“Yeah, well, whatever you call it,” Nikky said, “you kicked her ass!”
“It felt good, too. Especially since she almost always beats the shit outta me in jujitsu and Hapkido. I’m getting better, but she’s been doing them a lot longer than me. And she trains real hard, so maybe she’ll always kick my butt in them.”
“I don’t know about any of that stuff,” Deja said. “I can’t tell a Jew from an Arab, much less a Jew Jap Sue. I can tell you what I do know. I saw you kick her butt today, and it felt real good to see. That’s what I know.”
“Give me a few minutes to grab a shower, then we can go get some lunch.”
Nikky and Deja rode in Nikky’s car, following Michelle for the short drive to the mall, where Michelle took them to a small, tucked-away café.
They strode through the door, and Nikky slowly peered around. “What’s safe to eat in this place? And why’d you bring us here anyway?”
Located next to Bloomingdale’s, the café was pleasantly decorated like a rich European’s kitchen. On top of several counters sat baskets of big bread loaves beside bottles of wine standing on little squares of cloth that matched the half-curtains at the windows. The curtains were cute but didn’t cover anything, and were low enough for people to look out over the top. The place seemed friendly, yet not as comfortable as the restaurants in the hood. Michelle wondered if that might be because she couldn’t smell the food coming from the kitchen. Everything just smelled … bland.
“The food here’s okay except maybe some of the salads,” Michelle said to Nikky. “They can be a little strange. Get one of the regular lunches with food you recognize; it’ll be good. I brought us here because I’m hungry and I wanted to be away from the hood. I need to discuss some shit that’s about to go down and I don’t need a bunch of folks listening to what we’re talking about.”
Michelle looked around. Not a single Black face. “That, and I know this place gets real empty after regular lunchtime,” she added, “like it is right now.”
“Um, I see …” Deja, too, looked around. “There sure aren’t any sisters in here to be all up in our business.”
“If they do come in this place,” Nikky said, “then they’re not a real sister. Probably got a stick up their butts so deep they can’t recognize they’re Black anymore.”
Michelle shrugged. “There’s good and bad in everything. The service here is always very good. Speaking of which, here she comes.”
“Hi, my name’s Julie. I’ll be your server today. May I get you something to drink while you decide on your lunch selection? Have you had the—”
“Hi, Julie, I think we’re ready to order now,” Michelle cut in before Julie could launch into her “specials of the day” spiel. “I’ll have the Cobb salad with an A&W Root Beer.” She nodded toward Deja. “She’ll have the special deluxe cheeseburger plate with both curly fries and coleslaw. Give her a chocolate shake and a piece of your apple pie, too, and warm up the pie.” Last, she nodded toward Nikky. “And she’d like the pork chop lunch plate with fries and the house salad. Give her a Pepsi with it.”
Julie left with a promise to bring their orders right away.
“Hey, Michelle, it’s sure good you’re paying, because I can’t believe they charge twelve dollars for a hamburger and six dollars for a shake!” Deja said. “I don’t care if they know the cow by name and who its momma was, it’s still only a hamburger. And Cobb salad? What the hell is a Cobb salad, anyway?”
“It’s a big salad with lots of things in it. Sounds fancy, but it’s not.” Michelle raised an eyebrow. “You know, you might think about some salad sometime. You keep eating those burgers and shakes, they’ll sneak up on you. People who eat that food every day go from being built like a brick house to being built like a warehouse.”
“You got that right,” Nikky said. “Remember Tanya, one year ahead of us in school? Back then she was fine and had a figure every girl wanted. I saw her last night at the 7-Eleven. That girl had blown up! Her brick house figure is gone. She’s as big as all get out.” She looked pointedly at Deja. “Michelle’s right. We can’t look like that—ever!”
“But with you being hurt and all, you can eat whatever you want and tell us to go screw ourselves,” Michelle said. Poor Deja. With her black eyes and bandaged nose, Deja looked like a scraggly raccoon. “You get to feeling better first, then you can worry about eating some salad later. You enjoy that hamburger, because, girl, you’ve got it coming.”
“I hear that,” Deja said. “I have this and more coming. If I’m stuck looking this bad for taking a punch for you two, I can at least enjoy something good to eat. That and”—Deja leaned over and looked Michelle up and down—“you got that lean athlete body. That’s all good, but it’s not for me. No disrespect, but in my book, I gotta have some meat on my bones to feel like I’m a real woman.”
“Damn skippy!” Nikky said.
They all laughed.
Soon, Julie brought their food and drinks and everyone dove into their lunches.
“Well, girl, you’ve got us here eating who knows what kind of stuff, and we’re sitting around talking real quiet like we’re some snotty bitches.” Nikky raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “What’s up? What do you want to say that you can’t say at Roscoe’s or T‑Bones?”
“Deja, I know you’ve been holed up at your place, but did you hear about Quincy? He and Lewis both?” Michelle asked.
Nikky kept quiet, showing she hadn’t told Deja about Michelle slipping out of the hospital.
“I heard they got killed over on the 405. The police came to my room at the hospital. They asked me about the fight and getting my nose broke by Quincy, but they didn’t seem real interested. They were more interested about you guys. Of course I told them you were with me all night. I said they could check with the nurses if they didn’t believe me.”
“Good, that’s the story we have to stick to. Also, we need to stick to the story that somebody did us a big favor by killing their sorry asses.” Michelle took Deja’s hand and slowly winked.
Deja’s eyes went wide. “Oh?”
Michelle put her finger to her lips. “At the party, Nikky found out who’d done what back at my house with Michael. Both Lewis and Quincy were there. Lewis did the shooting, Quincy did the driving. I’m real grateful to whoever killed them while we were watching you all night.”
“Yeah, me too. I’m real grateful someone did us that favor.” Deja started to wink but stopped halfway. “Damn, even winking hurts.”
“That’s not all we need to talk about, though,” Michelle continued. “Jerome getting shot is another.”
Deja shrugged. “Yeah, we know it was you. But we can’t see how, because you were gone on that trip back East. Anyway, I’m finished with his sorry ass. He’s been a complete dick, picking on shit for no reason. And he’s been saying it’s all my fault he got jacked. Prick acts like he’s forgetting he kicked the shit outta Nikky. Plus, that chickenshit didn’t even come see me in the hospital or come to my place. Fuck him!”
“I’m glad to hear you’re done with him,” Michelle said, “because he stepped way over the line. Now he has some payback coming.”
“Why are you pissed at him this time?” Deja asked.
“He snitched on me for shooting his sorry ass. The police arrested me at the hospital. Good thing I was in New York and have a good alibi. Having a good lawyer helped, too. Add being a rooty-poot punk snitch to being a coward going around hitting women and it equals some serious payback.” Before she went further, Michelle needed to hear the words from her friend’s mouth. “Are you sure you’re finished with his ass?”
“That muthafucka,” Deja said. “Always saying how a snitch doesn’t deserve to live, bragging about how he has too much heart to be a snitch. He’s a hook-ass weak spineless pissant punk, that’s what he is.”
Michelle checked behind her to make sure no one had sat down close. “You guys didn’t know, and still don’t know for sure, about what happ
ened to Jerome. Like you said, I was in New York. If we keep talking, we cross a legal line.”
“What are you saying?” Deja asked. “We already told you, we were in.”
“That was about what happened to Michael. This is new and has a stronger chance of bouncing back on you guys.”
Nikky shifted in her seat, made eye contact with Deja, then nodded. “It’s like this, Michelle. We’re dogs, always have been. We didn’t grow up in places like this”—she waved around the room—“so we know the score and what comes with it. Yeah, we’re in. We have your back, and we expect you to have ours. The police can go fuck themselves. If the shit comes down, we’ll just have to deal with it. That’s how we roll. Always have, always will.”
“Ride or die,” Michelle said.
“Ride or die,” Nikky echoed.
“Okay then, back to that rat bastard Jerome. Deja, this is the big question: Are you okay with me putting his ass down? With the police already suspicious of me for the last time I shot him, I need to be real careful. Before I go there, I need to know: How do you feel about it?”
“I’m finished with his sorry ass,” Deja said. “I don’t want anything else to do with him. That’s for real. Thing is, I don’t know why, but I still do care about him. So I’m asking you, please, don’t kill him. Lord knows he’s probably got it coming. Sure as shit he’ll do something stupid later to get his fool self killed anyway. I just don’t want you to be the one to do it. Can you understand that?”
“Of course I can,” Michelle said. “No problem, I won’t go down that street.”
Nikky had been quiet, watching her friends discuss Jerome. “You know,” she said. “I have something to say on this whole thing. My ribs are real sore from where he kicked me. I’ve got a score to settle with him, too. When it’s time to jack his ass, I want in.”
“Do the police know he’s the one who busted you up?” Michelle asked.
“No. I told the people at the clinic I got drunk and fell off my high heels on the front steps. One more reason to jack him. He snitched on you when he earned what he got, and I kept my mouth shut when he was a chickenshit punk to come at me for no reason.”
“Deja, you can’t be involved with this,” Michelle said. “Everybody knows you’ve been with him and he’s slapped you around. You have to be completely outta the Kool-Aid on this one. You feel me?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling you. Thanks, I really don’t want to be in it anyway. Plus, it’s better if I’m not with you. If he sees me in the mix, he might do something even more stupid.”
“Good. I don’t know when or what I’m going to do with his sorry ass just yet, but I had to check with my girls before making a move on him.”
Deja smiled. “Thanks.”
“You let me know; I’ll be ready,” Nikky said.
“Now I have one more real important thing to ask,” Michelle said, looking at Deja.
“What’s that?”
“How did you like that twelve-dollar burger?”
Twenty-Six: An Asshat Gets Paid
“KNOCK, KNOCK, ANYBODY home?” Michelle said as she unlocked G‑Baby’s front door and let herself in.
“Back, here,” Baby‑Sister called from the kitchen. The smell of greens, sweet potatoes, and fried chicken filled the house.
They’re getting tight.
“Hey, Unc, what’s up?” Michelle gave him wink. “Hey, Baby‑Sister. Something sure smells good. Whatcha cooking?”
“Just a little something I threw together. I can make more if you want some.”
“No thanks,” she said. “I’m good.”
Wine glasses, candles, and linen napkins adorned the dining room table, along with a single rose in front of the two place settings. The cozy scene made Michelle happy for her uncle. For too long, ever since his wife died of cancer, he’d had one night stands and no relationships. No, she wouldn’t interrupt their evening any more than she had to.
“Say, Unc, can I holla at you a quick minute?” Michelle nodded toward the front of the house.
He winked at Baby‑Sister. “Only be a minute. Don’t go away, because I’ve got plans for you.” He followed Michelle out of the kitchen, where she leaned in, speaking in low tones.
“I need to take Nikky out on the boat with Tuan. Can you get the hookup for Saturday or Sunday?” she asked.
“Let me give him a call and see if he can help us out.”
“Before you call him, though, I have to tell you, this doesn’t have anything to do with our deal. And this isn’t a professional job, either; I wouldn’t ask for this kind of favor for that. It’s something for my girls.”
“Doesn’t matter, not to me. Tuan and me, we go back to when we were in diapers. We’ve got so much back and forth, neither of us has any idea who owes what. All we know is that if either of us asks, the other’s there for him. This call here is me asking for you, and now you’re the one who owes him. As far as I’m concerned, if you need help on a personal job, you’ve got it. I know you’re serious. I’ve got your back however you need it to happen.” G-Baby stepped away to call his friend.
Michelle grew up on stories of Tuan’s dad and her grandfather in Saigon during the Vietnam war. As a little girl, she didn’t know families in the hood usually didn’t have Vietnamese friends. Tuan was like an uncle; his kids, like cousins. She reminisced about family outings when her whole family was alive. They were the good memories. She also thought about how they’d helped hide her away in Asia. Those memories were not quite as happy.
G‑Baby’s voice broke through her reverie. “Okay, it’s set for next Saturday,” he said. “He invited you and your friend to have dinner with his family when we come in. Said to tell you we’re having octopus tentacles and duck heads.” He chuckled. “I never can tell if he’s messing with me or if he’s serious. Guess we’ll find out when we sit down to eat.”
Michelle gave her uncle a hug. “You’re the best. I love you. You know that, right? I didn’t want to interrupt you two, so I lied, saying I was all set with dinner already. Now I’ve got to get something to eat; Baby‑Sister’s cooking has my stomach growling, big time.”
Glancing back toward the kitchen where Baby‑Sister sang to herself, G‑Baby said, “Thanks for that. You be good. I’ll see you girls here at five thirty on Saturday morning.”
While G‑Baby went back to the kitchen, Michelle hopped into her Crossfire, put the top down, and headed to Western Avenue in search of some dinner.
*
“Coffee, I need coffee.”
Although Nikky complained about being up before 5:00 a.m., she was up, dressed, and met Michelle coming up the walk to her apartment. Another long day lay ahead of them.
Yesterday, Nikky had shown up at Michelle’s at 8:30 a.m. “Here I am, on time, and with a full tank of gas, like you said. You’re crazy, though, asking me to be here this early. I never get up before nine, except on workdays.” Michelle knew Nikky was just shit-talking and was good for the day ahead.
“Hey, thanks for being on time; we have a lot of ground to cover. First, we’ll swing by Scott’s—I called earlier—and he’ll have our breakfast and coffee ready to go. We’re headed over to the Burbank Airport where we’ll pick up a rental car. You won’t like it much; it’s cheap and small with a bumpy ride.”
“What are we getting?”
“A white Toyota Corolla. It only has a cheap radio, so we won’t be bumping any good beats. But we’re doing a job, anyway, not going out on a date.”
“If this car is so cheap, why not get something better?” Nikky asked.
“A more expensive car will stick out in the hood. This one’s more or less invisible. And we need to be invisible.”
“You’ve got to explain ‘be invisible.’ How can a car be invisible?”
“All right. Don’t look up,” Michelle said. “Now, describe that gray car parked two cars in ahead of you.”
Nikky scrunched up her face. “I don’t have any idea what it looks like.”
“Like a plain girl at school; basically, a wallflower of cars.”
“Exactly. Let’s hit the freeway and see how invisible we can be in the middle of a gazillion cars with drivers who are mostly asleep at the wheel.”
Nikky drove out onto the freeway which soon slowed to a crawl. “Imagine if one of those aliens, like in the movies, came down and heard you talking about invisible cars and people driving asleep at the wheel. They’d think you were nuts.”
“Well, look around.” Michelle waved at the surrounding cars inching along. “Don’t they look like they’re driving in a fog? Also, you and me, we really do need to be invisible. That’s why we’re in your car, and why I told you to take your hair down, wash off all your makeup, and wear old, loose clothes. We don’t want anyone to notice us today or tomorrow, so you’ve got to remember to keep a low profile all day today.
“Tomorrow’s the big day, but today’s also a big day. We can’t flirt with any men, no matter how fine. And no shit-talking—none, not even just a little. People who come across us have to just look somewhere else like we’re not even there. We’re a couple of sweet, quiet, boring, country church women going for a ride in the big city.”
“God! First you want me to be invisible. Now you want me to be boring too, and with this traffic, I’m bored to match. I bet we haven’t even gone five miles.” Nikky put on her signal to change lanes. “Asshole!” she yelled, “Did you see that jerk cut me off?”
“He may be a jerk, but remember, you’re a sweet, quiet, country girl who doesn’t get pissed about anything.”
“Well, he’s still a jerk, even if I can’t talk shit. Sweet Jesus, where does all this traffic come from? I didn’t know every mother’s son in L.A. crowded on the freeway this time of day.”
“Traffic will be like this all day,” Michelle said, “and even worse after three this afternoon. But I think we should be okay. Even though we have a long way to go, we’ll miss the worst of it. The hard part will be when we leave Burbank with the rental.”
Sister's Revenge: Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin) Page 15