Torn by the Code

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Torn by the Code Page 13

by Eureka


  She smirked. “You like that? Do you feel good yet? Let me make you feel even better . . .” she seductively said.

  “What was that? Mita, what the fuck are you doing? I don’t—” I tried to move my lips, but I couldn’t even feel them. The more I tried to speak, the more my words sounded garbled. She took off all my clothes and continued her little trick on me. Unable to move, I watched as she knelt down and spread my legs wide. She placed her tongue on the inner part of my thighs.

  “Just lie back and relax,” she said as she smirked and began feasting on my pussy. I wanted to cut her head clean off her shoulders, but I was immobile. I was forced to let her have her way with me.

  I watched her head twirl around and round in a circular motion as she licked and slurped on my clit as if she were devouring her favorite meal. I tried one last effort to shove her, but everything went hazy and blurry. Then it went dark.

  Dazed and confused, I struggled to get my bearings. When I finally came to, I moved my hands up and down my body and felt that I was semidressed. I eased up a little and saw some sex toys sprawled throughout the room. When I turned my head to the left, I saw a huge, long black dildo and some anal gel along with a few more sex toys. I was on the bed. The last thing I remembered was that I was sitting on the sofa in the living room. I looked on the other side of me and saw Mita sleeping with a huge smile plastered on her face. I slowly got up from the bed trying not to disturb her and keep my balance at the same time. I moved at a snail’s pace trying my hardest not to fall. I saw a shirt on the edge of the bed and grabbed it as I slowly exited the bedroom. In shock and feeling my kitty pounding like I had a long night of hard-core sex, I saw her briefcase she left on the table. I went over to it and noticed there was a lock on it. I looked at the numbers on it and saw that some of them were not aligned. Once I nudged the numbers into their place, I tried to open it. The buckles at the top popped open. I made a sound, so I stayed still listening for Mita. Then I heard her snoring.

  I opened the briefcase. I wanted to see if Mita had any drugs in there that would knock her ass out for good because after this little episode, I was done. Now that I thought about it, no wonder she didn’t object when I told her I wanted to leave the hospital. She couldn’t wait to do these sick things to me without a chance of getting caught.

  The only things I saw were some papers and file folders. I grabbed one of the folders and examined it closer. There were pictures of me, Naheri, Flex, and my son. The ones of Flex and I were older photos, but Naheri’s and Junior’s looked more recent. I searched some more. The next folder I picked up had Flex’s name on it. There were photos of a charred body and an x-ray of what looked like a chest. I could make out the rest, but it was gruesome. My heart sank once again when a picture of my love Flex was on the next page. His eyes were bright and that smile . . . the same smile I lost myself in a long time ago. Thoughts of him consumed me. The last moment of his life was spent trying to save me. I wanted to be with him. I felt like I couldn’t breathe without him. As a tear started to form in my eyes, I laid the folder down and picked up another one. I took a deep breath when the next picture was one of my son. His eyes seemed low and hazy as if he was semiconscious. But underneath that, I noticed a slight grin on his face. It was a faint one, but it was so close to that same smile his father possessed. My hurt feelings came and swept all over me. I totally forgot about what Mita had done to me. Then at that very moment, I saw a folder with Naheri’s name on it. Inside were a few pics of him and a huge check for $1 million made out to “Dr. Mita McKinley.”

  I was even more confused. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now. I managed to wipe away the tears that decided to cascade down my cheeks. The more I thought of what could be, or what the hell was going on, the more I wanted answers.

  I looked through her briefcase some more and came across a few small white oval-shaped pills much like the ones she gave me. I picked the baggie up containing the pills and saw the number “7.5” on the top of the pills. I wondered what they were, so I went over to my laptop. “Zopiclone 7.5” came up when I typed a brief description and the numbers on Google. “A strong sedative, known to help with difficulties sleeping,” I read aloud. Every word pissed me off more. According to this site, this pill has been used to render a person helpless if given in higher doses. I wanted to run in there and slit her fucking throat.

  I sat stunned for a second or two; then I remembered my trusty, dependable “right arm,” the one I can always count on underneath the cabinet. I walked over to the cabinet. It’s been a long time, but in all my hideaways, I hid my weapons throughout just in case of an emergency. When I got in front of the cabinet, I looked up in the mirror that hung just above and caught a glimpse of myself.

  The sight of my once nicely done-up hair lying flat, matted to my head, threw me off. My eyes were puffy and red from constant crying. My always nicely groomed, expensively manicured nails were a thing of the past. I had let my depression take over my life. Even my money was almost gone. I tried checking my offshore accounts and found out they had been wiped out. I knew Naheri was behind it. From what Mita told me, she had me declared dead and signed my death certificate.

  To the world, Elana Dolvan was no more. She made it look as if I’d succumbed to my injuries from the fire.

  She had me in a position where I would be left vulnerable, depending on her. Even my so-called trusted soldiers left me standing alone. I stood in the mirror for what seemed like an eternity, contemplating every thought, every moment, and all of the people who have crossed me. I was so consumed with anger the more I thought about it. I reached down under the cabinet and grabbed my machete. No matter how hurt or depressed I was, I never leave my most trusted weapon.

  “Mmm, time will take its toll. The deceit, the backstabbing. . . and heads will roll. Dem wan test me? They will see there will never be another, not one, no bitch like me,” I said as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I smiled knowing the destruction I was ready to put on those who had crossed me. I thought of ways I was going to find my nothing-ass husband and save my son. I want to make sure Naheri pays with his life for taking the love of my life, Flex, away from me. I continued my slight rhyme aloud just above a whisper as I turned the shower on.

  Chapter 26

  Flex Is Back

  A smack hit my cheek. Hard and fast. Then another to the other side. I couldn’t move. I was tied tightly to a chair. The room was dark but had enough light for me to see that I was right where I needed to be. The last thing I remembered was trying to climb a fence on the grounds, and when my feet hit the ground, I was met with a hard hit sending me to la-la land. This was not how I planned it.

  “Yeah, ya wan fuck wit’ my shit! Ya tink ya gwan come in mi spot and take what’s mine!” I was strapped down to a chair as this big, black, and real ugly Jamaican sumo wrestler-looking dude pounded away on my ribs. I didn’t know how much more of this my body could take.

  “This . . . all . . . your bitch ass . . . got? It’s gonna take a lot more of that . . . bitch muthafucka, to kill me,” I said panting and out of breath. The pain was horrible, but I had to do what I needed just a little bit longer before shit got real.

  “Ah, ah . . . fat muthafucka,” I said as I laughed and spat blood on the floor. There was no way I was dying like a punk, not like this. The look the big dude had on his face was pure anger. I continued to taunt him some more. With each punch he delivered, I envisioned my son’s and Elana’s face. I knew they needed me.

  This muthafucka was sicker and stronger than I thought. I heard a cracking sound when he hit my rib one more time. The powerful force behind his punch nearly knocked the wind out of me. He drew his fist back one more time to deliver a punch dead center in my jaw—but that’s when the door came crashing down halting him in midswing.

  I thanked the heavens that the cavalry had finally arrived.

  “Yeah, nigga, let’s make this shit fair, shall we?” my boy said as he rushed over and knocked the big
dude out with the one hitta quitter. He hit that fool so hard he went crashing to the floor. The other dude tried to flee the scene, but he was met with a bullet to his knee, toppling him over in agony.

  Peanut, Knight, and Vell rushed in behind him with guns drawn.

  “Damn, niggas, what took y’all so long? Shit, he almost killed me.”

  “My bad, homie; you know we not from ’round here. These muthafuckas don’t speak no English, and it smells like shit. Damn! Let’s hurry up. Get yo’ shorty and be out,” Vell yelled out as he untied my hands from the chair.

  “Shit, man, this shit is fucked up, a’ight. I got word my son is on the top level of this muthafuckin’ mansion.”

  “Man, how the hell they knew you was here? We kept this shit on the low once we got confirmation he was here.”

  “Man, this shit was mapped out like a top secret mission,” Knight and Peanut said as we all stood over the guard that got his knee blown out.

  I looked at each of them wondering the same thing. “Pick that bitch up. I’ma show his ass what it really is.” Knight stood at about six foot five and was 240 pounds of pure muscle. He worked out. He had no problem lifting him up and putting him in the same chair I had been tied in. He made it seem like that man was a little rag doll when he tossed his ass on the chair, then quickly tied his hands to it.

  “So, I’ma ask you this one time, and one time only. How did you know I was in town?”

  “I—”

  “Make sure you answer wisely, homie, ’cause your life depends on it.”

  He looked me up and down and started laughing. Both sides of his lips were curled upward as if he smelled something foul. He sat up straight in the chair. “Ya tink mi scared of you?” He hawked up a nasty glop of spit and aimed it in my direction. It narrowly missed my shoe.

  I stepped back a little and looked at him smirking and said, “That was some nasty shit. Ya muda teach ya that?” I said, mocking his voice. “How did you know I was here or alive?”

  I gave him one punch to the gut and another to the eye. Then I drew back one more time and delivered a blow to his lip. Blood started spurting everywhere.

  He flinched his body down in pain; then he slowly raised it back up and started laughing. “This nutin’; ya hit like a bitch.” He spit more blood on the floor. Peanut rushed over and kicked him in the back of the head like he was a karate ninja or something. We all looked at Peanut and laughed.

  “Damn, fool, don’t kill his ass. I need to find my shorty. You been watching too many of them damn flicks, Joe. Nigga, we use hands or guns, not yo’ fuckin’ feet,” I said as we all burst into laughter.

  I was getting tired of the games by now. I leaned down and forcefully grabbed the dude by the back of the neck. “Where’s my son?” I said with spit flying all over his face. At this point, I was angrier than before, and time was running out. He wasn’t giving answers fast enough.

  Images of my son being hurt or Elana in so much pain invaded my thoughts. The more I envisioned them, the more tears I saw on their faces. I looked him right in the eye. “I see you a loyal muthafucka, huh? You tryin’a be a rider at the end of the day, huh? Okay, have it your way.” I raised my Glock 9 mm up and placed the tip right on the temple of his head. I put my finger right on the trigger and slowly began to pull. Sweat beads started dripping from his matted hair. For the first time, I could now see fear start to form in his eyes. I felt nothing, and he looked like he bit off more than he could chew. He was about to lose his life over something or someone who didn’t give two shits about him.

  I got one more inch closer to pulling the trigger. “Wait, wait! What ya wan know?” he said trembling.

  “Dis not mi fight. Mi not gwan meet the Grim Reaper for a few coins. Dem holy one knows all. ’Im see ya every move, boi. He eyes everyw’ere. Da boy safe. He roots of the holy one. No one touchin’ ’im. Da holy one wan ya dead. Ya can’t come back from dead no more. He ’ave the witch, Dutchtress. He cursed to make ya and her pay for da lies and the murda ya put on ’im family,” he nervously said as he shifted in the chair.

  I wondered who was back in the States after Dutch. There was no way I was gonna let that happen. But I have a huge problem. Naheri knew I was alive and knew enough to send someone to kill me.

  I turned my back toward them trying to put some answers to my questions. The who and the where came to a halt when I heard three loud pops. I quickly turned back around to see the big guy’s head seeping blood and a gaping hole in the side of his temple. Peanut stood with a smoking gun in his hand. “Nigga, why the fuck you do that? I needed to get some more info from him! P, man, what the fuck is up with that?” I yelled.

  “Man, Flex, that nigga flinched, and I thought he was about to up itchy on us so, I swept him first,” he said shrugging his shoulders looking like he didn’t care that he’d just murdered my only chance to find my son in this big-ass maze.

  Something wasn’t sitting right with me about that. It was too quick and messy. Besides, his excuse about why he shot him was lame as hell. The one thing I have learned the hard way is, money and power are an evil that can turn family against family, son against father. Hell, a mother would even sell her child to get a touch of the almighty dollar. I felt like I had someone paying me back for my good deed with no strings attached. It was my duty to come to Jamaica and find my son.

  “Fuck! Damn, man, how we gon’ get to ya shorty? Peanut, man, that shit was some foul shit, nigga. You always on some Rambo-type shit,” Vell said as he took a look outside the door.

  “Man, let’s roll before somebody comes down here. I know they heard that shit. That was some sloppy work, Peanut,” Knight said as he nonchalantly walked toward the door. We all hurried to the door which led up to the main floors of the house.

  By the time we made it to the top, we could hear some Jamaican goons heading out the door. We all were in stealth mode maneuvering through the house. I peeked into the first room we came to, and no one was in there. We moved slowly across a long hallway to another room. I looked into that room, and there sitting in a chair holding her stomach and singing was a beautiful female. She was an eye-catcher, and she resembled Dutch. I watched her hum and sing light lullabies as she looked out of the window.

  “La, la, and the cradle will fall.” Her mellow, soft, and soothing voice almost had me lost in thought for a moment. I started to reflect on the rare moments when I was able to see Elana and Junior as mother and son. Elana would try to use her soft voice when she sang to him. She couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket, but she tried, nonetheless, especially when it came to Junior. When he was fussy, her singing always made him cry more. It was still a sight to see. One of the most cutthroat bosses in the Chicagoland area was reduced to a pile of girl when it came down to showing love to her son, our son. What I wouldn’t give to see her in moments like this again.

  “Hey, man, what you gon’ do? Just stand here staring at the bitch or make a move?” Vell said in a whisper, tapping me on the shoulder. I stared at the lady a little more because her features looked familiar, I was trying to place if I’d seen her from somewhere before. Her resemblance to Elana was enough to stop me from moving in quickly and blowing her brains out.

  “Yo, Joe, he right. Did you forget there is about a hundred mad Jamaican muthafuckas that’s gonna get hip to the mess downstairs soon enough and come hunting for our asses?” Knight sternly said as he kept watch in the opposite direction.

  I was about to make a move toward the beauty, “Ah, ah . . . Help, hel—” she screamed. I rushed over to silence her by grabbing a glass vase that was on a table nearby. I hit her with enough force to knock her out. I didn’t know who she was and what part she would play in this deadly game Naheri set up, but one thing was for sure . . . She was coming with me. I had a feeling she was going to be my ace of spades.

  I threw her over my shoulder, and we all made our exit without alerting anyone. Due to the huge plot of land, we were able to scope out a weak spot in Naheri’s security
and took advantage. Money talks and Naheri wasn’t treating his men right. I found out that some of his security men were planning on robbing his ass anyway, so I just gave them an incentive to help me out to make their story believable. It was simple. We take the girl, and they come in take what they want; then they leave, never returning. It was easy to get into their simple-minded heads. Now my next move in this chess game has to lead me to victory.

  Although I was disappointed that we were not able to thoroughly search the house for my son, I know by taking his pregnant woman, it would bring him to his knees. After all, Junior ain’t his blood.

  Chapter 27

  Death Is a Good Look on You

  I drove down the narrow road heading to my house. I looked toward the mango trees when I saw headlights coming, but I thought nothing of it. I continued to my house. I pulled up at the gate, but the usual guard wasn’t there to let me in. That was odd. I shrugged it off and thought maybe he went to take a dump or something. I punched in my code, and the gate opened. I drove up to the house, and again, I didn’t see anyone patrolling the front of the house. Now my mind was uneasy. I parked the car quickly and ran into the house.

  “Baby? Where are you?” I didn’t hear any footsteps.

  I immediately ran up the stairs dashing into the nursery. A vase lay on the floor broken. I quickly ran through all the bedrooms searching for someone. “Net, Netta, baby, where are you?” I yelled as I rushed from room to room searching for her. I halted in my tracks when I spotted a long line of blood trickles on the floor, leading toward the back stairs. I feared the worst. I quickly ran down the stairs with my heart pumping fast. Horrible thoughts invaded my mind. Is my wife dead? Has my son had been taken again? From the moment I saw the bodies of my henchmen laid out on the floor of the basement I knew then that my plan was unraveling at the seams. The one moment I feared most was now here.

 

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