by Cole Hart
At the moment, Jermaine studied a DVD that he’d put together of Michael Jordon, Kobe Bryant, Lebron James, and Tim Duncan, but Duncan was his favorite. He watched him in slow motion on a fifty-inch flat-screen television. This was his motivation; he would face him one day soon and dominate him in points. Basketball was like a high for him, and he wasn’t about to come down.
When his phone rang, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was catching a headache.
“Whuzzup, bruh?” he answered. He knew it was his twin.
“Whatcha up to up there?”
“You know me…I’m coolin’. What about yo’self?”
“You know how I do it. Man, Mama came up here and caught me slippin’. I had a talk with her and Bookie…some real serious shit, too. And I’m through wit’ all dat bullshit, fa’ real.”
Jermaine smiled, basically because nobody could see him.
“That’s the move,” he said, then asked, “Are you ready?”
“You damn right,” Jeremy shot back. “That’s why I’m callin’ you, nigga.”
“I hope so, ‘cause I don’t want the fame by myself.” Jermaine stood up and walked into his kitchen. He opened the fridge and got himself a V8, downing it before Jeremy’s next response.
“Boy, you can best believe I won’t let myself get lost in the crowd,” Jeremy said, then added, “Bruh, you know we’re connected like the mob. Between Mama and Bookie…”
“Yeah…yeah,” Jermaine shot back.
He didn’t like when his brother spoke on issues like that. Even though he knew Summer was connected to something or somebody, he didn’t like it nor did he want to be a part of it.
His doorbell rang. He stood erect and looked toward the door.
“Let me get back at you, bruh. I love ya. Stay up.”
“Be safe, nigga. See you in da draft.”
Jermaine laughed. “See you next week at Grandma’s house.”
“Damn right. I forgot it was her birthday. See you then, nigga.”
Jermaine hung up, went to the door, and glanced through the peephole. Standing on the other side was a blonde Amazon; her jade green eyes were stunning. He opened the door for the 6’2” beauty. It wasn’t a doubt that she was a Goddess, with her tanned, smooth skin. She wasn’t much older than him, maybe four years at the most, and she was in her senior year at UNC.
“Hello, Jermaine,” she said politely.
He stepped back and opened the door wider. His heart began to pound uncontrollably. She stepped over the threshold and he closed the door behind her. He turned and met her lustful stare. The kiss she gave him was unexpected.
She was only supposed to be there to tutor him. Her name was Misty, the granddaughter of the governor of North Carolina. Her father was an attorney at a huge law firm in Charlotte, and her mother owned a chain of restaurants on the east and west coasts. And this was something her family wouldn’t approve of.
There she dropped to her knees and removed his soft penis from his shorts and boxers. She kissed it, hugged it, and shoved it in her mouth to meet her wet tongue. He grew large and hard in her mouth.
She looked up at him with those dazzling eyes as he came in her mouth. She massaged his scrotum but never took her eyes away from his.
A loud knock came from the other side of the door. Jermaine gave a bewildered look. He wasn’t expecting company and didn’t have a clue who it was.
*****
Several hours later, Summer was in Bookie’s arms in their master bedroom in Columbia County, when their private line rang. Bookie had in a pair of earplugs watching the Color Purple on a seventy-inch flat screen. He didn’t hear the phone, but Summer did. She stirred a little.
“The phone’s ringing,” she whispered.
When he saw her lips moving, he removed the earpiece and heard it himself. He leaned over and answered it.
“Hello.”
A frown appeared across his face when he heard the operator from the North Carolina County Jail. He pressed the intercom button after the call was accepted.
“Whuzzup, Twin?” Bookie asked.
Thunder clapped outside, and Summer jumped. Her eyes opened suddenly when she heard her son’s voice emerging through the speaker.
“A female friend came over. Her father had her followed by a detective or some shit. Anyway, they got me charged with kidnapping and rape.”
Summer felt a knot in her stomach, and it took her a few seconds to get control of herself. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“Who was the girl?”
“Misty,” he said, then added, “But she tried to tell them what happened. It’s the detective that’s pushing the issue.”
“White girl?” Summer asked.
“Yes, ma’am, but it ain’t like that.”
“Now do you see how easy it is to get caught up in bullshit? This is the type of shit y’all got to watch for in the future. Everybody is out for a dollar, Jermaine.” She ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. “Hold tight until first thing in the morning. You’ll be out then.”
She hung up. Bookie faced her, looking at her with a deadly stare.
“You did that shit?”
She snuggled up against him and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. Then she shrugged. “Some people don’t believe what you tell them, and you have to give them a real-life situation. No pressure. No stress. No pain. No gain.”
Bookie flipped the covers off and got out of bed.
“You takin’ shit too serious,” he said before leaving the room.
Summer waved him off as if she didn’t care. She relaxed herself and opened her legs. Her left hand went into her silk bikini panties, and she fingered herself until she came.
Chapter 59
Mrs. Diane was indeed getting older, but she damn sure took good care of herself. Summer made sure she had the best of the best, including doctors and even her personal live-in nurse. Her house was situated on four acres of land in Columbia County. Lil’ Danté and Alisa lived with her. Lil’ Danté was still boxing, and Alisa was focused on school. She wanted to be a computer programmer, but Summer wanted her to do something on a political level.
Inside the house, Lil’ Danté brought in a huge cake with sixty-something candles blazing. He knew his grandmother wouldn’t be able to blow them all out, but he would help her. He loved Mrs. Diane, who he called Big Mama, and would do anything she asked. The living room was crowded with friends and family. Lil’ Danté had invited his friends, Summer invited a lot of business associates, and so did Bookie. Red Bone was there, also, looking stunning as ever. Everybody brought gifts. The twins came too, both with girls on their arms. Diamond wasn’t about to let Jeremy get away. She was casually dressed and wore loose-fitting clothes. They all sang happy birthday and blew out the candles. Then it was time for Mrs. Diane to take her nap.
Summer walked Mrs. Diane to her room and tucked her in. Then she sat on the bed next to her mother and softly rubbed the side of her face.
“It’s been a while since we just sat and talked,” Summer whispered, avoiding eye contact with her mother.
Summer felt her mother’s trembling hands. She turned and looked in her eyes.
“I always knew you were gonna make it.”
Summer smiled and nearly lay in the bed next to Mrs. Diane. She kissed her mother’s cheek and said, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Mrs. Diane’s eyes turned teary. She gently patted Summer’s hand and her bottom lip began to tremble. “I love you, baby.”
Summer tried desperately to hold her composure, but she began to experience dry heaving and just let it all out. Her heart had ached for so many years. She cried like a baby and hugged her mother.
Mrs. Diane closed her eyes. She was tired now and Summer knew it. She kissed her mother again, this time on the lips.
Mrs. Diane was gone. She died in her daughter’s arms.
*****
After the funeral, it was business as usual for Summer; but with he
r kids, it was a different story. The twins took it hard, but they knew they had to give their younger brother and sister a strong shoulder to lean on. However, Lil’ Danté was focused on an issue just as severe as his grandmother’s death.
Two weeks earlier, the same night of Mrs. Diane’s birthday and death, Lil’ Danté had his dog, a trained Persian Canary, in the garage checking his teeth and gums. He’d grown antisocial and in a short time. Something really wasn’t clicking in Lil’ Danté’s head. His mentality was different, and rap music had a serious influence over him. He wanted to sell drugs because he’d heard about his mother and Bookie and his father Danté and his uncle Rodney. His years in boxing had helped him develop his deadly attitude. He used his muscle and boxing face in school to get the attention he wanted.
He glanced around the dimly-lit garage. There was a tool shelf to his right. He went to it, removed a small toolbox, sat it on the concrete floor, and opened it. Inside were twin Glock .40’s with four extended clips, a pair of black gloves, a ski mask, and a thin custom-made vest that could be worn underneath a t-shirt. This was just part of his arsenal. There were more weapons buried on their property, and it would be only a matter of time before he used them. He was sixteen now, and to him, he was grown and a force to be reckoned with.
Today, he and Bookie rode alone in a black 2005 Yukon listening to Sade’s “Cherish the Day”. They turned into the Augusta Mall parking lot. Bookie was driving, lost in his own thoughts but slowly bobbing his head. The parking lot was crowded. Bookie lit up a cigarillo, looked at Lil’ Danté, and blew smoke towards him.
“The smoke doesn’t bother you, do it?” he asked.
Lil’ Danté shook his head and then looked toward the waiting car in the Toys R Us parking lot.
He looked back at Bookie and said, “You know I seen you wit’ my mama’s friend, Red Bone.”
Then he removed his Glock .40 and aimed it at Bookie’s temple. Without another word, he pulled the trigger. The gun roared, blood spattered on the window, and Bookie’s head fell over. Danté stared briefly while squinting his eyes.
He jumped out and moved like a Cheetah. The Yukon rammed the rear of a Toyota Camry. He was moving, though, fighting for his life as usual. Bookie wasn’t ready to die today. He had something to live for; that’s for sure. He wouldn’t have ever guessed it would end like this, the one who he least expected.
Three hours later, Summer had gotten the news, and Lil’ Danté wasn’t the one who gave it to her. The police had notified every person whose number was stored in the phone found inside Bookie’s SUV. The ambulance raced him to the Medical College of Georgia. Despite the heavy traffic, it only took the ambulance seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds.
When Summer arrived, he’d already been taken into surgery. Lil’ Danté waited in the waiting room with her. Before long, there were over fifty people waiting and praying, hoping he’d pull through. Lil’ Danté stood against the wall. He didn’t know Bookie had this much support. Some of the guys that were there he’d seen on the news for murder. Some of them were big dope boys, and nearly every last one of them had a bulge in their waistline. He knew how a gun looked tucked underneath a shirt.
Lil’ Danté stuffed his hands in his Red Monkey jeans, his eyes still searching the crowd. He was too young to be this heartless. His calmness showed across his face. Then Red Bone walked in. She was stunning, dressed in a tight-fitting summer dress with open-toe sandals. She hugged a few people and then glanced around the room as if she was looking for somebody.
Danté watched her every move. He pulled his hands from his pockets and folded his arms across his chest. Their eyes met, hers squinting, and then she started towards him. He left the wall and headed in her direction, also.
“Hey,” she said, hugging him. “Where ya mama?”
She sounded very concerned. She felt the strength in Lil’ Danté’s powerful arms. Leave it to her to be thinking such sexual thoughts at a time like this, but it was a mental note that she’d keep to herself…at least for now anyway.
Before he could answer, Summer entered the waiting room with her eyes fire red. The crowd parted and closed in behind her, everybody staring in her direction. Lil’ Danté removed himself from Red Bone when he saw his mother coming from the rear. When she reached them, Danté faced her. He just knew she’d found out.
“Is he alright?” he asked.
Not wanting to make a scene, Summer kept her cool.
“He’s not looking good,” was all she said, and everybody heard her.
Chapter 60
Two weeks later, Summer was at home collecting her thoughts. Her mother was gone, Bookie was gone, and the twins were away at college. At least their future was promising. She banked on that. In her bedroom, she had a list of names of everybody who owed her money from a few blocks and a few pounds. She knew a lot of cats in the streets that owed her probably wouldn’t pay because Bookie was gone. He had been her muscle and strength. Now she was vulnerable.
The first name on the list was a guy called Crazy Legs. Summer knew of him only from what Bookie had told her. Beside his name was one hundred and eighty thousand. It was spelled out in code.
She picked up a cell phone, one that couldn’t be traced or bugged. The number she dialed was disconnected.
Bitch, she said to herself. A worried look appeared across her face as she dialed another number. The name was Cheerio. Summer had dealt with him before. She knew his MO, and he was thorough. He only owed like seventy-three grand. An odd number, but still a nice piece of change.
Cheerio answered. “Hello.”
“It’s me,” Summer whispered. Her name wouldn’t go across the airwaves…at least not on a business note anyway.
“We got a bad connection. Let me call you back.”
The line went dead, and she stared at the phone blankly.
“I know these niggas ain’t trying me like this,” she said angrily.
Lil’ Danté had entered her room. He’d been there; she just hadn’t noticed. He really wanted to tell Summer that he was the one who offed Bookie, but he decided to keep it under his belt. He sat on the bed next to her. His strong hands grabbed hers. There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Lil’ Danté wanted her to break first. He needed her to tell him everything. She wouldn’t, though. Dark circles and bags were forming underneath her eyes.
“You alright?” he asked.
Her body quivered and her eyes became moist. “You know everybody thinks I had Bookie knocked off.”
“Where you hear that from?” A concerned look spread across his hardened face.
“We still keep an ear to the street. Red Bone comes through with valuable information from the strip club.”
Lil’ Danté thought for a minute. He was a sharp thinker and quick on his feet, something he learned from the boxing club. He studied his mother again. She looked devastated. Her eyes shifted to the nightstand where a framed photograph of her and Bookie sat.
It began to rain outside. Lil’ Danté stood up and went to the window to stare at the dark gray skies with his back to Summer.
Then out of nowhere, he said, “He died for a reason.”
*****
Cheerio was a short, handsome guy who kept himself well groomed. He wore a goatee and a low haircut. He arrived in the Applebee’s parking lot on Wrightsboro Road in a beat-up Ford 1500 pickup truck. The rain was coming down relentlessly. A guy who had been waiting in a parked car next to him got out and jumped in with Cheerio, a duffel bag folded underneath his arm.
“Whuzzup?” the guy asked Cheerio. Paranoid, he glanced around the parking lot. The cocaine and X-pills had him that way.
Cheerio stared at him. “I got us a lick, nigga.”
The guy’s face lit up. “Show nuff?” he responded. “Who?”
“Dis bitch named Summer. Shawty used to fuck wit’ Bookie. Dey say she da one had him knocked off.”
The guy looked around again as if someone was following him or abo
ut to kill him. “Where she live?”
“She out in Columbia County, big-boy crib with the electrical fence and everything.”
“Nigga, you act like you glad she got all dat. How da hell we gonna get in?”
Cheerio paused briefly with a sinful grin across his face. “I owe her money and she wants it. All we got to do is put the plan together.”
The guy looked around again before removing a nearly empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one up and stuffed his last one back in his pocket. The menthol smoke circulated through the truck. He glanced in the rearview mirror on his side, his hand twitching a little when he brought it up to his mouth.
“How much money we talkin’?” he asked.
“I’ma estimate over a quarter million,” Cheerio said.
The guy snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and nodded his head nervously. “Count me in.”
*****
Summer had a mini Glock. It was smaller than a .25 automatic, and it was aimed at Lil’ Danté. Tears streamed her face while he stood there in disbelief, his eyes squinting angrily. He was under a lot of pressure right now, but he didn’t show it.
“So you gonna shoot me, Mama?”
The contempt in his voice hit her like a punch. His face was slowly beginning to cover with perspiration. Summer couldn’t believe him; she just shook her head.
“Why would you do something like that, Danté?”
She tried desperately hard to calm down, but her voice still trembled. Lil’ Danté hesitated for a minute, his eyes shifting from hers, to the barrel of the gun, and then back to her eyes.
“I caught him and Red Bone together at Grandma’s birthday party.”
Summer’s eyes displayed much pain. She stared at him for what seemed like forever before she slowly lowered the gun. He maneuvered cautiously in her direction and hugged her. Her arms wrapped around him tightly.