Murdergram, Part 1

by Nisa Santiago

  Cristal hurried away from her grandmother fast, like the kitchen had caught on fire. Mia was seated on the couch talking on her cell phone. When she noticed Cristal leaving, she curtailed her call and asked Cristal, “Why are you leaving? I thought you were going to stay and let us catch up.”

  “Well, you thought wrong,” Cristal snapped.

  “I thought it was all good between us.”

  “It is. I can forgive, but I damn sure can’t forget,” Cristal responded.

  Cristal walked out the apartment leaving it at that. The blood money she’d given her grandmother weighed heavily on her conscience.

  Cristal walked out the lobby with her car keys already in her hand. She was ready to escape back home and be by herself. She only took three steps toward her parked vehicle on the other side of the street when she heard someone shout out, “Hey, Ms. Bionic.”

  Hearing the nickname, Cristal already knew who was calling her. Was it possible that they had run into each other again? She turned to her left and saw the driver door to a silver Bentley GT opened up. Hugo stepped out the car with his pearly white teeth showing and looking too fine in his brown leather jacket and sparkling jewelry, his low-cut waves shining and his eyes lighting up in Cristal’s direction.

  “I knew it was meant to be,” he hollered with excitement. “I knew I would see you again.”

  Cristal was literally speechless.

  What was he doing in Brooklyn? And why was he on this side of town, parked in front of her grandmother’s building out of all places?

  “You stalking me?” Cristal asked throwing a hard scowl his way.

  “Stalking? Hell no, this is fate, beautiful. But I’m like ubiquitous out this bitch, you gonna see me everywhere.”

  The way he spoke and the words he used, it made his presence even more unique and him very intriguing.

  “But I have peoples in this building. Brooklyn is my first home. I was born and raised here, Brownsville and East New York. I’m surprised you never heard of me . . . not to toot my own horn, but my name do ring out,” he continued. “And I already see it in your face, you wondering what was I doing in SoHo…see I’m never the type to be provincial. I like to get around.”

  “Even with the ladies,” Cristal uttered, taking shots at him.

  Hugo could only chuckle at the slick comment toward him. “I really like you, Ms. Bionic.”

  Cristal was becoming annoyed by the nick name. “Please, stop calling me that.”

  “Well, it would be nice if I knew your real name. You was so cold before, you damn near left me with frostbite in the heat,” he joked.

  Cristal laughed. He was funny. He had a magnetic personality, and Cristal couldn’t help but to be drawn to him.

  “See, there go that smile and laughter. I knew you had it somewhere in you. You are beautiful, like, extremely, and you have been on my mind since the day I met you.”

  “You got game, I give you that,” said Cristal.

  “Nah, it’s no game with you. It’s the truth. You look like a woman who doesn’t have time for games, and I’m not the Parker Brothers.”

  “I don’t,” she agreed.

  “So let me start this again. My name is Hugo, in case you forgot, and can I have the pleasure of knowing the angel I’m talking to?” Hugo stretched out his hand to shake hers.

  Cristal looked reluctant for a moment, but he was so funny and smooth with his approach, it was hard to deny him a second time. And maybe it was fate. New York was a big city, and the chances of them bumping into each other were almost zero to none.

  She finally told him the name the Commission assigned her. “My name is Elizabeth.”

  “Elizabeth. Now that’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Hugo complimented.

  “Thank you.”

  “You know that invitation to take you out to dinner is still open. I’m a patient man.”

  “I bet you are.”

  One date with him seemed harmless, but Cristal was still apprehensive about it.

  “Who you know in this building? You said your peoples. Who’s your peoples?” she asked.

  “My mother stays here. She’s sick with cancer, so I come by on a regular to make sure she’s very well taken care of. I hired a full-time home attendant to look after her. That woman is the only family I have left,” Hugo admitted.

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  He shook his head. “My older brother died from an asthma attack when I was twelve. I never knew my father, and any distant family out there never gave enough of a fuck about me and my moms to come check on us or help us out when shit got bad. So at a young age, I got smart and business-savvy really fast.”

  It was sad to hear.

  Despite going through the third degree with Cristal and having to remember losing his older brother, there was this strength and assurance about him. He stood tall like a general. He had swag and charm.

  “Funny thing, I never saw you around before,” Cristal said, skeptically.

  “I don’t hang out. I’m about my business from sunup to sundown. I come see my mother and then I’m ghost.”

  “Mama’s boy, huh?”

  “I confess, I am. But you know a few things about me now. Hope it brings you some comfort, but I only know your name,” he said.

  It was hard to spill out, but Cristal decided to let her guard down a small inch and disclosed to him, “I got family in this building too. My grandmother.”

  “See, we both have something in common.”

  “Nice car,” she pointed out. “What is it that you do, Hugo?”

  “Honestly, I do me. I’m a hustler, I’m not even gonna lie to you,” he admitted.

  It was a bold thing to do—to expose the truth to a complete stranger—but Cristal gave him strong points for doing so.

  “So by the looks of things, you’re the man in charge, huh,” she replied.

  He smiled. “I wasn’t born to follow, but to be the commanding general of my own army and run my own empire.”

  “And how big is this empire?”

  “We can talk about this over dinner.”

  “You’re very persistent.”

  “Because I know you’re a good thing worth chasing,” he said coolly.

  His conversation was interesting. He was an appealing and amiable man. Cristal gazed into his eyes; they spoke out a gangster and a gentleman, just her type of man. His smooth complexion and soft hair, mixed with his strong jawbone and nose was magnetic. He looked like he was a mixed breed with a weird name.

  She lingered near his Bentley longer than she expected, conversing with Hugo about everything. He had much talk to him, but it wasn’t nonsense. The man was educated: He knew business, politics, and history, and if he had not been a big-time drug dealer, then maybe in a different life he would have been running a Fortune 500 company.

  Two hours passed, and Cristal found herself seated in the passenger seat of Hugo’s gleaming Bentley and hanging onto every word he was saying. She was sucked into him. Two hours already, and time flew when she was having a good time. They were still parked outside her grandmother’s building, and their conversation sparked so lively that it electrocuted them both.

  They made arrangements to meet the next evening. Hugo was going to pick her up from the city. He had a nice place he wanted to take her.

  Cristal was willing now. His voice, his intelligence, and his demanding swag piqued her interest.

  Cristal exited his car with him remaining seated in the driver’s seat. He smiled at her. She smiled back.

  “I’m looking forward for tomorrow,” Hugo said.

  “You better not be late,” she warned him.

  “Oh believe me, I do not do CP time, especially when I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there on time. You have my word on that.”

  Cristal n
odded.

  Hugo drove off, leaving Cristal standing on the sidewalk with a feeling of ambivalence. Was it right to go out with him? Could things transpire into something more serious? Had the Commission planted him to spy on her?

  Twenty-Two

  Sharon was so distraught over Pike’s death that it wasn’t safe for her to be alone. Sharon contemplated her own suicide. She was in love, and he was in love with her, and now that love was gone without any warning. She couldn’t believe he was dead—murdered by two thugs like his life was meaningless. There were savages out there, and Sharon wanted extreme vengeance for his death—an eye for an eye.

  The newspapers were calling Pike’s murder gang-related: “A once-talented athlete shot down in gang warfare,” the paper read. Sharon became furious when she read “gang warfare.” Pike wasn’t in a gang, but the media steadily attributed every murdered black man to gang violence whether it was true or not. His murder only received a small mention in the paper. It wasn’t the headline and no one cared about another young black male being killed. The only reason Pike’s murder made the news at all was because he used to be a high-school star athlete, and his talent and past had been profiled in the media prior to his death. Pike was known, and now he was gone.

  Sharon was taken to Mona’s place to convalesce. She couldn’t be alone, especially in Pike’s apartment. Mona wanted to be a good friend to her. She wanted to help her. She had to make up to Sharon for everything. First, they had let her get jumped by Mesha and her bitches, and then they’d murdered her boyfriend. Of course she couldn’t let Sharon know, but Mona had to do something to make things right.

  Sharon cried in Mona’s arms. Her tears trickled down her cheek like a downpour, soaking Mona’s shirt with her tears. Mona did her best to console her friend with Cristal and Tamar absent.

  “I loved him so much, Mona, and he loved me,” Sharon cried out.

  Mona continued consoling her friend, but her heart was burning with guilt.

  “What kind of animals would do this to him? Why? He was changing, Mona. He was becoming a better man for me. Why was he snatched away from me? Why kill him?” Sharon cried out.

  “I don’t know. Pike did have a past, Sharon. He did sell drugs and was known to fuck anything wit’ a pulse. He did have enemies, and his past probably came back on him,” said Mona.

  “What the fuck, Mona!” Sharon spat, angry. “Are you justifying his fuckin’ death? Seriously?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I was just saying—”

  “Just don’t say shit,” Sharon heatedly interjected. “You know what, fuck you!”

  Sharon jumped up, scowling at her friend with her tearstained face.

  “Sharon, I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you.”

  “You already have,” she exclaimed.

  Sharon quickly grabbed her things and limped with her cast to the front door. She truly felt alone. All of her friends were so distant from her. Since they had all left for “job training,” things had changed with them.

  “Sharon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so callous toward your feelings.”

  Sharon turned. “When did you start using words like ‘callous,’ Mona? You, Cristal, and Tamar, y’all all changed.”

  “Sharon, I’m still the same person,” Mona replied.

  “No you’re not. Who are you?”

  Mona remained silent. She didn’t know herself anymore.

  Twenty-Three

  Cristal stood in her sweet-scented and relaxing bathroom in her white, cotton terry bathrobe. The water was rushing out of the faucet like a waterfall, filling the porcelain tub with warm and soothing clear water. She had Sade playing from the Bluetooth speaker on the bathroom countertop, and Cristal was ready to get naked and submerge herself into a watery enjoyment. It was that time to shut her eyes and escape somewhere mystical. She allowed the robe to fall around her feet and sat at the edge of the tub and ran her fingers through the warm water. She couldn’t wait to get in.

  As she was about to slip her feet into the tub, she heard someone knocking loudly at her door. It was almost 11pm, and she wasn’t expecting any company. The knocking interrupted her tranquil mood.

  She threw her robe back on, grabbed the .9mm from the bedroom, and went to see who it was. With her robe tied tightly, concealing her goodies underneath, Cristal looked through the peephole with her gun in hand and was shocked to see E.P. The Commission had made it clear that they would never see their recruiters again. But there he was, standing outside her apartment as clear as day.

  Cristal hesitated answering the door. She felt some nervousness. Why had he shown up so unexpectedly? And why after they murdered Pike for the Commission? Did they do something wrong? Pike was killed within forty-eight hours as requested. They made sure to do the hit right and not have it linked back to them.

  He knocked again. “I know you’re home, Cristal.”

  She sighed and then opened the door carefully. E.P. stood in front of her looking so handsome in his tailor-made suit, his black, dark skin shimmering. He was an intimidating man. His strongly built structure showed in the dark black suit he wore, and he appeared too cool in her sight.

  “Hello, Cristal,” E.P. greeted with a slight smile.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “It’s obvious. I wanted to see you.”

  “But the Commission made it clear that we would never meet again,” she said.

  He laughed quietly. “You have no need to worry about the Commission.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because I say so.”

  Cristal was slightly taken aback by his bleakness, but she kept her cool with her emotionless gaze.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  Even if she didn’t want him to, she couldn’t tell him no. “Yeah, sure.”

  Cristal stepped aside from the doorway and allowed E.P. to walk inside her new home. He looked around her small apartment and said, “You have a nice place here.”

  “Not as nice as yours.”

  “We all need to start somewhere.”

  E.P. unbuttoned his suit jacket and removed it. His black slacks and collared shirt hugged his physically fit body. He looked too good in Cristal’s eyes. He appeared to be unarmed. He looked at her. He didn’t appear to be a threat to her, but Cristal could never be too sure. She kept her grip on the pistol.

  E.P. glanced at the gun in her hand. “You got a problem with me now?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then why the gun?”

  “The Farm—it changed me.”

  “It was supposed to do that. And I’m glad you made it through. I knew you had it in you,” he said. “But I’m no threat to you, Cristal. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t even see me coming.”

  Cristal knew he was right. It had to be a social visit. Maybe he missed her. She did miss him somewhat. E.P. hung his suit jacket over the back of one of her chairs. He simply made himself comfortable in her apartment like he was her lover.

  “Were you the one that left that folder on my bed while I was asleep?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Then who did?”

  “You don’t need to concern yourself with worries about who the messenger was. They were given a job to do, and you were given a job to do. The inner workings of the organization should never be your concern. The less you know, the better.”

  She had to ask him. “But why Pike? What did he ever do to you or the Commission?”

  “The murder of your friend was only a test. The Commission had to be sure about you and the others. Once you murder a close friend, the other kills are easy to do,” he said.

  “And what about the money, E.P.? Ten thousand apiece. We expected more than that, especially since it was someone close to us.”

  “You should be happy the three of y’all saw t
hat much for someone who wasn’t significant,” he returned. “You have passed training on the Farm, but you are not considered a professional yet.”

  Pike was just a test, and it showed how heartless this organization really was. Taking a human life was only business to them. It was a cold world with the organization, and Cristal wondered how much colder it was going to get. However, she had more questions for E.P. She never thought he would be seen again, but there he was, in the flesh and looking magnificent.

  He took a seat on her sofa and crossed his legs like a gentleman. “You have anything to drink?”

  “Just water,” she replied.

  “That’ll do.”

  Cristal turned and went into her kitchen and poured some tap water into a glass. E.P. sat evenly on her sofa. She brought him his cold glass of water, he gulped it down, and then she bombarded him with more questions.

  “Why did it take so long for the Commission to give us our first job? We sit here twiddling our thumbs like idiots while trying to adjust to our new lives,” she complained.

  “The Commission reaches out when they feel the crew is ready. They have hubs all around the world, domestic and international. Some hubs stand out more than others, and so do assassins.”

  “Assassins, like who?”

  “Aren’t you Twenty-One Questions tonight?”

  “I’m just curious, E.P., that’s all. I want to be the best. I want jobs, me and my crew. I want to prove myself.”

  “Prove yourself, huh? Is it just you? What about Tamar and Mona? And haven’t you heard the proverb ‘Curiosity killed the cat?’”

  “I’m a hard cat to kill.”

  “You think you are.”

  “But who’s the assassin that’s progressing?” she asked, dying to know.

  E.P. gazed at her for a moment, taking in her dynamic figure covered up in the robe she wore and licked his lips thinking about how great her body looked underneath the soft fabric. He had his reasons for coming to see Cristal. She had been on his mind since the day she’d left his place. He had a strong urge to plunge his dick in her tight, warm pussy. But for now, he would play questions and answers.