Marcus: The M Series, Book Three

by Ryanne Anthony

  “Come on, man... I got you. I know you got something else around here.”

  “Naw, man. Take this bitch from the drunk over here.”

  Daniels jaw clenches for a second but he keeps going.

  “She looks like my sister, man. I can't fuck a ho that looks like my fucking sister. I know you can get another warm body in here.”

  “Naw, I said I don't have anything else right now.”

  “Thousand bucks, Cisco.”

  “Nothing, man.”

  “Fifteen hundred.”

  “Fuck wrong with you, fool? You deaf?”

  “The wife's outta town. Tryin' to get my dick sucked by a pro. Sick of that sloppy shit the wife's giving out. Come on, Cisco. Two-thousand, all Benjamins.”

  “Man...”

  “Cisco, you know your hoes the best, man… twenty-five hundred.”

  “Shit, man. All right, look... I got this one chick, but she kinda fucked up right now.”

  “Hooked. Good job, Daniels,” Parker murmurs. Daniels nods while looking at Guzman. We sit up in our seats at attention, but we can't see Guzman anymore.

  “Swing around, Daniels’ camera is out. I can't see Daniels or the subject,” Parker murmurs.

  “So you got a room or do we need to get one, friend?” Hunt murmurs standing, her arm goes around to Richards back and with the split view we can see Daniels and Guzman.

  “How's that,” Hunt murmurs.

  “Perfect. Try not to move,” Parker murmurs. “Tap your camera, Daniels.”

  “Fucked up? What’s that mean,” Daniels asks as he adjusts and pats his tie.

  “She got smacked around, but she'll give it to you, real pro.”

  “Where she at? Call her up.”

  “She's around. Show me the money.”

  “Try pushing the battery in the back of the pin, Daniels,” Parker says.

  “I ain't showing you shit. Not until I get off. Come on, man. I ain’t got all night,” Daniels shouts as he grips his tie. His camera pops back on and we see right into Guzman's face.

  “Hot, Daniels,” Parker murmurs.

  “Five up front. Then you follow me.”

  “Cisco,” Hunt calls, giggling. “You got a room for me and my friend?”

  Guzman snorts, “He got two hundred other friends, sides you? Plus, my cut for you.”

  Tom's cell vibrates. “Monica's back with the others.”

  “Good,” I murmur.

  Guzman reaches toward Hunt. He leans back counting money.

  “All right, follow me. You each got twenty minutes. Let's go.”

  “Don't worry about the ring, the broach is fine, just keep clear,” Parker murmurs.

  “Mm-hmm, friend... whatever you say,” Hunt giggles again.

  They follow Guzman outside then through a small door and up a fire escape.

  “Take this room, Mestiza. Remember, twenty minutes.” He yanks Hunt's hair hard, causing her to gasp and cry out. “I hear good things, this will be permanent. Otherwise, you won't be so pretty anymore.”

  Daniels jaw clenches again. Richards catches Hunt’s ire and pulls her into the room. Guzman watches as Richards opens the door and leans into Hunt. The door closes and Guzman and Daniels walk off.

  “Focus,” Richards whispers. “Like I said, fuck him up later. My camera and voice on?”

  “You're hot, Richards.”

  Richards speaks in an even tone. “I assume you have him and the others, too. You know the rules. Don't fuck this up.”

  “Shit,” Matthew mutters. “He made us.”

  “Acknowledge. Chirp the alarm.”

  “Turn the damn alarm on, Nathan,” Matthew mutters again. The alarm chirps. Richards twists his camera to his face.

  “Glad we understand one another.”

  Parker says, “I made you. I saw the driver and passenger. Explain the rules to the others. How many are in there?”

  Matthew leans toward the dash as Parker counts.

  “3... 4... 5... 6...”

  Matthew flashes the hazard light.

  “Is he with you?”

  He flashes the hazards again.

  “Shit. Stay in the van, all of you. I’m watching you and what's going on upstairs. You need to make sure no one gets out of that van.”

  Matthew flashes the hazard lights again then goes back to his seat.

  Guzman turns to Daniels. “Yo bitch in here. She got a little headache, but have fun. She likes it rough. Feel free to fuck this bitch up real good. Twenty minutes.”

  Matthew switches to Hunt's camera. She and Richards are standing side by side just inside their room, moaning. He makes it a split screen again.

  Daniels walks in the room and it's dark. We strain closer, attempting to make out what Daniels sees.

  “What the fuck is this shit, Cisco,” Daniels yells. “Is she even breathing?”

  My heart thumps. “Fuck! Is it her?”

  “Hold on, Marcus,” Matthew says quietly, staring at the screen.

  Guzman grumbles, “Yeah, she was a while ago, man. Check her pulse.”

  Daniels walks closer, then reaches out to the woman whose head is turned. She startles when Daniels touches her throat. It's her right side.

  “Yeah, there's a fucking pulse. Get out, Cisco. I'm finna get my fuck on. I don't need a fucking audience,” Daniels shouts.

  “Cool, but now you down to eighteen minutes.”

  “Fool, I got a hour for twenty-five Bennies. This ho better be worth it.”

  “All right, I'll be outside. I'm coming back in thirty to check up.”

  “Whatever. Get out,” Daniels says taking his jacket off.

  Guzman leaves and the door shuts. The woman whimpers in a panic as Daniels drops down fast and puts the jacket over her.

  “Hey, hey... calm down, sweetheart,” Daniels says softly. “I'm not going to touch you. My name is Dannie and I need you to tell me your name. Can you tell me your name?”

  The woman whimpers again. “I... don't... belong... here,” she whispers.

  “That's her,” I shout. “That's how she sounds when she has a migraine! Let’s go!”

  “Wait, Marcus,” Ethan urges.

  “You gotta let him play this out,” Matthew shouts, still staring. “He can’t help her until she confirms who she is!”

  “I need you to tell me your name, sweetheart. First and last, that's it. After that I can get you out of here. I can't help you until you confirm your name,” Daniels softly pleads.

  She whimpers again. “Pain... every… where...”

  “I understand. Please tell me your name, so I can help you. Oh, shit! Just like that,” Daniels yells out and she whimpers. “Sorry, I have to keep up pretense until you confirm your name.”

  She whimpers again and grabs his arm. We still can't see her face.

  “I... need... my... husband...”

  “I can get you to him, but you have to tell me your name. I can’t do anything if you don't give me your name, sweetheart,” Daniels pleads again.

  Silence.

  “Sweetheart... no, don't go to sleep. Don't close your eyes! You have to tell me your name! If you can't remember it, then you have to say help. Say your name or ask for help.”

  “Daddy,” she whispers.

  “Shit... she's delusional.”

  “Keep trying, Daniels. Feel her neck, the left side. Anything,” Parker asks.

  Daniels hand reaches out. “It's wet.” His hands come up, he gasps. “It's blood! Damn it!”

  I groan and the others fall silent.

  “Did her neck feel rough? Like scars?”

  “Could be but it's too wet and slick to say positively.”

  “Try her shoulder or the blade if you can move her.”

  Daniels reaches over and we see her body rise a little under a filthy blanket.

  “Jesus Christ! Call an ambulance! There's blood everywhere,” Daniels rasps. “What the hell, is that a ... God in heaven, what did they do?”

  �
��What, Daniels? What is it? Did she say her name?”

  “Woman in distress! I don't give a shit about her name!”

  The woman gasps then whispers, “Mariah... Cannon.”

  Everyone in the van exhale in relief. I make a move to get out. Matthew stops me.

  “Not yet.”

  “Tell me you got that! Parker!”

  “GREEN! GREEN,” Parker yells. “Move in!”

  “Hey, man,” Guzman says behind Daniels. “Who the fuck is Parker? Yo ass IS five-o!”

  A gun clicks.

  “No, he's not, fucker, but we are. And you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Mariah Cannon,” Hodges says, very calmly. “Hunt, would you like the honors?”

  “Oh, I’d love to,” Hunt says, menacingly.

  “I didn't kidnap anybody! What the fuck you gonna do, puta?”

  A soft light comes on. Daniels covers Mariah with his body.

  “I need an ambulance, no sirens, at 4419 Poplar Drive,” Richards yells. “Thirty-two-year-old female, pregnant, tentatively identified as Mariah Cannon ... Suffering from a migraine and unknown internal injuries ... No, she's bleeding from an unknown source.”

  Hunt grabs Guzman and knocks him to the floor. He immediately jumps up and pushes her back into a chair, where she positions herself the way Dawson showed her earlier.

  “Bitch, you ain’t gone take me in by yoself.”

  “Wanna bet,” Hunt snarls, breathing heavily.

  “No, Hodges, let her do this,” Richards shouts, out of camera range. “Trust me, she’s owed it.”

  Guzman runs at Hunt, who is still in position. He moves into her knees and she smirks. She grabs his arms and twists hers around them, snaking her left arm to his head. She then tightens her legs around his and crashes to the floor on her right, taking Guzman down with her and slamming his head hard on the floor.

  “Oh, shit,” Ethan yells.

  “She fucked him up,” Tom shouts in surprise.

  “Damn it! I'm taking that fucking class,” Joshua says in awe.

  Daniels turns and all the cameras pick up Stacy with her foot on the back of Guzman's neck, who is shouting threats and calling Hunt the foulest names that include the one that rhymes with her name.

  “Shit,” Daniels murmurs. “My foot is acting up again. Hunt, what's that over there?”

  “I don't know, Daniels, let me look while I get Hodges' cuffs.”

  All the cameras go dark. Next, we here a loud snap and a cry of pain.

  “Police brutality,” Guzman screeches as the visual comes back up.

  “I'm not a cop,” Daniels murmurs, yanking Guzman’s hair like Guzman did Hunt's. “Who's the bitch, now? Cuff this asshole.”

  Hunt starts to Mirandize Guzman. “Your bitch-ass has the right to remain silent,” she murmurs as she snatches his arm behind him. He screams like a woman in labor.

  “I think it's broke! You broke my arm!”

  Hunt scoffs. “Who did? I never touched your arm! Do you understand your rights, you disgusting, diseased, kidnapping-pregnant-women maggot?”

  “Fuck, I thought that’s what that was,” Daniels yells out. “Son of a bitch! Hit the lights and cut communications! All of it!”

  Everything goes black, and there is nothing but silence.

  “Can we fucking go now,” I angrily shout.

  “Marcus, we can't be seen here,” Matthew yells. “Sit on your ass and wait for the ambulance. We'll follow it.”

  “Why can't we be seen here?”

  Parker jumps out of the pizza truck and runs to the door.

  Ethan answers. “Marcus, he could get all this evidence thrown out if he can prove someone other than the participants heard or saw this incident. If you go in now, a judge will have no choice but to dismiss all charges.”

  “Shit!”

  “You have to wait until the ambulance leaves, or until someone calls you.”

  Sirens are loud around us then abruptly stop. An ambulance arrives, and the paramedics jump out and run to the door to which the cops are pointing.

  We sit and wait, seems like forever. Finally, Hunt appears, looking up and down the street. She beckons to a cop then Guzman is led out by Hodges and another officer and placed in an unmarked car. She stared at the van as Russell exits the same black car he left the area in and runs toward the door. Hunt stops him. He shows her a badge. Hunt nods then Russell speaks to the driver of the unmarked car and it took off.

  Russell says something to Hunt again and he shows her something in his wallet. Hunt puts her head down and tells him something that makes Russ shake his head and step back, stunned. He turns and punches the car’s roof then places both hands on it, bowing, his entire six-foot-plus frame shaking. Hunt puts a comforting hand on his back.

  All of us look at each other as fear grips me. Suddenly, I feel like I don't ever want to get out of this van. My stomach churns as I look back at Russell and Hunt.

  Russell looks up at Hunt and says something to her. She points toward the van, and Russell looks our way and he puts his head back down. I feel everything in me tremble when they slowly walk toward us, Hunt gripping Russell's arm, his face getting more and more contorted the closer they get.

  They get to our van and knock softly. Neither of us make a move to open the door.

  “Marcus... Matthew... somebody open the door,” Russell croaks out.

  We all sit still; frozen.

  My hands go to my face, my fists covering my mouth as I wish I had listened and stayed home.

  April 13, 2012

  I held Mariah's hand and elbow as she attempts to lower herself on the sofa in Rachel and Thomas’ living room.

  “Wait! I forgot my watermelon,” she shouted, standing again.

  “I've got it, I've got it. Here, honey,” Rachel soothed as she smiled at her.

  Mariah sat and grabbed the bowl, eating the watermelon as if she hadn't eaten all day. Everyone watched silently, fascinated. Suddenly, she froze and looked around.

  “What,” she mumbled with her mouth full. “Why are you all staring?”

  Matthew grinned. “Those boys are going to hate watermelon, Cookie.”

  “Oh, well.” She burped. “Any more?”

  We laughed as Harriet passed her a fresh bowl filled with watermelon and said something to her in Spanish. Mariah frowned and replied. Alissa giggled and answered.

  “Are you serious,” Mariah gasped, paling.

  “Yes,” Alissa answered with a huge grin.

  Mariah looked at Harriet, mortified. Harriet chuckled and sat near the kitchen door.

  “What just happened, Cookie,” Thomas asked.

  Mariah continued staring Harriet’s way. “Menudo... while pregnant, she craved Menudo!”

  “Alissa,” Lil called. “What is that, sweetheart?”

  “Beef stomach soup,” she giggled again, to groans all around the room.

  Mariah placed her bowl on her lap and stared at it.

  “Had enough, Baby?”

  “Ugh... I can't even imagine...”

  “It's not bad, Cookie,” Ethan said, chuckling. “Alissa's mother made it before. We could ask her to make some for you.”

  “Overruled, Counselor. I'll pass,” she murmured, picking up her fork again. No one could resist a chuckle at her renewed gusto with the watermelon.

  “Well, since we're all here... finally,” Ethan said looking pointedly at Mariah. “If you don't mind, Cookie, I'd like to do something.”

  “Okay,” Mariah grinned, still eating. “What?”

  Ethan looked at Alissa, who was still grinning at Mariah. “Alissa?”

  She turned to Ethan. “Yes, Papi?”

  Ethan took a deep breath and started reciting something slowly in Spanish. Mariah stopped eating and gripped my arm. Harriet gasped from her perch.

  “What is it, Cookie,” Thomas asked.

  “What's wrong, baby,” I ask, scooting to the edge of the sofa to get a better view of her cocked face when she doesn't answer
.

  “He’s…” Mariah pointed at Ethan, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't get it out, so she just stared at Ethan and Alissa.

  “What,” we all say. I looked over as Ethan pulled something from his chest pocket.

  “Quieres... um...” Ethan paused, trying to remember. “Damn it... Cookie?”

  “Te quieres casar conmigo,” Mariah whispers.

  Alissa gasped. “Oh, my God!”

  “Yeah! That's right!” He looks back to Alissa. “Sorry, honey, I wanted this to be special –”

  “Just say it, Ethan,” Mariah shouted, wiping her face.

  “Alissa,” Ethan grinned then slowly said, “¿Te quieres casar conmigo?”

  “Me encantaría ser tu esposa,” Alissa shouted, throwing her arms around Ethan’s neck.

  Harriet and Mariah cheered as Ethan looked at Mariah confused.

  “She would love to be your wife, Ethan,” Mariah happily sighed.

  “What,” Lil yelled, her hands going to her mouth.

  The whole room erupted in an applause. Ethan pulled back from Alissa and slid a ring on her finger. Everyone offered congratulations while patting Ethan's back and/or hugging Alissa.

  “That's my boy,” Thomas shouted. “Harriet! Champagne and ginger ale, please!”

  “Congratulations, Ethan,” Mariah grinned.

  “Thanks, Cookie. I'm glad I waited for you. I got a little nervous when she replied. I was listening for a 'si,' not all of that!”

  “How did you learn that,” Lil asked, dabbing her eyes.

  Ethan grinned. “Alissa's parents and sister. I wouldn't have dared to ask her brothers.”

  “You were right not to, Papi,” Alissa murmured. “You would have ended up asking me to beat the hell out of you or something.”

  We laughed loudly then Ethan pulled Alissa in for a kiss. We applauded them as Harriet brings the drinks. Ethan and Alissa break apart as Tom toasted the happy couple.

  Matthew set his glass down and picked up a leather tote bag. “Well, since Cookie's back and Alissa's joining our family, I'd say it's time for initiation.”

  “Oh, no,” Tom groaned as Joshua and I grinned our agreement. “Again, Matthew?”

  “Every time, Tom,” Matthew answered, seriously. “Marcus, Joshua, Evelyn... ready?”

  “Really, children? This is getting old.”

  “At least it's three in one, Mother,” I reasoned.