The Cost of Vengeance

by Glenn, Roy

  On the way there, I thought about drugs and Tangela House came to mind. After I saw Congressman Cantifield at Martin Marshall’s party, his assistant called me and I made arrangements to meet the congressman for lunch. Over lobster thermador and cocktails, I assured the congressman that I would be able to service all of his needs, and provide him with those services with the utmost discretion. The congressman agreed and we shook hands on our exclusive arrangement.

  Then he started going on and on about how beautiful and charming Tangela was at Marshall’s party, and how he simply had to have her. “If she’s as good as she appears, my exclusive arrangement may just be for her, all the time.” Then he laughed. “Well almost all the time.”

  Knowing that she had issues, I tried to convince him that she wasn’t quite the one, but he insisted. So against my better judgment and after a very long lecture: a warning not to blow it, I sent Tangela out on an appointment with my most important client. Thank goodness everything worked out fine that evening. But she was late for her next appointment and missed the one after that altogether.

  When she finally resurfaced the next day, I met her for dinner at Bellavitae: an Italian restaurant on Minetta Lane, between 6th Avenue and MacDougal Street. Over dinner, which, by the way, she merely picked at, Tangela explained why she had missed her appointment the night before.

  “I can’t use you, Tangela, if I can’t depend on you,” I told her when she finished her fantastic story.

  “I’m sorry, Jada. It won’t happen again,” Tangela promised and I signaled for the waiter.

  “Check, please.” Once I paid the check I stood up. “I know it won’t happen again,” I said and walked out of Bellavitae. I heard that she hooked back up with Crème, and she got her a job dancing at whatever club she was working at.

  It was after one in the morning when our cab arrived at the Waldorf. We took the elevator up the Patrick’s suite and approached the room. I took the key from Jenna and opened the door. She rushed in the room and grabbed the clutch, which was still on the coffee table. Jenna was on her way back to the door, but I had to have a look in the bathroom before I left. I opened the door slowly and peeked in. “Oh, excuse me,” I said and quickly closed the door. “Let’s go, Jenna.”

  “Is he still there?”

  “Oh, he’s in there. But he is far from dead,” I said as I walked toward the door, feeling a little a bit embarrassed about walking in on Patrick and his friend.

  As I paid the driver and got out of the cab in front of my building, I took a minute to think about the fact that Mr. Black hadn’t returned my call. And even if he had, I would once again have to place him on the back burner to take care of business. As Jenna and I walked toward the elevator, I wondered if Mr. Black had even gotten my message. Was he in the arms of another woman?

  Jealousy?

  Get a grip on yourself, Jada.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nina Thomas

  Leon went back to Jacksonville and I lied and told him that I was right behind him. I had packed up all of the stuff that I was going to take with me, and was going to have it shipped to Leon’s house. At first, my excuse was that I still had five keys that I needed to sell before I left. It wasn’t like I needed the money; I had over a quarter of a million dollars saved; I was just being a greedy bitch. Leon ended that when he said that he would buy them back for what I paid. Then my excuse became that I had to spend some time with my girls before I left.

  Since it was going to be my last night in the city, I met Teena and Shay at Jimmy’s. We planned to get sloppy drunk that night. They were both surprised when I told them that I was done with the game and was moving to Jacksonville. After she got over the shock, Shay seemed to be happy for me, but not Teena. She wasn’t tryin’ to hear it. “What you mean you done, bitch? You can’t quit,” she said.

  “Why not? We need to get out before the game turns on us,” I said.

  “Nina’s right, Teena. We had some fun, made some money, and y’all killed somebody,” she added softly. “Now it’s time to let that shit go.”

  “Okay, just tell me why you think you need to get out?” Teena asked.

  “It’s gettin’ hot. And on top of that, we moved the majority of our product through Kenyatta.”

  “We can find somebody else to run a spot for us,” Teena said.

  “And where are we gonna get product from? I asked.

  “Leon ain’t the only mutha fucka that got product. Just because that nigga wanna run scared, that don’t mean we need to quit.”

  “He ain’t running scared, Teena. He’s just looking out for me, that’s all,” I said and Teena rolled her eyes. “He just made me see that I don’t have to live the way I’m living.”

  “How you livin’ that’s so bad? ’Cause from where I’m sittin’, you livin’ pretty large.”

  “You think so?” I asked and thought about all the things I told myself. “Well let’s talk about how I’m livin’ large like you say. I’m drivin’ an old Honda Civic and I lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment in a rundown building.”

  “What you talkin’ ’bout, Nina? Your crib is laid.”

  “True, but I don’t let nobody in there but y’all, ’cause I don’t have any other friends.”

  “What other friends you need but us?” Teena asked.

  “She’s got you there, Nina. Friends are overrated,” Shay added and we drank to that.

  “I cut out all that shopping for clothes I used to do, mainly because I didn’t wear half of them anyway, because I don’t go anywhere. The only time I leave the apartment is to go to Jacksonville to get product, or when somebody calls talking about real money. I don’t have a man.”

  “They are definitely overrated,” Shay said and laughed. “Believe me, I got one.”

  “But you got one, Shay.” I looked at Teena. “And so do you.”

  “Yeah, but that nigga ain’t good for nothin’ but some dick,” Teena said.

  “My point is still the same. This is not the way I planned to live my life.”

  “So, what are we supposed to do?”

  “Just because I’m done, don’t mean y’all gotta get out. I’m just doing what’s right for me. Like you said, you can get product from somebody else and find somebody to run a spot for you,” I said.

  “No, Nina,” Shay said. “If you’re done, I am too. Besides, Gary’s been on me to give it up. He said we can move to a better house and live comfortable on what he makes at the dealership.”

  “So, not only are you out, you gonna escape to the burbs?”

  “I gotta think about my kids, Teena. Gary wants them to go to better schools,” Shay said.

  “What about me?” Teena asked.

  “What about you?” Shay asked.

  “I ain’t got no man to move out to the suburbs with and I ain’t got no school degree. What the fuck am I gonna do? You selfish bitches thought about that shit?”

  “Why don’t you come with me, Teena?”

  “And do what?”

  “I know this woman that owns a boutique and she’s thinking about retiring. When I got there, I was gonna talk to her about buying her out. You and I could be partners,” I said, thinking that it would be great to have one of my best friends down there with me.

  “I’d be bored to death sittin’ around a store all fuckin’ day. No thanks.”

  “Well the offer is out there,” I said.

  “Being bored is better than the alternative,” Shay said.

  “What’s the alternative?” Teena asked.

  “In jail or dead,” Shay said.

  The debate, which wasn’t really a debate, raged on as we tried to convince Teena that there was life after drug dealing. Eventually, I just went home and went to bed. I was going to miss them.

  We agreed that we would meet that night at Jimmy’s, and me and Teena were sitting there having a drink waiting for Shay to get there, when Jay came to the table and sat down at the table next to me. “What’s up, ladies
. I know this is a private party, but I just wanted to come by and say good-bye to you, Nina. I’m gonna miss you,” Jay said and hugged me.

  “Thank you, Jay. I’m gonna miss you too.”

  “That’s all I wanted,” Jay said and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m gonna go on and get outta here.” He started to get up. “Oh, yeah, y’all know the cops is lookin’ for Bryce, right?”

  “I didn’t even know that backstabbin’ mutha fucka was back in the city,” I said. “What they want him for?”

  “Damn. I thought y’all knew.”

  “Thought we knew what?” Teena asked.

  “He the one that killed Kenyatta.”

  “You bullshittin’?” Teena question.

  “No. That’s what the buzz is,” Jay said. “I thought y’all knew.”

  “No, Jay, we didn’t know that,” I said.

  “We didn’t know what?”

  I looked up and there was Shay, standing in front of the table, wearing a dress and pumps—Shay never wears dresses.

  “Damn,” Jay said.

  “What?” Shay asked.

  “You, bitch. What’s up wit’ you in a dress?” Teena said.

  “Damn,” Jay said again.

  “Close your mouth before you start drooling, Jay,” I said and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Damn, you got some big-ass legs, Shay,” Jay said.

  “I’m gonna assume you meant that as compliment.”

  Jay got up when he saw his woman making her way toward us. “Believe me, it was. You should bust out like that more often. Anyway, Nina, you take care of yourself,” he said and walked off.

  “So what’s up with you in a dress, Shay?”

  “I just felt like wearin’ a dress. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” she said and looked around for a waitress. “So what we didn’t know?”

  “Bryce killed Kenyatta,” Teena said.

  “No.”

  “That’s what Jay just told us; said the cops is looking for him,” I told her.

  “I forgot to tell y’all, but I saw him the other day,” Shay said.

  “What was he talkin’ ’bout?” Teena wanted to know.

  “Nothing. Just talkin’ shit about how fine I was lookin’ and how he always thought I was fine, and that he should have got with me before I got married. You know, his usual bullshit. Ain’t that some shit? That nigga was smilin’ in my face and he killed Kenyatta.”

  “That’s the kind of snake-ass, backstabbin’, bitch-ass nigga he is,” I said. I hated Bryce and this just gave me one more reason to hate his ass. I tried not to let it get me too upset though. This was my last night with my girls and I wasn’t gonna let my hatred for Bryce Tyler ruin it for us. We spent the rest of the night drinking, eating chicken wings, and reminiscing about all the good times we had together. We left Jimmy’s with the intention of rolling by Teena’s to smoke a blunt, but all that changed when I walked outside and saw Bryce walking across the street from Jimmy’s.

  “There that snake-ass bitch go,” Teena said.

  “I see him. You got your gun, Teena?”

  “What you gonna do, Nina?” Shay asked as Teena got her gun out.

  “Give it to me,” I demanded.

  “What you gonna do, Nina?” Shay asked again.

  Teena handed me the gun and I put one in the chamber. “What somebody should have done a long time ago,” I said and started across the street. Teena was right beside me.

  “No,” Shay said.

  I looked back at her. “Go get the car, Shay.”

  While Shay hurried off to get the car, me and Teena walked up on Bryce. I hid in a doorway and Teena called out to Bryce and tried to get him to come toward me. If that didn’t work, I was just gonna start shooting and hope every bullet found its mark.

  It worked.

  Bryce stopped and came back toward Teena. As soon as he was close enough, I stepped out and placed the gun to the back of his head. Teena took his gun just as Shay pulled up in the car. I walked Bryce to the car and we got in. “Where y’all takin’ me?” the bitch wanted to know.

  “To the killin’ floor,” I said.

  Shay must have known exactly what I was talking about, because she drove straight to Kenyatta’s old spot. When we got there, we walked Bryce in and took him to the same apartment that we killed Shantia Lewis in. Teena pulled the police tape from the door and went in.

  As soon as we were inside, Bryce turned around quickly and tried to get the gun from me. While we wrestled for it, Shay tried to rush Bryce. He kicked her and she fell. Bryce got the gun away from me. He punched me in the face and pushed me to the floor. Teena came running at him and he shot her. I heard Teena scream and she dropped her gun. When I looked I saw Teena on the floor and I went to get her gun. Shay got up and went at Bryce, but he grabbed Shay around the neck and held the gun to her head. “Get back, Nina, or I’ll put a hole in her head,” Bryce said and I stopped. “Now! Right over there.”

  I backed away and moved to where Teena was lying on the floor. “Teena, you okay?” I asked and shook her, but she didn’t answer. “Teena!” I shook her again and started to cry. I yelled her name over and over, but it was too late—Teena was dead.

  I looked at Shay. Bryce pressed the barrel against her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. He began running his hand over Shay’s breasts and squeezing them. He pulled up her dress and was feeling her ass and legs.

  Shay jerked when he stuck his hand in her panties and reached between her legs. “You move again, Shay, and I’ll kill you.” Bryce looked at me. “And that goes for you, too, Nina. You move and I’ll kill her,” Bryce said and ripped off her panties. Shay tried to get away, but he pulled her back and began unbuckling his pants.

  He pushed Shay over and put the gun to the back of her head. I couldn’t believe that he was going to rape her right in front of me. He forced himself inside her and Shay screamed. “Shut up!”

  Shay closed her eyes and I just hoped that it would be over for her soon; and I wished that I had never gotten us into this. Teena was dead and Shay was being raped because I wanted to kill Bryce so badly. I should have shot him right there on the street, and now I wished I had.

  When suddenly Bryce began hitting Shay in the head with the gun. I rolled over quickly and went for the gun. I picked up the gun and held it to his head. “Hit her again and I’ll blow your head off.”

  Bryce stopped punching and dropped the gun. Shay snatched the gun from my hand. “Mutha fucka!” she screamed and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him in the chest and Bryce went down. Shay stood over him and I watched as Shay fired three more shots in him.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Shay nodded her head and we walked over to Teena’s body. “We can’t leave her here,” Shay said, and our tears began to flow. We picked up her body and carried it to the car. As we drove away, I couldn’t stop thinking that sometimes, the cost of vengeance is too high.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mike Black

  “It’s Victor,” Bobby said and handed me the phone.

  “What’s up?”

  “Sorry to bother you, but I just got a call from Jada West,” Victor said and I sat up a little straighter.

  “What did Ms. West say?” I asked and Bobby cut his eyes at me.

  “She wants you to call her whenever you have time. She said to assure you that it’s nothing important,” Victor said.

  “Thanks,” I said and ended the call. I handed Bobby back his phone.

  “So what’s up with you and the happy hooker?”

  “Nothing. She just wants to talk to me.”

  Bobby didn’t say anything; he just kept looking in my direction as he drove.

  “What?”

  “If you say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.”

  “Then why are you staring at me?”

  “I’m just waitin’ to see if you’re gonna tell me the truth,” Bobby said and finally looked where he was driving.

  “
What truth?”

  “Nothing, Mike. So when do I get to meet Ms. West? Or are you keeping her away from me for a reason?”

  “I tried to get you to ride with me last time I went over there. You told me to take Victor.” I looked at Bobby. “Okay, I am interested in her. But what I’m more interested in, is her recruitin’ a better class of women to work for Jamaica in Nassau.”

  “I knew it was something,” Bobby said and his phone rang. He looked at the display and smiled. “Hey, baby. I was just . . .” he began, and then his expression changed. “What? Slow down, baby.”

  Whatever was being said wasn’t good.

  “Okay, okay, don’t cry, Barbara. Just put your mother on the phone,” Bobby said and made a U-turn that almost caused an accident. Barbara was his oldest daughter. She was eleven years old and very much daddies little girl. “No, no, don’t hang up. Give your mother the phone!” he practically shouted, and then threw the phone down and stepped on the gas.

  “What’s wrong, Bobby?”

  “Pam is leaving and she’s taking my kids.”

  I believed, and at the same time couldn’t believe, what I was hearing. Pam was leaving. I know the last time I talked to her she didn’t sound good. “I’m just sick and tired of his bitches callin’ the house. I can’t go through this again, Mike,” Pam said to me the last time we talked.

  “I understand, Pam. And you shouldn’t have to. But Bobby told me it was just a misunderstanding. He didn’t even know that woman like that.”

  “That’s the same bullshit he told me,” Pam said calmly; in a voice that I hadn’t heard since the night she killed Cat and Melinda. “And if that’s the case, why does this bitch keep calling here? I can’t go through this again, Mike.”

  “I know, Pam,” I said, and I knew she was gonna do something, but I didn’t think she would leave him and take the kids.