by Leo Sullivan
With one last hard look at Gunner, she turned on her heels and sashayed away, liberally swaying her hips.
“Yo, King, what’s up with yo’ girl?” Gunner’s nose curled up “Why she lookin’ at me like that?” He took a step closer to me to make sure that he wasn’t overheard. “She got a nigga feelin’ like I need to be explainin’ some shit that I don’t even know ’bout.”
“I think everyone is on edge right now,” I told him with an even tone. “When you bring money into the game, shit begins to change.”
He wagged his head in a sharp nod. “You right ’bout that. Matter of fact, while you was locked out, there was some shit goin’ on that I didn’t like to see. I ain’t gon’ mention it now since we got business to take care of, but I’ll say this…” He took a step even closer. “Even though she held it down while you was locked up, make sure you keep your eyes on ole girl. And, to be honest, I don’t think we need Shotti. Me and you could get this dope on our own. The less people around, the less muthafuckas we have to trust. Especially that one.”
Just in case I wasn’t aware that he was referring to Makita, he cut his head back in the direction that she’d walked when she left and then widened his eyes as he took a few paces back. Just as he’d returned to where he’d been standing before, she came back into the room with her cell phone in hand.
“Shotti should be here any moment. I told him to bring a few duffle bags with him, so he had to stop to pick some up.”
The sound of that seemed to break Gunner out of his serious state, and one edge of his lips hinted at a smile.
“Damn, you hid that much shit? We gon’ need duffle bags for all of it?” he asked.
He was elated. Dressed in a gray Nike jogging suit with black Yeezy sneakers, and his banger stashed in his waistband, he rubbed his hands together, mentally already calculating how much money was about to be made.
16
King
* * *
With a solemn expression on his face, Shotti drove without doing much speaking while Gunner sat in the passenger seat, speaking more than usual. He was almost giddy as he bounced from subject to subject, his excitement about what he thought was our current mission showing all over his face.
I sat in the back, watching everything around me as I mediated on my thoughts. It was in the moments when you were down that you found out who your true friends were. Gunner had been with me during many times when it seemed that we were experiencing our lowest moments, but he’d stuck with me, mainly because he didn’t have any other choice. However, the one time that I was locked up, and he knew that there was money on the table, the true side of him came to the surface. It was hard for me to believe that my own partner since I was a kid would try to rob me.
“Shit been crazy since you been gone, King, but I’m happy that you home. It’s just fucked up because of the circumstances, but I did take money by your mama’s house and made sure our business accounts was straight with the money going to Makita, as you instructed.”
“Yeah, I heard,” I casually said, remembering the look on Gunner’s face when I told him to have Makita handle my money instead of him. He didn’t like bringing her in, but she had a degree in accounting and finance. To me, it made sense.
“I don’t know what she did with that shit once I handed it over to her, but I did what you said,” he added with a hint of disdain in his voice.
“You know why I couldn’t let you handle that much money, Gunner. Makita has a degree for that shit, but that wasn’t the only reason.”
A sheepish expression crossed his face. I could see it through the rearview mirror. A while back, Gunner had a bad addiction to snorting coke and messed up some money while he was dealing with it. The only thing that kept him alive back then was the fact that I considered him a close friend. However, since then, I’d stripped him of dealing with any large amount of money on any level.
“Man, I know where you going with this, and yes, I did fuck up. But as you know, when you got locked up, I had millions stashed too. I still got stacks saved, maybe not as much as you, but I have some. Yeah, when you first went away, I relapsed for a little while, but I came back from that. Since you’ve been gone, I followed your lead, bought real estate, invested in stocks, and opened a few businesses—cleaning services run by some hard-working Mexican chicks. I got my own fuckin’ money, King. You know that.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” was all I said as we turned off highway 1-85 onto Georgia 400.
Suddenly, Gunner turned to Shotti and said facetiously, “Damn, nigga, you look like you headed to a funeral instead of to pick up a thousand kilos of coke. Why you look so serious and shit?”
Caught off guard by his question, Shotti chuckled. “Nah, nigga, I’m excited, but it’s just so much shit going on.”
“Yeah, I feel you,” Gunner said, staring intensely at him. Then he turned and looked out the window at the landscape around us.
“Man, where the fuck y’all taking me?” Gunner asked. His hand moved to his side like he was removing his banger from his waist.
Shotti cut his neck toward him, also catching the move.
“Chill, nigga!” His tone was elevated. “Why you pulling out your strap?”
“’Cause I don’t like the vibe in here. You all quiet and shit, plus you driving all the way to Cummings. Ain’t no niggas livin’ out here.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I snorted air out of my nostrils in somewhat of a suppressed chuckle. He was right about that.
“That’s right,” I told him. “That’s what makes this the perfect spot to stash some shit.”
It made sense, but Gunner wasn’t feeling it. His sixth sense had picked up on a different vibe, and he wasn’t letting it go.
“Turn around! Take me back!”
“Don’t aim that fuckin’ pistol at me!” Shotti yelled, taking his eyes off the road.
The car slightly swerved just as we passed a state trooper in the next lane. Shotti was only slightly speeding, doing about seventy miles an hour in a sixty-five. We didn’t see the state trooper at first because it was on the other side of an eighteen-wheeler, but I saw him the second that he slid into our lane and started to drive behind us.
“Fuck!” Shotti cursed under his breath.
“Just drive the speed limit,” I said, fighting the urge to turn around and look out the back window. If the cop saw it, that would have been a sure sign to pull us over.
“Man, we don’t need to get pulled,” Gunner said, slapping the barrel of the gun into the palm of his other hand.
“Put up that gotdamn gun, nigga,” Shotti demanded through clenched teeth.
“I am.”
“Man, not under the seat! The fuck wrong with you?” Shotti screeched.
Frowning, Gunner lifted his hands and shrugged. “What you mean? This shit is hot; it has a body on it. I can’t keep it on me.”
“You sho-n-da-fuck ain’t finna stash that shit in my whip and get me a case if we get pulled. Nigga, put that shit in your draws and get out and RUN if shit pop off!”
“Y’all, chill,” I calmly said, but inside, I was worried as fuck.
I knew if we got pulled, it would be a wrap for me. The end of the road, possibly, if things didn’t end well. They were talking about a hot gun, but there was a real possibility that as soon as this cop saw my face, I’d be gifted with a bullet between the eyes.
Chirp! Chirp!
My heart sank to my feet. Instinctively, my hand went to the gun that I had stashed on me. I took it out and tucked it under my leg as my heart raced in my chest.
“Fuck! What we gon’ do now?” Shotti asked, looking at me for help.
“You got your license on you?”
“Yeah,” he responded and stared out the rearview mirror.
I noticed him fumbling with something and glanced in his direction. It was the pistol I gave him before we left Makita’s. For a moment, as I saw the jittery state that he was in, I regretted giving it to him
. Shotti looked like he was about to lose his mind. Then again, he had good reason for it.
Georgia State Troopers were notoriously racist and aggressive rednecks with an attitude. Knowing that, my first instinct was to just shoot him in the face as soon as he stuck his head in the window, but my better judgement told me not to. I would just have to play it by ear.
The cop walked up; he had a potbelly with a huge, five-gallon hat on his head. He wore a shit-colored uniform with mirror shades. His face was snow white, but his cheeks were rosy red. There was a wad of tobacco in his mouth that he chewed obnoxiously with his mouth wide open.
Sitting up straight in his seat, Shotti let the window down halfway. “Can I help you, Officer?”
“Yep,” he replied with a country boy twang. “Let that window down some more, so I can see who’s inside.”
“Yes, sir.”
Shotti complied and rolled down the window.
“Let me see your license and registration,” the cop said and held onto his hat as a large truck passed along with other vehicles.
“Yes, sir.”
The cop looked at Shotti’s license and registration then stuck his head back in the window, scrolling his eyes first to Gunner and then to me.
“I’ma need to see some ID from you boys. Y’all live around here?”
I didn’t answer; I was prepared to shoot when and if the moment came to that.
Gunner started to talk with the cop as he passed him his ID.
“I’ll need yours, too.”
“I left my wallet,” I explained. “But my name is Tony Blackman.”
The trooper gave me a hard look, as if he didn’t quite believe my story, but then shrugged before walking back to his patrol car to run a check on our names.
It felt like he was gone forever before he finally returned. He passed the IDs over to Shotti.
“I’m not going to give you a ticket for speeding, and since all you boys’ IDs and names check out, I’ma let you go this time. Have a nice day,” he said and tipped his hat.
Frozen with shock and relief, none of us moved until the trooper was back in his car and had pulled off, driving back into traffic. As he drove off, I couldn’t help but feel depleted, even fatigued. Since making it out of prison, I had experienced more drama than most people experienced in several lifetimes, and things were just getting started.
“This is the area right here,” I said as we pulled into Lake Ellijay.
It was a dense forest of jungle, water, and wildlife for miles and miles as far as the eye could see, with so much foliage and masses of land it wasn’t uncommon for people to get lost for days in the vastness.
“Man, this don’t look right!” Gunner exclaimed as soon as we got out of the car.
“It’s not supposed to.”
“Ain’t we gon’ need some shovels or something to dig with?” Gunner asked as he walked through the thick bush of the forest, looking around suspiciously.
I quickly gave Shotti the signal to shoot him as soon as we neared a big tree. Overhead, a flock of geese flew, making all types of noise just as Shotti pulled out his pistol and hesitated. That was all it took for Gunner to pounce on him with surprising quickness.
Blocka!
One lone shot rang out, causing more birds to take flight for the skies. At first, I didn’t even know who was shot or where until I heard Gunner groaning in agony.
“Ohhh, shit, this nigga shot me!” he shouted as they tussled and fell to the ground.
Gunner had been shot in the neck. Blood gushed all over the forest floor, but he managed to scramble on top of Shotti and punched him several good times.
“Help me, King. This nigga crazy. He shot me!” Gunner yelled.
By then, he was whooping Shotti’s ass with overhand rights, uppercuts, and knees to his nuts. Gunner had managed to pull Shotti’s shirt over his head and began to beat his ass even more. Then he wrestled the gun from his hand and stood. I couldn’t help but reflect on what my mama used to say.
“A scared man will kill you.”
Gunner was living proof of that; he was scared, and he was fighting for his life while bloody as a tampon.
He stood on wobbly legs as blood poured from his neck like an open fire hydrant in the summertime.
“Man, what da fuck is goin’ on?” He staggered.
“You, Gunner. You set me up, got me sent to prison in the first place. You had me framed and plotted on the dope that I got stashed from the Colombians. That is what got you trapped right now. Greed.”
As I talked, Shotti sat up. He was still punch drunk and leaking from both his mouth and nose.
“Nigga, is you crazy? You like a fuckin’ brotha to me. We slept in the some fuckin’ pissy bed, was hungry, and used to steal out of stores just to eat! Yeah, I fucked up, but I took care of your mama while you was gone and made sure Nikki was straight too. Now you tryin’ to say I betrayed you for money? I made millions right along with you, and you know it,” Gunner said with a stricken face as tears fell from his eyes.
His voice was guttural and strained as I looked down at him. He was on the brink of death as blood continued to pour from the gunshot wound in his neck. Pathetically, he began to sob even harder.
“You gotta get me to a hospital or I’ma die… Man, I’ma bleed to death if you don’t help me. Please.”
The entire right side of his sweat-suit was wet as he began to rock back and forth, like he was fighting the torment of dying and demise as he held the gun in his hand.
I took out my pistol and held it at my side. I can’t even lie; I felt a pang of hurt in my heart. Gunner was like a brother to me, but I had to do what needed to be done.
“I’ma have to lie you down right here and send you into the next life. This life ain’t meant for both of us. This is the end of the road for you—for us. Don’t make this difficult,” I said and then aimed the gun at his forehead.
In a flash, Gunner came up with his weapon and closed his eyes before squeezing the trigger several times…
Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
“It’s empty,” I said, solemnly.
Stepping back, I watched him stagger as he looked at me with blood gushing from his neck. Then he looked at the gun in his hand and frowned. His free hand moved to his neck, an attempt to stop the bleeding. The bleeding seemed to worsen as blood spewed through his fingers.
Suddenly, he fell to his knees and I walked over, placing the gun to his forehead.
“Man, you making a big mistake. I would never betray you! Please, don’t kill me. Help me, I need to go to the hospital. You gon’ regret this one day if Shotti and that lyin’ bitch told you that I betrayed you.”
“Okay, I’ll help you,” I said, finally.
He looked up at me and his expression hinted at relief. Without hesitation, I shot him in the head, point blank. One shot blew his brains out on the forest floor.
He keeled over landing on his back with one of his legs awkwardly twisted underneath his body. I stood there in a daze; it felt like I had lost a piece of my soul. Gunner’s eyes were stretched wide, staring at his next destiny.
“Man, you did what you had to do,” Shotti said, using his shirt to wipe the blood from his face. “That nigga probably was always plotting on you. Fuck him! He lucky my finger’s fucked up or I would have beat his skinny ass.”
I wasn’t buying it. Shotti was a coward and the more time that passed, the more I realized it.
“Shut up! Let’s bury his body under these leaves and go!”
17
Sunday
* * *
“Who is supposed to pick you up?”
I looked up into the gentle and kind face of Ms. Beatrice, the nurse that I’d come to regard as family in such a short amount of time. She’d been instrumental in making sure that I was comfortable every time I came to visit Katie and even bent the rules a couple times to ensure that I could be with my daughter as much as possible.
“My fian—” I stopp
ed short of calling Caesar my fiancé and sucked in a sharp breath. “I mean, her dad.”
Ms. Beatrice’s lips pursed into a straight line before she nodded her head.
“Well, there is no rush, as you know. I was able to get you into a vacant room where you and Katie can stay until he arrives. We don’t have any additional mothers expected to come in to deliver today. However, as you know, things can happen unexpectedly, so I’ll let you know if we end up needing the room.”
Nodding, I hugged Katie to my chest and kissed the top of her forehead. I heard what she was saying, and I saw the worry lines in her forehead, but I was determined not to allow anything to steal my joy.
Today was a huge day.
After being in the hospital for so long, Katie was finally able to come home. She was still so small, but there was really no reason to keep her. She’d made a miraculous recovery after her near-tragic entrance into the world. Although she still hadn’t passed any of the hearing screens, and I knew that I would have to work with a specialist to address the concerns around that, she was perfectly healthy otherwise and breathing on her own.
The hospital had a rule that once a newborn was released from the hospital, a member of the staff had to check the car seat before they were able to leave with the baby. For that reason, I’d asked Caesar to pick us up and he’d agreed to borrow his friend’s car so that he could. He also told me that he would buy the car seat and install it prior to arriving, which brought me a little bit of joy that he was finally seeming to involve himself when it came to our daughter. However, it was now three hours after the time when he was supposed to be there, and he still hadn’t arrived.
“Caesar, it’s me, again,” I said with tears in my eyes as I left yet another message on his voicemail. “Katie and I are still waiting for you. They have us in a room, but if you don’t come before they need it back, they’ll put her back in the NICU and I might not be able to take her home. Please, call me.”
Hanging up the line, the thought of calling King came to mind but I quickly brushed it away. He was a wanted man and, after the police received a tip that he was still in the city, they’d been scouring the area like crazy. I no longer picked up on him watching me walk back and forth from the bus stop each day to visit Katie so I was sure that he knew they were on to him; might even have thought that I was the one who called them since the tip came in after the day that I caught him watching.