He took in mind everything that had just popped off in slow motion. He didn’t panic before, during, or now. This wasn’t his first shoot-out with wannabe assholes who mistakenly believed they were about that life and the way he lived, Stackz surely knew it wasn’t his last. Running through in his head the list of things he had to do next, he took a deep breath. #1 Get away from the scene as soon as possible. #2 Get rid of the murder tool after making sure his prints were clean. #3 Call T. L. or Gee for damage control, and lastly, but most importantly, #4 find out who these three clowns are and who their people are. If their folk were in the game, or even dreamed about being in the game, they might have the notion of getting revenge. And if they did feel ballsy, then the body count would have to go up; no questions asked.
Searching the now-seemingly deserted parking lot with his eyes, Stackz wanted nothing more than to go over and spit in Devin’s face but had watched enough episodes of CSI while locked up to know his DNA on the deceased would be like signing his own arrest warrant. Climbing up in his bullet-riddled truck, he prayed it would start. Once again, blessed by the hustle gods, it did. Gun still in one hand, he threw the metal warrior in reverse. Backing out of the lot like a normal person that’d just picked up their carryout, Stackz played his departure cool, seeing how his rear window was shot out.
Driving maybe a good few miles or so, he stumbled up on an abandoned gas station. Full of trash and other debris scattered about here and there, he pulled around to the back. Checking his surroundings for the possibility of late-night crackheads in search of their next blow or greed-driven scrappers who might be lurking, Stackz turned off his headlights. Without fear, he then got out of the truck with his favorite throwaway in tow. Once more, he looked around to see if anyone was out and about. Seeing it was all clear, Stackz wiped the gun clean with not only a dirty rag but some Windex and tire cleaner as well.
As quietly as possible, he lifted the lid of the rusty industrial-size Dumpster. The big blue commercial monster was full beyond capacity with probably just about every discarded unwanted item from nearby residents and other businesses that didn’t want to bother with proper disposal. Trying his best to not inhale the awful stench that leaped into his nostrils, Stackz spit twice. The way it smelled, a dead body might already be in it, so any other random person would definitely think twice about Dumpster diving and lucking up on discovering his gun. Stackz said his final good-byes to the pistol he’d been carrying since his release from prison and tossed it inside its new home. Using a stick, he then covered it up the best he could with the other rubbish. Casually, Stackz walked back to his whip as if he’d not just minutes earlier committed a murder and disposed of the weapon used to commit that felony. Starting the engine, he drove off.
* * *
Stackz did what was next on his list of things to do if he hoped to get away with murder: get ready to call T. L., his always-on-point cleanup man. Extremely loyal and trustworthy, Stackz knew he could count on his young dog. He was a soldier in the true sense of the word. Stackz been feeding and grooming T. L. since he was nine years old and his mama was out there getting high, addicted to crack, heroin, and popping pills. T. L. saw a lot growing up and had been through shit no kid should have to. Stackz and his little brother had stepped up and practically raised T. L. Stackz and Gee used to trap out of his mama’s crib. When they saw the conditions he was subjected to, the two of them took him into their own home, treating him like a son, making sure he went to the best school, buying him everything a normal kid should have, and should have kept him doing right, but the streets were embedded in T. L.’s DNA. Having everything still couldn’t quench the thirst for the street life out of him. So they kept “their son” close to them every day, teaching him so he’d learn how to think like a gangster and move like a boss.
They could count on him to get whatever task at hand done; quickly and efficiently. Still haunted by his mother throwing him away like garbage, T. L. was resentful at times and a known hothead when need be. However, he looked upon Stackz and Gee like the father figures he never had; he was their family. And he was willing to do anything to protect his kin; blood or not.
Now, T. L. was loved by many and feared by the shady-ass seedy side of Detroit just like Stackz wanted and needed a true hood warrior to be. T. L. could put in work and clean up the dirt he or Gee couldn’t touch.
With one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand held his cell. Pushing the button on the side, he used the voice command to call T. L. In a matter of seconds, it connected the lines. The phone began to ring as Stackz caught a night air chill from the draft of not having a rear window. Looking over at his radio, Stackz saw the clock on the face read a little bit after three forty-five. Yet, it didn’t matter how early or late it was. T. L. was on call twenty-four-seven always ready for action; good to go. For him, if it meant going to full-blown war at daybreak, he’d be as wide awake as if it was four in the evening.
On the second ring, T. L. answered. “Big bro, what up doe with you?”
“Yo, fam, what it do? I need you on deck ASAP on some real type of no-way-back-from-the-darkness business.” Stackz seethed, still angry the three clowns had forced his hand into murder, even though it was self-defense.
T. L. was at his crib laid up with one of his many FFs, short for fuck friends. He grabbed the remote control to the flat-screen television and pressed mute. Having heard Stackz say “no way back from the darkness,” T. L. sat straight up. He knew that was code name for someone had just got sent on their way. Intensely listening to his mentor run the evening down almost blow by blow, the eager-to-please goon got heated. Remembering he wasn’t alone, he got out of bed with ole girl, not really knowing who she knew or could’ve been related to. She could be playing like she was asleep while ear hustling on the sly.
T. L. understood Detroit was the smallest big city ever, and if a nigga was trying to hide his black ass after doing dirt, unless you were as careful as him, Stackz, and Gee, that feat would be damn near impossible. Gathering his clothes, he got dressed while still listening to Stackz’s game plan. “Yeah go ahead, bro. I’m on you. I’m throwing my shit on now and half out the door on my way.” T. L. left the sleeping female in his bed, knowing she knew better than to touch a damn thing in his crib and risk getting her head knocked clear off her body.
“Okay, dig this here. I need you to shoot over to the spot where we always grab the food from.”
“The spot with the food?” T. L. questioned, wanting to get the facts right.
“Yeah, the spot over from around the way,” Stackz reaffirmed as he slowed down at a red light. “You know, where we hit up at when we come from the club. I had to turn up on these fucking clowns. I guess they was bugging and was sleep on a nigga thinking I was some sort of come up.”
“Word?” T. L. quizzed, grabbing his car keys off the table.
“Yeah, your homegirl a cashier now up in that motherfucker. Taking orders and shit.”
“Who you talking about?”
“You know, what’s her name? The honey with them funny cat eyes. The one you used to run with from the East Side. I saw her name tag, but that shit done slipped my mind.”
From the description Stackz was giving, T. L. easily now knew who he meant. “Oh yeah, Tangy.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s her,” Stackz replied, nodding his head. “She saw the whole play go down; her and the damn cook.”
“Word?”
“Yeah, my dude. So you already know I need that surveillances footage. I can’t risk making the news on some murder shit. You know I get banged on any more felonies, my ass is straight cooked.”
“Naw, naw, say no more, bro-bro. I got this! I’m on it right now! I’m on my way out the door and en route as we speak.” T. L. jumped in his car as his adrenalin pumped. “The way the police move in Detroit, I can beat them there and swoop up that tape.”
Stackz knew he could count on his young dawg to handle things. “Good looking out.”
&nbs
p; “Come on now, fam, it ain’t no thang. You know how we do. So I’ll hit you back when I’m good with it.”
“The way she was playing it with me, I think she up for helping us out. She seem street as hell.”
T. L. laughed, knowing Stackz had hit the nail on the head. Tangy was street as hell; a little too street for him. That’s why he stopped messing with her. She wanted to mean mug and skull drag every other female he knew. “She definitely about her coins, so I got a couple racks on me to ensure I don’t hear ‘I can’t,’ ‘no,’ or ‘I’m scared’ shit fly outta her mouth. You feel me? Money talks and potential cases get bought.”
Stackz had one reply equally as clever and true as T. L.’s statement. “You already know real ones buy what they want, what they need, and what they please. Right about now, I needs that surveillance footage.”
CHAPTER THREE
Ava couldn’t believe what had just taken place. She was pissed, not only at her sister for dragging her out of the house tonight to hang with Devin and his whack-minded cohorts, but herself for being so stupid to agree to come. She knew Leela’s MO when it came to being in the middle of drama. It was like she craved that bullshit and found a way to find it, even if it wasn’t looking for her. Now just like that, here they were on foot, in sandals, no less, running down a no-streetlight-deserted block, trying to make it to their mother’s house.
“What the fuck be wrong with you?” Ava barked, glancing back over her shoulder while keeping it moving.
“Huh?”
“I said what in the fuck is wrong with you? Why you always down with this dumb shit? I can’t believe you sometimes.”
“What? Huh?” Leela once more replied, trying to keep up with her obviously angry sibling.
Ava wasn’t having her older sister play the dumb role; not now; not tonight. “Listen, don’t huh me, bitch! You know good and damn well what the fuck I’m talking about. You seen how that oversized sloppy animal you be running around with tried to attack that dude. Him, Mickey, and Rank always tripping.”
“Okay and . . .”
Ava was infuriated with her big sister as well as almost out of breath but still kept it a hundred. “Okay, and he was minding his own business trying to place his order and bam! I guess that was too much like right to Devin and them, huh? Both of y’all dumb asses deserve each other. I swear to God I’m done with you!”
“Whoa, why you care so much about some random-ass buster? You must’ve been feeling ole boy or something, even though he called himself going on us.” Leela dialed Devin’s number but got no response.
“Leela, please stop being so damn stupid all the time. I ain’t feeling nothing except for doing the right thing before karma comes around calling. You think that shit a joke, but it ain’t. Karma will mess the fuck around and skip over your dumb ass and latch ahold of your kids.”
“Yeah, whatever; man, fuck karma,” Leela arrogantly giggled while running by a yard full of thick overgrown bushes, cell still in hand. “Karma don’t want shit messing around with me or my badass, good-begging kids!”
Ava was outdone that her sister, a mother herself, had such little regard for doing the right thing when need be. She hoped her nieces and nephew would not turn out like the rest of the bloodline in their shady family tree: ruthless, rotten, and worthless. “Look, girl. Like I said, I’m over you and your no-good friends. The next time you wanna ask me to hang with Devin, Mickey, and Rank, don’t—because the answer is going to be naw. Matter of fact, hell naw!”
Leela wanted to stop dead in her tracks and curse her little sister out for going so hard, but the darkness of the night changed her mind. She wisely decided to just keep it moving and deal with Ava and her opinions when they reached their destination. Hopefully, their mother would not be drunk and passed out and they could get in. Two blocks later and creeping through the vacant lot, the sisters were soon in the backyard of their childhood home. Seeing the blue light from the television peek through the tattered shades of the back bedroom, Ava exhaled as Leela reached up, tapping on the window. After what seemed like a lifetime, they finally heard a voice mumbling. Seconds later, they were met with their mother’s bloodshot eyes peering at theirs.
“Why you two ungrateful bitches over here bothering me, waking me up? Y’all got y’all own damn house,” she slurred as the flimsy door flung open. “Well, at least, Ava wannabe uppity ass do!”
“We know, Mom, but it was an emergency,” Leela blurted out as she brushed past her mother’s shoulder, barging inside. “Where my kids at? What they been doing?”
“Emergency, my ass! Ava, why you ain’t just used the damn spare key I gave your butt!” Standing in the doorway, Leela’s mother was almost snatched out of her drunken state of mind hearing her oldest child act so dense. “And as for you! Listen, you silly tramp. You know good and damn well them babies is sleep this time of morning, just like you and old wannabe white over there should be. But, naw, y’all disrespectful asses all up over here in my shit knocking on back windows and asking dumb shit.”
Once both girls were inside the dimly lit dwelling, their mother finally stopped running off at the mouth and stumbled back to her bed to continue to sleep off the half pint of cheap wine she’d gulped down before passing out. As if on cue, the sibling arguing resumed.
Ava wasn’t against her sister; she just had officially grown tired of backing up all her stupid plays. She was done with agreeing with the chaos she brought, not only into her own life but into the lives of everyone she’d come in contact with; not excluding her own children. Leela had a bad habit of not wanting to pay her rent wherever she lived, ultimately resulting in her and her babies getting put out, leaving Ava and their barely functioning alcoholic mother to step in and pick up the slack. This time was no different than the others; the kids were staying with their grandmother, while Ava was allowing Leela to temporarily stay in the converted dwelling home she’d bought in a county auction late last summer. But the unfit mother that lived to keep up bullshit and bring unwanted drama to her sister’s home had just about worn out her welcome.
“Leela, please just tell me why you insist on hanging with those dirtballs? They always off into some devious shit; especially Devin. If he wouldn’t been trying to start shit with that man . . .”
Examining the broken strap on her sandals, Leela casually glanced up, shaking her head like her sister was speaking in some sort of foreign language. “I’m sorry, but are you still talking to me? I already done told you forget that nigga you so worried about! Was you not just there in that motherfucker when he was pointing a gun at our black asses, calling us sour! You see how he had Devin; talking to him like he was crazy!”
Ava shook her head. Leela was everything she was not. Even though their mother claimed they had the same father, Ava wasn’t so sure if that was the truth. Leela had to be the spawn of Satan. No matter what the younger sister said or tried, Leela was not in the business of listening. Instead, she continued to boast and brag about Devin and the many times he’d blessed her with money from his small-time hustles and capers. The fact that Devin and his boys oftentimes fucked over innocent people to get that “come up” Leela seemed to think was as great as, if not better than, winning the Powerball, meant nothing.
“Have you lost your damn mind? You sitting over here talking about Devin like he some sort of person that needs an award or something. That boy ain’t nothing but a small-time, nickel-and-dime hustling thug. Him and Mickey and Rank out here always trying to go for bad.”
“And . . .”
“And that’s why that dude got him and them at gunpoint. Shit, matter of fact, they probably halfway to jail by now, so . . .”
Leela paused protesting Ava’s statement as she whipped back out her cell to once again call. “Girl, you sound like a fool. Devin is that real deal. Trust me, I done seen him turn the tables and walk the fuck away from shit way worse than that. He gonna bless me big time off the pockets of that pretty boy nigga you seemed so worried a
bout.”
Yeah, we’ll see. Ava sat back gathering her thoughts while watching her naïve sister live in a fantasy.
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