by Brick
I could tell Jojo to come get me. He knew about Cory and me. He would come get me if I needed him to.
“Hello,” I answered while looking for shoes so I could get out.
“Help me,” Jojo said before I could tell him what was going on.
“Wha . . . What? What’s wrong, Jojo?”
“Help me, sis. I’m trapped. Where Cory? I need help, please!”
Cory came storming from the bedroom and I threw the phone at him. “It’s Jojo,” I said frantically. “Something’s wrong. He needs our help.”
Cory stopped stalking me. He stared me down. I could see the devil in his eyes, but I also saw that flicker of something turning off. He kneeled to pick up the phone.
“Where you at, Jojo?” he asked into the phone, all the while keeping his eyes on me. “Stay there. We’re coming.”
Cory hung up the phone. I was happy he didn’t come for me. He went to the closet and grabbed down two guns.
“Get your shoes on,” he said to me.
I didn’t ask any questions. Jojo needed us. That was all that mattered.
Chapter 18
Cory
Shit, I was fucked up. I mean I was on that level of fucked up where even I knew I needed to step back and chill. Of course, that clarity didn’t come forth until Inez threw that fucking phone at me and told me Jojo was in trouble. Thinking about that though was pissing me the fuck off and I wanted to slam my fist against the side of Inez’s face. Fuck. I was on another plane, the type that had the sane part of me looking from a locked chamber in my mind, telling the fucked up half of me to chill. The fucked-up part of me that was wrapped in anger about my childhood and Mama’s murder. The part that was using everyone around me to get my high and get whatever fucking shit I wanted. Money, pussy, promotions at work.
Damn, I was fucked up and, sadly, I liked it too much.
Quiet and in my thoughts, I glanced in the rearview mirror at Inez. She had been smart not to sit near me. Part of me was pissed at her ingenuity to not even broach the waters of sitting by me as if we were good about how she hit me. See, I knew her mind. In her mind, it was all me in this. I was the lone abuser, the lone monster, but how I’d tell it, I’d bring up the time she wilded out on me and sliced me across the chest with a kitchen knife because she was pissed about me not coming home at night. Or the other time she sliced my arm, because I hadn’t brought her a pair of shoes she wanted. Or when she cut my abs, because she thought I was talking to some young bitches in her complex, which I really wasn’t. That was one day I wasn’t thinking about pussy actually.
But fuck it, let’s act like it’s all me.
Glaring at her, I rubbed my nose. These drugs were fucking me up majorly and fucking her up royally. Whenever I got pissed it was because she threatened to speak with my brother about what was going on between us. It always angered me. It felt like a fucking copout on half the shit she did to me, like blow out the tires of my cars and bash the windows in because she was pissed about me ignoring her when I was watching the game or writing a deposition. Most times I could hide what was going on between us, but the time she busted out my windows I had to borrow money from Javon to get that shit fixed. I told him it was some chick I was fucking who got mad about some shit I’d done. It was partially the truth. Granted, she was fucking high as hell when it happened. Yet, she did that shit. In this battle with each other, we provoked each other, equally. Even-steven. So, I’d be damned if she’d put it all on me and have my brother find out about it.
That nigga Javon was faultless. Even in his anger, nigga always could emote that shit just right. I never could and wouldn’t it be my luck to end up with a female with the same type of anger issues as myself. I don’t even know how it came to be, when the switch turned from me seeing Inez as family to seeing her as being my own family, my own makings of a Shanelle. I really don’t know, but it went that way.
We were good before I allowed my drinking to turn into being addicted to using different types of drugs I could find. I thought I was micromanaging it, being a functional addict but that truth slipped further and further away from me, then disappeared when Mama was killed.
I was now a monster-ass nigga and I kinda liked it, but only when I got perks and only if I could make Inez do whatever I wanted and needed. See, it was crazy. Inez’s background was simple and to the point. She came from a house of drugs just like a few of us did, so she knew firsthand what living with an addict could be like. However, when she got into med school, I guess the stress of it all made it easy for her to fall into using the very same drugs she thought she hated at one time, just to make it through her education.
When she couldn’t easily get what she needed at the hospitals, she took from my stash that she found. When I learned of that, shit pissed me off until I saw how pliable she became. So, in our addiction we became addicted to each other, feeding off each other, vibing off each other, until we fell into the void. We were once good to each other. Once, uplifting to each other, and now, all we were to each other was damaged goods.
“Where is Jojo now?” I said with an edge in my voice.
Inez stayed pressed against the door of my ride, as if trying to make herself invisible as she held her cell phone to her ear. “He . . . He said that he’s near Princeton Street. Behind the old dean’s house of the high school,” she directed with a tremble in her voice.
Jerking forward, Inez gripped the seat of the car in a rush. “Wait. He said he’s running past some houses. Stewart Street. He passed a big white mansion.”
“Tell that little nigga to find a safe spot to hide and wait on me. We’re in the area and if he keeps moving, I won’t be able to get him,” I said speeding down Princeton. “I’m pretty sure the cops are on the way since his black ass is running through money village.”
I was annoyed yet again. I was pretty damn sure that Jojo had gotten himself mixed up with X-clusive over his distribution. I told him to be smarter about it and to spread his business wide, but nah. He never listened. Now he was in some shit, and I had to clean it up.
Gunshots rang to the right of me. It was close to the point that I whipped my ride around, headed toward where it came from, and ran up to a bunch of preppy white and black kids sprinting down the block. Shaking off my high, I pressed the gas, and sped up in my Benz. I knew that shit was loud and was drawing attention, but I didn’t give a fuck. Niggas were gunning for my baby brother and that wasn’t fucking acceptable.
“Oh my God! Cory, go left, there he is! He hopped a fence,” she said all loud and shit in my ear.
“Calm the fuck down, Inez!” I barked at her looking over my shoulder at her and snarling.
Inez slunk back in my car and then proceeded to tell Jojo to stay where he was, which was a smart move.
My attention was on getting my brother at that point, and once I made it to where he was, I parked, and jumped out of my ride. A lot of the crew who followed my brother ran off when they saw me, but a few kept going not noticing me. Sprinting as if I were playing football again, I tackled a blond nigga who had a gun. Forcing my forearm in his throat, my lips pierced and I tilted my head in annoyance.
“Crum? So, you thought that you could kill my brother,” I said in annoyance. “Nigga, his black life matters, and I guess all that terror your people got about us is right in this moment, because your life don’t mean shit to me right now. Say night-night.”
Flipping his gun from his hand, I used his own finger to pull the trigger. I watched in satisfaction as I blasted a bullet into his skull. The shock on his face was humorous to me and annoying at the same time.
“Damn shame, another white suicide due to doing white thangs.” Pushing up, I looked around. The softness of grass pressed in my palms and I pushed my locs out of my face as I squatted in place.
“Jojo!” I shouted.
It was then that I was ambushed and felt myself partially lifted up when someone rushed me. Falling backward, I struggled with whoever was on me until I got
a clear hold of the kid’s neck and snapped it. My lips curled to flash my teeth, and I rolled away dropping the random kid on top of Crum. Gotdamn, this base mix of drugs had me feeling like Hulk.
Laughing, I stood up. It was crazy, because I had no emotion about what had just happened. I just blew it off, brushed myself off, and rolled my shoulders. “Who’s next?” I nonchalantly asked.
Tensions were thick and, again, I enjoyed it. I was about to say something smart-mouth again, when a sudden rustling came from the left of me. Like a deer frozen in fear, I looked to the left of me and got ready to body block another nigga until I saw that it was Jojo. Little nigga appeared out of the foliage of some bushes and held his hands up staring at me.
“It’s me. It’s me,” he said in fright.
Two strides had me slamming my fist in his face. The force was hard enough to knock him back on the soft ground where I stood over his stupid ass. My body was like a furnace in my rage.
“What the fuck type shit got you being chased by these pussy-ass bitches huh? You fuck up another deal, nigga?” I barked at him still high off my kills and the drugs coursing through my system. Liquid ran down my nose and I wiped it away noticing that it was blood while I hunkered over him.
“Cory, leave him alone please! He almost lost his life, you see he’s hurt,” Inez screamed at me rushing over Jojo, pulling him into her arms. “Oh, Jojo! They shot you.” Tears fell down Inez as she rocked him against him.
Realizing what she said was true, I stepped up, but fell back when Jojo pushed out of Inez’s hold. “Fuck you, nigga,” Jojo yelled at me.
His eyes were bloodshot behind his crooked glasses. Behind him was his book bag and he held his bloody arm as he glared at me. To me, he looked crazed and I liked the look.
“I asked for help, not for you to beat my ass. I’m tired you putting hands on me, on Inez!” he said in fury and pain.
Fists clenched I stepped forward and snarled, “Nigga, fuck your tears. Grow the hell up and get your life, dude. Sometimes you have to be roughened up to get the bigger picture. You think Mama was able to do what she did if she didn’t have it in her to fuck people up like me, huh?”
“I’m not trying to be like Mama or you. I just—”
“You just what huh?” I interrupted. “You out here slinging. You’ve been slinging when she was alive, so what the fuck do you think you been doing, huh? Being just like me and Mama.”
Tears ran down Jojo’s face. He stared at me as if he hated the very air I breathed and, funny enough, I didn’t give two shits. His thoughts meant nothing to me in my high. He wasn’t blood, so he could kiss my ass with the emotional bullshit.
“I’m not trying to be like you. Not trying to be kingpin and shit. You’re selling to Rize and their Lions? X-clusive came after me because I told them I was done. Mama is gone, so there was no point in me selling anymore,” he said fisting his hands. “When I said that, they thought I was selling with Rize because they had my Poppers. I know I wasn’t selling to them so that leaves you. Only had the bulk of it, so you almost got me killed!”
Confusion had me tilting my head at my baby brother. I blinked several times, trying to process. Like what the fuck?
I laughed. “Nigga, who are you to question how I handled your product huh? Second, I don’t know a motherfucking thing about Rize or some Lions. I don’t sell in bulk to the streets. My bulk supplies only go to the rich fuckers I get through my work as a lawyer. I sell up to make ducats, and sell down to fuck around.” I laughed. I liked that rhyme, might remember it for later.
“They said Rize and the Lions have Poppers. Only you had them, nigga. Only you! And now they’re trying to kill me,” Jojo repeated in exasperation.
His shoulders rose up and down. Sweat beaded his temples. His hair was disheveled and nappy. His clothes were fucked up. His new kicks were all kinds of dirty, which annoyed me. Then, on top of that, he purposely kept himself in front of Inez in fear that I might go for her, I figured. As if I was going to beat her ass in front of him. Shit. I wasn’t going to put my hands on the girl. Or him. Not yet. I wasn’t in the mindset of it. Give me some damn credit here. Either way, what he was telling me had me thinking. Until I figured out what was up.
“I sold a bulk of the Poppers to the nigga whose club we took for Melissa as a way to keep him in my pocket. I’m thinking that in order to gain some ducats back, he sold to whoever Rize is,” I said in thought starting to feel beyond pissed off. “It wasn’t me and if X-clusive is coming for you like this, then I’ll handle it.”
“How?” Jojo asked staring at me with a stern look.
“Nigga, I’m the right hand to a killer, that’s how. I’ll take care of it. I’m dropping you off at Inez and mine’s crib. She’ll patch you up, won’t you?” I said looking at Inez.
“You know I will, papi,” she said with slight tone.
“Chill with ya nuts finally dropping, nigga. I’m not in the mood.” I thumbed my nose then stared at both Jojo and Inez’s scary fucking asses. Man, fuck them.
I was incredulous about Jojo asking me how I was going to handle this situation. I was a handler. This was my job. Yeah, I hadn’t been by my brother’s side as he learned the way of the crime syndicate. Shit, the fault was really all mine. I think. Come to think of it, I hadn’t been getting calls from Javon since he came in on me and Jojo talking. Scratching the side of my face in thought, my eyes were wide with my high and I rubbed my ears hearing everything in the night and nothing. Damn. Von might be suspicious about me being MIA a lot. I guess I could flip that to my favor and say it was me working. Hmm, maybe.
Inez grabbed Jojo’s book bag. She frantically rushed around to clean up the surrounding area, while looking around for anything or anyone who might be watching us. After clearing the area, she made sure not to look my way, while helping Jojo to the car. Remembering that Inez had responded in a rude-ass tone, I jumped out of my thoughts and focused back on her. My hands itched to do harm to her, but I kept it cool. Considering how Jojo was watching me, hauling off and punching her ass and yoking his little ass up wasn’t going to happen right now, so I decided to be chill.
“Right.” I turned to look at him over my shoulder while driving off then stopping around a corner. “Tell me everything you know about X-clusive. How they operate, their base, and where they sell. I’ll handle the rest.”
Shifting in the back seat of the car, Jojo reached out to grip the back of my driver’s seat in rage then turn to extend his finger toward the window. “First off, you killed one of the main leaders, Crum, and his sister.”
My eyes followed as he pointed outside the car. Sprawled in lush grass lay the bodies of the kid I killed and the girl whose neck I snapped. They looked like rag dolls and I had no remorse. Shrugging, I dropped my foot on the gas then sped away.
“Shit happens,” was all I said as I went into my pocket, pulled out a blunt, lit it, and drove off with everyone in tow.
Chapter 19
Javon
Yeah, my family was coming apart at the seams. I sat in Mama’s house, staring at her portrait with my fingers over my mouth, my pointer and middle finger over my nose. I was in thought. Deep thoughts. Lucky was back in NYC. The Syndicate was quiet for now and the streets were abuzz about the death of two rich white kids in the same neighborhood as Jojo’s school. When I received the word of that, I had been at home, enjoying breakfast with Shanelle. She had made me a big breakfast. Grits, scrambled eggs, toast with grape jelly, thick-cut bacon, sausage links, and sweet potato pancakes with maple pecan syrup.
She had gone all out and was flexing the fact that she had taken cooking classes just to get better at it for me. I was feeling some small type of normalcy because of it. After putting in an extension of my PTO at work, having the Forty Thieves beef up their security on us and sending word to the Syndicate that I was going to need some time to myself, I realized just how little time I had been spending with the fam. Coming into the fold had taken out a lot of my energy
and it took Shanelle’s loving to get me right on track.
As I sat eating, and feeding Shanelle as she sat on my lap in nothing but my open button-down shirt, the news drew our attention. After that, my cell went off with word from the Forty Thieves about the buzz the killings were causing. Now, I sat with Shanelle behind me staring at my mother in thought. The family needed to talk. I needed to know if Jojo had heard anything at his school about those killings. I needed to talk to Melissa to see what was good on her end with the club. Lamont and I needed to have a discussion about what Shanelle said to me about Inez. In the midst of all of this Uncle Snap, Cory, and I were currently gearing up to speak with Naveen and see where his head was at as well. We all were going through so damn much that it was important that we all checked in with each other; otherwise, the reality of everything could do more damage to us, and not good.
“Do you think we’ll be okay, baby?” Shanelle whispered against my ear as she stood behind my chair with her arms around my neck.
“All I have is hope with that, baby. Mama’s death and her plan have been opening a lot of wounds and weaknesses in us that I never noticed before,” I said while thinking. My fingers shifted into an L against the side of my face as I tapped my finger against my temple. “I’m not liking the feeling that I’m getting in my stomach about this.”
“I know,” Shanelle said moving so that I could stand. “Me too. I had a dream that Mama said that she wasn’t sure if the people she told us to trust should be trusted after all. That she might have been wrong.”
“Damn. Really now.” I shifted in my chair to study Shanelle’s beautiful face and I started thinking back to last night between us.