Hood Misfits 3

by Brick

  Chapter 14

  Angel

  “Tell me why you chose to work for Dame.” I’d never had a chance to ask anyone that. I never understood who would willingly work for that man and why. We were sitting on the balcony of the condo he had gotten for me. For as much shit as he talked about me, Enzo had eaten the food I’d cooked like I hadn’t spit in it. I appreciated the new place, but he’d made it pretty clear that I was a part of him seeing his agenda through. I’d always dreamed of living in a place like the one he’d gotten me, so there was no way in hell that I would have turned him down when he offered it to me, no matter what it had cost me. I’d rather know the devil I was dealing with than to go into a scheme with one I didn’t. For now, I knew that Enzo wouldn’t do anything to me as long as he had to keep his word to his aunt. And for as long as we had Micah in our sight, I had a place to lay my head.

  “Why did you choose to work for him?” He answered my question with a question as he smoked a blunt.

  I was already semi high just from the contact alone. I’d smoked a lot of weed in my day, but the weed Enzo had was some shit I hadn’t ever had a hit of. He told me he only bought the best for his aunt because it helped her with pain when he could get her to smoke it. The little hairs on the weed was like gold he’d told me. He said since it was a lot of them there then that meant it was good weed. He had a mixture and had told me to take a pick, but I had declined just needing to keep my head clear. There were a lot of crystals on his weed, too. Maybe that was why maybe after five or so pulls he looked like Scotty was calling him. The shit was so green and potent I could smell it through the bag he pulled out. It would be safe to say that if the cops walked into the place, they’d know without asking what was going on.

  “I didn’t choose it. I was kidnapped.”

  “That nigga, Dame, had this sports camp thing. He knew all the big people in the leagues: NBA, NFL, even the MLB, and NHL. All my life, all I ever wanted to do was play ball. I can play my ass off in basketball, but it was football that called to me. To make a long story short, Dame had what I wanted and I had something he wanted; if I moved product for him, he would ensure I got my ticket to the NFL. Of course, shit didn’t go as plan until that nigga was dead.”

  I nodded. To be honest, I was surprised he told me that much. I was expecting him to tell me to mind my business or say some snide shit to me.

  “So, why were you and Jake fighting?” I asked, pushing my luck further.

  For some reason, I wanted to know about that man who was in front of me. I wanted to know what each tattoo he had meant, wanted to know why he chose to get a bull nose piercing, wanted to know why he had those piercings on each side of his V cut. And I for sure wanted to know more about the piercings in his dick.

  He took a pull of his blunt then squinted his eyes as he looked at me. “You a nosy motherfucker, you know that?”

  “I was only asking because you two seemed close. So I don’t understand why he would come at you like that without cause I mean.”

  “Some shit you just shouldn’t ask people. That’s one of them.”

  “You must have done some—”

  “Shut up, Angel. Leave the shit alone.”

  I didn’t want to push any further so I shrugged his aggressive tone off and got up to walk to the kitchen. The hardwood floor was cool underneath my feet. Light reflected off of the golden chandelier that hung above the dining room table. Since the place came furnished, I made no query about changing anything. The décor was simple, but I could live with simple since my life had been anything but. The plush white sofa and loveseat set boasted a cosmopolitan feel. Red, silver, and baby blue throw pillows were thrown about to bring out the same color accent wall. The three colors were asymmetrical against one another as a big black-and-white photo of the Atlanta skyline adorned the wall. There was no TV as of yet. Dishes were already in the kitchen, which boasted stainless steel appliances and was as big as the last hotel suite I’d stayed in if not bigger. Yeah, it was a far cry above what I had become used to since living in Dame’s mansion.

  I could hear Enzo moving around behind me. I didn’t really know what he had been doing before I’d called him and asked him if he wanted anything to eat. I didn’t have any food so I told him what I wanted to cook and he went to the market to get it for me.

  “I need you to tell me what else you know about Micah being FBI,” he said.

  I turned expecting to still find him on the other side of the room, but damn near jumped out of my skin to find he had almost walked right up on me. I moved back a little. “I told you all I know.”

  “Tell me more about those files you saw,” he demanded, the droopiness of his eyes making him sexier than he already was. He was in one of his moods again and it bothered me.

  “I told you already.”

  “Tell me again, Angel.”

  The way he spoke my name with a low drawl made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I swallowed then turned to place the plate I’d eaten out of in the sink. “There were different files. Some on DOA, some on African Queens. And a file on Phenom. I didn’t get to see any fully because Micah was coming back in the room. There were a lot more files I didn’t see.”

  “Did you actually see anything on DOA?”

  I shrugged as I watched him fold his muscled arms across his chest. “Not really. I mean, I saw the names of Dame and someone named Lu Orlando. There was a Dante, too, but I just thought it was an alias for Dame. I know better now. I didn’t read the profiles because I was going so fast. There were cities outlined like Harlem, Brooklyn, L.A., Oakland, and Tampa. I saw something about Havana, Cuba, and Brazil, too. I do know that one piece of paper had a timeline dating back to thirty or more years ago showing when the FBI first infiltrated DOA. Said something about a Battle and Phenom, but Battle’s picture was X’d out. That’s all I remember.”

  “You’re going to die, Angel,” he said to me. My brows furrowed and I backed away from him. “Micah is not going to let you live once he finds out you know all this stuff.”

  “How will he know unless you tell him?”

  “You’re the one who said you thought he put two and two together when you sarcastically asked the nigga if he was a detective. You gave yourself away. If shit is as deep as you say was in those files, that nigga will kill you before he lets you blow his cover.”

  “So, how am I going to get to close to him and act normal?”

  “You can act like you’ve always acted.”

  “Yeah, but now I’m scared he’s going to outright kill me.”

  “Nobody got time for that shit, Angel. If we wanna live the life we want to, that nigga has to go. You gone have to suck it up, mama. Of course this nigga wants to kill you. Why wouldn’t he? One word from you and all comes crumbling down. Truth be told I think his plan has always been to kill you. He just used you to get to me through Drew. Every nigga got a agenda. Act like you know.”

  I hadn’t even thought about things that far. I had been living for the moment, trying to survive for the now. I never once thought about the fact that maybe Micah would come for me because I knew too much about him. I knew by the information I’d seen in that folder that more than one agent was undercover in the underworld of the A. For damn near a year I’d lived a semi peaceful life after Dame and just that fast, my life was no longer my own again.

  I moved away from him and walked back onto the balcony. I needed the cool night air to clear my head. The scent of the dank was still in the air. He had left his blunt there. I picked it up and relit it. I took a hard, long pull. I tried to hold the smoke in and damn near choked from the burning in my throat and chest.

  “Damn,” I croaked out, almost slobbering out the mouth.

  As soon as he walked back out I handed the blunt back to him. He handed me the bottle of Patrón in trade. I heard “Gunwalk” playing on the small radio he’d brought over.

  “So can you help me not to get killed?” I asked him through watery eyes. “I d
on’t really wanna die, Enzo.”

  “You sure?” he asked me. “Could have fooled me with the way you went after that treacherous bitch. Trigga said that nigga Speedy could have killed you.”

  “I don’t wanna die by that nigga Micah’s hands I mean. Anika says she’ll help me get my shit together. If she gon’ help me, I wanna try.”

  He didn’t answer me right away. Just handed me the blunt back and took the Patrón. He took the liquor to the head while I choke on the blunt again. He was quiet for a good ten minutes while we passed vices back and forth. I could admit I was scared, but that weed and alcohol had me floating. “Gunwalk” was on repeat and it was putting me in a zone. Days of being in the strip club had me whipping my hair, then minimally moving my ass from side to side in a slow bounce. I was in a zone until I saw Enzo leaning back on the rail watching me.

  “You gon’ help me or what?” I asked him again out the blue. My speech was slurred a bit but he understood me.

  “You asking a lot of a nigga, like you got money or some shit to pay for my services. Fuck I look like, Captain Save a Ho for real to you or summin’?” He snatched his blunt from my hand. I went to grab the bottle of Patrón and he snatched that back too.

  “Why you playing?” I yelled. Somewhere between being high, drunk, and scared out of my mind, I was annoyed, too. I’d gone and gotten myself into a world of shit. Part of me wished I would have just said yes to Micah’s little scheme. I mean after all, all he wanted me to do was fuck for money. I’d been doing that for the last four years of my life anyway. I could have just gone along with the program and not be marked for death. Then again, Enzo was probably right; that nigga was planning on killing me anyway.

  “Who’s playing? You been looking for handouts from me the whole time. A nigga done laid money in your lap and everything. Done saved your fucking life, gave you a place to stay and you still want more? Fuck is wrong with you?” he asked with a frown.

  “Well, sounds like to me you are Captain Save a Ho,” I snapped walking up to him. “You make me sick always talking shit; why? I didn’t do anything to you.” I snatched the Patrón and the blunt. I took a puff of what was left and then a swallow of the liquor.

  “You ruined my little brother.”

  I got in his face. “Blah, blah, blah. You keep saying that lame shit like I did it on purpose or some shit! Okay, your kid brother fucked me. You mad because it wasn’t you? Mad because the thirteen-year-old got to fuck before you did?”

  When his eyes turned dark, I knew I’d let liquid courage make me say the wrong thing. Before I could back away he had his hand around my neck backing me up. He shoved me back so hard that I knew when I hit the floor it would hurt. The sliding door wasn’t closed so I hit the floor hard. The hardwood floor felt like it split my skull, not to mention the pain from my back.

  “Watch your fucking mouth, bitch,” he snarled at me as he glared down at me.

  I pushed up on my elbows to back away from him. I was about sick and tired of being pushed around, or it could have simply been that I was high and drunk enough to think I was. I jumped up from the floor and just stared at the man in front of me. I may have been drunk enough to say what I wanted, but wasn’t high enough to try to fight him while he was in this mood.

  “Asshole,” I mumbled, my chest heaving up and down.

  “Child molesting whore. Do you really want to start the name calling? Watch what the fuck you say when it comes to Drew.”

  “Then watch what you say to me,” I yelled.

  “You walking on thin ice, Angel. I could put you back on the streets in no time.”

  And there it was. “Screw you. I’m not going to take this kind of shit just because you got me a place to stay. I don’t need you holding it over my head. I’ll make my own way,” I said slapping the water away that was rolling down my cheeks.

  “How? You ain’t got shit and nobody,” he countered.

  “I been doing it by myself this far,” I snapped. “And I’ll find a way to keep doing it.”

  “How? That little money you get from being an alternate will get you a roach motel at best and you’ll be dead within a week tops.”

  “I got other shit, skills I can use.”

  “And each one will put you closer to death.”

  His red eyes burned holes through my head. Yeah, I had been wrong for saying that about his little brother considering the circumstances, but he didn’t have to keep throwing up in my face all the stuff that he was doing for me. Shit, and he damn sure didn’t have to keep reminding of what happened in that hotel room. I turned away from him and stormed to the master bedroom where I had put all my stuff. I hadn’t taken anything from the bag really. Only minimal things since he had told me to lay low for the two days we had been training. I was emotional as fuck, all in my feelings. So much so that I grabbed my bag to leave, completely forgetting about what happened just days before when I’d tried to leave on my own.

  Thankfully, Enzo hadn’t forgotten and was at the bedroom door when I turned to walk out. I tried to get past him three times. The third time he pushed me back on the bed then caged me between his arms as he scowled down at me.

  “Don’t be stupid. Where the fuck you gon’ go? You lucky as fuck that keeping my word to my tía means a lot to me. Otherwise I’d let you walk the fuck up out of here and just do you. Now you can rock with me and be good or you can go out there and get killed. All I fucking asked you to do was watch what the fuck you say about my brother. That’s it. He’s still a kid and what happened to him I won’t get over no time soon so respect the way I feel and I’ll leave you the fuck alone about it . . . maybe. Either way, you’re not going anywhere so get comfortable.”

  “You can’t hold me here against my will,” I murmured, head swimming.

  He backed away and pulled the belt from his jeans and turned his mouth in a lopsided grin. “You wanna bet?”

  “Oh you gon’ pull a Dame and beat my ass with a belt now?” I asked belligerently.

  He chuckled. “Nope, I’ma tie your ass to the fucking bedpost. How you piss and shit will be your guess.”

  I could tell he was serious, but the way his jeans slid down on his waist distracted me. I stood back up still watching him. One of those piercings he owned on his V cut peeked out. I licked my lips as I gawked shamelessly. I let my eyes travel up the plane of his abs to his chest, his neck—a thick vein pulsated on the right side or maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me—then up to his thick lips. He was close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath and the weed as well, but it was wanting to know what his lips would feel like against mine that held my curiosity. My eyes caught his and I could see that dare in them. I pushed my luck, moved in, clasped a hand behind his neck, and then kissed him. Eyes closed, my mind told me that he was seconds away from tossing me across the room, but by the time my tongue parted his lips, I was too far gone. And when his tongue touched mine, the bag I was holding on my shoulder hit the floor. I stood on my toes and placed my other hand on the side of his face and took the dance of our tongues as far as he would let me. I could feel when his breathing changed. Thought that was a good thing, especially since he seemed to be as into the kiss as I was.

  But when he pulled away and pushed me back, the blank look on his face told me I was probably the only one who was enjoying the kiss. The grip on his belt tightened in his fist and I was half afraid he was about to snap.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he fussed. “You crazy or some shit?”

  I got my balance then shook my head. “No. Just a whore who wants a killer to give her a chance.” He frowned and tilted his head. “Or at least some dick,” I continued then shrugged.

  I grabbed the end of his belt and pulled him closer to me, or I tried to. He snatched me to him and then placed a finger underneath my chin to force me to look up at him. “I can’t do this with you, Angel.”

  I looked down at the huge bulge in his pants.

  He waved his hand. “
I’m a man so it’s natural law, but with what happened between you and my little brother, nah.”

  I dropped my head and the hold on the belt. He had me there and I could see where he was coming from. Just that quick, that part had completely slipped my mind. I didn’t think about how it would feel for him to be in that kind of situation.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right,” was all I said as I walked out of the room and headed to the bathroom.

  My embarrassment led the way. I couldn’t even look at myself so I bypassed the mirror, got rid of my clothes, and headed right for the shower. Like many times in the last four years of my life, the shower was where I washed away all my demons, hurt, pain, and shame. Even with the shower full blast, I heard when Enzo walked out of the condo and slammed the door behind him. I stayed in the shower for at least an hour. My high was wearing down and I found myself hoping Enzo had left his stash of weed behind. The weed and the liquor would be my companions.

  I turned the water off and stepped onto the cold Italian marble flooring. Once I got to the mirror, I wiped the steam away and looked at myself. I still looked as if I was under the influence of something. Eyes were glazed and droopy. I was about to pick up the brush to untangle my hair when the bathroom door came open and scared the life out of me.

  I tossed the brush at the man standing there. He slapped it out of the air as he studied me.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” I fussed at him. “You don’t do stuff like that. Are you crazy?” I carried on.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just basketball shorts and bare feet. He must have gone to change at his place. I think it was still my shame that had me carrying on. I still couldn’t look at him full on.

  “Nah, not crazy. Just a killer who likes the whore that has stained his little brother’s life.”

  I was all set to protest until he pushed his basketball shorts to the ground and closed the gap between us. He snatched my towel away then sat me on the counter. My body was shaking. I was nervous. The smell of lemon soap wafted through the steaming spot. The look in Enzo’s eyes was primal, one that got my juices flowing instantly. I would have liked to talk to him to ask him why he’d come back, but he didn’t let me talk. Enzo obviously knew that I could open my mouth and kill the mood so he kissed me. A quick peck on the lips at first and then a long, lingering kiss that left me reeling from its effect.