RedBone 2

by T. Styles

  “Yes.” She looked over at him. “So what is it for you?”

  “Administering pain. Always.” His eyes stayed on the road. “Do you think you could ever be a Slave?”

  She shrugged. “I never thought about it before. I guess I would be willing to try. For you.”

  They continued down the road until they met up with Mayoni and Carlton in the restaurant parking lot. Both of them wore huge grins on their faces as they approached Bones and Farah. “You haven’t looked at the news today, have you, Farah?”

  Farah shook her head no. Carlton whipped out his phone and showed her a news article about a twenty-something female who was found on the side of the road with her throat slit. That part of the story was ordinary. There was always some dead girl on the side of the road. What stood out was the victim’s name: Rhonda Marshall.

  Farah looked up at them and met their grins. “Are you serious?” They leaned against the car and chuckled. “Wow, you guys work fast, don’t you?”

  “You haven’t seen—”

  Before Carlton could finish his sentence, a bullet whizzed between Carlton and Farah, removing the tip of his nose. He dropped to the ground and released the .45 on his hip. The driver in a black car bombarded the area where they stood with bullets. Firing in the direction of the shooter, Carlton had one mission: to kill. Not alone in his quest, Bones and Mayoni matched his shots blow for blow to put down whoever wanted them dead.

  Farah hid behind a car and did her best to avoid getting killed, but the loud noises of the gun popping off didn’t put her at ease. When Bones stood up and moved toward the car, aiming in the driver’s direction, it was only then that she lifted from her spot. Suddenly it was quiet and no one was shooting. The driver was dead, and the windows were splattered with blood.

  “Fuck!” Carlton said, holding his nose as blood poured from his face. “Who the fuck was that?”

  Farah was just as shocked as they were, until she saw someone opening the car door and taking off running. When the person turned around and she saw her face, she felt faint. It was the person she’d been looking for the past few months—Eleanor McClendon.

  A rage like she hadn’t felt in a while crept over her, partly because instead of going into hiding, Eleanor had come after her. And secondly because she knew she could never tell her new friends that someone she knew was involved, for fear that they would blame her and cut her off. It was settled. No matter what she had to do, she was going to kill Eleanor McClendon, even if it was with her bare hands.

  Chapter 23

  Elise

  “. . . if you dumb enough to think that we saying the same thing, you need the help, not Farah.”

  Although it was cool outside, Elise had all of the windows to her apartment wide open. She did it whenever company came over, knowing that not too many could deal with the natural scent of her body. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be speaking to her present guest anyway, but wanted one last attempt to talk some sense into him.

  They were sitting at an old wooden table in the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?” Elise asked Dr. Martin. “I just made a fresh pot.”

  “It smells delicious.” He rubbed his arms for warmth. “Yes, I’ll take a cup. Although I like mine with cream and no sugar.”

  Elise stood up and opened the refrigerator. “Will milk do?”

  He smiled. “Of course.” He rubbed his arms again. “Is there any reason why you have all of the windows open?”

  “Is there any reason you keep interrogating my family, after getting all of the information that you needed already from Farah?” She made the cups of coffee.

  “I really wish you didn’t look at it that way, although I understand why you would.”

  When both of them held cups of coffee in beautiful pink mugs, Elise got to the question at hand. “And the windows are open for your comfort, not mine.”

  “If it’s because of your odor, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve been knowing you for years and understand your concern.”

  Elise closed all of the windows and sat back at the table. “What can I do for you, Dr. Martin? You seemed very upset on the phone earlier today.”

  “I am upset.” He took a sip. “I spoke to the officer again when she called me to follow up, and she admits to applying for a room in Farah’s apartment. What she didn’t admit to is harassing her. In fact, she claims Farah’s friends pulled her over at a gas station and threatened her life.” He wiped his finger along the rim of the cup. “I guess I can’t understand why you and your family can’t seem to see what’s going on with Farah. It’s so obvious that she’s out of control and exhibiting signs of psychosis. I mean, are you okay with your granddaughter hurting other people?”

  Elise sighed heavily. “Me and my family are my business, Dr. Martin. I can’t understand what you want me to say differently about it. If Farah says she isn’t hurting anyone, than she isn’t. I mean, does the authorities have proof?”

  “It’s not what I want you to say, it’s what I want you to do.”

  “Dr. Martin, like I told you at my granddaughter’s house, there was a misunderstanding on what I shared with you, and now you’re taking things out of context.”

  He shook his head in disgust.

  “Even if I wanted to control her I couldn’t. She’s an adult.”

  He placed his cup down. “I believe you have more control over her than you realize.”

  “What exactly do you want, Dr. Martin? If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a man beating around the bush.”

  There was an eerie silence, a silence so long it felt like a third person was in the room. “I want you to have her committed. I have the information to a great facility that can assist her. There used to be another facility for people with her mental illness, called Crescent Falls, but it was dismantled many years ago.” He paused. “Anyway, Farah’s the first of her kind with this type of multiple diagnosis, and I think she could benefit if she was observed around the clock.”

  “And what diagnosis is that? Far as I knew, you only treated her for porphyria.”

  “You’re right, and I can’t be sure without seeing her that she has anything else, although I’m fairly positive. Elise, I believe she has porphyria and a touch of something called Renfield’s Syndrome.”

  “What is that?”

  “Renfield’s Syndrome is when someone believes that in order to survive, they must drink blood. It’s modern vampirism. I don’t know what happened in your granddaughter’s life, but she’s pretty delusional at this point. Was she raised up in a violent home?”

  Elise thought about Brownie and Ashur. If they weren’t terrorizing people in the neighborhood, they were hurting people who they believed did them wrong. Of course they were violent. In fact, Ashur was in prison for killing a family of three, just because their son scratched his car. But in her opinion most black children grew up in less-than-savory environments and learned how to survive.

  “My granddaughter wasn’t raised up in a home any more violent than other people. She had her problems, but then again, don’t we all? It doesn’t mean she needs to be committed.”

  “Elise, to my understanding, her mother is dead.”

  Elise wanted to jump across the table and snatch his throat out but she refrained.

  “And, if that’s the case, you’re pretty much all she has left. She needs you. You are a strong woman, and I’m asking you to help me heal your granddaughter.”

  “I’ll talk to her father,” Elise responded. “He’s in prison right now, but I don’t want to make a decision like this without him.”

  He seemed irritated and twisted in his seat. “He can’t even make decisions for himself. How can he for her?” he asked in a serious tone. “She needs your help, Elise. The kind of help that an in-house facility could provide. And right now, I’m coming to you out of respect.”

  “You want me to agree to have my granddaughter put in a facility over something she said to me over the phone? Are you that delusional
?”

  “She told you she was drinking blood. I know you said she was drunk when she shared the information, but I don’t believe it. A lot of people have gone missing in her building alone. This deserves some serious attention.” He looked at her with pleading eyes.

  “Even if she is”—she swallowed—“drinking blood, how do you know she’s hurting people?

  “Because nobody in their right mind would rightfully give up their blood. That’s why.”

  “I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “If she is drinking blood, she may have ran into someone who can provide. There are a lot of people out here who may have the same fetishes she does. Whatever the situation, it’s her life and she has the right to live it.” Elise pushed her coffee to the side. “Now, I know you’re concerned, but it’s time for you to let it go.” She sat back in her seat. “At this point, there is nothing else I can do.”

  “You need to know that I will never forget what you told me that night on the phone. I haven’t told the officer yet, because I wanted to come to you and your family first.” He took another sip of coffee. “But what you said keeps me up late at night and ruined any chance of me having a normal life. I want peace, Elise, and I can’t have it knowing what your granddaughter is out there doing.”

  “What does that mean?” She frowned, feeling violence wash over her.

  “It means that I have a responsibility to let someone know. Now, I want to have her checked out by a licensed professional and, hopefully, committed willfully into a facility. If we don’t do it that way, the only other way I can think of is by contacting the authorities. I hope you understand, but you really leave me no other choice.”

  Silence stood between them for an eternity. “Dr. Martin, I had Brownie when I was twelve years old. A teacher I cared about decided that he would teach me how to be a woman by taking my virginity. It was the worst experience of my life, prior to losing my daughter and grandchild.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  She put her hand up to silence him. “I don’t need sympathy.” Her hand dropped. “Before Brownie died, I shielded her from everything because I wanted her to be safe and never violated like I was. I was strict with her in some ways, lenient in others. I allowed her to say and see more things than she should have as a teenager and because of it, she developed a fucked-up sense of entitlement. Make no mistake, I feel responsible every day that my leniency may have been the cause of her murder. But yesterday I made a decision that nothing matters. My daughter is gone and my other grandchildren are still here, and I’m going to protect them to the best of my ability, and I won’t let you or anybody else get in the way of that. I hope I’m making myself clear.”

  “And I want you to protect them, starting by getting Farah the help she needs. Don’t you see, Elise, we are saying the same things?”

  “Dr. Martin, if you dumb enough to think that we saying the same thing, you need the help, not Farah.” She grinned. “I need you to stay far away from my family, so far that I won’t see or hear from you ever again.”

  “What about Mia and Shadow? They have porphyria, which I have successfully treated for years.”

  “Not a problem of yours anymore. This is my final warning, and another will not follow it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He backed up in his chair. “I have a feeling you are threatening me, and I don’t take well to threats.”

  “And you should know that I’m making a promise. Stay away from Farah. Stay away from Mia. Stay away from Shadow, and stay away from me. I will do everything I can to see to it that Farah gets the help she needs, but it will be on my time.”

  Dr. Martin stood up, drank the rest of his coffee, and set the mug back on the table. “Thank you for the coffee, Elise. I really appreciate it. It was the best I had in a long time.” He put his coat on. “You have a good day.”

  “You do the same.”

  She was certain that it wouldn’t be the last time she’d hear from him. But she put her warning into full effect, and whether he lived or died was all on him.

  Chapter 24

  Farah

  “. . . I might be willing to help you out, provided it’s worth it.”

  The night sky enveloped Farah’s car as she sat inside of it, staring at the dope house she was about to enter. Something told her Eleanor wasn’t in there, but it was worth a shot. After the attempt Eleanor took on her life, she realized she had to kick her search efforts up a notch to find Eleanor before Eleanor found her again.

  On the news that morning, she learned that the driver Bones murdered was a dope boy out of Chicago. She wondered how he was connected to Eleanor. Before the gun battle, Farah wrote her off as an old lady on heroin who sold small bags of weed to feed her habit. She never once considered that she had the ability to rally the troops. She couldn’t make the same mistake again.

  As she sat in her car, her cell phone rang. She unconsciously answered while looking out of the window. “Hello.”

  “Farah, why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Coconut screamed. “Me and Jake have been worried sick about you. That is so rude and so wrong!”

  Farah removed the phone from her ear, looked at it, and frowned. The Jake situation was getting a little creepier than she thought, and the moment she started making money with the Fold, she couldn’t wait to cut them off. As it stood now, the threesome they participated in allowed her to pay her bills and put food on the table. God only knew what Shadow and Mia did with the little money they made.

  She put the phone back to her ear. “I’m fine, Coconut.” She sighed. “Just had a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

  “You fucked up about Rhonda too, huh?” she asked softly. “Why you going through this alone? Times like this, you’re supposed to be with friends.”

  Farah shook her head. “I have no idea what you talking about,” she lied.

  “Wait, you didn’t hear about Rhonda?” She paused to catch her breath. “She was murdered last week. I wanted to talk to you instead of leaving a message on your phone, but you never answered.”

  “I heard about the murder.” Farah was as dry as cornflakes with no milk.

  Silence. “You heard about the murder and?”

  “And what?”

  “Farah, you sound like you don’t give a fuck.”

  Silence.

  “Farah, you didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her, did you? I mean, you did say she stepped to you at IHOP a while back. Was this out of revenge?”

  “I can’t believe you even coming at me like that. Just because I’m not crying my eyes out don’t mean I don’t give a fuck. Now, I’m sorry to hear about Rhonda, but I have a life over here too.” She paused. “Anyway, how’s Knight?”

  “He didn’t take Rhonda’s death too well. He blamed himself for throwing her out on the streets after losing the baby. The last I heard he was walking around drunk and got locked up for firing into store windows for no reason.”

  Farah shook her head. “He loves blaming other people for the shit that goes on in his life.” Farah observed two pregnant women walking into the dope house, she guessed to get a fix. “When is the funeral?”

  “It was yesterday, Farah. And it was sad too. You should’ve been there.”

  “Me coming to the funeral won’t bring Rhonda back.”

  Silence.

  “That’s the second funeral you didn’t go to when a friend died. You didn’t go to Natasha’s and now Rhonda’s. I lost both of my friends in two years and you all I have left, yet you act like you don’t care about me or nobody else. What’s wrong with you?”

  Farah sighed. “You trying to say I don’t care about you? I allowed you to use me more than anybody else in my life, even to the point where you got me fucking you and your boyfriend at the same time! Don’t tell me I don’t care about you, Coconut. I’m sorry you miss Rhonda more than me, but I have to go. I’ll call you back later.”

  Coconut was the least of her troubles, and if she stayed on the p
hone with her long enough, she would’ve told her so. Besides, with Rhonda gone, she hoped the pictures would stop flowing. With Lesa out of town, the only person she had to worry about was Eleanor. She eased out of the car and dipped into the dope house.

  The stench in the dope house was sickening, but Farah didn’t care. From the entrance of the hellhole, she stood in the middle of the floor and observed the disgusting surroundings.

  “Excuse me,” she said to a man sitting on the floor with his head against the wall. “You know Eleanor? An older white lady with a fat ass?” She pointed at her own. “I think she used to be a stripper or some shit like that.”

  He looked up at her from the floor. His head rolled around loosely on his neck and slobber rolled out of the corner of his mouth. “You got some money? Some change? If you do, I’ll tell you anything you wanna know about anybody.”

  “I got a little change, but you gotta tell me what I want to know first.”

  He frowned. “Who are you anyway?” He adjusted himself on the floor. “The police or something?”

  “Naw, I’m just a friend. And ain’t no need in you worrying about all that. You need to be worried about what the fuck I’m asking you right now. Now, do you know her or not? I don’t have all night to be fucking around with you.”

  “I know of her.” He nodded off again. “But she ain’t here right now. She just left.” He wiped the corner of his mouth. “Like five minutes ago, I think. If you a friend, shouldn’t you know that already?”

  “I’m here, ain’t I?” Farah said angrily. “Now, where is she? It’s important that I get to her right away.”

  “Like I said, that’s going to cost you. But don’t worry though. I’ll take you to her for the right price.” He scanned over Farah’s body. “So what you working with?” He grabbed the edge of her jeans and she kicked him off. She could see his dick harden in his dingy slacks and wanted to throw up.

  “What exactly are you asking for?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Because if it’s pussy, you can forget about it. If it’s money, I might be willing to help you out, provided it’s worth it.”