by Keisha Ervin
Parker strutted to the door, and when he opened it, in walked Terrence. He reached down inside of his pants and pulled out a 9 mm. They came closer to us and Terrence wiggled the gun around in his hand.
“Which one of these bitches would you like for me to pop first?”
Vivica covered her mouth and tears flowed from her eyes. “Terrence, how could you lie to me? Didn’t I pay you enough money? I will give you more, just don’t do this, please!”
I was nervous as hell, but did my best not to show it. Vivica was bringing too much attention to herself, and she would definitely get popped before I would. Terrence laughed and moved over close to Parker.
“She’s making too much noise. Let me hear her squeal first, and then I’ll handle the other one.”
Parker slid his arm around Terrence’s waist and kissed him on the lips. “Do whatever you want to, baby. You know I got your back.”
He touched Terrence’s ass, and Vivica’s and my expressions were frozen in time. I couldn’t believe Parker was on the down low, but for a man to have sex with as many women as he had, and to hate women as much as he did, the proof was in the pudding. Their actions disturbed Vivica so much that she hurried off the couch and caught Terrence off guard. She swung her Coach bag across his hand and knocked the gun away from him. We all rushed for the gun, and as fast as I scrambled across the floor to get it, it wound up in her hands. She yelled for everyone to back away and threatened to shoot.
“Back up!” she ordered again. “Rochel, get the phone and hurry up and call the police.”
For me, calling the police wasn’t going to suffice. I stood still and Vivica looked at me like I was crazy. “Bitch, did you hear what I said?”
“I heard you, but—”
Terrence thought Vivica was distracted, so he moved forward. She pulled the trigger and his body flew backward onto the floor. Her hands trembled and she started crying hysterically.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she said, covering her mouth. “What have I done? God, what have I done!”
Parker held up his hands and tried to calm her. “Baby, it’s okay. Give me the gun and let’s get out of here. Let’s go home—”
I knew what he was up to and yelled loudly for Vivica to shoot him. Instead, she dropped to the floor and rocked back and forth on her knees while sobbing.
“Shoot him!” I yelled as Parker kept moving in her direction. I knew if he got the gun he’d kill us both.
She tearfully lifted the shaking gun and aimed it at me, then him.
“Don’t either of you move. Please don’t make me do this,” she sobbed. “Please don’t take another step.”
Parker stopped dead in his tracks and tried his best to work her over. “Viv, baby, I’m sorry. I hate like hell that our marriage has come to this, but you left me no other choice. You wouldn’t stop throwing this bitch up in my face and I got tired of you complaining about a woman that I never, ever loved. Unfortunately, I found comfort with Terrence. He was the only person I could turn to, and if you want me to get help, I promise you I’ll do it. I’ll do it because . . .”
I could see that Parker’s efforts were working, and Vivica stared at him without blinking an eye. She wanted every word that he said to be true, and he was so good at convincing women to see things his way. I hurried to her side and yelled at her again.
“Pull the damn trigger,” I said with a strained voice. “Now, you stupid—”
Parker dove forward and I snatched the gun from her hand. “Trick or treat, you asshole,” I said and shot off two bullets to his chest, not waiting around to see his body drop.
My Life Will Never Be the Same
I sat in a lawn chair on the beach with my two-piece bikini on and let the sun caramelize my body. I was so glad that it was all over with and the man I once knew as Parker Rhodes was in hell. After I left the hotel room that day, Vivica came after me. She didn’t know what we’d do with two murders on our hands, and I encouraged her to calm down and not to worry. The ball was definitely in our court and I was the one sitting on all of the evidence. Parker and Terrence’s incident looked like a wife gone mad about her husband’s secret life, and I convinced Vivica to go to the police and say it was done in self-defense. She spent a few days in jail, but with the help of her lawyer, she was cleared of all charges.
She basically felt as if she owed me her life, and once again, I was paid dearly for the services I provided. I never thought I could go to the extent of shooting anyone, but killing Parker Rhodes gave me much pleasure.
I had no regrets, but wasn’t sure if I had the guts to ever kill again.
The sun was baking my body, so I sat up and looked for the tanning lotion I’d placed by my side. I didn’t see it, but was interrupted by a tall, dark, and handsome man who stood close by with the lotion in his hand.
“Were you looking for this?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I was.”
The man kneeled down beside me in the sand. “My name is Marcus. Do you mind if I put some of this on you?”
I revealed my back to him by bending slightly over. “That would be nice. Thanks.”
Marcus squeezed the tanning lotion on his hands and massaged it into my back. I closed my eyes and looked over to the left, then to the right. When I opened my eyes, they connected with Marcus’s wife, whom I had met only a few days ago. She was clearly in disguise, so I asked if he wanted something to drink from the coconut bar and excused myself from the relaxing massage he was giving me. As he got comfortable in the chair beside mine, I went to the bar to order our drinks. Marcus’s wife stood next to me and whispered as softly as she could, without displaying anger.
“I want you to make him regret every—”
I quickly cut her off and winked. “Don’t worry. I love my job and take it very seriously. I’ll be in touch soon.”
The bartender handed me our drinks and I displayed a wide grin while making my way back to Marcus. His lustful eyes already said what the day and night had in store for us, and I was enthused about the money that would soon reach my pockets. But, no matter how excited I was about the money, nothing entertained me more than the game itself, the electrifying sex that came with it, and the thrill of watching all of the men like Marcus tumble down. It was a feeling like no other, and yet again, I was so ready to roll up my sleeves, or pull up my dress, and get to work.
Breaking Down A Brickhouse
by Edd McNair
“Niecy, you need to stop talking like that,” Janelle said to her sister over the phone. She was going through it with her man and Janelle couldn’t understand why.
“I’m tired of this, Janelle. I am tired. This nigga has put his hands on me and scared my kids for the last time, the last time,” she cried.
“He just came home and fucked you up and left? Come on, Niecy,” she said, knowing there was more.
“I’m tired of his kids, tired of my kids; I’m pregnant again and all this nigga do is run the street and run hoes, beat my ass, and use me. But I got a trick for his ass tonight; I got a trick for everybody!”
“We both know Poppa don’t roll like that. He take care of you good, and yeah, he run hard, but you know the life and he just opened the club. He told me how you jumped on him, wylin’ out, kicking holes in the wall, and breaking shit. Drinking like you lost your mind. You been acting real fucked up lately, not the big sister I know, that taught me how to get down. Now you all depressed and shit, letting yourself go, and how you get pregnant again if you tired of him?” I asked, waiting for a harsh comeback.
“Can’t explain it Janelle. I can’t in God’s name . . . I can’t explain nothing in my life.”
“Why?” Janelle asked.
“I’m telling you, I don’t know why!” Niecy cried.
“’Bye, girl, you fucked up. I’m going to the grand opening of ‘Reign,’ your man’s club. You supposed to be celebrating with him and you home playing. Love you, girl, but you got to get it together. I ain’t never seen you
act like this.”
“Because you don’t hear me when I say I’m tired,” Niecy snapped.
“Well, get some rest, I know those kids sleep. I’ll call you when we leave the club. Hollah,” Janelle said and hung up.
Janelle had never heard her sister like that. It was like she didn’t know her, listening to her talk. Over the years, she’d learned so much from her sister. First she learned what to do, now in the last year, she was learning what not to do, but every time that Saturday night played in her head, she would shake, cry, and wake up screaming.
She remembers her last conversation with Niecy that Saturday night. It’s been almost a year and it still plays in her head like it was yesterday. She always starts crying when she pictures her sister at 3:15 A.M. that early Sunday morning, and she goes into a deep stare. The same stare that met her sister’s eyes that night.
It was the grand opening of Reign, the newest club in Tidewater, located in Virginia Beach. It had taken a lot of money to get Reign open, and even bigger connections. The grand opening was beautiful; the club held about 900 guests and they had about 400 that night. It was off the chain.
We weren’t surprised, because the guest list extended to most of the biggest moneymakers in the Hampton Roads. From local store owners to elite beauty and barber shops, as well as other well-known guests and business owners that held status in Hampton Roads area. A few of the other club owners had stopped in to see what Poppa had put together. He had two performances that night, one hip-hop and one R&B. Poppa had set that up with the CEO of Money Island, Big Sherm, and Straight Dough Entertainment owner, Dough. Many egos and much money packed the club. Poppa was running around on cloud nine, but at the same time stressed out. His stress jumped two notches when he saw his cousin come through the door followed by eight more niggas: two dressed in black, and two of them wearing long platinum chains that read “LEP.”
The night was going well and every time Janelle looked at her sister’s man, she wondered why she wasn’t here sharing this moment with them. Janelle sat in VIP with her girls Reece, Lowe, and Danyelle. Even though her man was a silent partner in the club, she sat back and played her position. Poppa had them; they never had a problem being taken care of. Wherever they went, niggas always showed love, offering to buy drinks and breakfast.
She looked at her phone to check the time and saw she had three missed calls. Then she saw the text message: Don’t do it like me Janelle, do it right. Appreciate life. Love you!
What? she thought. It’s 1:45 and she still up acting crazy. She looked around the club for Poppa. He was standing on the wall talking to Dundee, chilling. Poppa wasn’t the prettiest nigga, but his style and swagger showed he was that nigga. The $340 Red Monkey jeans and the $380 matching hoodie, white T-shirt hanging out, and new Tims, no jewels, still sent an aura of money. Her sister had her mind gone, she had Janelle scared. As the club faded out, she saw Poppa stare at his phone. A disturbing expression came across his face. He began searching the club, and Janelle’s eyes met his as he searched VIP. He came right over to her.
“Stick around so you can roll to my house, your sister acting . . .” he said, and began to stumble over his words as if searching for something to say but in a nice way.
“Say it, cause I know,” she said.
“Ignorant as fuck, crazy, depressing, sick, I don’t know, I don’t know her,” he said. “But I want you to come by and check on her.”
“I’ll roll with you. I came here with Danyelle; she’ll be all right getting home,” Janelle added.
Poppa paid his security and waitresses, then counted money from the door, the bar, and the separate VIP bar. He paid his bartenders and locked up the club. He and Janelle jumped in his 2007 champagne-colored Tahoe and headed to the home he shared with Niecy in Alexandria, on the new side of Virginia Beach.
“Did you call her?” Janelle asked.
“Yeah! She didn’t answer. I know she ain’t asleep ’cause she just texted me a little while before two o’clock, talking about ’bye, I need to be alone, I don’t need no family, I’ll be better off by myself, her and the kids going to a better place.”
“I called too, no answer,” she said. Janelle was scared now; Niecy was being real crazy. They pulled in front of the four-bedroom ranch-style home. The house looked dark as they walked inside. There was no sign of Niecy. Janelle stood in the great room as Poppa hit the light. She glanced at the kitchen as he made his way down the hallway. He reached for the bedroom door on the left and opened it. He heard water running in the bathroom opposite the bedroom.
“Is she here?” Janelle yelled .
“Niecy, Niecy!” Poppa screamed out as he walked into the bathroom and hit the light switch.
“Aah! No!” Janelle heard him yell in a pitch that was so stabbing, she closed her eyes and began to pray.
“Uugh!” Poppa cried as he quickly turned off the water and fell to his knees to lift both of his kids’ limp bodies from the steaming hot water. He scalded his arms in the process, yelling in agony as he held his kids. He never heard the bedroom door open, but Janelle did. She watched as Niecy walked across the hall to the bathroom door. That’s when he saw her raise the .32 Beretta.
“Do you feel my pain now, motherfucker? Do you feel my pain?” she said in a deep voice that was far from the normal. Poppa was really surprised when he looked up at her and she pulled the trigger twice, shooting him in the head. He fell over, allowing their kids to slide back into the water.
“Nieecccy!” Janelle yelled as she grabbed her face and began shaking uncontrollably as the tears began to pour. She was hurt and scared. She could barely catch her breath when she turned to look at Niecy.
“I’m so tired, Janelle. I’m so tired. My kids are gone to glory, they happy. I’m happy now, Janelle.” As she put the .32 in her mouth, she stared into her sister’s eyes. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She no longer saw the gun; all she saw was the hurt and confusion in her sister’s eyes.
“Please, Niecy, don’t do this! I love you! I can’t live like this, I need my sister, I need my sister,” she said through tears and stutters. “Please don’t Niecy, don’t do this to—”
Boom! Niecy had put the barrel in her mouth and used her thumb to push the trigger. Janelle saw the smoke from the gun and watched helplessly as the force from the blow knocked out her sister’s teeth. She saw pieces of the back of Niecy’s head hit the wall as her lifeless body crumbled. Janelle fell to her knees and passed out.
When her eyes opened seven hours later, she was laying in Virgina Beach General Hospital with her body shaking from the anxiety attack. She was staring into space as if her mind had seen something it couldn’t handle. After administering different medications, doctors came to the conclusion that she should be released into the care of Tidewater Psychiatric Institute. It would be months before she could even handle talking about the situation.
It wasn’t until they rolled Poppa in her room four months later that she got the strength to move. She gave him a hug that felt like forever. Poppa had spent the last four months in Norfolk General Hospital. It was the only hospital that was equipped to treat his gunshot wounds. They both had a long cry, stared at each other, and hugged again. A rise of strength came in them both until she asked about the kids. Everyone she talked to, the doctors, nurses, and police had all had asked her what happened, but all she knew was that her sister had killed Poppa (so she had thought), and killed herself.
“What are you talking about, Janelle?” Poppa asked, confused that she of all people would be asking about the kids.
“How are the kids and who they with?” she asked again, wondering why he was looking at her so strangely.
“Do you remember what happened that night?” he asked reluctantly.
“I don’t want to, Poppa, I don’t want to remember,” she said, getting frantic and shaking her head as the tears began to form. He rolled closer to her bed, took her hands, and held them tightly.
“Calm down,
baby, calm down. I know what you feeling,” he said as her therapist, doctors, and detectives looked on, all needing to know what was going on in her head.
“Tell me what you remember, Janelle. I tell you what I remember, then I’ll tell you the facts,” he said as his eyes filled with water. She began to slowly explain as she tried to remember that Saturday night after arriving at Poppa’s house.
“We walked in the house, you walked in the bathroom and screamed. Niecy walked out from the room, said something, then shot you two times. Then she looked at me, put the gun in her mouth, and . . .” she said, breathing hard, “then shot herself!” she yelled as the picture slowly played in her head. “I couldn’t stop crying and I was losing my breath. Then I must have passed out, because that’s all I remember before this and being here. Talk to me, Poppa, please, I’m scared.”
“When I walked in the bathroom . . .” he said with his head pointed down to his lap. Janelle listened quietly and stared at the bandages wrapped around Poppa’s head. They’d had to perform a craniotomy on Poppa because the bullet had shattered his skull and caused swelling of the brain. One bullet was left lodged in the skull. The other bullet had hit his skull but exited through the temple, which sent Poppa into a coma. His recovery was slow coming, but it was a miracle he was even talking. He slowly put his words together, trying his hardest to remember this tragic incident.
“TreVonne and Azia were floating in a tub full of hot water with the water running,” he said, squeezing her hands.
“Oh my God,” she cried softly, trying to keep control.
“I reached in and scooped them both up as their skin slid off and my arms got burned to shit,” he continued as he let her hands go and pulled up his sleeves, showing his disfigured forearms and hands.
“I’m sitting there over the tub with them in my arms, when I hear her behind me. I thought it was you, but when I looked up, I watched the woman I gave my heart to shoot me. Last thing I remember was that first shot.” By now, Poppa had his face squinted up, trying to hold back from breaking down. “When I woke up a month later in Norfolk General Hospital after fighting hard for my life, I realized I couldn’t feel my legs. The doctors said she shot me a second time. When I asked about my other kids and where they were, I had forgotten that I left Quin and Taye with her.” Janelle’s head dropped as he lifted his head and gripped the arm bars on his wheelchair. She began to rub her hands together. She was crying hard and the tears wouldn’t stop.