Chasing Bliss

by Sabrina A. Eubanks

  Khadijah appeared in the doorway, shocked into speechlessness, with her mouth hanging open.

  “Chase! Holler at me, or I’m gonna blow this nigger away! You all right?” J.T. yelled.

  Chase’s face was contorted in pain, and he was clutching the front of his jacket in both fists like he was going to rip it off. His breath was whistling in and out like he was having an asthma attack.

  Cyrus watched Chase as he pushed away from Corey and struggled to his knees. He was unmoved. He lackadaisically took another swig out of the bottle and sat down next to Khalid, not really caring that J.T. now had his own gun pointed at him. He didn’t know what everyone was so upset about. Everyone there knew how Chase usually handled his business.

  Chase made it to his knees, unzipped his jacket, and pulled his T-shirt up. He looked down at the bullet embedded in the Kevlar, with a total look of shock on his face.

  Cyrus smiled; he was about 99.9 percent certain Chase would be wearing a vest. He’d been hoping there was some small chance he wasn’t, but it was there.

  “Oh thank God!” Corey said and helped Chase to his feet.

  Chase held the vest away from his chest like it was hot. He was standing, but he couldn’t get his breath back. He dropped back to his knees against his will and hugged his chest.

  Cyrus smirked. That shit must’ve really hurt. Good.

  Corey hovered over him indecisively.

  “Don’t stand over him like that, Corey. He just got the wind knocked out of him, that’s all. He’ll be all right in a minute,” Cyrus said.

  Khalid looked at Cyrus and shook his head.

  Cyrus shrugged. Whatever.

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t be sittin’ there lookin’ so unconcerned. I might be thinkin’ about tryin’ to get my ass anywhere Chase is not right about now.”

  Cyrus had to think that maybe it was a good idea.

  Chase gasped loudly and finally got up under his own power. He pointed his finger at Cyrus. “I can’t believe you took it there, Cyrus.”

  Cyrus stood up and shrugged again. “You took it there first.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  Cyrus was a little shocked when Chase didn’t come at him. In fact, he wouldn’t even look at him. He just brushed past Khadijah and left the apartment, and he didn’t even slam the door on his way out.

  J.T. clicked the safety on and handed him his gun. “You reap what you sow, Cyrus.”

  “You can shut up, too, J.T.”

  Corey moved to leave with J.T.

  “Where you goin’, Corey?” When he asked the question, Cyrus received the most malignant look he’d ever gotten from his youngest brother.

  “Chase was right about you, Cyrus,” said Corey as he walked out right behind Chase.

  Khalid looked at Cyrus like he’d just thrown a major piece of his machinery. “That shit was wrong, Cy…and damn stupid.”

  Cyrus took another swig of Hennessey. “I know,” he said, and then he sat back on the sofa with Khalid and waited for Monty to come.

  Chapter 18

  Chase’s chest was on fire. He thought it would have subsided by now, and in a way it had. It wasn’t a bright, hot, pain anymore; it had ebbed into a dull burn. He frowned. It felt like…like he’d been shot in the fucking chest.

  Whenever Chase went on a run to take someone out—someone like Wolf—he usually wore a Kevlar vest, because he knew people like Wolf usually weren’t alone when he snuffed them. People like Wolf usually had at least two enforcers watching their asses real hard. Sometimes that made it difficult to get in, but Chase was tenacious, and he always found a way. It was a good thing he’d worn the vest this time, or else he’d have been pushing up daisies.

  He winced, and not just from the pain. He knew a shot like that would leave one hell of a bruise, and he wasn’t in a big hurry to find out what Bliss was going to say about that. He was going back on his word to her already, but he was doing it for a damned good reason—and that reason wasn’t Cyrus.

  In spite of his issues with Cyrus, he was still going to take Wolf out. After all, he’d never lived his life looking over his shoulder, and he damned sure wasn’t going to have Bliss, Corey, and J.T. looking over theirs. He’d done enough damage at the club—and especially in that alley—to make Wolf feel the need to exact some serious retribution.

  Chase was not about to lie in the cut and wait till he was ambushed. He wasn’t going to give Wolf time to plot and scheme. Instead, he’d find Wolf’s sorry ass and take him out ASAP. Tonight, he thought. Tonight I’ll finally take the head off the monster.

  Chase was currently in his Charger with J.T. and Corey, parked on Central Avenue, waiting for Baby Hustle to show his ass up. He had found him earlier and told him to keep his ear to the ground for Wolf’s whereabouts, which Baby was keen to do for a little more drug money and a few more promises of protection.

  “I don’t fuckin’ believe Cyrus shot you like that,” Corey said from the backseat.

  Considering it was about the tenth time Chase had heard that shit, he sighed heavily and rubbed his chest, tired of hearing about it. “Let it go, Corey. Just let it go.”

  But Corey was like a dog with a bone. “I can’t, Chase. Cyrus would have shot me if you hadn’t stepped in the way, and I ain’t wearin’ no vest. He must hate us. He wanted to kill us.”

  J.T. drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Y’all know what I think? I think maybe Cyrus hates everybody, Cyrus included.”

  “Well, I’m done with him either way. I ain’t tryin’ to worry about my own brother looking to grease me,” Corey said.

  “Speakin’ of brothers greasin’ brothers,” J.T. started, looking at Chase curiously, “Cyrus has got to be the only nigger in the world left livin’ after pullin’ a gun on you. Why’d you walk away, Chase? Just because he is your brother?”

  “This ain’t over, J.T. Don’t sleep on me. I’m tryin’ to be good about it and respect our dead mother’s memory, but it’s not forgiven or forgotten. Remember, Cain killed Abel, and those two were brothers. If I don’t hurry and get away from him, he’s gonna make me kill his ass. Like I said before, he must have forgotten who he’s fuckin’ with.”

  J.T. nodded, and Corey kept silent. “I ain’t mad at ya, Chase,” J.T. said.

  Chase wasn’t mad at him either. He knew if Cyrus had really hurt him, J.T. would have blown his ass away. “Good. Since you ain’t mad, what are you doin’ next Saturday?”

  “I got a clean slate. What’s up?”

  Chase turned his head, and that hurt like a bitch too. “What about you, Corey?”

  “If you need me, I’m free.”

  “Well, I do, Corey. I need both of you, ‘cause I’m marryin’ Bliss.”

  J.T. grinned at him. “Wow! That’s what’s hot.”

  “Get the fuck outta here!” Corey said, like Chase was yanking his chain. “You sure you’ve known Bliss long enough to wife her?”

  Chase smiled. “I’ve been wantin’ to wife her since I splashed her skirt, Corey.”

  “Damn, that’s deep. We’ll be wherever you need us to be. And congrats, man,” J.T. said.

  “Yeah, that’s real nice, Chase. I’m happy for y’all.”

  Chase looked out the window. “Thanks. I’ll give you the details later. Here comes Baby.”

  Baby pedaled toward them—a grown man on a little kid’s bike that he probably stole—and stopped at Chase’s window.

  Chase got out of the car and leaned with his back against the door.

  Baby got off his bike. “Hey, Smoke.”

  “Hey, Baby. What you got for me?”

  Baby Hustle put one hand on his hip and scratched his chin. He looked at Chase with serious eyes. “I guess it sort of goes without sayin’ that Wolf knows you lookin’ for him, Smoke.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. You seen him?”

  “Saw him more than once. He’s lookin’ for you, too, you know.”

  “Kinda figured that.”

  “I
saw the news. That was some shit, Smoke.”

  Chase shrugged. “Shit happens, Baby. Where’s the last place you saw him?”

  Baby looked a little uncomfortable with the question. He looked at his feet and ran a hand over his mouth.

  Chase raised an eyebrow. Baby seemed a little stuck, and Chase was not above dangling the money he’d brought for him like a carrot. The clock was ticking, and he needed Baby to spit it out. “You okay, Baby? Where’s he at?”

  Baby tore his eyes away from his feet and looked at Chase. “Well, you know I got a baby sister named Vida, right?”

  Chase nodded; he knew Baby’s sister.

  Baby squinted through his disloyalty. “Well, Wolf is cheatin’ on his wife with my baby sister. I ain’t gonna tell you where they at unless you promise me you won’t kill her too.”

  Chase looked at him sideways. “It ain’t your sister I’m interested in, Baby.”

  Baby looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay. They’re holed up at Vida’s place. He’ll probably be there all night. He had two niggas with him earlier, parked outside in a Yukon, but I ain’t seen ‘em for two hours. I ain’t see nobody but Wolf and Vida go inside.” He gave Chase an address on Evergreen Avenue.

  Chase nodded, picturing the houses and the layout of the street in his head. “Thanks, Baby,” He reached into his pocket and handed him a knot of cash. “I promise not to kill your sister, Baby.”

  Baby looked at the cash. “You good to me, Smoke.”

  Chase nodded. “You earn it. See you later, Baby.” Chase watched him get on his little circus bike and ride away. Then he got back into the car and looked at J.T. “It seems fairly simple. Nigga’s either that stupid or that fuckin’ arrogant. He’s at Baby’s sister’s house, layin’ up. Seems like his dumb ass even sent his protection home.”

  “Bad move,” J.T. said. “What’s the address?”

  They drove over to Evergreen Avenue and past the house, keeping with the normal flow of traffic.

  “Did you get it?” J.T. asked, pulling over in the next block.

  “Got it,” Chase answered. He pulled the cuffs of his sleeves down over the tops of his gloves and put his shades back on. “Park in the middle of the next block, J.T. Corey, you stay in the backseat. Don’t you get out of this car, you hear me?”

  “I hear you” Corey answered laconically and slouched down in his seat.

  Chase looked back at J.T. “If it seems like I’m takin’ too long, pull out and start circling. I’ll flag you down when you’re comin’ through. If you see or hear a lot of shots bein’ fired by a lot of people, don’t stop. Just keep goin’…and tell Bliss I love her.”

  “I got you,” J.T. said.

  “Be careful, Chase. In and out,” Corey added.

  Chase turned his head and smiled at his little brother. “That’s why they call me Smoke, Corey. See you soon.”

  Chase stepped out of the car, pulled his cap down, and put his hands in his pockets. He walked fast, though not overly so, keeping close to the shadows, away from the street lamps. It was ten thirty, so it was truly night, which made him a lot more comfortable. There were people out, but nobody seemed to be checking for him. Chase, as usual, was looking everywhere at once, and his mind was working overtime.

  The houses were two- and three-family homes. He wasn’t worried about getting in; rather, he was worried about getting out. Vida lived on the second floor, which he thought might present a problem. Chase had literally jumped from a second floor on more than a few occasions without causing major damage, but it always left a few marks, and on this occasion, he was already hurt. He wasn’t trying to kill himself. Bearing this in mind, he knew his most likely way out would be back through the front door.

  He looked around quickly and went up the stoop. He knew from Baby that Vida’s door was on the left. Chase slipped his tools out of his back pocket and quickly picked the lock on the storm door. He pulled it open slowly, hoping like hell it didn’t squeak. He didn’t need much room—just enough to get in—and to his relief, the door stayed silent. He picked the bottom lock on the front door easily and then went for the one on the top. It came open easily, but with an audible click. Chase froze and listened, waiting a full thirty seconds before he proceeded.

  Chase stepped into the small foyer soundlessly. He fixed the storm door so it wouldn’t lock behind him then pushed the front door almost closed. Chase started up the long flight of stairs in front of him. He got to the top without making a sound, but there he was faced with yet another door. He opened the top lock quickly and silently and pushed the door open slowly, expecting and finding a safety chain. Chase started grinning slow; he couldn’t help himself. I got a tool for this! Chase took out a small retractable hook and took the chain off. He slipped his tools back into his pocket, and tucked his lips in to stop grinning.

  When he stepped into the apartment, he put his back against the wall, surveying the room. Wolf and Vida were obviously having a romantic evening. There were candles everywhere, and rose petals were strewn across the room. There was a gold platter of half-eaten chocolate-covered strawberries, half a bottle of champagne, and two empty glasses on the coffee table.

  Chase moved into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the candlelight. He cocked his head in the direction of a small sound he heard coming from his right. He smiled, knowing he hadn’t been mistaken. The bedsprings were singing…loud. Wolf was tearin’ Vida’s ass up! Chase walked over to the open bedroom door and took his razor out. He peeked in and couldn’t believe his luck. Both their backs were to him because Wolf had Vida up on her knees, letting her have it doggie style. Chase opened his razor and stepped into the room.

  Wolf and Vida never stopped fucking; they didn’t even hear him. Chase took his shades off and put them in his pocket. He pushed his cap back so Wolf could see his face and stood next to him to his right. Chase was grinning. “Nothin’ like dyin’ in a nice piece of ass, huh, Wolf?”

  Wolf’s eyes flew open, and he stopped mid stroke. “Oh shit. Oh shit! Smoke!”

  Vida turned her head and started screaming.

  Chase started laughing. “Stop fucking!” Chase yelled at him. He pushed Vida away from Wolf with his knee and grabbed Wolf’s considerable manhood with his left hand.

  Vida scrambled away from them and pressed herself into the headboard, screaming in short bursts, like she was too damned scared to let out a full-blown shriek.

  Chase’s right hand came up brutally under Wolf’s balls. Candlelight glimmered briefly on the ultra-sharp blade of his razor before it separated Wolf from his engorged genitalia. Wolf howled as Chase threw his severed penis across the room. It hit the wall with a small thud and fell to the floor. Blood spurted from the place it had been, soaking the sheets. Vida was still doing that choked screaming until Chase clipped her under the chin, still holding his razor. “Shut up, Vida,” he said as her lights went out.

  Wolf, meanwhile, had fallen off the bed, onto his back, his hands clutching for something that was no longer a part of him. He stopped screaming and started making great gasping, whooping sounds—sounds of absolute shock and terror.

  Chase leaned over him, careful to avoid the warm crimson spray. “Hey, aren’t you married?” he asked curiously.

  “F-fuck you, Smoke!” Wolf stuttered.

  Chase slashed his right Achilles’ tendon. “Wrong answer! I asked you if you are married. It’s a simple yes-or-no question, motherfucker!”

  Wolf burst into tears. “Please, man. Pl-please don’t—”

  “Fuck you. Answer me!” He slashed his other tendon.

  Wolf screamed through his tears. “Yes! Yes! Please!”

  Chase laughed like he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. “Well, your cheatin’ ass just earned a scarlet letter!” he yelled and slashed a capital A in the man’s chest.

  “You’re fuckin’ crazy!” Wolf screamed.

  Chase nodded, grinning maniacally. “You goddamned right! Die, you troublesome mot
herfucker!” Chase stuck his razor behind Wolf’s ear and dragged it deeply across his carotid artery. Blood gushed out in a red-hot deluge, spurting and spraying with each remaining pump of Wolf’s heart. Chase didn’t remove his razor until it dug into Wolf’s collarbone. He wiped the blood on the bed sheet and sprinted out the door and down the stairs.

  He was so full of adrenaline that his ears were humming. He took the stairs two at a time and raced out the front door, making himself a blur. Chase sprinted through oncoming traffic and into the next block. He slowed to a trot, and J.T. threw the passenger door open. Chase got into the car, and J.T. pulled smoothly into traffic.

  “He gone?” J.T. asked.

  Chase’s smile was gone; he was coming down. “He’s a fuckin’ memory. I don’t feel good. Take me home, J.T.” Chase stripped his gloves off, and Corey put his hand on his shoulder. Chase sighed heavily and put his hand over Corey’s. “I’m sorry, Corey. I’m a really bad person.”

  “You’re my brother, Chase.”

  Chase blinked and nodded. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m a bad person who does atrocious things—but I guess that doesn’t matter as long as Wolf is dead, right?” Chase wasn’t mad when neither one of them answered him.

  They drove back to Chase’s loft in relative silence, only stopping to get rid of Chase’s bloody gloves and his jacket. J.T. parked Chase’s Charger in the garage and took Corey home in his own vehicle.

  Chase rode the elevator up to his loft and stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water. He felt terrible. His head hurt, his chest hurt, and he was tired as hell. More than that, he had to wonder, Who the fuck was that guy who snuffed Wolf? Do I even know him? Chase was not going to kid himself about the level of violence he’d displayed. It was gruesome and horrendous. Wolf may not have been a poster child for goodness, but no one deserved to die that hard or that terrified. Chase had lost control and tortured him. Chase’s brow creased with a worried frown. Who the fuck is living in my head? This shit is scary. He knew that was what Cyrus didn’t understand about him.