by T. Styles
Years had passed and the only thing that changed in Kerrick’s life was that he was now a father.
He wasn’t worried about rushing. He knew that in time his plan would come together. Besides, under Kerrick’s supervision, Yori’s crew had grown very profitable. More dope flooded the blocks and they needed more soldiers to work them. On the streets, they were calling Kerrick Mr. Profit.
On the low Yori rewarded Kerrick for managing the men by giving him a few more points on the package. But Kerrick wanted what he always wanted, to meet the real boss in person. Every other day Yori would promise a meeting but every time the day came he would make excuses or be nowhere to be found. Kerrick was getting frustrated and it took everything he had not to attack.
Truth be told, Yori had no intention on connecting Kerrick with Abraham. Why would he? In the Boss’s eyes, Yori was doing a good job and he loved the extra attention. He knew that if Abraham caught wind that Kerrick was responsible for the economic growth, he would be reporting to Kerrick instead of the other way around.
Even Jameson talked to Kerrick about the matter over drinks. As time went by, he and Jameson had gotten closer. Their bond was solidified when he learned that Jameson’s family was from Nigeria. Before long, Jameson had not only become a co-worker but a close friend.
When Kerrick expressed how Yori was playing him soft, Jameson suggested he not work so hard for him anymore. He said to let the operation fall so that Yori would have to keep his promise to set up the meeting. But the worker in Kerrick couldn’t see slacking. Instead, with each passing day he grew bitter, until he had so much hate in his heart for Yori that it bubbled to the surface and showed in his attitude.
He was standing on the block considering the many ways he wanted to crush Yori when Francesca stomped up the block. She had been blowing up his phone for two months straight but he never returned her calls. She decided she wasn’t going to wait anymore and took things into her own hands.
Kerrick wasn’t trying to ignore her on purpose. He didn’t care about the drug addicted bitch either which way. Besides, after getting off the block he would go home to his wife and help care for their baby so that she would have a break. But Fran didn’t want to hear it. All she knew was that she wanted him to spend more time with her.
Kerrick was from Africa, where women stayed in their place, and he didn’t see why now should be any different. That went for his wife too. The last time Victoria talked slick after an argument, he put her out of her own house for a month. And she was seven months pregnant at the time.
When Fran walked up on him, he was disgusted. Ever since he turned her back on heroin, her body was frail and her clothes were not as fresh as they usually were. Had it not been for her wet mouth and tight asshole he would’ve left her a long time ago. But he needed someone to take his sexual aggression out on when things got rough, and Francesca was it.
Fran stuffed her hands in her jacket and said, “Can you please tell me why—”
Her words were halted when Kerrick gripped her by the neck and escorted her to the alley for a little privacy. With her oxygen supply cut off, Francesca’s face turned beet red until he released her. Grateful she didn’t die, she dropped to her knees and tried to breathe.
He remained unsympathetic as he looked down on her with disdain. “Fuck are you doing around here, Fran?”
She hacked a few times to clear her passageway. When she was getting a little air into her lungs she stood up, leaned against the wall and looked at him with trepidation. “Why haven’t you called me?” She asked although the only thing she wanted to do now was run home. She stayed so high that she forgot what kind of monster he could be but now it was too late.
“Because I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“But I have something important to tell you, Damien.”
“What…is…it?” he asked slowly. “And make it quick.”
She placed her hand on her lower stomach and said, “I’m pregnant.”
A dark cloud seemed to hover over Kerrick’s head upon hearing the news. He moved closer to her and she walked backwards into the brick wall, where she couldn’t move. “What do you mean you’re pregnant? You told me you were on the pill.”
“I know, baby. But I…I must’ve missed a day.”
She was a liar and he knew it. She would do all she could to have a child by him if it meant keeping him in her life. “You think I’m stupid? Huh? You had to have missed more than one day taking the pill to get pregnant, Fran.”
“One or two…it doesn’t—”
Kerrick removed a switchblade from his pocket, hit the button and entered her abdomen swiftly. He kept it in place as Fran wiggled to the ground. Her eyes were as wide as she fell. She couldn’t believe the man she loved would want to take her life. As he kept the blade in place, Kerrick looked over his shoulder to see who was watching. The block was clear so he was good.
When he was satisfied the damage was done, he removed the blade, wiped it on her jacket and stood up. “You can’t have a baby by me, Fran,” he said coldly. “I’m sorry.”
****
Francesca lay in the bed as the hospital machines beeped softly around her. She had spent two days recovering from surgery, only for the doctor to tell her what she never wanted to hear as a woman. That she lost her baby and could never have another. The blade Kerrick pressed into her abdomen had successfully pierced her uterus and now she was barren.
She turned her head toward the open window and silently wished for death. Daylight spilled inside and burned her eyes but she didn’t look away. Tears cruised down her face and dampened the pillow behind her head. All she wanted was a hit. To get high and forget about everything.
Prior to meeting Kerrick, she had a life and friends. It may not have been the best life but it was hers, free of drugs and violence. But now nobody dealt with her because all she wanted to talk about was how much she loved Kerrick. She was boring. Her buddies got tired of that shit and left her alone.
After tiring of staring out the window, she turned her head in the opposite direction and Kerrick was standing in the doorway. Worried he was coming back to finish her off, she sat up in the bed to press the nurse’s button but he stopped her.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said calmly, as he touched her hand. He was holding a single red rose, which he laid in her lap. “How do you feel?”
Her voice quivered. “You ruined my life, Damien. And then you come in here and ask me how I feel?”
“I’m a married man, Francesca,” he said calmly. “And you could never have a child by me. I told you that. It was one of my rules. Remember?”
“But if you didn’t want me I could’ve been with someone else!” she yelled. “I could’ve had a family of my own! Now, because of you, I can’t have kids. I could’ve died!”
“Francesca, you would not have died. I have gutted many women like that and they have all survived after losing their babies. I’m a surgeon in that regard. I pierced you exactly where I needed to. Directly in your uterus. And as far as you having children of your own, I need to be clear. You will never have another man outside of me,” he said seriously. “I’m the last man you will ever be with so get used to it.”
Fear enveloped her. “What…what do you mean?”
“I was clear. You and I both know that.”
She sobbed uncontrollably. “What makes you think I’m going to be with you after what you’ve done? Huh? What makes you think I won’t move far away if I must just to get away from you?”
“Because you’re an addict,” he placed a tuft of her hair behind her ear. “And you will always be an addict. I’m the only one in this world who will give you a free supply. And, if you ever get clean and try to leave me, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
“But why won’t you just let me go if you don’t love me and won’t make me your wife?”
“Love is so overrated. What you and I have is better. It’s an arrangement.” He walked to the head of the bed
and kissed her on the forehead. “Now, get well. I hate hospitals. They’re always so cold.”
CHAPTER 8
1981
5 YEARS LATER
“There is something in the wind.”
-William Shakespeare
It seemed like the more things changed, the more they stayed the same in Kerrick’s life. After five years, he had five children, a house and no more power on the streets. His commitment to being a great employee crippled him, and forced him to remain under Yori’s command. Although he had gotten more money and a little more control over the soldiers, it wasn’t enough. The blocks did run smoother because he was in charge. But he wanted full control. He wanted full power.
He felt that Yori wasn’t taking him seriously because he was African. They always joked about his slight accent and color of his skin. But one of his favorite moments was when they rented out the strip club and his white wife showed up. She was so beautiful that no one could take their eyes off of her, not even Yori. It was the first time he’d gotten respect but he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last.
After a long day’s work Kerrick stormed into the house and threw his coat on the couch. His wife was in the recliner watching TV and three of their children were sitting at her feet. The older children, five-year-old Kelly and four-year-old Avery were somewhere else in the house.
When Kerrick’s family saw the stone faced expression he wore, they didn’t bother to greet him. They knew the leader of their family well enough to know when to back off.
“Children, go to your rooms,” Victoria told the pack quietly. When they were gone, she addressed her husband carefully. “Honey, can I make you a drink?” she asked, considering his foul mood. “Or something to eat?”
“Gin. No food,” he responded coldly.
She rushed to make his drink and delivered it to him. He was sitting on the sofa and his right leg shook as he tried to calm down.
Victoria pinched her neck a few times out of nervousness, causing red lesions to appear. “Can I take care of you?” she asked softly.
He sat his cup down and undid his jeans. Victoria crawled between his legs, removed his penis and gave him a sloppy, wet blowjob. He didn’t have a dry place on his dick when she was done.
The moment he released his semen into her throat, he looked down at her. She smiled and said, “Yori has to die.” She placed his dick back into his jeans and sat on his lap.
“It’s not that easy, Victoria.”
She kissed his right cheek and then his left. “Why isn’t it? For the last six months you have been beside yourself with anger. A king can’t remain under a peasant for long.” She placed a warm hand on his face. “You have the soldiers, Kerrick. So you have the blocks. Take them. I’m begging you.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Taking over a kingdom seldom is.”
****
After a long shower, Kerrick sat in the living room and thought about what his wife said. She was right. It was time to attack. His only dilemma was how.
He was about to go to bed when he heard some giggling in the den. Since all of the children were supposed to be in bed, he was confused. When he opened the door, he saw his two oldest children sitting on the floor kissing each other.
At first he was about to rush in and shake them to death for acting on their emotions. And then he looked at them. Their light skin…a product of himself and his beautiful white wife. They were perfect. So it was natural for them to be attracted to each other. They lived in a country without code or honor. Their father on the other hand was born in Africa and as a result, his blood was close to royalty. So he closed the door and left them alone. He would be back for them later to be sure they went to bed.
Slowly he walked into his room, not sure what he was actually saying. It didn’t take him long to make a decision. He did not want his children breeding with African Americans. He wanted them to breed amongst themselves and stay pure.
With his mind made up, he crawled into bed with his wife. At first he wasn’t going to tell her about what he saw, but he wanted to prepare her for his future plan. “I saw Avery and Kelly in the den.”
“What were they doing?” she asked with suspicious eyes. Her demeanor told him that what they shared they had done before.
“Kissing.”
“I’m sorry, Kerrick. I don’t know what has gotten into them lately. I think it’s because you don’t want them to go to a public school. They don’t have any friends outside of each other and it may be a bad idea to keep them isolated like this. They are spending too much time with one another.”
He frowned. “I told you I don’t want my children around these American niggers. Their minds will be corrupted and I won’t have that! Continue to home school them. And if you need help, I’ll get you someone. But they must remain in this house. My family is all I have and I don’t want them altered.” He looked into her eyes and he looked like a demon. “I have a plan that will keep my bloodline pure and you may not like it but you will have to trust me.”
“Are you saying what I think you are?” she looked over at him, hoping he wasn’t implying incest would be their way of life.
“I married you because you agreed to follow my lead. I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
****
It had been two weeks since Kerrick decided to relinquish power over the soldiers and it was difficult. In order for his plan to work, he needed to slack off too. Because he was always up early, he would have to find something to do just to be late for work. He was determined to stop doing Yori’s dirty work. If he wanted to rule the blocks and take the credit, Kerrick would give them to him.
The first week, the profits went down and the workers weren’t pumping as hard. Yori asked Kerrick if everything was cool and he always said yes. Yori assumed it was a bad week or that a rival gang had released free dope testers, which caused them to lose business. But for damage control, he promised to introduce Kerrick to Abraham just to be sure. But Kerrick wasn’t playing the game anymore. He would simply nod and walk off.
When sales dropped the second week, Yori got his ass handed to him by Abraham. His job was threatened along with his life so he had to make a move.
Without Kerrick placing the fear of God into the men, things weren’t as smooth as a Bentley engine anymore. Yori realized he’d had a long run of taking responsibility for Kerrick’s work and now it was time to render to Caesar.
“Have you been noticing anything weird with the soldiers?” Yori asked Kerrick.
“Naw,” he said looking up and down the block for a customer. “I just do me.”
“I know. Your money is always right,” he responded. “But what about everyone else?”
When Yori looked over at Riley, Mox and Jameson, he grew angry. Riley was standing in the cut entertaining a cute dark skinned girl with a large ass and a bright smile. Mox was eating a hot dog from 7-Eleven while another sat in his lap. Even Jameson was tripping as he held a large gray cell phone to his ear.
Realizing the men only respected him if Kerrick was in control, Yori asked, “What do you want, Damien?”
Kerrick acted as if he had no idea what he was talking about. “You gotta be clearer, man.”
Yori exhaled. “You want to meet Abraham? Is that what you want?”
“I want you to be a man and keep your promise.”
Yori shuffled a little. “Okay. You got that. But first I want you to go with me to pick up a shipment that’s being delivered tomorrow. When that business is done, I’ll introduce you to Abraham.”
Kerrick remained planted, not sure if he should believe him or not. “You should know that if you lie to me again, this time there will be problems for your health.”
Yori swallowed hard. “I just want to make money, man,” he said, fearing Kerrick more than God. He extended his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Kerrick looked at his grubby little fingers. The last time he thought he had a deal with him, he was left on the block
for five years. So he took his time accepting his offer. He wanted Yori to feel like he was dealing with his boss instead of his subordinate. When he was ready, he shook Yori’s hand firmly, squeezing his fingers in the process.
Then he snapped his fingers and all of the soldiers fell in line.
Riley sent the bitch about her business. Mox threw his hot dog in the trash and Jameson stuffed the huge phone, which he wasn’t talking on anyway, in his baggy acid washed jean pocket.
Yori looked at his soldiers. His mouth fell open and his bottom lip trembled. The level of disrespect his senior men exhibited had him thinking about retiring. “So…they…they were in on this the entire time?”
Kerrick winked and walked away.
****
Not even the night sky could hide the condition of the building Kerrick followed Yori into. If anybody wanted to perform an act of kindness, using a couple of blocks of C4 to blow the bitch up would’ve sufficed.
The hairs on the back of Kerrick’s neck rose as he walked into the abandoned tenement. The hallway, flanked on each side by apartments, was dark and dank. After what felt like forever, Yori eventually walked to the final unit on the left hand side and opened the door…without a key.
In the middle of the room sat an old wooden table that rocked as they brushed past it to enter. The place didn’t seem safe or secure as far as Kerrick was concerned. Whether or not Yori was being irresponsible or unprofessional to choose a place like that to handle business didn’t matter. Kerrick lost even more respect for him.
“What’s up with this place?” Kerrick asked looking up at the ceiling, which was speckled with mold spots. “You do business here for real?” His hands fell by his sides where his .45 rested in his coat pocket. And if things got too wild, Jameson and the other men were only a stone’s throw away outside of the building, waiting on his word.