by Dutch
He looked up and into the barrel of Rome’s Glock nine. He still had his pistol, but he knew he couldn’t aim it quicker than Rome’s bullet would enter his brain.
“Man, please—”
Boom!
Banks closed his eyes, waiting for death to claim him. But in the nano second it took him to realize he wasn’t hit, he opened his eyes to see a blank look on Rome’s face, then he just collapsed. Behind him was a female that looked just like a singer his mind was to frazzled to recall, except she wasn’t holding a mic, she was aiming a gun. The gun that had killed Rome. She winked at Banks then ran off. Banks didn’t know who she was, but he certainly wasn’t sticking around to find out. He slid the car into drive and peeled out.
Kev quickly changed clips, pocketed the empty one then locked and loaded the .40 caliber. He had come prepared just in case Banks was trying to set him up and bring Vee. Now that he had him in his sights, he wasn’t going to let him leave alive.
Vee gripped both pistols, squatting behind a car some seven cars away from Kev. He was just as determined to dead Kev. They had concentrated on no one but each other the full five minutes the shootout had been blazing. But Vee possessed an upper hand that made him smirk as he rose with a grunt and aimed at Kev’s location.
Kev rose almost at the same time, but he was a hair quicker than Vee. His first slug threw Vee back against the car behind him, catching him square in the chest. Seeing he had shot Vee and the look of anguish on Vee’s face, he squeezed off three more in his chest before Vee’s body slumped out of sight. Kev waited no time rounding the car and running up on Vee.
Ty scoped the area, trying to get a bead on Vee’s position. He saw Kev when he hit Vee up then ran around to finish him. Ty took off behind him to hold his brother down.
Kev aimed the pistol at Vee until he held it poised for a head shot. “For Guy, motherfucka!” he barked at the same time he pulled the trigger. The gun jammed.
He had been squeezing round after round fluidly, now the gun had jammed. He squeezed again and again, nothing. Vee could hear his own heartbeat as he lay on the concrete. His breathing was heavy and his chest felt like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer over and over. But the vest had done its job. Now with Kev standing over him, Ms. Sadie was doing her job. Her power had never failed him. He opened his eyes and squeezed the trigger.
“Kev!” Ty shouted, seeing his brother’s body stumble back. He hurried to his side.
The first bullet entered Kev’s open mouth and exited out the back of his neck. The second shot entered his right eye socket, killing him before his body hit the ground. As he fell back, his body tensed and his finger squeezed the trigger.
Boom! Boom!
The shot went towards the sky as he fell back.
Vee rolled over and stumbled to his feet in a crouching position. The sound of an army of sirens filled the distance. Mission complete, it was time to make his exit.
Ty ran up busting his gun recklessly, tears streaming. Car windows exploded and metal bumpers sparked from the gun shots in Vee’s wake. Ty could make out the tail end of his movements and yelled, “Vee! Nigguh, ain’t nowhere you can go! I swear on everything I love, you dead!”
He turned to Kev sobbing then dropped to his knees beside his brother. “Kev… damn, Kev. I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry!” he wept, thinking of his mother’s conniving plan for mastery of the family. It was she who had set off the chain of events that ended his brother’s life, and now that Ty knew, he too felt responsible.
“Ty, we gotta go!” Asia urged him, taking Kev’s gun and cell phone. “Now!”
She grabbed Ty’s arm and he allowed her to lead him away reluctantly. The shootout had lasted less than six minutes and in that short blink of an eye, the world had changed for Ty.
As Ty drove, Asia tried to call Banks to put Kev’s Plan B into motion. He didn’t answer. Asia smiled to herself because she knew Plan C wouldn’t fail. She texted Brooklyn.
Kev’s gone. Vee got away.
Banks looked at his cell phone ringing with Kev’s number, but he wasn’t about to answer. His mind was filled with guilt and fear. The team Vee had sent to his crib called him. He reluctantly answered. All he heard was the sound of screams and tortured moans. They had stabbed them all repeatedly, his grandmother, mother, father and little sister. Then they punctuated the murderous statement with, “You next, rat ass nigguh!”
He was terrified. Banks didn’t want any part of Vee, Kev or the whole beef. He planned on getting away as far as he could and then calling Kev from a new cell claiming to have lost the old one.
Matter of fact, he thought, lowering the window. He tossed the ringing cell out on to the street. He needed to dump the Camry then grab a cab and take it all the way to Charlotte. From there, he’d be home free.
He pulled the Camry over at McDonald’s on I-40. He’d call a cab and eat while he waited. Banks brought his order out to the car and popped the trunk to grab the fifty grand.
Fzzztttzzz!
The metallic whoosh of a shot fired through a silencer caught him in the side and knocked him to the ground. Brooklyn quickly climbed out of the trunk and stood over a stunned Banks.
“Fifty thousand never looked this good, huh?” Brooklyn smirked.
“But you—” Banks gasped, remembering the angelic face that murdered Rome. His mind couldn’t wrap around how the fuck she got in the trunk.
Brooklyn smiled, reading his mind. “I’m everywhere. Now,” she replied, pulling him up by the collar, “show me where this nigguh rest at.”
“You sure?” Brooklyn asked firmly, the silenced .45 to the back of Banks head.
He was too petrified to do anything but nod. Brooklyn looked at the plush apartment Cat lived at and scanned the area for signs of movement.
“G?” she asked.
“Yeah, ma, apartment G,” he confirmed, feeling like he had fulfilled his part, but just to make sure, he added, “I was gonna dead the nigguh myself for Kev. I got Kev 100%... you want me to roll wit’ you?”
“Naw,” Brooklyn whispered.
Ppzzzfftzz!
The silenced messenger of death sparked, leaving Banks slumped against the steering wheel.
“You just wait here.”
Brooklyn got out the car, tucking Banks’ pistol in her waist. She slid along the edge of the parking lot, staying in the shadows and away from the street lights. She came up on Vee’s apartment and cautiously checked the windows. When she got to the back door, she saw the ADT sticker on the window. She had toyed with the idea of breaking in and waiting inside, but the sticker deaded that idea. Even if it was a front, she didn’t want to chance it.
Brooklyn walked through the breezeway to the front door thinking of her next move. Right across from Vee’s door was apartment F. Brooklyn nodded to herself, concealed her gun behind her back, then knocked on the door. A few moments later a young white girl opened the door.
“Hi!” Brooklyn chimed, her face lit up with that little girl smile. “I’m Tammy and I’m staying with my brother across the hall, maybe you’ve seen him? Anyway, I was wondering and I really hate to bother you, but do you have any parmesan? I’m making this incredible lasagna. Do you like Italian? You look sorta Italian yourself. Anyway, can I come in?” Brooklyn talked so fast and smiled so sweetly, she talked herself right into the apartment.
Vee turned into his parking lot in the same late model Lincoln Mike G drove to the mall. Inside, he felt sick. Banks may have betrayed him, but they had come up together and put in work together. He regretted making the call that got his whole family slaughtered in cold blood, but he had to make an example and Banks’ family became just that. It would also lead to an investigation that would ultimately come back to haunt him. He didn’t know if Banks was dead, but Vee was determined he would be.
He also saw Mike G go down and there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know if Rome had got away, but he had a nagging feeling that he hadn’t. His whole team was gone and he still had Ty
to contend with.
Vee opened the door slowly, rubbing his face, his mind heavy with thought.
Inside apartment F, the white girl and her boyfriend cowered face down on the floor with their hands behind their head.
“Please, take what—” the white boy begged, but Brooklyn cut him off.
“Sssshhh!” Brooklyn whispered harshly. She had waited patiently for Vee to pull up. When he did, she was ready. She couldn’t see his face but her street instincts said it was him. She watched him get out the car, and she planned to catch him slipping as he unlocked the front door.
“That’s it, boo, come to mami,” Brooklyn sang, peeping out the window.
Vee closed the car door and took a step. His cell rang. He started to ignore it, but when he saw Cat’s name, he quickly answered.
“What’s up, baby?” he said, but heard nothing. “Baby?” he repeated then the call cut off. He stopped and looked at the phone.
“The fuck is he doin’?” Brooklyn thought out loud. She wondered if she rushed him right then would she be able to catch him before he got on point.
Vee dialed Cat’s number. She answered.
“Cat?” he said with concern. All he heard was incoherent babble then she screamed and dropped the phone. “Cat???” he yelled into the phone.
All Vee could think was some how Ty had found out she was in B-More. His agile mind remembered the chick who was with Tre’ when she recognized Cat from Morgan University. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was gonna find out right then. He quickly back tracked and jumped in the car, peeling off.
“Shit!” Brooklyn cursed in agony. “Fuck! I don’t know who that was but they just save yo’ life, boo,” she said as if Vee could here her. She texted Asia then turned to the white couple.
“Please! Anything you want!” the white boy offered.
“Anything?”
“Yes, yes!” he replied.
“In that case… I want no witnesses,” Brooklyn smirked.
The two shots were quick, painless and above all, effective.
Debra drove to the hospital after going home and taking a shower. She dressed casually in a cashmere track suit and sneakers, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. She thought about all that had transpired and she wondered how Ty was taking it. She knew he loved Guy and it hurt her knowing he was stuck in the middle. She didn’t regret what she had done, but she did wish there had been another way. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Guy, because in her own way she did. She just loved herself more. Debra had always been a survivor and her first law was self-preservation.
She got to the hospital and headed to Guy’s room. When she turned the corner, she saw a familiar site. Gloria. She started to say something, but seeing Gloria holding Guy’s hand in tears, she paused and listened.
“Baby, please, I-I need you! Please God bring him back to me! Guy, fight, baby, please… fight! Oh God, I’ll give up anything, just let him live!” Gloria cried out in an anguished tone of prayer.
Debra opened her mouth to say something, but her voice caught in her throat when Gloria screamed like she was in pain.
“Yes, Lord! God is great!” Gloria exclaimed loudly.
The pitch of her scream brought three nurses running into the room, brushing past a stunned Debra. Gloria had screamed not of pain, but out of joy when she felt Guy squeeze her hand back. The nurses joined in with Gloria, dis-playing degrees of excitement from professional to spiritual.
Debra had just witnessed the power of prayer right before her eyes; yet, it had brought about her worst night-mare as Guy opened his eyes and looked straight at Debra.
Chapter 15
Debra and Guy’s eyes meet from across the room. Cliché to a degree, but a dream come true for Debra. It was 1985 and Guy was the man to see. From Charlotte to Wilmington and across South Carolina, he was the chief Heroin connect. Not many knew the extent of his operation, only the chosen few that he considered trustworthy.
Po’ Charlie was schooling him well, teaching him to stay under the radar and make the kind of relationships that would be beneficial in the long run. Guy even associated himself with a church and became a mason. He was only thirty-three and well on his way to an illustrious career in the game. He had bought his parents a big ranch- style house in the Eastern Wayne District, a well- to-do area of Goldsboro.
“You know what somebody said to me the other day?” Willie had told him one day.
“What?”
“Some cat came in the pool room and said Simmons? Oh, you Guy Simmons’ daddy!” Willie chuckled.
At first Guy was puzzled why it was funny. Then he remembered telling Willie that very thing would happen. He no longer lived in his father’s shadow.
Guy had Debra enchanted. She had heard so much about the infamous Guy Simmons. She had seen him from time to time, but never close enough to make her presence felt, and she knew she had a presence that needed to be felt. She was 5’9” and 160 pounds of southern comfort that curved around the scrumptious measure-ment of 34-26-42. Those were the types of numbers a poor man dreamed of hitting and the heavenly combination to a rich man’s every fantasy. Her captivatingly deceptive hazel eyes, kewpie doll nose and long brown hair spoke of her Indian ancestry she inherited from her mother.
She could tell Guy liked what he saw from the way his eyes sparkled and he lifted his glass to drink to her. But then again, very few men didn’t like what they saw in Debra, until they got to her heart. Her game was waterproof like fish pussy, so a nigguh had to play slick just to hold her attention. Guy not only held her attention, he owned it. He had that combination of southern charm and city slickness that was intriguing to a small town girl like Debra.
A small town girl with big dreams. Her parents were both hard workers and sought to instill morals and principles in Debra. Her mother, who was equally gorgeous, had told Debra at the time, “Your beauty can be a gift and a curse,” but Debra used it like Voodoo. She had been fucking since she was twelve and selling pussy at fourteen. By seventeen, she had entered the young Brah Hardy’s stable.
Brah wasn’t a bona fide pimp, just the consummate hustler. Debra successfully manipulated Brah’s bottom bitch out of the way then gamed her way to the prized position of being Brah’s woman. This was how she came to be at Schroco’s Lounge, sending subliminals across the room to Guy, while Brah sat inches from her.
To Debra, Brah was just a come-up. His name was definitely ringing bells, but Guy, he was in a whole other league. The big leagues, the level she had her sight set on. It was her 19th birthday and she decided right then Guy would be her birthday gift to herself.
“Punk motherfucka,” Brah mumbled under his breath, violently stabbing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“You okay, baby?” Debra chimed.
“Yeah.” He had seen Guy come in as well. He couldn’t stand how motherfuckas acted when he was in the room. It was like the second coming of Christ! Hustlers shook his hand and sent him bottles, while the women giggled and blushed at his slightest acknowledgement. Guy moved through the room with an undeniable swag, while Hawk Bill and Scatter stuck to him like Secret Service agents.
Guy stopped to show love to BooCore, another major player with a major organization except his product was cocaine. Brah despised both men, because he didn’t see either one as real street nigguhs. The were ex-school boys that lived off of their family name in Guy’s case and lucked up on a major connect in BooCore’s case.
“Come on, baby, dance wit’ me,” Debra urged.
“For what?” Brah snapped.
“Don’t act like that, Willie. It’s my birthday,” Debra pouted, grabbing his hand as she stood up. “And I wanna dance.”
Brah took one look at the silk bodysuit that hugged her curves so lovely, he couldn’t help but smile. He had the baddest chick in the club, so why not flaunt it?
But Debra had another agenda. They slid to the dance floor as the DJ played Teena Marie’s “Casanova Brown.” Debra purposely positione
d herself so her ass was facing Guy and proceeded to let him see what he could have.
Brah grinded her close, dipping her smoothly the way a player slow dragged. He caught Guy looking at Debra’s ass and smiled. He slid his hands to her ass and squeezed it lustfully.
Guy chuckled to himself, because he knew the bitch was in the bag. Besides, she was Brah’s, which made taking her that much sweeter.
When Brah and Debra got back to the table, she noticed her daiquiri had been replaced with a fresh one. As she sat, she picked up the drink and saw a small heart had been drawn on the napkin. She smiled, dabbed her lips with the napkin then discreetly slid it into her bosom. She knew who had sent it and what was on it.
“Hello? May I speak to Guy?” Debra asked, calling Guy the next day.
“Yeah this is me, sweetness. I been waitin’ for you to call me all day,” Guy charmed, talking on the private line in Willie’s pool room. It was where he handled most of his business and arranged his extra marital affairs out of respect for Gloria and their house-hold.
“Mmm-mmm, I bet,” Debra giggled, “you don’t even know who this is?”
“You right, but I do know this is Debra and I thought that’s why you were calling so I could get to know you.”
Debra loved the way Guy’s voice sounded. Smooth as warm brandy, intoxicating her senses. “Depends on what you wanna know?” Debra flirted, like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Everything, sweetness, everything. But listen, I don’t do too much talking on the phone, so I’m a see you in about twenty minutes. Cherelle and Alexander O’Neal doin’ a show in Raleigh. That enough time for you to get ready and figure out what you gonna tell Brah?” Guy said, and she could hear his smirk over the phone.
Debra couldn’t help but smile, because that was exactly what she was thinking. “I’m a grown woman, Mr. Simmons, and my daddy don’t look nothin’ like Brah Hardy. But you’ll find all that out soon enough,” Debra huffed with a feigned attitude.