, please!” She stood before him and banged her fist on his desk. “I need you to get me there as soon as possible. I won’t stay long, I promise, just an hour or two, but I need to go. The woman was like a second mother to me.”
“Can you hear yourself?” He opened his arms, palms up. “Do you truly understand what you’re asking me to do? The answer is no.” He shook his head. “It’s far too risky.”
“That’s a chance I’ll take,” she said, resolute. They must’ve glared at each other for an eternity before the man sighed and leaned forward to stare down at his desk.
“Either you can figure out how to get me there or I’ll find someone who will. In any case, I’m going.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Grabbing his phone from the desk, he sat back and closed his eyes as if damn near exhausted. She turned around and made for the door.
“Tiffany…”
“Yes?” She paused and looked over her shoulder at him, waiting for the man to pull the rug out from under her, to tell her he changed his mind in a matter of seconds.
“I’m going to call in a favor to get you there, so you can see her alone. You’ll have thirty minutes, and not a second more. Do you understand me?” His blue eyes turned to slits.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.” As she walked over the threshold, she heard him begin to speak on the phone.
“Sorry to call you so late, Gerald, but I have a friend who needs your services. I’m planning a quick trip and need some backup down in Chicago…”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Phoenix understood the importance of family. He understood loyalty, no matter how others might not have comprehended such a bond.
“Higher,” he instructed. He stood by her side, his arms crossed and the bullseye in front of them. Tiffany unleashed a series of shots, one after the other, her body holding firm and steady, and her finger wrapped around the trigger of his M1911A1 handgun. “That’s better.” Squinting to take a good look at the holes in the red and white target, he noted her improvement over the course of a few hours.
“I told you I knew how to shoot a gun, Phoenix,” she stated breathlessly, lowering the thing to her side. Her hair was pulled back in a thick ponytail, and her off the shoulder cream sweater looked sexy against her skin. “You know that I do. This is a waste of both our time.”
“No, it’s not. If you’re taking your ass to Chicago against my wishes, then you’re going to know how to not only aim, but to fire better, too. You know the basics, but sometimes that’s not good enough. Keep practicing.” He stood a couple of feet back from her and watched her work.
You’re a good shot, baby. Great posture, cool under pressure, but I have to have peace of mind. I can’t take you into enemy territory without protecting you to the best of my ability. You’re not in Kansas anymore…
…The next day
It had been a few years since he’d flown a twin-engine Cessna 340. He’d called in one of many favors and gotten his hands on the tiny motherfucker; it was rocky and grated his nerves but it proved their best bet to slide into Chicago without being detected. Tiffany barely said a word after they’d landed, but he could almost hear her heartbeat beating out of her chest when her feet touched on familiar soil. Chicago was her playground, her comfort zone, all that she knew, and here she’d returned to her sprawling jungle under some of the worst of circumstances possible.
He called an Uber and they were escorted to the rental car facility. Having her stay in the background, her attire baggy and unflattering and her wig in place, he filled out the paperwork, got the keys, and headed to Northwestern Memorial Hospital.
“Are you all right?” His voice came out gruff, as if he’d just awoken. After all, he’d been silent for so long, holding back words that were better left unsaid.
“Yeah.” She looked straight ahead, playing the role of a strong woman but inside, he knew she was falling apart. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go over the run down one more time. Repeat it to me.”
On a sigh, she began, “Enter the hospital from the west wing, take the elevator up to floor 4, walk two flights up in the stairwell. You will be at the end of the hall but within hearing distance. Aunt Shirley is in room 421. She will be asleep, her medicine given by her nurse at 6:00 P.M. to cause her to nod off. I have twenty-five minutes to visit and five minutes to be back down in the hospital lobby. You will pull up, then we will drive to the airport and fly the commuter plane back to Washington.”
“Okay, good. Now where’s your new license I gave you?”
“I have my new I.D. in my purse.” She glanced down at the small leather bag on her lap and looked out the window.
“Perfect. Let’s go.” Moments later, he pulled up in front of the hospital and she made haste to get out of the car. As she took anxious steps, her coat swinging about, a slight drizzle began to fall.
“Tiff!” he called out.
She turned and looked at him, fear, anger, and sorrow dancing in those beautiful, dark brown eyes.
“Be careful, all right?”
She nodded and rushed inside. As soon as he saw her enter, he made a beeline for the parking garage, then hightailed it inside to stand post…
She wished she couldn’t hear herself breathing…
It had become distracting as she made her way up the staircase. Phoenix had relayed Aunt Shirley’s schedule, as well as given her information about the usual visiting hours to make sure no one would be in the woman’s quarters at that time. Her children, according to him, had visited earlier in the day, and they tended to keep the same, exact routine each visit. As she neared the room, she slowed and paused in surprise. There, at the end of the hall, stood Phoenix. She smiled. How had he beaten her inside? He sat down in a chair, his phone in one hand and a cup in the other.
He even had time to get a coffee…
Soon, she stood outside the woman’s hospital room. On a sigh, she entered to a dark room. Getting close to the bed, she glanced at the woman, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. Tiffany walked over to the vast window. Pushing the curtains aside, she took in the night scene. Millions of lights shimmered and glowed. Her reflection stared back at her from the glass.
Turning her back on the city, she took a seat. Aunt Shirley’s skin looked smooth and creamy like peanut butter, not a wrinkle or blemish in sight. The lady’s lips were full, plush, the center of them darker than
the rest from years of cigarette smoking. Her thinning gray and brown hair was brushed away from her face, a small gold hair clip holding it in place. Taking her aunt’s hand, she patted and rubbed it.
“Aunt Shirley,” she stated quietly. “It’s me, Tiffany. I had to come and see you. I … I am doing okay. As I’m sure you know, things have been pretty messed up. Gable and I got into a bit of trouble.” She swallowed. “I hope and pray we can get it worked out. You know, my mama, your sister, always told me, ‘Every dog has their day.’” She chuckled sadly. “I guess I didn’t realize she was sometimes talking about me.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I know life wasn’t easy for you, Auntie. I know you did what you had to do sometimes just to make ends meet. I never judged you then, and I damn sure won’t judge you now. You helped to make me strong when I didn’t even know I could stand up on my own two feet.” A slow tear trailed down her cheek.
“I can’t stay long, but … I’m glad I came. And I know you can hear me. I’m going to make something of myself, okay? I know I’m not eighteen and full of promise anymore, but I still have a lot of life to live … if I’m lucky enough to get a second chance. I know that’s what you wanted for me and Gable, for all of your children. You and Mama bumped heads, but you both had a strong love for me. I want to thank you for giving me room to grow, and teaching me how to survive, believe in myself. I owe my sense of self, my pride to you. Yeah, that was all your doing. You taught me my cultural history … the kings and queens of Africa. You were the first to explain that we could’ve come from royalty, so why shouldn’t we still look the part?” She laughed lightly when the warm memories flooded her.
“Some might not have agreed with your methods for teaching a lesson or two, but there was a madness to them, wasn’t there? I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Tiffany leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek. The lady’s eyelids fluttered and then relaxed, causing her to smile. Snatching a tissue out of a nearby Kleenex box, she dabbed at her eyes. She looked over at the clock in the room and noted she’d been there for twenty-two minutes. It seemed like it hadn’t been more than five. Getting to her feet, she walked back over to the hospital window and placed her forearms and palms against the glass. The entire city was alive, pulling on her heartstrings.
I better get going…
Walking back over to Aunt Shirley, she squeezed her hand.
“Black Butterflies and red roses, Aunt Shirley. As you used to say to me, ‘Fly away to your dreams and do what you like, baby.’ I love you.”
She blew her a kiss and stepped out of the hospital room. When she looked down the hall, Phoenix was still there. He didn’t look at her, but he rose to his feet, snapped his fingers, and made his way to the elevator. She was to take the steps down and meet him out front. Filled with relief, she made the trek down the first flight of stairs. Her steps echoed against the iron, and with each one a piece of her died, knowing it would be the last time she’d ever see Aunt Shirley. As she made it to the first floor, she paused.
What was that?
Footsteps approached, but she couldn’t make out from which direction. On a swallow, she hastened her pace towards the stairway exit. As she swung open the door to escape, there stood a tall figure dressed in black donning a ski mask. She opened her mouth to scream but was met with a sharp elbow to her teeth. Her mouth filled with blood as she fell to the ground. A gruff, male voice spoke through the woolen face mask. He hovered over her, looking down at her as if she were some little puppy, and her heart pounded in her chest as her mind scrambled to make it out of this shit alive.
“You miss me, you bougie, fake ass bitch?”
His black eyes and a bit of his dark brown skin were visible through the open eye area.
“You look like a fuckin’ sock puppet. How could I?” Her eyes narrowed as a trickle of blood creeped down her chin.
“I see you still like to talk shit.” He chuckled. “Since you like to open your mouth so damn much, I’mma let you see what this gun taste like.” Her eyes darted to the handle of the pistol sticking out the front of his pants. Grabbing hold of it, he inched closer to her. “It’s Tiffany Mothafuckin’ McCall in the goddamn flesh! I didn’t think you’d come back out of hiding, but they said you would come back for ol’ Shirley to pay your final respects. Look at you, in basic bitch mode, right? Lookin’ all ordinary ’nd shit.” Spitting out a wad of spit mixed with blood, she pulled herself up a little and met the man’s gaze.
“Coward. Take off your mask and let me see who you are.” The man ripped the damn thing off, exposing a scar on his left cheek and a diamond stud in his right ear. “Fox.”
“Yup, it’s me, baby.” He sneered as he stooped low, getting into her personal space. Fox was a Gangster Disciple, a bastard who’d made it clear that he was interested in her. At least seven years her junior, he had the body of a god, but he was a complete basket case and not the least bit her type. She’d let him down easy, but being who he was, he didn’t appreciate the rejection and on several occasions, he’d let her know she’d missed out.
This is who they send to get me? Shit!
“So, baby, you know Gable already cried like uh bitch and we know every damn thang. He told us everything ’bout you, on the phone bawlin’ his eyes out, talkin’ about it was all your idea. I knew that mothafucka was a simp!” He shoved a pistol in her face, then traced her cheek with the butt of the gun. “You been real busy, huh?” He dropped his gaze to her breasts, covered by the over-sized black T-shirt to hide her figure. “What tha fuck you got on?” He chuckled as he regarded her wig. “Don’t matter. We’d know you a mile away. Nobody got a walk like Tiffany McCall … sexy mothafucka. Shoulda gave me some pussy when I asked for it; maybe I wouldn’t enjoy this so goddamn much…” He laughed garishly, then drew disturbingly serious.
“If you’re going to shoot, then shoot me, bitch.” Cocking his head to the side as if in shock, he raised his arm high and swiped at her face, ready to deliver an almighty pistol whip, but she swayed and ducked in the nick of time. “Fox, go ahead and shoot me in this damn hospital!” She crawled backwards until her back was forced against the wall. “They can take me right down to the morgue when you’re through.”
Before he could reply, the stairwell door swung open, startling both of them. She covered her mouth with both hands to swallow her scream when Phoenix burst in like the rotating Earth, roaring wind, and dragon spewed fire. Like an eagle diving down low from the sky, he dropped behind Fox, reached for the gun in the man’s hand, and had it fly out of his grasp. The weapon crashed to the ground, prompting Tiffany to hurry onto her feet and snatch it up in her grip. She looked in horror as Phoenix and the big bastard struggled until Phoenix wrapped a thick, black string around his neck and pulled hard, choking Fox and cutting off the fucker’s air.
The man’s eyes grew large as he gasped, his arms waving in front of him like Frankenstein, tongue showing from his wide-open mouth. Tiffany raced forward, reared her arm upward and slammed the handle of the gun as hard as she could onto the side of Fox’s head, drawing blood. Phoenix then shoved the man to the ground and got back to his feet. Seizing the gun out of her hand, he shoved it in his pocket.
Grabbing her arm, he moved fast, dragging her with him. She held his hand tight.
“There’s three of them outside, one by the front door. They’re crawling everywhere,” he said in a calm but urgent tone.
“Shit! How are we getting out of here?”
“Just stay close to me.” Pulling her aside, he held her near, their chests almost touching. Eyes glued to hers, he slid her favorite weapon, a Glock 22, under her shirt. After planting a hard kiss on his lips, she held his hand and followed him as he moved ahead of her, all the while scoping out their surroundings. As they approached the door, she spotted Purp, another Disciple, standing wide-legged with hands held in front of him by the exit, blocking it. Hate filled his eyes at the sight of her and Phoenix. She wanted to scream, shoot, kill … but Phoeni
x kept her shielded.
“You think this white Wonder Bread mothafucka can help you?” he asked calmly as he pulled up his shirt and exposed his gun. “Who is this? A hospital cafeteria security guard? He servin’ lunch?” he sneered.
“Today’s special is bullet bread. Catch ’em and tell me how you like it.”
Suddenly, Purp’s body jumped as if he’d been hit with a wave of electricity, and then she saw blood flowing from his stomach. Phoenix marched on, keeping his attention straight ahead, as if he’d seen or done nothing at all. Screams could be heard behind them as they exited the hospital. She quickly glanced back to get a glimpse of Purp’s body convulsing on the ground.
“Oh no … no!” she screamed when she recognized several Disciples.
Letting go of her, Phoenix produced two guns and lit up the night sky with blazing flashes and the loud, repeated cracking of gunfire. The shrill screams and hollers from people all around was deafening and the odor of gun smoke filled the air. Stepping beside him, she fired several shots at Kodak, one of the Disciples who was shooting in their direction. Her adrenaline kicked in overdrive, she just kept blasting until she spent a bullet into his shoulder and neck, forcing him to fall back and slump to the ground.
Phoenix grabbed her around her waist, lifted her up with one arm, and kept shooting at several Disciples with the other. His steps were quick, but not rapid—an even, purposeful pace. Before she could take the next breath, she was inside the car, her seat reclined all the way back as he raced through the parking lot like a madman. She lay flat on her back, the gunfire still blazing as he shot bullets out of a rolled down window.
“The tire is going to be bald and flat in less than 2 minutes. They shot it out.” He rolled the window up and grabbed his phone as he drove onto the street, his foot on the accelerator.