Hardhearted

by Sherrod Tunstall

  King tried to tackle her but failed on her first attempt.

  “Run, Josie! Run! I’ll join you later! Run now!” Swag yelled.

  Josie snatched up Swag’s long T-shirt and ran out of the room. Once she was outside in the hall, she rushed to the elevator, hoping it would quickly open. Tears streamed down her face. She was scared and happy all at the same time. She was finally going to get her rightful freedom. And when she reached the first floor, she ran like a madwoman with her hair flying all over her head. The escorts and clients didn’t know who the hell she was. They figured she was a maid and paid her no mind. Once she was outside, she ran to Cleo for help.

  “If you wanna live, child, I suggest you run now! If she asks, I’ll lie. Now, go!” shouted Cleo.

  Josie kissed him on his cheek. “Goodbye, Mr. Cleo.”

  Cleo smiled. “If you’re going, then go, child.”

  Josie ran into the streets of San José. She felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she ran and tried to make it to her building. In her mind, if Swag didn’t make it to the location within twenty-four hours, she had to start her new life without him.

  She never noticed the black limo in which Blood sat watching the whole ordeal and looking at Josie run toward the direction of her building to collect her things. He smiled, knowing that his “niece” was able to escape.

  Good luck, girl, he thought. He then took out his phone and dialed.

  “Yeah,” said a deep voice.

  “It’s time!” shouted Blood as he hung up. He smiled, knowing that his plan was coming to full circle.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, back at the Palace, Swag and King were on the floor fighting their battle to the death. Swag was on top of her, trying to keep her hands down. But King wasn’t no punk. She wasn’t giving up without a fight. The leopard inside of her took over. She saw the switchblade to her left and scrambled to get it. After she got it, she sliced it across the right side of Swag’s face, barely missing his eye.

  “Ah, shit!” Swag shouted and released her.

  King used his moment of weakness to knee him in his nut sack.

  “Fuuuuck!” Swag grabbed his balls and fell over her. She pushed him off her and felt undefeated as Swag yelled and cried in pain.

  King got up and watched him squirm on the floor. What a little bitch, she thought. What in the hell was I thinking of letting this American rule beside me?

  She hated to say it, but Blood was right about Swag. He sure wasn’t Zeus Santiago. All she saw on the floor was a weak-ass, lame, nickel-and-dime boy, which in King’s mind, wasn’t a cute look. He was just another piece of shit.

  King wanted to take her switchblade and cut up Swag’s entire body. But she was enjoying seeing him writhe in pain. She laughed and searched the floor for her gun. She hurried over to get it and aimed it at him.

  “Turn your ass over!”

  Swag was in too much pain to obey. King fired twice into the ceiling and repeated herself. “I said, turn your ass over.”

  Swag slowly turned on his back. His face was very bloody, and his balls hurt like hell. He looked at King. He didn’t see the sexy woman he’d first met on the ship that had spared Travis’s life. He was now looking at a beast. Her hair was all over the place, her shirt was damn near ripped off, exposing her bra, and her thick thighs and legs were red. She looked like an urban Amazon woman.

  King’s emotions were mixed with hurt and hate. After the loss of Madam Lourd, she thought Swag would be the cure to take some of the pain away. She also couldn’t believe that she would go this deep for a man. She’d broken her own rule: never fall in love.

  She pointed the gun at him. “Any last words, muthafucka, before I blow you to hell?”

  Swag looked at her like the natural-born savage he was. Shit, he didn’t care if he lived or died anymore. He’d lost enough already, and all he cared about was that his sons made better decisions than he had and that Josie was free and happy to follow her dreams as a prima ballerina. Swag smiled at her. He was a soldier and was never scared.

  “Fuck you, King! Fuck you, bitch! Go ahead and kill me. I’ve seen everything except Christ.”

  That angered King. She finally saw Swag’s true colors. He was a no-good-ass American nigga.

  “You stupid piece of shit.” She twisted her lips as she cocked the gun. “You could’ve had a future.”

  As she was about to pull the trigger, the police and FBI swarmed into the room and pointed their guns at both of them.

  “Put the gun down, Ms. Costello! Now!” shouted one of the FBI agents.

  King was shocked but kept her composure. She wasn’t one of those insane criminals who was going out in a blaze of glory. In her mind, these agents weren’t going to shoot up her beautiful body with bullets. She smiled at them seductively.

  “All right.” She slowly lowered the gun to the floor and stood up straight.

  “Now, back away from the weapon and put your hands in the air!” yelled the police officer.

  King did as she was told. One of the officers cuffed her. She blew him a kiss.

  “Hello, Alfred,” she chuckled. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

  The officer was one of her many clients. Almost every year, he spent his Christmas bonus for one night of pleasure with her girls.

  He mean-mugged her. “Shut up, bitch! You’re under arrest. Now, let’s go!”

  He escorted her out of the room. She looked at Swag and mouthed, “It ain’t over, bitch.”

  Once King and the officer exited the room, Swag sighed from relief. He had never been happier in his life to see the police. He was still a wanted fugitive, but that was better than being dead.

  Two big FBI agents picked him up and questioned him. “Solomon Carter, better known on the streets as Swag, right?”

  At first, he was going to lie, but he wanted to come clean so that he could face the next journey in his life. Swag nodded. “Yes.”

  “Do you know how much trouble you’re in?”

  Swag shamefully lowered his head.

  “Solomon Carter, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, murder, and kidnapping. Take him away, boys.”

  The agents handcuffed Swag and walked him through the Palace. They raided the place, and with so much chaos going on, people were crying and confused. Once Swag was downstairs, the agents escorted him out to the SWAT car. But before he got into the car, he saw a cop car driving off with King in it. Swag smiled and shouted, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, I’m free at last!”

  “Shut up, punk, and get your naked ass in the car. We got a long flight!”

  Swag didn’t care where he was going as long as he was free from King’s crazy ass forever.

  Chapter 44

  Unexpected Visitors

  The “King Kia Costello Story” and the “Solomon Carter, aka Swag, Story” had been blowing up in the media for the last few weeks. With lines such as “The Fall of a King,” or “The Fugitive Finally Caught,” everyone from BET, CBS, and even The Shade Room wanted a piece of the story. It was definitely newsworthy, and the famous people of the world who were in the Palace at the time of the raid were catching hell. They’d been exposed, and the media had a heyday showing the sexual escapades and the use of illegal drugs that took place at the Palace.

  King denied everything to the Feds. All she wanted was to get the rats that set her up. She wanted blood and revenge, but she couldn’t get out of jail because no bail had been set for her. So, with all the hookups she had in jail, she tried to make it a mini-vacation. She didn’t have to eat the shit they called food, she took private showers, and she got to make as many phone calls as she wanted. She tried to call Blood, but his number was disconnected. Even her mother’s and Santana’s numbers were disconnected. She felt so alone but was glad she’d made arrangements to have Madam Lourd’s body cremated and ashes sent to her. She called her lawyers that had gotten her off so many times. All her lawyers told her was t
hat without bail, all she could do was sit back and wait for her trial.

  * * *

  Swag was back in Rio de Janeiro, where all the bullshit had started. This time, he was all alone. The only thing he wondered about at night in his private cell was how the Feds caught him . . . but not Tyler. He knew something wasn’t right with that picture. Day after day, the Feds asked him where the rest of the fellas were, but Swag always said he didn’t know. In the Feds’ minds, they knew he was playing the dummy role. That didn’t stop them from threatening Swag, though, if he didn’t speak up. They told him he would go down with the massacre that happened back at the prison and face a possible life sentence without parole or even the death penalty.

  But one day, several men came to Brazil to give Swag an offer he couldn’t refuse. Costa Rica wanted King buried under the federal prison forever, and they figured their only ammunition was Swag, but they all needed to keep their hands clean just in case things went left. They were in the interrogation room waiting on him. Within moments, Swag entered the room wearing an orange prison jumpsuit with his hands and legs chained. Even though he was like an inmate, he still rocked the jumpsuit like he was rocking a white tank top, baggy jeans, a fresh pair of Jordans, and the handcuffs like platinum watches.

  Swag looked at the men. The first one he knew right away was none other than mobster Bruno Bello. Bruno looked fresh in a gray Tom Ford suit with matching shoes. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, and his beard was nicely trimmed.

  Swag stood there looking at the men with a rough look on his face. “So, what’s up?”

  “Mr. Carter, please sit down,” Bruno said in a smooth, deep voice.

  Swag did as he was told and kept his eyes locked with Bruno’s.

  “If you don’t know who I am, I’m Bruno Bello of the Bello Crime Family.”

  The two shook hands, and Swag nodded.

  “Let me introduce you to our other guests.” Bruno looked at the first man, a Sicilian in a tan khaki suit, looking like a crooked bookie. “This is my attorney, Georgie Falone.”

  Both men nodded. Bruno looked at the two other men who seemed to be of Latin ancestry. They were dressed in tailored suits. “These are some good associates of mine and very important men. This is the president of Costa Rica, and he is the vice president of Costa Rica.”

  “Hola, Señor Carter,” both men said.

  Swag nodded, then looked back at Bruno. “So, what do you all want with me?”

  They all laughed.

  “Don’t you get it? We want to help you,” Bruno said with a slick smile.

  Swag twisted his lips and cocked his head back. “How the hell you goin’ help my black ass? Shit, between the law and the media, my fate has been signed, sealed, and delivered. There ain’t no—”

  “Mr. Carter, will you just shut that hole in your face and hear us out?” Georgie said.

  Swag crossed his arms and listened. “Okay, shoot.”

  “Señor Carter, I know you’re an international fugitive, murderer, and kidnapper. But none of that matters to us. All I want is that bitch, Costello, behind bars forever! Her reign of terror has to come to an end in my country,” said the president in his native tongue.

  “What he’s saying is, he wants King’s ass underneath the jail forever. And with your help, we can get her there.”

  Swag was confused, especially since Bruno was King’s father. “Oh, Bruno, a few questions come to mind.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why do you need my help? I looked at the gangland documentary about King. It’s rumored that King is your child. So. why in the world do you want your child locked up?”

  Bruno laughed, but Swag sat there with a straight face.

  “Son, look, I have a lot of children by a lot of different women of all colors, but this one is the Antichrist. I want her to disappear forever out of the Bello bloodline. I need her to be locked up before she becomes a danger to herself and others. So, are you going to help us or not?”

  A lightbulb went off in Swag’s head. He realized this was his golden chance to get whatever he wanted out these gentlemen. “So . . .”

  “So, what?” asked Bruno, knowing precisely what Swag—or a high yellow moolie he saw him as—wanted. In his Italian mind, he knew moolies like Swag always wanted something for their services to the Bello Family.

  “What’s in it for me if I help you out? Because you want something, and I want something. Seems like it’s a win-win deal, so what do I get in return if I agree to help you all bring King down for good?” Swag had a slick smile on his face.

  Bruno sat back in his chair, nodding his head. He chuckled and sat up. “Okay, Swag, if you agree to help us, I can make sure Costa Rica drops all charges against you. And, to cut your sentencing real short back in Brazil and make sure you arrive safely back in the United States.”

  So far, Swag loved what he was hearing. He nodded his head with a smile.

  “Also, my friend, I’ve done my research on you back in the States, and I see that you have a few warrants for your arrest for distribution of an illegal substance, possession of a weapon, and even armed robbery. To top it off, you’re a convicted felon. Am I right?”

  Swag was shocked at what Bruno knew, but he had to remember who he was dealing with.

  Bruno smiled. Got his ass, he thought. “To sweeten the deal, if you agree to help my friends and me, I’ll make sure all your US charges are dropped, and I can get that title ‘felon’ off your record forever.”

  Swag’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe the words coming out Bruno’s mouth, especially getting the convicted felon label off his record permanently. Swag could start his life over again as a new man.

  “Are you serious, Bruno? You can really do that?”

  “What do you think, Swag? I’m giving you the chance of a lifetime that many black men in America wish they were getting. It’s a chance for a new beginning.”

  Swag thought of so much he could do with his new life if he agreed to help Bruno and company. He could get his GED, get a real job, and maybe go to school. He even thought about being back in his sons’ lives forever. So much was going through his mind.

  “So how about it, Swag? Are you in or out?”

  Swag was still caught up in his thoughts, thinking more about his new beginning.

  “Earth to Mr. Carter. Come in, Mr. Carter!” shouted the vice president.

  Swag was still in a trance. “What?”

  “So, what’s it gonna be? Freedom, or would you rather live in a rat’s nest forever?” Bruno asked.

  Swag took a deep breath. “If I agree to help you, I want terms.”

  “It depends.”

  “Okay, while I’m in prison, I want protection since I am going to be a world-class snitch. Two, once I get back to the States, I want to have a place and a job waiting for me. And a bank account with $500K to get me started. Is that too much to ask?”

  Georgie nodded. Bruno looked over at Swag. “If those are your terms, then we have a deal.”

  Swag nodded. “Deal.”

  Swag hated to be a snitch, but if it gave him the chance to start a new life and be back home with his boys, then he was all for it. I’m almost there, he thought.

  Georgie then gave Swag an envelope.

  Swag had concern etched on his face as he looked at the envelope. “What the hell is this?”

  “Just have these notes memorized by the trial, and we’ll do the rest,” said Georgie.

  Swag picked up the envelope, looking at and back at the men. “Cool, just remember my terms.”

  Bruno twisted his lips. “Guard!”

  A big guard came in.

  “You can take him away until we need him again. Swag, just remember to memorize your notes and testimony.”

  The guard took Swag away, leaving the men alone in the room.

  “Do you think the American will go for this?” asked Bruno.

  “Of course, sir. Like Blood told me, these eggplants will do anything
for money,” said Georgie smiling.

  Bruno, the president, and the vice president smiled. They finally had enough info to bring King down. Swag was their paid alibi to keep eyes away from them.

  Chapter 45

  Lady in Gold

  After a month, the trial of King Kia Costello was finally taking place in front of the Supreme Court of Costa Rica. The media had a field day with her trial. Everyone expected her to look stressed out and rough-looking when she exited the limousine. But she had them all completely fooled. She looked so good that she wanted to tell them what Beyoncé used to say, Bow down, bitches. She came out wearing a custom-made Neiman Marcus couture gold gown, looking like the royalty she was. Her makeup was on point, thanks to her glam squad. Her long hair was braided into a ponytail with flowers in it. And she wore gold Manolos on her perfectly pedicured feet.

  People didn’t know if it were a trial or fashion week in Paris. Jaws dropped everywhere. They couldn’t believe a woman as beautiful as King was a cold-blooded killer. Many photographers rushed to take pictures of her. She posed for the cameras, knowing she had an open-and-shut case. Reporters asked her who designed her gown and had who done her makeup, totally forgetting the questions related to her trial. King loved every bit of it.

  Finally, federal marshals stepped in and forced the media to back up. King continued to smile, knowing the marshals were feeling her as well. She blew them kisses and winked at them.

  “Come on, lady, move it!” one of them said, who gripped her arm.

  “Oh, baby, I like it rough,” King said seductively.

  He rolled his eyes but instantly got a woody.

  * * *

  During the trial, the prosecuting attorney asked questions about the drugs found in her place, her whorehouse, and the well-known people that they couldn’t name who came to the Palace. King knew her rich and famous clients paid their lawyers overtime to keep their so-called good names out of this scandal. She answered the prosecutor’s questions smoothly and told him that she didn’t allow drugs in her place. She also reminded him that prostitution was allowed in Costa Rica.

  The prosecutor went on about the many murders that she was suspected of being involved in throughout the years.