The Banks Sisters 2

by Nikki Turner

  With tensions running high, they all waited for a response from Deidra, but received none. Ginger had no more words for his conniving mother. She’d used him and his credit card scams constantly, without any remorse if he got arrested; so be it. Not even bothering to put a single penny on his books, Ginger knew what she was doing now there was no coming back from. Me-Ma was dead and gone, and as far as he was concerned, from this point on, Deidra was as well.

  “Ginger, I done told you a million times to stop counting on Momma to change. She wasn’t about shit when we was growing up and damn straight about shit now. But I got something for that ass . . . something real serious.” Simone’s feet were firmly planted where she stood. Still up in Lenny’s face, she didn’t blink or miss a beat. “Bunny, you and Ginger pick up that money off the floor and put it back in the bags!”

  “Hold up, Simone.” Bunny raised her eyebrow in protest.

  “Naw, sis, I got this; just get the money!”

  “Now you talking like you got some damn sense.” Deidra, shiftless in her intentions, finally spoke. “Run me my bread; every damn penny!”

  Allowing the over-the-top garbage her mother was yacking about to roll off her back, Simone continued telling her siblings what to do. “Bunny, y’all just get all the cash together that’s on the floor. And, Tallhya, why don’t you go make sure the front door is locked and come right back. Me and Mr. Gun-Toting Lenny right here got some unfinished business to handle.”

  Despite objections from Me-Ma, Deidra lived her life in the streets since she was a young teen. Seasoned to the game, she knew if you were trying to pull a stunt, run a scam, or plot on a scheme, you needed to be in and out as soon as possible. She knew the more time you spent living in the eye of the storm, the more chances your shit could fall apart. Unfortunately, her bank-robbing daughters knew the same thing; especially Simone. Knowing her mother was capable of snitching to the police if she didn’t get her way, Simone knew she had to make a move to make that impossible. Although there was a strong possibility she could have cancer, she’d much rather fight that deadly beast disease than face a judge and whatever part of her life that was left on the earth locked up behind bars. Once again, thanks to her father giving her advance knowledge of firearms, Simone could easily see the once-powerful machine gun her mother’s boyfriend-wannabe-henchman was holding was inoperable. The old relic may have been intimidating to some; however, Simone had been through too much over the past few weeks to be scared by a “dummy gun.” She’d let her once-beloved mother have her say, but it was time to turn the tables.

  “I don’t know what you trying to say or do, but my man ain’t gonna have no dealings with you whatsoever unless you thinking about putting ya hands on me!”

  Simone’s voice remained the same as she informed her mother what was to come next. “Believe me, for real—for real—not one of us want to touch you; at least not yet. But this motherfucker right here,” she pointed her finger in Lenny’s nervous face, “he about to see what it feels like to have a real Banks sister on his ass! I’m done being nice.” Using both hands, she suddenly shoved Lenny’s small wiry frame into the side of the refrigerator. Not scared of him pulling the trigger on the faulty weapon he was holding, Simone snatched it out of his sweaty hands before he knew what had taken place.

  “Holding this old shit that don’t even fire no more! I told you my mother was gonna get you hurt out in these streets! If she don’t give a fuck about her own kids, you think she give a shit about you getting thrown under the bus? Stupid-ass motherfucker!”

  Seizing the opportunity, Ginger stepped in, transforming into Gene in a matter of seconds. Delivering blow after blow closed-fist punches to the older man’s face and chest area, Ginger broke two of her perfectly manicured nails off into Lenny’s rib cage. Practically stomping the cheap wine out of Lenny’s skin, Tallhya joined in the free-for-all melee as Bunny collared their mother up.

  “Let me go, bitch! Let me the fuck go!”

  “Naw, Deidra. You wanted to be here at Me-Ma’s house so bad like you running thangs . . . well, welcome your black ass home.” Bunny wrapped one hand up in Deidra’s T-shirt collar and the other around her neck. She’d been waiting a lifetime to show and tell her mother how she truly felt, and today was as perfect a time as any. Unlike her partner in crime Lenny, Deidra tried to buck but was immediately shut down by Bunny’s hands tightening around her throat. “You got some random-ass Negro in here pointing a gun at us? Talking like shit is easy, like thangs ain’t hard enough on us! You ain’t coming up on shit, bitch!”

  Deidra struggled to speak as her mouth grew increasingly dry. “I swear to God if you don’t let me go, you gonna regret it!”

  “What, Momma?” Tallhya growled from across the room after seeing yet another kick into Lenny’s bleeding mouth. “What you gonna do to us that you ain’t already did? Abandon us? Lie to us? Cheat us out of our birthday gifts from other family members? Berate us and everything we try to do? What’s left, Momma? Huh? What’s left? You wanna go dig up Me-Ma’s body so you can spit in her face? You foul! I hope Bunny chokes the life outta your ass!”

  After making sure Lenny was unable to stand on his own, Ginger, using the manly strength he was born with, dragged him over to the basement door as instructed by Simone. Having no remorse for the beating the fool, Ginger let his battered, bruised body fall recklessly down the old wooded stairs. After hearing the distinct sound of him reaching the bottom, they each paused. Snatching a butcher knife out of the drawer, Simone knew her two sisters had Deidra covered. Holding the shiny blade up to her face, she made sure it was razor sharp. Tilting her head to the side, the nice-sister-now-turned-bad signaled for Ginger to follow her into the basement.

  CHAPTER THREE

  As much as she wanted to, Bunny loosened her grip, not wanting to actually kill her own mother. As Deidra fought off the disorientation of being close to death, Tallhya closed her eyes, trying relentlessly to not have one of her panic attacks. Fanning her hand in front her face in an attempt to get some added air flow, she started crying out for Walter’s cheating self. Bunny grabbed a sales paper off the table and started waving it in Tallhya’s face, begging her to calm down and take deep breaths.

  “You bitches gonna pay for treating me like this. And them motherfuckers better not hurt my man anymore! Lenny! Lenny!” The mother of four shouted toward the basement door. “Hold on, love, I’m coming!”

  “Shut your mouth! For once, shut your motherfucking ratchet-ass mouth. Don’t you see your child is going through something right now, and you calling out for some man?” Bunny frowned at Deidra, who was still down on the floor. “I promise it should’ve been you and not Me-Ma in that casket! A million of you ain’t worth half of the woman she was.”

  Deidra had not an ounce of compassion for her children and their various troubles. Matter of fact, since they were treating her like what she felt was garbage, she decided to add more heart wrenching fuel to the fire. “Wow, Bunny, tell me how you really feel.” She rubbed her sore neck as she spit more venom. “And, Tallhya, I don’t know why you crying out for that no-good husband of yours while y’all talking about me running behind some man. I had a taste of that young, curved, uncircumcised dick a few months back. Yeah, when I caught him out at the club with that bisexual dead baby momma of his; showboating hard. I figured with the courtesy of you.”

  “What?” Puzzled, Tallhya’s mouth went dry, as if she was hearing wrong.

  “Yup, baby girl, we all partied together off your money and freaked until daybreak.” Deidra had no shame exposing a few more hurtful truths. “I mean, the dick wasn’t all bad, but it sure ain’t worth clowning over. Hell, you might wanna look his baby moms up and let her eat your pussy. She sho’ got better skills than Walter do!” A smile spread across her face. She knew exactly what she was doing—throwing rocks at a glass house.

  Stunned at what she’d just heard, Tallhya’s anxiety level increased as did her anger. It was bad enough her suppo
sed loyal husband had an illegitimate baby with some tramp. And even worse, he’d admittedly stolen her lottery winnings. But now the bum allegedly had sex with her own mother, of all people. If what disgusting acts Deidra claimed were indeed true, that thought alone was more than the average strong-minded person could stand. Tallhya was fragile. Since being served divorce papers, the immediate family knew she wasn’t in the mental state to endure any further emotional blows and tried to shield her from as much unwarranted bullshit as possible. Strangely, helping her siblings rob the bank earlier was some twisted sort of empowerment for her. Tallhya was actually feeling good about herself. It was hard, but she was willing to accept the reality she and Walter were over. Now, Deidra had the nerve to show up and drop this cruel bombshell. Divorcing the backstabbing creep was hard enough, but this betrayal was adding insult to injury.

  “You know you the damn devil, don’t you?” Bunny fumed, knowing her sister had to be devastated.

  “You just better be lucky I ain’t get a hold of that fine-ass Spoe. I would’ve really given his dead stickup ass a run for his money—guaranteed.”

  Slowly easing to the other side of the kitchen, Tallhya oozed with resentment. Her legs were numb. Her broken heart raced as she saw red. Pulling the oven door down, she kept her eyes focused on Deidra who was now preoccupied once again taunting Bunny’s recent tragic loss of Spoe. Her mother had to pay for her sins. The injured-emotions daughter saw no other way to make things right. Reaching her hand inside the oven, Tallhya removed one of her grandmother’s favorite black cast-iron skillets she’d cook freshwater corn bread in. Raising it high over her head, her fingers tightened. The mentally distraught female’s taste for revenge increased. Wanting to silence any more spellbinding revelations, Tallhya brought the heavy cookware crashing down onto the side of her mother’s evil face. Hearing the certain sound of her jawbone crack, coupled with Deidra’s agonizing pleas for mercy, Tallhya felt vindicated after the verbal tirade she’d just suffered at the hands of her wicked-minded mother. Dropping the skillet to the floor, Tallhya didn’t say a word. She just stood there; frozen in some sort of a trance.

  “Sis,” Bunny loudly whispered, attempting to get Tallhya to snap out of it. After a few seconds, she called out to her sister once more, this time shaking her shoulder. Receiving no response, Bunny had no choice but to leave her standing zombied out in the middle of the kitchen floor. She’d have to deal with Tallhya and this episode later.

  With blood leaking out Deidra’s mouth and nose, and her face expanding twice its normal size, Bunny knew she had to get her down in the basement with her cohort Lenny as soon as possible. As Deidra squirmed around on the floor getting louder, Bunny didn’t want any nosy neighbors or members from Me-Ma’s congregation to show up unannounced. It’d certainly not be a good look if they discovered what atrocities were taking place in their beloved matriarch’s home.

  Quickly retrieving a damp dish towel by the sink, Bunny stuffed it into Deidra’s mouth, warning her to shut the fuck up or risk far worse pain. Easily telling her mother’s jaw was indeed broken, she was able to jam more of the cloth inside than would be normally possible. Leaning over, she grabbed one of Deidra’s feet. Bunny wished she could order a now-bewildered Tallhya to lift the other, but knew at this point she was on her own. Dragging their still-feisty mom across the kitchen floor, Bunny opened the basement door. Yelling for Simone and Ginger to get out of the way, Bunny gave Deidra the same fate as Lenny: a trip down the wooden stairs, face-first.

  * * *

  Propped up against a cardboard box of Christmas tree decorations, Lenny was motionless. The inch-long gash on his head, courtesy of the fall, continued to spew blood at a rapid pace. Having broken several teeth when his mouth slammed down onto the concrete floor, Lenny’s lips were split open as well. Stepping on the small sharp pieces of his yellow, plaque-stained dental, Simone was in total survival mode as she inhaled the stale dampness of the basement. Her mother’s flavor of the month had the nerve to not only be in cahoots with her, but hold them at gunpoint as well. For that, justice would be swift. The beat down he got and the free trip down a flight of stairs was only a small bit of punishment. With the aid of a few old extension cords, she tightly tied his arms. Having cut up a few bedsheets that were hanging on the clothesline, Simone instructed Ginger to wrap the cloth around their nemesis’s head so he wouldn’t leak his germ-infested fluids all over the place.

  “What we gonna do with him, girl?” Ginger was eager to follow her sister’s lead. She’d masterminded them getting away with robbing the bank, so she’d earned the right to call the shots.

  “We gonna do what we have to do; to him and Momma—that’s what!” Simone showed no weakness glancing toward the top of the stairs as they heard a small bit of commotion. “We risked everything to get that money up there, and this ignorant fool and Momma ain’t gonna take it—let alone get us knocked. I ain’t trying to go to jail no time soon. Is you?”

  “Hell, fuck, naw! Whatever you say, I’m down. I’m rolling with you.” Getting incarcerated for armed robbery was not on her to-do list. Ginger had plans of going on a few elaborate shopping sprees and updating her vehicle. Her share of the money was going to enable her to live life to the fullest . . . drama free. Unlike her sisters, Ginger had absolutely no man problems or health issues at hand. Bunny was mourning Spoe’s sudden demise. Tallhya was getting divorced from Walter’s conniving ass, and Simone was falling in love with Detective Dugan, and unbeknownst to anyone, possibly had cancer. The illegal revenue was a much-needed distraction for them, and Deidra and Lenny would not become glitches in the system. Just as Simone and Ginger ensured Lenny couldn’t break free from his makeshift restraints, the top door opened. Seconds later, Deidra, unceremoniously, made her way down the stairs to join her man.

  Moving out of the way just in the nick of time, Simone dodged her mother’s body that haphazardly flew down the stairs. Seeing it hit the floor, her limbs flung around like an old rag doll Me-Ma had sitting in the corner of the living room for decoration.

  “Damn, girl! What in the hell happened to her head and face?” Simone’s concern was short-lived when Bunny filled her in on what she’d said to Tallhya pertaining to Walter. Having had enough of her mother’s evil spirit and everything that came with it, Simone had Ginger tie a still-dish-rag-gagged Deidra up with the remaining part of the shredded sheet they’d used on Lenny’s head wounds.

  “Okay, y’all,” she announced seeing both of their problems were temporarily put on hold, “these assholes ain’t calling the damn police on anybody no time soon, let alone spending any of our money. Now, let’s go back upstairs and check on Tallhya.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was the crack of dawn. Detective Dugan had been up all night pressing the forensics team on any reports of additional evidence that could link others to the high-profile bank robbery. After making a positive identification of Ghostman aka Marky Amadeo, he knew this case was about to take him in several different directions all at one time. The deceased was not only involved in robbing banks but was implicated in over a dozen drug-related homicides, to boot. Ghostman was a well-known and connected Italian criminal in the underground world of the city of Richmond. When word spread of his sudden demise, Detective Dugan got call after call from his paid informants, giving him an update on what the streets were saying. While most believed a rival bloodthirsty drug gang originating from New York, the Bloody Lions Posse run by the infamous dread named Dino, had set him up, others rumored it was one of the many strippers he ran with. Maybe even the one whose name the condo was listed in. Wherever the complicated case might take him, a connection with Simone and her family never once crossed his mind.

  “Thanks for putting a rush on the items. You know the FBI and the ATF are waiting for us to drop the ball.” He stretched and yawned, trying his best to fight sleep.

  “No problem, Chase. I got your back.” One of the guys from the forensics department handed him several huge ma
nila-colored envelopes. “And just so you know, we got some partial prints of someone other than our deceased gunman. We’re trying to see if we can get a hit through the computers.”

  “Oh yeah?” He felt more optimistic about not needing the FBI or the ATF’s assistance to solve the multiple cases.... If he’d only known the key factors to closing all the cases were just a phone call away to Simone.

  “Yeah, man. I’ll keep you posted. I’m on it. The chief is on my back too.”

  Having received the discovered android cell phone back from the forensics team, Detective Dugan studied each picture in the gallery, realizing none of the photos belonged to Ghostman. Without hesitation, he knew he’d seen the face in most of the pictures recently on the evening news. It became quickly apparent the cell phone seized from the wall safe belonged to the young man whose body was washed up along the bank of the James River, a well-known dumping ground drug dealers used to dispose of bodies. The detective remembered the man shot in the chest before he was tossed in the murky water’s name was Tariq something or another. He, along with a few more bodies, was fished out the latter part of the previous week. After getting in touch with the homicide detective handling that particular case, the weary Chase started the long, grueling task of going through the extensive list of names and numbers in the contact list. Logging in the amount, dates, and times the owner called the most frequent numbers, he tried to find a pattern. After then carefully studying the iPhone Ghostman had on his hip when he was killed, and comparing the two, he felt like he might have been making some sort of headway.