Roc reached over and picked up the duffle bag with the neatly wrapped money in it. He passed it over to Ernesto, so that he could check it. They were past the level of counting cash, so Ernesto put the bag into the truck. Either it was all there, or Roc would have another problem on his hands figured Ernesto.
The Feds watched the cameras excitedly as the exchange was made. After the money was secured, Ernesto opened up the hidden compartment, which was concealed by all the produce in the truck. Even though Roc knew the drugs would never hit the street, his eyes still lit up seeing the 20 bricks. It was just something about the way the white powder looked that excited the hell out of him. The allure of the game was intoxicating to Roc and it was going to be hard for him to say goodbye to when finally went in and did his prison time.
“I’m still gonna be the fuckin man when I get done this bid,” thought Roc.
It was crazy that Roc was already thinking about his next run at the drug game, but hustling was all he really knew. He didn’t see any other way to get paid, and living a broke lifestyle was not an option as far as he was concerned. Roc had gotten used to the finer things in life and refused to be without them.
As Roc unloaded the drugs, he sparked more conversation with Ernesto. The Feds wanted details, and the more that Roc provided them with, the lighter his sentence would end up being. Roc was a certified snitch now, so he figured he might as well go all out and be the best informant that he could be.
“So how is Pablo? Where is he staying now?” asked Roc.
The Federal agents listened intently as Roc probed for the information they deemed as very valuable. It would all make for a stronger indictment in their eyes. They damn near had hard-ons waiting for Ernesto’s response about the infamous Pablo. They were hoping that Ernesto would leak something incriminating.
As the 20th kilo was finally unloaded, Ernesto finally responded.
“Pablo have personal message for you.”
The Feds were hype as hell; hanging on to Ernesto’s every word.
“Word? A personal message. What is it?” anxiously asked Roc.
“Pablo say there is no Caesars casino in Virgin Islands,” stoically said Ernesto.
Ernesto was referencing Roc’s last conversation with Pablo, where he lied and said that he had just vacationed in the Virgin Islands. Pablo went there frequently, and he knew there was no Caesars casino. Once Pablo pegged Roc as a liar, it was a bad situation. Roc just looked at Ernesto; both men knew the nature of their transaction had just changed.
Pablo figured that Roc must have had a reason for lying, and suspected that something was afoul. He had sent Ernesto to pick up Roc’s money, but he had also sent him to eliminate Roc. Before Roc could respond and try to cover up his lie, Ernesto had reached for his waistline! He exposed a .38 special and trained the gun on Roc.
With no words, Ernesto sized Roc up, waiting for him to make a move. Ernesto was a hired hitman; and could hit a moving target if he had to. He was one of the most vicious killers from the violent city of Chihuahua, Mexico and was legendary for his murder game. Once he got his target in his sights, it was a wrap!
Since Roc was under federal supervision, he hadn’t been provided a firearm. He was at Ernesto’s mercy and all the Feds could do was watch as their sting went sour.
“Look, amigo. Don’t shoot me. I got a daughter, homie,” surrendered Roc, as he tried to back away from Ernesto.
The pleas didn’t affect Ernesto in the slightest bit. He was a coldhearted assassin, with a job to do. He looked into Roc’s eyes and let off a shot, striking Roc directly in his neck. Blood squirted everywhere as Roc bellowed out in pain. Roc tried to run, but another bullet struck him directly in the chest, dropping him to the ground.
“Damn it! Our informant’s been shot. Send backup and an ambulance over there!” hollered the DEA agent, as he watched the events transpire on the screen.
As Roc lay on the ground leaking blood at an alarming rate, Ernesto hopped back into the big 18 wheeler truck and made a break for it. He wanted to get as far from Philadelphia as quickly as possible. Instantly, the Feds deployed dozens of agents to the scene. What had started off as a drug deal had become a shooting scene. This was definitely not how things were supposed to go down.
In a matter of moments, the Federal agents had tracked Ernesto’s truck and were attempting to pull him over. However, he was not cooperating and was not going down without a fight. Ernesto had started busting shots at the police in the cars that were trying to apprehend him and had turned the I-95 highway into a chaotic scene!
The officers and DEA agents would rather to have captured Ernesto and see if he could be used as an informant to lead to Pablo, but Ernesto wasn’t going for all that. He shot at the police until his clip was empty, which left the officers had no choice but to shoot back at Ernesto. In the end Ernesto took out two DEA agents and wounded another before being shot down behind the wheel of the 18 wheeler and then flipping the vehicle over. He was dead on the scene, and so was the Feds’ investigation. There was no way that they could get back to the infamous Pablo.
Back at the warehouse, Roc was losing blood quickly from the two precise shots that Ernesto had hit him with. Paramedics were on the scene trying to save his life, but their attempts were not going well at all. Roc’s eyes were rolling back into his head and he was gasping for air and convulsing. All Roc could think about was his daughter, Lotta. She was the one thing in the world he had left to care about. Lotta was his pride and joy; the reason that he had even gotten into the game was to provide for her.
As much as Roc tried to fight and live for his daughter Lotta, he couldn’t. The bullets caused too much damage. The paramedics loaded Roc onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, but it was too late. Roc’s had stopped breathing all together. Several attempts to resuscitate him went unsuccessfully. Just like that, Roc was dead.
Chapter 11
Lotta had been in South Carolina for a whole week. Tone’s jailhouse homie had come through on his word in a major way. Once Lotta contacted him on Facebook and told him who she was, the man immediately came through and set Lotta up with a nice little house on the Southside of a city called Anderson. The crib damn sure was no exquisite mansion, but the little two bedroom house was a lot nicer than most of the cribs in Philadelphia.
To make matters even better, the family that Tone’s friend had been renting to had just moved out so the lights and water were still turned on. Lotta would need furniture, but she had a roof over her head and could survive off of Ramen noodles from the store next door if she had to. The only issue that was making Lotta nervous was that she still hadn’t heard from Tone. She had no idea about all the drama going on back in Philly, but after a walk down the street to the library, Lotta was online looking at stories on the Philadelphia Inquirer’s website. The article that she was reading was providing Lotta with the shock of her life.
VIOLENT STRING OF MURDERS SEEM TO BE CONNECTED
Three murders occurring over the span of less than a week have West Philadelphia residents in uproar and demanding some answers. In an ironic twist, the murders all seem to be connected, but authorities cannot be sure exactly how. The first incident involved an altercation outside of the West Philadelphia bar Watusi. A rented Cadillac SRX truck exploded into flames after being shot repeatedly. Bullets apparently hit the fuel pump and gas tank of the car, causing the fatal explosion and killing the driver. Records from Rent-N-Roll confirm that the truck was rented to a man known as ‘Tone’ Black in the previous weeks. His body was burned beyond recognition, but dental records were able to confirm his identity. Eye witnesses tipped police to a suspect in that shooting named Marv Wilson.
Acting on the tip, police searched the residence of Marv Wilson, but discovered him to be already dead from multiple gunshot wounds upon their arrival. Retaliation for the shooting of Tone Black was the initial motive, but this has not been confirmed by authorities. Both men were reputed drug dealers and Tone Black was just r
eturning home after a stint in federal prison in New Jersey.
The third in the string of violent murders occurred in a warehouse in South Philadelphia. In what was also viewed as a drug related crime, the stepbrother of Marv Wilson, known in the streets as ‘Roc’ was also gunned down. Little is known about the circumstances surrounding his murder as police have yet to release details because of a continuing investigation. Anyone with information pertaining to the crimes is urged to contact local authorities.
For a while, all Lotta could do was stare at the computer screen in the library in disbelief and shock. Three short paragraphs represented the death of three men who were all very close to her. It didn’t seem like it was real. How could the lives of the three meant who meant so much to her be summed up in one online article?
Lotta was devastated and couldn’t control the tears that had begun flowing from her eyes. The feeling she had gotten at the bus station was a premonition that something terrible was going to happen, but even in her worst nightmares, Lotta could have never envisioned it would be this bad. Her instincts had told her not to get on the bus, and she started to try and catch up to Tone, but she never made it. Instead, Lotta had come to South Carolina hoping Tone would eventually be there like he had said. The article in the paper ensured Lotta that it wasn’t going to happen, though.
Reading about how her father Roc was killed was also a hard pill to swallow. Lotta didn’t even know Roc had gotten out of prison, so to read that he was killed in an attempted drug transaction was extremely disheartening. She knew deep down that there had to much more to the story, but realized that some questions were meant to be unanswered.
“Why didn’t my Daddy come see if I was OK?” she wondered to herself.
Little did Lotta know, the situation Roc was involved in was a part of his attempt to make sure she was alright. Unfortunately, things just didn’t work out that way. In the game Roc was involved in, things never seem to go as planned. That was just the unavoidable reality.
Finding that Marv was responsible for shooting up Tone’s rental truck was also a shocking revelation. On some levels, Lotta even began to hold herself responsible. If she had never called Tone’s name out during the robbery, Marv would have never known who he was. It was all a just a tragic conclusion to a chapter of Lotta’s life that would shape her forever. She had lost so many loved ones and never got a chance to say goodbye to any of them properly.
More than ever, Lotta felt like she was all alone in the world. She had lost her father, her mother, her uncle, and her boyfriend. At her darkest hour, she had absolutely no one to turn to. Lotta had no idea how she would possibly survive, or even if she wanted to. She felt as if her life was cursed and the longer that she lived, the more misery she would suffer. With a crazed state of emotions running through her, Lotta finally stood up from the library computer and headed back to the house Tone’s friend had let her stay in. She had no idea what to do with her life next, but sometimes answers come from the least expected places.
*****
As usual, Joy was on her phone checking her Facebook page. Despite the traumatic events that she had been through with Marv, she still managed to find time to get her social network on. Her news feed was dead, but a message that had popped up in her inbox from an unknown woman had piqued her interest. Joy quickly opened the message and began reading.
Bitch u don’t know me but I know very well who the fuck u r. In fact I know u so well I saw u runnin out of Marv’s house with that duffle bag. I know that is where he keeps his money because I was fuckin with him too. Way BEFORE u was!!! All I got to say is that’s some foul shit cause now Marv dead and I know that u n that nigga who came runnin out b4 u did it. But trust n believe, you gonna get yours and Ima get mines!!!
Neeta CertifiedBadBytch Malone 5:35 PM
Neeta was the set of eyes that saw Joy running from Marv’s house after he got shot. She had been watching the house out of curiosity to see what new woman Marv was dealing with after breaking up with her. Neeta also wanted to see if Tone ever pulled off his sting, since he never spoke to her anymore after their passionate night together. However, Neeta got much more than she bargained for and ended up witnessing the aftermath of Marv’s murder. She had seen Roc run out of the house, followed by Joy a short time later. Neeta was able to find out who Joy was by asking around the hood and then ironically enough searching for her on Facebook.
Jealously had set in and after Neeta talked with her cousin Chaunte, she decided that she was entitled to some of the stash that Marv left behind. There was no reason Joy should be the lone recipient of the money Marv once had. Neeta figured it was only fair that she get paid too, since she was pregnant! Neeta is 99% sure that Marv is the father, however she did spend that one night with Tone. Although they used protection, condoms are not always completely foolproof. Nevertheless, Neeta is on a mission with her cousin Chaunte to get what she feels as though she is owed by any means necessary.
*****
Pitifully, Lotta strolled back into the house. Her brown eyes were watery and puffy from a constant stream of tears. Memories of her father, Tone, and even her uncle Marv danced around in her head as she thought about better days. Lotta reminisced back to the days when her father provided her with all she ever dreamed of and even the days before when they didn’t have as much, but still had each other. She even thought about the good times she had shared with her wild ass uncle Marv, before things unfortunately turned sour between them.
Most of all though, Lotta thought about Tone. He was the love of her life. Tone was a man she wanted to be with at all costs and even have babies for. She knew that he had a rough exterior and was far from perfect, but deep down, Tone had a good heart. Lotta thought back to the days when she had first given him his half of the ripped dollar and how he had kept it for so long. That was when she saw it.
Sitting on the kitchen counter, all by itself was a ripped dollar. After all Lotta had been through, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Quickly, she reached in back pocket and pulled out half of the ripped dollar. It was a match!
“There is some weird stuff going on in this house,” Lotta thought to herself.
As the front door to the house swung open, all of Lotta’s questions would soon be answered.
“What’s up babe?” said a man’s voice.
Lotta just knew that her mind was playing tricks on her. She had been through a lot and maybe she was losing it, she figured. The voice she heard was Tone’s, but it couldn’t be. She had just read a newspaper article explaining how he had died in a violent shooting and explosion.
Quickly, Lotta ran towards the front door and laid eyes on the man she loved. It was Tone, alive and in the flesh! Lotta’s jaw dropped as she looked at Tone standing in front of her. Then, she ran over to embrace him and convince herself he was real.
“I thought you were dead!” she cried out hysterically.
“I’m sorry ‘bout that,” said Tone.
“But how Tone?” she asked.
Tone went on to explain that he had loaned the Caddy truck to Roscoe. He had let Roscoe down by abandoning him and the best way Tone felt that he could make it up to him was to let Roscoe stunt in the rented vehicle for the night. Unfortunately, it would be Roscoe’s last night on the face of the Earth. Marv shot the truck up and killed Roscoe, thinking that he was shooting at Tone.
Since Roscoe had burned up during the fire from the fuel tank explosion, forensics relied on dental records to identify the body. The dental records came back to Tone from the time that he had taken Roscoe to the dentist and filled out his paperwork for him. In the eyes of the law, Tone was a dead man. In actuality, it was the best possible scenario for him. His probation officer was no longer looking for him, so the Feds were off of Tone’s back.
Tone had a fresh start at life, so he had jumped on a bus, tracked down his homie from prison and got to South Carolina to be with Lotta. The half kilo of cocaine eventually served as the down payment for
Tone to go about buying the house for himself and Lotta. Life wasn’t perfect, and it never is, but Tone and Lotta were going to do their best to enjoy their lives together. They didn’t have much, but they had true love. After all the time that had passed and all that they had been through, they still had each other and they still had their ripped dollars.
THE END
Raymond Francis can be reached at
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Also Available by Raymond Francis
Lefty’s Story
Ripped Dollars
Janaysha’s Story
At Your Best
Last House On the Block
Stick To The Script
Rock ‘em To Sleep
Roses in Concrete
Boulevard Dreams
Truth Hurts Lies Kill
Truth Hurts Lies Kill 2
Truth Hurts Lies Kill 3
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