Ava had heard enough gossip from Bridget as far as Stackz was concerned. However, she allowed her messy informant to go on and on about who the rumored “big dick kingpin” used to kick it with when he came home from jail and what he did to get locked up in the first place. Ava was certain if it wasn’t time for her to get back to work, Bridget would have told her Stackz’s Social Security number and what color boxers he had on today.
* * *
Leela had been feeling under the weather for the past few days, but this morning, she’d become violently sick. She jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, barely making it as vomit sprayed the floor and toilet seat. After throwing up much of her stomach’s contents, she was weak, not having the strength to stand to her feet. Distraught and in tears, she crawled back to her bed with the taste of vomit lingering in her mouth. Climbing up in the bed, the mother of three pulled the covers over her head. She’d been down this road before, knowing deep inside, she was pregnant . . . again.
After resting awhile, she got up and went to purchase a pregnancy test from Walgreens. While she was in line to pay for it, along with a bottle of juice, Devin’s sister that she’d fought came inside the store but, thankfully, headed directly to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. Leela wasn’t scared to come face-to-face with her once more, but she knew the last thing she needed to be doing was bucking in her weak condition. She wanted to confront her and reiterate that she had nothing to do with her brother’s death. Yet, after reminiscing about the last time she tried to do that, she changed her mind. Putting her bag into her purse, Leela cowardly slipped out of the store not wanting to be seen.
When she made it home, Leela went straight to the bathroom which still reeked. She opened the box and removed the white indicator stick. No stranger to these tests, she set it on the sink, then pulled her leggings down. Leela looked on the floor because she’d stepped in something wet. Getting queasy again, she realized being trifling, she hadn’t cleaned up the vomit from earlier. Yanking a dirty towel off the side of the tub, Leela dropped it on the floor, stepped on it, then used her foot to mop the chucky foul-smelling mess up. After kicking the vomit-drenched towel off to the side, Leela sat down on the toilet and peed on the stick.
Leela was mentally fucked up; she sat on the toilet with both hands over her face. She didn’t want any more kids and knew she didn’t have time for the ones she had. She had her life to live, and she was good with seeing her kids over at her mother’s house occasionally.
She snatched the test off the sink and stared at it. Damn! Sure enough, the test read positive for her being pregnant. She cursed God out for what she believed he had done to her. In her mind, she never did anything wrong to deserve all she’d been through lately. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. She couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true, but this was the same test she’d used over the years, and it had never been wrong; ever. I’m fucking pregnant! The symptoms she was experiencing were dead giveaways.
Leela’s first thought was to get an abortion like she had so many other times in the past. But she was 99.9 percent sure this baby was Devin’s, which meant it was the only thing she had left of him. In that very moment, Leela planned to fuck over Stackz and anyone else riding with him. That included Gee.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thankful and looking forward to getting some rest, Stackz had finally made it back home. Looking in his garage, he happily took notice that Pissy’s ridiculously out-of-character loan he was forced to borrow was gone and back on the grounds of the chop shop where it should be next in line behind his beloved Jeep to get melted down into nothingness but a block of untraceable scrap.
Stackz was glad he had a team around him that knew how to follow orders and did what needed to be done in a timely fashion. In his line of work, time was of the essence. It had to be if he hoped to stay two steps ahead of his thirsty competition. Putting his key into his front door, he stepped through the threshold ready to take off where he’d left off when last home; go directly to bed. Stackz wanted to take a hot-ass shower and relax. So he did just that. Naked in all his glory, he laid his seven-to-twelve-years penitentiary-cut frame across his pillow top mattress king-size bed. He closed his eyes and replayed the last twenty-four hours in his mind.
Never pressed over any female he’d come in contact with, he couldn’t seem to shake the vision of Ava naked and in his arms. He thought how good he felt holding her, not only in a forceful manner, but how good it would feel if Ava didn’t resist.
Sure, he could fuck any ho that was always on his jock, but that was the problem; they were hoes. Stackz was good at reading women because he has run through so many. He could tell Ava wasn’t like them, and for that, she was worth checking out. Stackz wasn’t wrong much when it came to figuring what a woman’s true motives were and was never a sucker for pussy. As he lay there thinking about Ava, seconds away from drifting off to sleep, Stackz continued to keep in mind, less than twenty-four hours ago, she and her sister were running with a nigga that he forced to take a permanent nap in the dirt.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Leela was on her way home from taking her benefit card over to her mother’s house and visiting with the kids. Her mom had been calling her and calling her like she was crazy, claiming they had no food in the house to eat. She knew her mother was running game half the time, just trying to get Leela over there so she could have a break. Deep down inside, Leela knew she was dead wrong and she needed to spend more time with her own children, but her life was too hectic for the young mother of three to slow down and care. Like Ava, she wanted to go out and have a good time and have a good man spoil her; go to school; have a job; be well respected; own her own home. But that wasn’t in the cards for her. Leela hated the nothing-ass life she’d created for herself and hated her sister even more for not following in her footsteps. Misery loved company, and Leela was standing all alone.
* * *
“Yes, excuse me, but are you Miss Westbrook?” a flower deliveryman asked as Leela approached her front porch.
“Yes, I am, how can I help you?” she asked with excitement, knowing what he had in his hands was obviously for her.
After asking her to sign for the long white red-ribbon-tied box, Leela stood at the top of the stairs elated. She finally had someone to care about her. She didn’t know which one of the many men she banged on the regular had blessed her, but it didn’t matter. These flowers were just what she needed to yank her up out of the funk she’d been in since Devin’s death, or murder, as she often referred to it, as when speaking to her sister. Easing the small envelope off the ribbon, Leela opened it and read the card out loud.
Ava, Steak or Lobster? Diamonds or Pearls? Your choice. Call you soon. S.
Leela was heated. Jealously kicked in. Her blood boiled. She thought back to how their mother used to make her wait on her little sister hand and foot. That right there was the original root of all the hate and resentful feelings toward them both. Leela had a love-hate relationship with most of the people in her life, and there were no exceptions.
Fuck you, nigga. Leela wished Stackz could hear her thoughts after reading his note to Ava. “And for you, bitch, ain’t gonna be no damn joy in your forecast today, little Ms. Sunshine. That’s a wrap!” Lifting the lid on the trash can, Leela maliciously tossed the whole box of flowers inside before closing it down. Storming up the stairs and onto the porch, she slammed the door shut, not once looking back.
* * *
Ava was at the doctor’s office and couldn’t get her mind right. She found herself fucking up on her hustle, knowing that was costing her money. She not only sold scripts, she also put together doctor excuses for a fee. Preoccupied, she’d messed up two different women’s paperwork and had to spend double the time correcting them. Knowing she had to be on top of her game when it came to dealing with the official doctor’s excuses as well as the scripts for this pill or that, Ava fought with herself to get it together. The more she tried, she just couldn’t get Stackz out of h
er head. She reflected back to him holding her tight close to his body and got chills.
She closed her eyes and was back in the hallway naked and afraid, yet aroused by Stackz polished thug demeanor. She wanted to believe she was tripping when he had her pressed against him, but thought she felt his dick getting hard. And if she did, it felt thick and long. Like he had said, God blessed her. If what she felt between his legs was real-life true, God had blessed him as well. Knowing she had to get back in the zone, she got Stackz out of her mind, then stole another few scripts.
* * *
Ava came home from a long day at school and work. Pulling up in front of the house, she got instantly annoyed. It was bad enough her sister didn’t pay any bills around there and had no problem playing her music loudly into the wee hours of the morning. Most days, Ava didn’t trip on that. But the thing that always got her heated was Leela would have nothing-ass people hanging out at the house that seemed not to give a damn about where they’d toss their garbage. They would leave trash in the yard and all on the porch like they thought they were at a park in the hood. “I swear I’m gonna throw this chick out one day. All I ask this girl to do is take care of the house, and she can’t even do that.”
Ava set her work bag on steps and began picking up trash in the yard. With a handful of paper, along with a beer can, she opened the trash can lid. Seconds before tossing the debris inside, Ava was taken aback about what she was seeing. She wondered who would dump a box of fresh flowers in her garbage can, of all cans. Seeing the envelope thrown on the side of the box, lying on top of a half-eaten apple, Ava wanted to be nosey and reached inside to pull it out.
The ecstatic emotion Ava was feeling, that Stackz was thinking about her and had made the first move, was short-lived. She was livid, knowing there could only be one person that petty who would’ve taken flowers meant for her and thrown them away: Leela’s bitter ass.
Her days are numbered around here! Ole rotten, can’t-get-right bitch! Ready to do battle, Ava headed to Leela’s door and let herself in. No sooner had she stepped inside the threshold, Ava cut off into her always-known-to-be-spiteful sister. “You come-drunk slimeball, why the fuck you throw my flowers in the trash that Stackz sent me?”
Leela put on a real show, acting like she didn’t know what Ava was talking about. She claimed she’d never seen any flowers and blamed it on one of the neighbor’s kids.
“Really? One of the neighbor’s kids? You must think I’m dumb or something. You just jealous like you always been. Shit don’t make no kind of sense. I’m so tired of your bullshit!”
Leela was in defense mode but still tried to cover her tracks. “You know what, Ava? Fuck you! Ain’t nobody jealous of you or them dumb-ass ugly roses! And you tired of me? I been tired of you too!”
“Well, guess what? Since we both so tired, how about you get all your shit together and GTFO! Beat it! I’m done!”
“What, bitch?” Leela shouted back. “Really? That’s how you gon’ do me?”
Ava laughed as she headed out the door. “Yeah, Leela, I’m gonna do you just like that. And for the record, if you didn’t know anything about any flowers, how did you know they were roses?”
As Leela stood there busted, looking stupid, Ava rolled her eyes and reinforced that she was done, and sister or not, Leela had to start to find another place to live. Leela set the back of Ava’s head on fire with her eyes.
* * *
Ava sat in her bedroom thinking about her and Leela having words. She felt like she’d done all she could to help her. Thank God neither of them was dead from the constant drama Leela kept them in. Ava loved her sister but couldn’t understand why she was always so envious of her. She recalled when they were teenagers, Leela was putting out, but Ava wasn’t. And, of course, Leela gave Ava’s boyfriend the pussy. That moment changed everything between them for life. From that day on, she never trusted her sister around any man that she was dealing with, knowing Leela had no boundaries.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T. L. sat in his rental car at the corner of Rank’s block, watching his house like a hawk. Some of his boys had put him up on where Rank and Mickey were posted at most days. Wanting to be as thorough as he could when putting in work, he studied their every move. If they went to the corner store, McDonald’s, or even the gas station for a swisher, he followed. When Mickey visited his grandfather in the nursing home, T. L. was there. When Rank thought he was sneaking around the block to get some late-night pussy from the next bitch, T. L. was there posted as well. T. L. smoked a blunt and listened to his music to get his mind right. He’d paid good money for these fools’ address, and from the looks of things, he was getting his money’s worth.
He’d been on post watching them come and go all day and half the night. Seeing them together, one with an arm sling, the other with a bandage on his head, T. L. laughed, flashing back to seeing them on the video bloodied, defeated, and running for their lives. It took everything in him not to flick the fully auto switch on the Mac 90 that was in his lap and shut the block down. And when they went into the house, T. L. fought not to just walk up to the front door and knock on it, and when they opened the door, force his way in and lay everybody in the house facedown. At this point, Rank and Mickey were living off pure luck because all Stackz had to do was give T. L. the green light, and they’d be toast.
T. L. called Stackz, telling him exactly where he was at. After talking for a brief moment or two, Stackz praised him for finding the location of the soon-to-be-dead cohorts of Devin. Suggesting to T. L. to not make a move, but instead, continue to keep a keen eye on them, T. L. was low-key disturbed he wouldn’t be putting in any real work on them, but kept his true feelings to himself. He knew Stackz was the leader and trusted him to do just that—lead.
T. L. slid down slowly in the driver’s seat as he talked on the phone to Stackz. He seethed with fury as he gave him play-by-play of what he was seeing. The police detectives had just showed up at Rank’s house and appeared to be asking Rank and Mickey questions. As they stood outside in the front yard, T. L. watched each person’s hand gestures and body movements. He couldn’t hear what was being said, if it was good or bad. However, regardless, being seen even talking to the police or saying good morning to their crooked asses ain’t ever been a good look in the law book of the streets.
Stackz and T. L. went back and forth over whether he thought Rank and Mickey were standing strong keeping their mouths shut like real niggas in the streets were supposed to do in the face of trouble, or were they being full-blown rat pussies doing the homicide detectives’ job for them. Not knowing for sure what the conversation was, selling the idea to Stackz that they had to be bagged and toe tagged to ensure his continued freedom was not an automatic go. Stackz told T. L. to use his head not his gun all the time. He explained that if Mickey and Rank had any intentions of telling what they knew about Devin’s necessary death and their being shot, the damage was already done. If not, just fall back. Their time to die would be coming soon enough.
T. L. agreed with Stackz as he cracked his car window a little bit more seeing some sort of commotion starting to pop off. Leaning over toward the window as much as possible, the detectives could be heard raising their voices at Rank and Mickey.
“Okay, it’s fine with me if you two don’t mind taking up space in the already overpacked city morgue. When you lying on that cold-ass steel table, you’ll wish you would’ve talked then so we can get this monster off the streets,” one detective smartly remarked as he turned walking away toward their car.
Not to be outdone, his partner chimed in, cosigning on what they knew Mickey and Rank’s near future more than likely held. “Yeah, let’s go, Bob. We’ll be back to either arrest these clowns for murder or notify their people where they need to go to identify their bodies. Fuck these assholes and all that no-snitch bullshit they adhere to!”
T. L. watched the police skirt off, livid they’d have to actually do some real detective work themselves to e
arn their paychecks. It was clear at that point in time neither Rank nor Mickey was giving the cops information on who killed their boy. The cops pushed it to them that by doing so, they were causing enormous medical bills to rack up that neither would be able to pay; least not in this lifetime.
T. L. put his mentor up on the theatrics that had just taken place and what was said by the cops. Stackz praised T. L. once again for being a true soldier. He then advised him to keep tabs on Rank and Mickey as best he could, but first and foremost, take care of his own business getting that bread and keeping the ticket straight.
* * *
Inside of Rank’s mother’s house, he sat at the dining-room table all fucked up; his head bandaged, eye swollen, and stitches in his face. His pride chewed up, spit out, and stomped on. Mickey fared no better, his arm in a sling from a bullet hole in his shoulder the size of a half dollar, and every time he breathed in or out, he was in pain. On top of all that, every time he blinked his eyes, he could see Devin’s face turn into blood and bones. Since hiding behind that Dumpster, Mickey had nightmares of being shot at by Stackz repeatedly. He wanted revenge, hoping some type of “get back” would stop the torment he was going through in his mind.
With a floral-designed hijab covering her head, Rank’s Muslim mother sat at the table, Quran in hand. Trying to convince her son Raakin, or Rank, as he was known in the streets, and Mickey, to tell the police what they needed to know to catch the person who killed Devin, she prayed. She’d known Devin since he was a young child and knew he’d been trouble since back then. She never wanted her son to hang with Devin, but Rank was grown and had other ideas about how he was going to live his life. Asking them if somebody killed them, wouldn’t they want somebody to be brave enough to speak up? With no filter, they each got disrespectful with their response.
“Damn, Ma, you need to stay out of our business. Fuck the police. They don’t really give a damn about us. They glad Devin’s dead ’cause he’s one less nigga they gotta deal with out here. You think they really care if they find whoever did that? Hell naw! They don’t, but I do, and ole boy that hit me gonna pay with his life!”
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