by Jade Jones
CAMERON 7
A NOVEL BY
JADE JONES
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This novel is a work of fiction. Any reference to real people, events, establishments, or locales is intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Other names, characters, and incidents occurring in the work are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, as are those fictionalized events and events that involve real persons. Any character that happens to share the name of a person who is any acquaintance of the author, past or present, is purely coincidental and is in no way intended to be an actual account involving that person.
Copyright © 2015
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portion thereof in any form whatsoever.
PROLOGUE
Jude barely made it to ground transportation before his cellphone started blowing up. He had just powered it on after being in airplane mode. This time the caller was not Michael. In fact, it was his protégée, Magyc.
As soon as Jude answered, Magyc started talking a mile a minute. The young cat was so frantic that Jude could barely make out a word he was saying. “Hol’ up, slow down. What happened?”
“I need you to get to Emory Hospital.” Magyc’s voice cracked as he spoke. He was so upset that he wanted to murder someone—anyone.
“Aight. I’m on my way, man.” Jude hung up the phone and put a little more pep in his step. He knew something was wrong by the sound of Magyc’s voice. This night couldn’t get any worse.
“Is everything okay?” Cameron asked in concern.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Jude lied. “Just got a lil’ business to handle and then I promise I’ll come back to you.”
Cameron didn’t like the sound of that. For some reason, hearing him say it made her feel like she would never see him again. Jude was telling her everything was okay, but she had a feeling it wasn’t.
When Cam and Jude finally made it back to his home, he made sure she was comfortable, left her with a loaded 9mm, kissed her on the forehead, and told her he loved her more than himself.
“I love you too, Jude. Please be careful…and please try to hurry back.”
“I’ll do my best,” he assured her.
Jude left the house around 4:30 in the morning and headed downtown to Emory. He found Magyc, Michael, and a few of their men in a hospital room. Jude was shocked to see Roxie hooked up to a breathing machine. A heart monitor positioned beside the bed was the only proof she was still living. She looked bad—really bad. Now Jag had gone too fucking far.
“I’ma kill the mothafucka,” Magyc said with tears in his eyes. “I’ma kill him.”
Jude stood in the doorway in silence. Jag was supposed to be his. But seeing Roxie lying there helpless made him feel like Magyc deserved to off him.
“She lost the baby…” Magyc’s voice trembled with anger. “A nigga ain’t even know she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me…” He shook his head. “And now I gotta explain to Briana’s family why their daughter’s dead. This shit’s all bad. It’s fucked up, bruh. I should’ve been there. I should’ve fuckin’ been there. If she doesn’t make it, I—”
“Don’t put that shit out there in the universe,” Jude said. “She’s gonna pull through. Roxie’s strong and you know it.”
Guilt consumed Magyc. He hated that he hadn’t given a hundred percent of himself to her. He hated that he’d ever lied to and hurt her. Roxie was his baby, his everything. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.
Magyc promised himself that when she finally woke up from her coma, he would marry her. He didn’t care that he was only twenty-two. He wanted to spend his life with her. But first and foremost, he had to put Jag in a casket.
“I’ma get at that nigga,” Magyc said. “On life. I’ma end that nigga’s existence.”
***
Jude left the hospital around 5 in the morning. With everything going on, he wanted to get back to Cameron as fast as he could. He ran a couple red lights in order to make it home in haste.
Jude was surprised when he noticed the gates to his house opened. Sadly, he had never fixed the system. “Shit!” Jude punched the steering wheel after remembering that Jag knew about the glitch. All he had to do was push 0 to mosey inside. “This is not happening!”
Jude parked his car crookedly before hopping out. His heart thumped wildly inside his chest. He knew shit was real the minute he saw his front door cracked open.
Jude snatched his gun out and ran through the home. As expected, Cameron and the children were nowhere to be found. They were gone. Just like that. Jude wasn’t even away a full two hours and they were gone. His heart broke when he saw the 9mm on the hallway floor. A few furniture pieces were overturned, which indicated a struggle.
“FUCK!” Jude punched a hole in the nearby wall. His knuckles tore open and bled but he didn’t notice or care. The only thing on his mind was the fact that Jag had gained the upper hand. How the hell I let this motherfucker catch me slipping, he asked himself.
All of a sudden, Jude’s cellphone rang. He recognized the number immediately. “Bitch nigga, I made you! I could break you too,” Jude threatened.
Jag laughed, clearly amused. “I won.”
Jude finally calmed down after remembering he had his wife and son. “Jag? Jag, listen to me. Our beef ain’t got shit to do with Cameron. Leave her out of this, man.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? It’s got everything to do with Cameron,” Jag reminded him. “My mother…Lark…my little sister. You don’t recall that? It was all for Cam, am I right?”
“Jag, look, I never hurt Alessia. That’s on everything I love. She got away, dawg. She’s still out there.”
“You’re lying,” Jag denied. Due to his mental disassociation, he didn’t know what was real and what was fake. His sister could’ve been alive, but he had a feeling Jude was bullshitting.
“I’m not lying! She’s alive!”
“I may be a killer, but at least I take responsibility for the fucked up things I’ve done,” Jag said. “You took my family away from me…now I’m taking yours…”
Click.
Jag disconnected the call, and Jude launched his phone in anger. “Dammit!” His hands trembled uncontrollably. He didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, Jude remembered the test results on his office’s desk. A part of him still wasn’t ready to learn the truth, but at the very least he deserved to know.
Jude walked inside the spacious room and stopped in front of his desk. Now that the answer was at his fingertips, he was anxious to find out. With shaky hands, he grabbed the envelope, tore it open, and read the letter.
Journee was 99.6% Jude’s daughter. Tears fell from his eyes as he read the results over and over.
That mothafucka has to be stopped, he convinced himself. One way or another, Jag was going in the ground.
Jude cocked his gun, tucked it in his waistline, and left the room on a mission….
1
Two Months Later
Cameron gently trailed her French tips along Jude’s soft skin. Her body felt so warm against his as she snuggled against him. When she wrapped her arm around his midsection, he pulled her closer.
Moonlight poured into their bedroom as they slept in a gold Italian king size bed. The sweet, fruity scent of her lotion filled his nose. Her smell and touch was intoxicating.
“I love you, Cam,” he murm
ured.
She stirred a little but didn’t speak.
“You hear me?” he asked.
Silence.
“Cam?”
Suddenly, Jude woke up in a cold sweat and realized her side of the bed was empty. He ran a hand over the cool spot on his mattress where his wife usually occupied. He missed her presence. He missed her laughter. He missed the smell of her hair, the way her body melted into his whenever they spooned.
Two months felt like two whole eternities. He and his niggas had been combing the streets looking for Cam, but they always came up empty-handed.
Jude contemplated falling back to sleep. Maybe he’d luck up and see her again his dreams. As tempting as it was, he knew he wouldn’t drift off into slumber again. It already wasn’t often that he slept. It was hard to when you weren’t with the one you loved.
The entire house was quiet—eerily quiet. No evidence that he even had a family. Jude would’ve given anything just to hear his infant cry. What he put himself through everyday…that shit wasn’t life. It wasn’t living… He merely existed.
Jude thought about copping an ounce or two of coke to help him relax, but decided against it. He’d kicked his nasty drug habit over a year ago and wasn’t keen on relapsing.
All of a sudden, he heard the sound of movement from the front of his house. Automatically, he grabbed the twin thumpers resting on his nightstand and climbed out the bed. He didn’t close his eyes without them nearby. Paranoia had completely taken hold of his life ever since the kidnappings.
Jude cautiously made his way towards the noise, making sure to keep his own undetected. The sounds grew louder as he neared the front of the house. Someone was definitely in his crib.
All of the lights were off, and the home was blanketed in total darkness. Yet, if he popped he still wouldn’t miss. A killer had those instincts. Jude’s grip on his suppressed pistol tightened. Had Jag returned to finish the job he started?
The minute Jude saw a dark figure lurking in the family room he raised his gun and took aim.
“Wait, bruh, don’t shoot! It’s me!” Magyc said in slurred speech. He was Jude’s 22-year old protégée and good friend. A menace to society, most of his youth had been spent in juvie. However, he was exceptionally book smart. Jude saw a little of himself in Magyc, like the little brother he never had.
Magyc was lifted off Henny and Percocet. He hadn’t been sober once since the day Roxie was rushed to the emergency room. She was still in a coma and her health was really beginning to take a toll on him. Not only that, but he felt tremendous guilt for what happened to Briana.
Magyc made the mistake of attending his ex’s funeral, and it took six men to pull her father and brother off him. Magyc’s life was spiraling out of control after Jag’s heartless actions. The only thing that could offer the young misfit peace was putting a bullet in that mothafucka’s head.
Magyc stumbled a little before collapsing next to the couch. At 22, he was 5”10 and slender, yet toned in frame. His skin was cognac-colored and his dreads reached a little past his shoulders. There was a thuggish charm about him.
Magyc was too zooted to stand up on his own. He couldn’t even drive his car after leaving the strip club. One of the dancers he fucked with occasionally had to drop him off.
Jude quickly rushed to his aid. He’d almost forgotten that his Protégé owned a spare key to his private estate. If it weren’t for Magyc speaking up when he did, Jude would’ve blindly put a bullet in his head without a second thought. Both men were losing themselves.
Jude carefully helped his intoxicated friend onto the ivory button tufted sofa. It was a $2000 piece of furniture, but he didn’t bother removing Magyc’s Jordans. By the time the 22-year old’s face hit the cushion he was snoring.
Now that his nerves were put at ease, Jude went to the kitchen and poured himself a shot of Remy. One turned into two, and two soon turned into four.
Jude released a deep sigh and ran his hands through his dreads. “Damn, Cameron… Where the fuck you at, baby? Give a nigga a sign… Shit…”
After five back-to-back shots, he staggered out the kitchen and into the family room. Magyc was dead to the world, as he lay stretched out across the sofa.
Jude sank into the chair across from him, and rested the guns in his lap. He made sure to keep his finger on the trigger. Reclining his head, Jude slowly closed his eyes. Images of Cameron’s beautiful face flood his mind as he drifted off to sleep.
All of a sudden, his phone started ringing, causing him to jerk awake. Jude quickly answered it, surprised that the caller was Magyc’s brother and his accountant, Michael.
“Hey, wassup, man? Everything cool?” Jude asked, with concern heavy in his tone.
It was four in the morning. The last time Michael called at that hour it was to let him know that their precious warehouse had been torched.
“I’m on my way to you right now,” Michael said. “I just got a tip on where Cam and the kids might be.”
2
Two and a half hours later, Jude, Magyc, and Michael pulled into the lot of a murky Econo Lodge Inn out in Columbus, Georgia. Several cars were scattered on the premises, but none of them looked like one Jag would drive. Was he being low key for the sake of staying under the radar?
“How you come up on this tip?” Jude asked Michael. He wanted to have hope that Cameron was inside, but it seemed very unlikely. Jag was smart—smarter than the average. Smarter than Jude ever gave him credit for. Why the hell would he hole up in some crummy, sub-par motel two hours outside the city?
“My patnah owns it. He hit me up sayin’ a chick matchin’ her description showed up with some white boy.”
“And you think it’s her?”
There was a glimmer of doubt in Michael’s eyes. He looked like an older version of Magyc but without the dreads and mural of tattoos. “…He described her to a tee, man,” he said, rather uncertainly.
Jude accepted his answer for what it was.
Michael parked the Mercedes truck and together they all climbed out.
Out of nowhere, Magyc keeled over and vomited. On the entire ride over he was silent and now Jude understood why. The 22-year old was still twisted from last night.
Magyc had a terrible hangover and should’ve stayed his ass home, but he insisted on helping. The business was slowly crumbling at the hands of Jag, and someone had to have Jude’s back when shit got real. However, he was pretty much useless now.
Jude looked at his protégée in a disapproving way. “Aye, bruh, you good?” He felt a prickle of annoyance that Magyc wasn’t in tip-top shape. He needed him now more than ever—more so for support than protection. They didn’t involve the police in Cam’s disappearance because they wanted to handle Jag on their own, accordingly.
Magyc wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There were tiny specks of throw up on his distressed Yeezy sweatshirt. He looked like shit but he was unable to be talked down.
“I’m good,” he said weakly.
Jude looked at Magyc doubtfully, yet held his tongue. He then diverted his attention to the second-rate motel that may or may not be sheltering his family. The trio stepped inside and walked rather tentatively to the front desk.
Michael didn’t even have to utter a single word to the concierge. It was like they had a silent understanding, because the key to Cameron’s room was automatically slid across the counter. Jude collected it and together they braved the hotel, in search of his wife.
Once they reached room 308, Jude’s heart sank and a dry lump formed in his throat. Beyond the door could’ve been anything—maybe even something he wasn’t ready to see.
What if Jag had hurt his children? Dozens of unpleasant thoughts ran through his mind as he stood frozen. He didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know what to look forward to. The only thing Jude anticipated was putting a bullet in Jag’s head. That mothafucka had a hollow point with his name written all over it for the grief he’d caused.
God, I don
’t come clambering to you often, but please let my family be safe and sound, he prayed. I’ll do anything. Just grant me this one favor, this one time.
Jude took a deep, shuddering breath before placing his hand over the knob. Michael and Magyc both had their chromes in their grip, ready to pop if need be. He was just about to stick the key card in when Magyc’s knees buckled and he fell against the frame. He didn’t collapse fully, but it was clear he was in poor condition. He was losing himself and his self-control on life.
“Why don’t you go back to the car,” Jude suggested. His tone was ripe with suppressed irritation.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m good,” Magyc said, straightening up. He tried to shake off the effects of his hangover. That’d be the last time he mixed drugs and liquor.
Both men looked weary of his ability to handle a gun while in such weak state.
Jude shrugged off the distraction anyway and swiped the key card. The door beeped green, granting him access. His heart hung on the edge of suspense. Swallowing his anxiety, Jude pushed the door open slowly and walked in first—
He quickly shielded his eyes and looked away from the disgustingly repulsive sight before him.
3
“Aaaaaaahhhhh!”
A high-pitched scream rang out after all three men barged in on a Coprophiliac being pleasured on the floor. Beneath his naked body was a plastic sheet to catch the waste spilling from his paid prostitute.
“Who the fuck are ya’ll! GET THE FUCK OUT!” she hollered.
As soon as the trick saw them he quickly jumped up and covered his dick in shame. He didn’t know if he was more embarrassed that they walked in or that he was married. At first he thought his wife might’ve even sent them.
“What the fuck…?”
The space reeked of sweat and shit. A real fucking stench trench. Magyc and Michael gaped silently at the offensive image in front of them. Magyc clutched his stomach, and fought the urge to vomit again. Michael pinched his nostrils closed so that he wouldn’t have to smell it. What they saw was revolting and flat out sickening.