Lickin' License
Page 24
“Chanel,” Rich said.
“That's who cut her, stupid.” Chase blurted.
Rich, filled with rage, slashed Chase’s face like a slab of beef in a slaughterhouse, opening it to the white meat. “Stop fucking lying!”
Chase screamed in pain. He pointed at the cell phone. “Fuckin’ dummy. She cut a 'C' on Candy for 'Chanel.' All them chicks in the shop was down. Y’all was too busy fuckin’ and suckin’ to see it.”
And I thought that “C” was for Candy.
“It ain't my fault,” Chase said, laughing.
Rich grabbed his face, slicing each eyelid off.”
“Rich,” Vanessa said, shaking her head as Rich faced her. “He's got all their numbers in this phone. Leah, Meisha, even Vera and Mimi.”
“Vera?” Candy said, looking at the phone.
“Vera said you tossed her crib and stole a bunch of shit. She wanted some getback,” Chase stated.
Candy paused, looking at Rich and Vanessa. “For him to know that, she had to tell him.”
“I ain't cut her,” Chase said. “I was just tryin' to get Rich away from y'all so Vera and her brother could kidnap Candy. That’s why I came to the shop that night,” Chase laughed.
“You think this a fuckin’ joke?” Rich asked.
Chase grinned. “You always thought you was so fuckin’ smart. Now look at your dumb ass, played by some beauty shop bitches,” Chase laughed.
Rich sighed and slashed one of Chase's lips off. “That's for lying, motherfucker. I saw your car. That old ass Taurus we used to use.”
Chase screamed in pain, then smiled. “The Taurus is Vera brothers’ car dummy.”
“Taurus?” Candy said, covering her mouth as Rich turned to her. “I forgot. Domingo said Vera's brother got an old Taurus. I didn't think of that when they snatched me up. Everything happened so quick. I just knew it was a dark-colored Taurus.
“Remember in the shop, Domingo said he saw Chanel in Red Hook?” Vanessa chimed in.
Chase sighed. “Chanel was in Red Hook with Vera and her brothers plotting on Candy. This shit been in the making for so long, it’s ridiculous.”
“When I heard shoes in the basement, it must've been Chanel,” Candy said, slowly shaking her head. “Chanel always wears heels. I just thought it was a guy wearing hard bottoms. And the clicking of the razor—” Candy shivered as she recalled the traumatic event. “Chanel always carries a razor.”
Rich remembered how in the hospital Chanel tried to convince him not to seek revenge on Chase. She must've been trying to indirectly convince me it was Chase. But it was really her.
“And Leah, she want the shop,” Chase said laughing.
Rich remembered that Leah had been helping Candy work on the business plan for her hair care products company and that she had always been mentioning that Candy should think of leaving the shop behind for the new business. Leah was the person who had given Candy the idea for starting a second business. And she had always been the one who volunteered to oversee the shop when Candy was out of town. There was also the fact that Leah had always made it known that she felt Candy was taking advantage of younger women. Leah certainly had a motive for Candy's downfall.
“What about Meisha? Her number is in here too,” said Vanessa.
“She just following Chanel,” Chase mumbled with his one remaining lip covered in blood. “She said she quit the shop after y' all was wildin' out on Chanel. That was her way of fuckin' the business up, because she know Candy needed workers. She was hoping to fuck it up so much that you would just sell it to Leah and focus on your new business. All of these chicks was in on this shit. Y’all motherfuckers is blind,” he grinned. “Three blind mice.”
“Those conniving-ass broads!” Candy was furious. Her frustration with Chase was changing to rage for Chanel and her cohorts. There was an evil look in Candy's eyes that told Rich she was beyond the psychological pain of being attacked. She had been the peacemaker, while Vanessa thirsted for revenge. But Rich could see Candy was now hungry for the blood of everyone involved in her attack.
“Rich, I'm telling you. It was them hos in the shop,” Chase said laughing.
“Fuck that! You still down with it. You came to the shop to get me away from Candy so they could kidnap her.” Rich dug his scalpel into Chase's cheek and pulled it forward until it ripped through the skin of the small space that separated Chase's lip and the missing lip.
Chase screamed, choking on his own blood.
Rich stripped him naked with the scalpel. He pulled out a bottle of alcohol and a large squeeze bottle of ammonia. He first doused Chase with the alcohol. As he screamed, begging for forgiveness, Rich poured the ammonia into his wounds.
“Motherfucker!” Chase screamed.
Rich pulled some lighter fluid from the bag and squirted it on all over Chase's face.
“Fuck all of y’all dumb motherfuckas!”
Rich struck a match and tossed it on his face.
“Ahhhhhh,” Chase screamed. His brown skin bubbled and the stench of burnt hair filled the air. Chase shook his face back and forth, but he could not escape the flames.
After a minute, Rich pulled the gun he had taken from Chase. He handed it to Candy. He wanted her to end his life with his own gun.
Candy slowly grabbed the semi-automatic and turned to Vanessa. They both stepped toward Chase until their guns were virtually touching the fire toasting his face.
Chase mumbled, as blood dripped from his flaming face.
The women slowly aimed their guns and squeezed them continuously until there were no more bullets. Chase's face and head were riddled beyond recognition. Candy and Vanessa turned to Rich, emotionless, smoke rising from the barrels of their guns.
Rich expected more tears, but there were none. There were no surprised looks or shaky hands. No fear in the eyes of Candy and Vanessa. They obviously enjoyed the thrill of the kill. Rich watched Candy staring at the gun as if it were something she had missed her entire life. Something she cherished. But Rich was certain that he wanted nothing else to do with guns. He wanted to pick up the life he started when he left the game behind. He wanted a normal life with the women who had tried their hardest to make sure he did not slip back into the game. But Rich did not know if they would ever be the same after experiencing the power that came with a revenge killing.
Vanessa had already proven she was no longer the free-loving bohemian who felt there was no reason a life should be taken. Now Candy had demonstrated that she was ready to manifest all the violence she had witnessed throughout her life on the streets of Harlem.
“Felt good, didn't it?” Vanessa flashed a sneaky grin at Candy.
Candy squeezed the empty gun and stared at it for a second, as if she were inspecting it with pleasure. “Yeah it feels good.” She nodded and smiled. She kissed Vanessa and Rich. “Thank you.” She paused, then turned and stared at Chase's dead body. “You got five friends coming to join you: Chanel, Meisha, Leah, Vera, and Mimi.”
Vanessa looked at Chase. “Plus Vera's brothers.”
*THE END*
About Intelligent Allah
Intelligent Allah’s full name is Intelligent Tarref Allah, but he is affectionately known by family and friends as Intell. Born and raised on the chaotic streets of Brownsville and East New York, Brooklyn, Intelligent was a poet and aspiring rapper prior to becoming incarcerated in 1994.
Intelligent is a graduate of the Writer’s Digest School’s Writing Workshop. He also completed writing/grammar courses sponsored by Rising Hope Inc., Shawangunk Valley School, and Bard College through which he is currently pursuing his Associates in Arts. His writings have been published on the website, therubanbooksource.com, The Five Percenter newspaper and American Vegan magazine. The New York Amsterdam News has accepted his work as well.
Intelligent was contracted as an editor and copywriter for publishing companies such as Cinobe Publishing and Green & Company. He is the co-editor of Wahida Clark’s bestselling novel Thug Matrimony
(Kensington Corp.). He also served on the editorial board for prison newsletters, The Lifer’s Call and Ujima.
Intelligent is certified by the Department of Labor as a counseling aide. He has completed numerous courses sponsored by Binghamton University, the Osborn Association, Exodus, AIDS-Related Community Services and the New York Department of Correctional Services. He is a member of Harvest Moon Poetry Collective, Rehabilitation through the Arts, the Nation of Gods and Earths, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, The American Vegan Society, Vegetarian Resource Group and other progressive groups.
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