Not Forgiven: A Thriller and Suspense Novel: Ungoverned Series

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by Shawn Raiford


  "I am a cop."

  Her eyes almost popped out. "Oh, wow! That is so cool!"

  Felix and Amber ended up in bed that night. The next morning he made her breakfast and told her a joke and she laughed. He expected her to tell him how much of a mistake sleeping with him was, but she never did, and they had been together ever since.

  "Yes, daddy! Right there! Keep going. Yes!" Amber paused, her body tensing. On all fours in front of him, Felix's hands gripped her hips like steel clamps. Her body spasmed, he held on like a cowboy riding a wild bronco. A minute later, Felix finished.

  Both collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and breathing heavily. Felix laid there and Amber covered herself with a sheet.

  "That was amazing!"

  He seconded that, placing a hand on her hip.

  "You hungry?"

  "Yeah."

  They got up.

  She only put on a T-shirt, his, and he got dressed. Checking the burner, no one had called him.

  Meeting Amber in the kitchen, Felix sat at the dining room table. They ate microwaved pizza and drank Coke. Her nipples showed through his T-shirt, making him consider asking if she wanted some more. Instead, he told her a dirty joke, and she giggled.

  Being with Amber always made him content, however his state of being would soon end. He couldn't help but think about Mason and Creed. The last time Felix talked to Mason was just after Mitch's divorce. He had not heard much about Creed, but heard good things about him from other cops.

  In time, they would figure things out. Felix had several people killed, over the years, but killing cops was over the line. Felix recognized all cops as his brothers and sisters.

  He looked at her, hoping she wanted to leave with him. If she didn't, it would hurt, but he would understand. "Baby, I have something to tell you."

  "Okay."

  "We have to leave."

  Amber blinked. "What do you mean?"

  "It's about to start raining and we have to leave town."

  "What are you talking about?" Amber, her elbow on the table, held a half slice of pizza.

  "Remember we talked about leaving, going somewhere and starting a family." The conversation took place a few months ago. Felix wouldn't mind having another kid or two. He would be a better dad this time.

  Amber smiled. "You want to have kids?" Amber just reached a year of sobriety. She had been a heroin user for a couple of years. She'd never had a job. Her parents were enablers, always denying her drug problem, always giving her money. Her younger sister came home one night and found Amber non-responsive in the bathroom and called 911. Amber had overdosed and almost died. She entered a program, got clean and had stayed clean.

  After they slept together that first night, Amber confided in him and he appreciated her honesty.

  "Yes, Amber, I want to have a whole litter of kids with you."

  They hugged and kissed.

  He wondered if Tony was dead yet then let the thought go, not helping. "I'm in trouble and I have to leave. I want you to come with me."

  She gazed lovingly into his eyes. She didn't ask him why. "I'll go with you. I don't care where we go, I just want to be with you."

  He hugged her. "Good, I'm so glad."

  Felix Fernandez's life just ended. His new life was about to start anew.

  He and Amber would go to his storage unit to grab his rainy-day fund. In his go bag, he had a passport and credit cards with the false name: Raul Javier Gomez Rodriquez. Also, they would need to see a guy, the best forger in the South, to make Amber's new passport and credit cards.

  An image of Tony's damaged and bloody body entered his mind. The ways that psycho would torture Tony were numerous and made Felix shiver.

  Either way Tony was dead.

  He would not miss the job; it was like using a spoon to scoop out the water of a sinking boat. Every day he tried to manage a cesspool of chaos, and after a long time he was done.

  Gazing into her eyes. "I'm so glad that you want to come with me. I am sorry for putting you in the position, but I did something that lead to a woman being killed."

  "Oh my God, Felix!" she gasped, placing a hand over her mouth.

  "Yes, I know, I will have to live with this for the rest of my life, but I can't go to jail, you know I'll die. So, I have to leave. I have to run. This is my fault, you don't have to come with me, but Amber I do love you, and I'd like it if you came with me."

  She hugged him. "Look, I know you didn't do this on purpose so don't worry. I love you, and I want to be with you."

  "Good."

  They hugged each other.

  "We need to go now."

  She frowned. "It's that bad?"

  "Yes, we need to go to a friend's house to collect some money, and then it's only me and you and the road, babe."

  Amber blinked as if thinking it over. "Let's go!"

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  My Right Hand

  The neighborhood was nice.

  As I drove by Lola's, I spotted one of Happy's men sitting in a car playing with his phone.

  Other men might be inside.

  There were no alley in this neighborhood, so I parked in an empty driveway of a house behind the house Frogger occupied.

  I hopped two fences, and I entered the backyard. I half expected a pit bull or two, thugs love pit bulls, to come charging me, on the other hand, Lola was an innocent and probably didn't like them.

  I looked through a back window. Didn't see anyone, so I pulled out a knife, and cut the screen. I pushed, but the window did not budge. Sometimes people forget to lock windows, Lola hadn't.

  I patted my pockets, finding my lock-picking kit that I had stashed in the trunk of my car. Any contract killer worth anything was knowledgeable about lock picking.

  Took me longer than I expected to pick the lock. I stood in the washroom. I pulled a rose from the inside of my jacket and laid it on the floor. When finished, I would place the flower in a better spot.

  Frogger and Lola should be the only ones inside, but there might be another Triple H thug or two. If not here, I would find the loser, eventually.

  Exiting the washroom there was movement. Rapidly ducking back behind the wall, I exhaled, waiting for someone to come check my position but nobody came.

  I peeked around the corner and saw a woman. Had to be Lola. She was small, Hispanic, and at least seven months pregnant.

  Not good.

  Fetuses, although small, don't do well when bullets start flying.

  Lola walked off to another part of the house.

  With my Heckler & Koch out in front, I moved out of the washroom, entering a big room.

  A plate of cookies sat atop a dinner table that sat six. The cookies appeared to be chocolate chip and tempted me, but no.

  A few feet ahead of me, to my right, an entrance to a hallway. I inched forward and saw a closed door. Likely a bedroom.

  "Babe, you hungry?" a woman asked from a room to my right. It was Lola.

  "Yes, I'm starving!" a man said from another room in the house.

  "What do you want to eat?"

  "Dame tacos!"

  "Esta bien!"

  I passed a couch, a love seat, and a recliner. The dining and living room had been subdivided within one big room.

  The HK still aiming ahead of me, I moved to the next entrance, not far from the front door. To the right was the kitchen.

  Like a female Fred Astaire, I glided over to the front door, peering into the kitchen. Lola had her back to me.

  The front door was locked.

  Next to the door, I glanced out the window, and Happy's guy sat in the car out front.

  As I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, to my right was an entrance to the hallway that led down to Frogger's bedroom.

  Lola looked busy, so I checked the hallway. Although it was dark, I could see four doors. Too much uncertainty behind those doors. I had to find all occupants of this house.

  Lola stood five foot tall, and thin, positioned in front o
f the stove, stirring something in a pot. I walked up to her and put my right hand around her mouth, pointing the HK at her belly.

  "Lola, if you say anything I will kill your baby! Understand me?"

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  High Levels Of Stress

  Happy told him to keep an eye out for anything weird.

  Fonzo sat in his cold-as-shit car outside Lola's house. He wore his biggest jacket but it didn't keep him warm enough. Fonzo had to turn his car on and run the heat a couple of times.

  To help him forget about the cold, he played Missile Strike on his tablet.

  He played the game a few minutes before getting bored. He had a few books on the Kindle app on his phone.

  Fonzo served time in prison, three years in O. B. Ellis Unit in Walker County, Texas, twelve miles north of Huntsville.

  Alfonzo's almost killed himself his first year. He got into a dozen fights and was raped twice. He started having severe chest pains, which put him in the infirmary. The prison doctor's diagnosis was panic attacks caused from high levels of stress. Nothing new to prison life. The doctor, unable to prescribe anti-anxiety medicine told him to exercise more and drink more water, maybe take up meditation. Fonzo worked out and drank more water, but his anxiety remained.

  Thoughts of suicide entered his mind daily. A guard gave him a book, Newton's Wake, by Ken MacLeod, after Fonzo told him about the doctor's diagnosis.

  Fonzo had never read an entire book in his life. He didn't understand parts of the book, but reading about humans on other planets was cool. Though he wasn't a fast reader, he dedicated twelve to fourteen hours to reading each day, so it took him only three days to finish.

  Fonzo learned to escape the confines of his prison cell through books. Who needed TV or the internet when books were everywhere?

  He opened up his Kindle app and found a new book, Afraid by Jack Kilborn. Fonzo had reached the second chapter when he heard something. A gunshot.

  "What the hell?" It came from inside Lola's house. Fonzo put the tablet down and got out of the car.

  Moved quietly along the front of the house, peeking in each window. Found the living room empty. The TV was off.

  Slipped down the side of the house, Fonzo looked in the windows, not seeing anyone.

  He reached the back of the house. Closed mini blinds covered the back windows so the inside of the house was not visible. None of the windows were open, but the back door was unlocked.

  Fonzo decided to move to the other side of the house. Reaching the first window on this side of the house, he peered through, almost yelling out when he eyeballed her.

  Frogger, Lola, and a white woman were there. The white woman aimed a handgun at Frogger. He wondered if she was the one that killed Diablo and the others.

  Lola lay on the floor, not moving. She shot Lola, a pregnant woman?

  He ducked out of the way when she turned his way.

  Any other day he would pull his piece out and start blasting away, but Happy wanted her alive. Pulling out a burner, he turned it on, finding Happy's number.

  Before reaching his car, he heard it ring twice.

  "Que onda?"

  "Hey, Happy, I heard a gunshot inside Lola's house and came to check it out and there's a white woman inside the bedroom with Frogger and Lola!"

  "Did she shoot him?"

  "No, I don't think so. They were talking, but Lola was on the floor. I didn't see her moving."

  Fonzo heard Happy, in the background, telling other soldiers about the gringa at Lola's.

  "Don't go inside!" Happy ordered. "Just wait! Backup is on the way!"

  "No problem, Happy, I'll wait out here by my car!"

  "No, get inside your car and wait! We are on our way!"

  He hung up and Fonzo walked back to his car, got in and kept an eye on the house.

  Chapter Forty

  The Bullet Will Kill Your Baby

  Lola nodded with my hand covering her mouth.

  I forced her close to my body, half hugging her, and we turned so we could see if anyone was coming.

  I whispered, "With your right hand, show me how many other women are in this house, don't count me. And please be careful not to make any sudden movements. This gun has a hair trigger. The bullet will kill your baby, quicker than you can fart."

  Lola nodded, bringing up her right arm and made a one with her index finger, then pointing at herself.

  "Good. Now tell me how many men are in this house."

  Again, she held up one finger.

  "Are you sure? I will hurt your baby if you lie to me!" I grunted. Despite being good at killing people, I'd never do what I just suggested.

  Lola shook her head.

  "I am going to remove my hand and if you make any noise I swear to you, I will shoot you in the belly," I warned.

  She nodded.

  Removing my hand, Lola turned to face me. Not sure why, but I expected her to be a little attractive, average looking, or at least plain looking. Not so much. Her eyes were beady, her nose was too big for her face, and acne covered her entire face.

  "Whisper the name of the man who is here?"

  "His name is Carlos, but he goes by Frogger," she whispered.

  Ten to one, Frogger knocked her around and she took it, because she wanted a man and thought she could change him. Some women don't think they can do better than their piece of shit man; they were all wrong.

  Lola's eyes stuck to the HK when she whispered, "What do you want?"

  "I need to talk to Frogger."

  Lola said nothing.

  "He was hurt. I heard you're a nurse. Did you fix him up?"

  She nodded. "I'm an RN, at Ben Taub."

  Then, I understood. Lola wanted a man, a baby, and the loser wanted a sugar mama. Win-win, I guess.

  Didn't have time to dissect this couple's relationship, besides she was about to become single. "We need to go talk to him."

  I held tightly onto the scruff of her neck and we walked. Entering the hallway, I stopped at the first door, leaning in close to her ear. "Open this door, slowly and quietly."

  The door opened, and it was a bathroom. The shower curtain pulled to the left, no one hiding in the tub.

  "Close it. No fast movements."

  Lola closed the door.

  Not releasing her scruff, we continued down the hallway like snails. We stopped at the next door. "Open it."

  She reached for the door, faster than I liked. I squeezed her neck hard. "What did I tell you about making any fast movements? Do you really want me to kill your baby?" I had no intention of shooting this woman in the belly. I only needed her to believe I would.

  With the threat still wafting in the air, Lola opened the door. It was a bedroom, with pink walls, a baby crib up against the far wall. A bunch of diaper boxes and baby toys.

  The baby's room.

  We continued leisurely down the hall as if we were traveling through tar. Stopping, we stood in front of the next door. Frogger's bedroom. The other hallway entrance. I peered around the wall and found no one.

  "Okay, open this door slowly, Lola."

  Chapter Forty-One

  Peeling Her Toes Like Little Grapes

  Happy was angry because Tony set his guys up to be killed.

  Going over again what he and Tony said.

  "Are you homicide cops?"

  "No, Vice."

  Vice was not needed. People screwed whoever they want and snorted or shot whatever they wanted in this world. Police would never stop it.

  "So why does a cop need my men to kill a gringa for you? Maybe I should've asked you this earlier but who thinks to ask such a question when you offer so much money?"

  "She was a witness to a friend dumping a body."

  Happy has gotten rid of many bodies in the past. Being the leader of Triple H meant he had to be as ruthless as any animal—and then some.

  "What is her name, Tony?"

  "Who?"

  "The one who killed my soldiers."

&nb
sp; "Come on, man! Let me go!"

  Happy did not respond.

  "It's not my fault your guys are dead!" Tony yelled. "It was just some woman!"

  This was Texas and Texans had guns.

  From what Frogger said this white woman was fearless. She killed indiscriminately—killed without remorse.

  Happy had been with dozens of women over his thirty-seven years, and had five children, however he hardly ever spoke to any of the mothers or his kids. Women belonged in the kitchen, waiting for their man to arrive, ready to please him with food or sex.

  Sometimes blood squirted out onto his shirt and made a mess. That was why he did this shirtless.

  Some of his soldiers were strong and muscular. Although a couple were stronger and younger than him, none of them ever dared to challenge him. No one wanted to be leader like Happy wanted it. Something he was willing to die for every minute of every day.

  Three years ago, one of his men stepped up to him, calling him out when a deal, with La Primera—another Houston street gang, went south. Happy and the disgruntled soldier fought. When it looked like Happy would lose, he bit a chunk out of the soldier's neck. The soldier bled out. Happy cut the disloyal piece of shit's heart out and held it up as if it were a trophy. He stood in front of everyone with organ in his hand. "Anybody who thinks they want this job more than me, I welcome you to try to take it from me!" Then took a bite of the heart and swallowed. He had read how American Indian tribes, in the past, cut out hearts of their slain enemies and consumed them, believing they were consuming their enemies powers.

  Happy didn't believe he consumed his enemy's powers by eating a piece of that heart. He did it because taking a bite out of that heart, scared his men. After that, no one ever challenged him.

  Looking down at Tony's pulpy face, he lost count of the number of unlucky souls that had hung there before him.

  His guys made fast work of the pig's carcass. They cut it up into manageable chunks to be taken to a junkyard and fed to the guard dogs.

  Today had turned out to be a bad day. Three of his men, all loyal to him and Triple H, were killed by a woman.

 

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