by Shelly Ellis
The knots in his stomach tightened as he approached the gravel driveway of the Fullers’ property, kicking up rocks and dirt in his wake. He squinted at the home’s exterior as the car slowed to a stop. The house looked exactly as he remembered it—the wooden porch, the chipped paint on the siding, and the rocking chair perched near the bay window. But this time, he noticed another car in the car port parked next to Simone’s pickup truck—a silver Toyota Camry. He suspected it was Simone’s mother’s car. A few lights were on inside the house, burning bright in the living room and some of the upstairs bedroom windows. Seeing the house look so serene and ordinary, he breathed a sigh of relief as he tugged his key out of the ignition.
Thank God. I got here in time, he thought. He had made it here before any of Dolla Dolla’s goons had.
He threw open the car door, hopped out, and slammed it shut behind him. He raced toward the porch stairs but paused again. He could barely hear it above the incessant chirping of the crickets in the high grass surrounding the house, over the whir of the cicadas in the trees overhead, but he heard it all the same. It was a rhythmic, piercing beep that got louder as he drew near the porch. He immediately recognized it as the house alarm.
“Shit,” he muttered before taking the porch stairs two at a time.
“Simone! Simone!” he yelled as he tugged his Glock 43 out of his waistband. He raised his fist and began to bang on the door. He’s stomach lurched when the door swung open with a slow creak. Splinters on the floor showed that it had been forced open already. But the door came to a stop abruptly, thumping against something that had fallen on the hardwood.
Ricky looked down and saw a foot, then a jeans-clad leg, then a torso soaked with blood from a gaping wound in the center of the chest. The woman’s dark eyes stared up at the living room ceiling. Her mouth was gaping in a permanent scream. Ricky winced when he realized who the woman was. He had seen her posing in pictures back at Simone’s old place, but he had never gotten to meet her in person—and now it looked like he never would.
“Nadine,” he whispered with a grimace.
It was Simone’s mother. She was half slumped on the couch near the door, half on the floor—like she’d been sitting on the sofa and stood up when the door had been kicked open, when she had been taken out by a series of bullets. The poor woman hadn’t stood a chance. But if she was dead, did that mean that Simone was dead too, and their baby?
His throat tightened with panic. His heart, already beating fast, seemed to kick into overdrive.
“Simone!” Ricky yelled again, shouting to be heard over the home alarm. He raced into the kitchen and down the hall, gazing into doorways as he ran past the first-floor bathroom and rec room. “Simone, where the hell are you?”
He shoved open the door to a closet, making sure that she wasn’t hiding inside, crouched in the fetal position. But she wasn’t in there either.
He charged toward the stairs and went clamoring to the top floor, almost tripping over his own feet, screaming her name the whole way.
“Ricky?” someone called out.
He knew from the sound of the voice that it wasn’t Simone. He whipped around to find Melvin lying on the floor, braced against the wall. His bald head and brow were covered with sweat. He was breathing in and out sharply through his teeth. It came out in bursts and a low whistle. His right hand was clutched over his leg where blood pooled on the carpet underneath him. His gun sat at his side.
“Nigga, what . . . y-you . . . you doin’ h-here?” Melvin asked between gasps. Ricky could barely hear him over the beeping alarm. “Dolla sent you?”
Ricky didn’t answer his question. Instead he took one menacing step toward Melvin, then another, barely able to contain his rage. “Where is she?” he asked. “Is she dead?”
“Yeah, she dead! One of them bitches shot me though, but I got her ass too. They’re in the bedroom down the hall.” He gestured with his bloody hand to his right. “I smoked those bitches, but Dolla said to call him when it’s done.” Melvin winced as he reached for his gun and tried to push himself to his feet. “Call him on your phone. We gotta do it before the cops get—”
Melvin was silenced by a bullet to the head, spraying the wall with a mix of blood, bone, and brain matter. Tears were in Ricky’s eyes as Melvin’s limp body fell to the floor. Ricky then fired again and again, watching as the body twitched and jumped. In the end, he’d emptied five bullets in him before he lowered his Glock back to his side.
They were all dead. Melvin had said so himself. Simone. . . the baby . . . they were gone.
He closed his eyes and began to silently weep. He slumped to the floor beside Melvin’s body.
What else could God take from him? He’d lost his sister and his grandmother before the age of twenty. He’d lost his restaurant and his livelihood and would likely lose his freedom too when he finally went to jail. Simone and their baby were the only precious things he’d had left. Now the few hopes and dreams he’d locked away, had been ripped to shreds.
Ricky gritted his teeth as warm tears slid onto his cheeks and sank into his beard.
If he had killed Melvin the day Melvin had murdered Tamika, this might not have happened. His own cowardice had led to this.
He gazed down the hall at the open bedroom door. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to see Simone’s dead body, but he knew he had to do it. He had to say goodbye before the cops got here. This would be his last chance.
After about a minute, he got himself together enough to push himself back to his feet. He walked down the carpeted corridor and approached the bedroom door. He hesitated before easing the door open, bracing himself for what he was about to see.
A shot fired. Then another. He recoiled when he heard them. One bullet missed his shoulder by only a few inches and instead lodged in the door frame.
“Stay back! Stay the fuck back!” Simone screamed, and Ricky swore it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
“Baby, it’s me!” he said, dropping his gun to the floor, holding up his hands in a mock sign of surrender. “It’s me!” he repeated, peeking his head around the doorway.
“Ricky?” she squeaked.
He saw her kneeling on the floor beside the queen-size bed with Skylar’s head cradled in her lap. Both women were covered in blood, though Skylar seemed much worse off than Simone. The young woman’s chest rose and fell as she seemed to fight for every breath. Blood oozed from the corner of her mouth.
Ricky ran toward them and fell to Simone’s side.
“I-I tried to stop the b-b-bleeding,” she stuttered between sobs. “But it won’t . . . it won’t stop.”
He looked down and saw that she was holding a towel against her sister’s stomach. The pink towel was soaked and mostly red now. Skylar’s lids were drifting closed as her eyeballs rolled wildly. He could tell Skylar wasn’t going to make it.
“Are you shot?” he asked, examining Simone, running his hands over her face and her torso. She was covered in blood but he suspected and hoped it wasn’t her own. “Are you okay?”
“Stop it!” She angrily slapped away his hand. “I’m fine! Stop fucking worrying about me! Worry about her, Ricky! Help me stop the bleeding. Hold this while I call 9-1-1!”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that if the alarm was sounding then the police were already on the way, but no one could possibly get here in time to save her sister. Instead he took the towel, like she directed, and applied pressure.
“It’s okay, Sky,” she said to her sister as she gently laid her head on the bedroom floor. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.”
She grabbed the edge of the bed and hoisted herself to her feet with a loud grunt, cradling her pregnant belly as she did it. It had gotten even bigger since the last time he’d seen her. She then waddled to her night table and grabbed her cordless phone and began to dial just as Skylar took her last shaky breath, as the young woman’s eyes went blank. Ricky shifted and placed
two fingers along her throat, checking for a pulse. He felt nothing.
“Hello!” Simone shouted behind him. “Hello, yes, I have an emergency.”
“She’s gone,” he said, removing the towel.
“What?” she shouted back to him, frowning as she returned her attention to the dispatcher. “Yes, my sister has been shot. We need help!”
“I said she’s gone. Skylar’s gone, baby. She’s dead.”
She turned back around to face him and dropped the phone from her hands. She shoved him aside and cupped Skylar’s face.
“Sky? Sky!” she screamed.
Ricky placed his hands on her shoulders. “We need to go.”
“No! No!” she howled, grabbing her sister and cradling her head against her chest. “I’m not . . . I’m not leaving her! I’m not leaving her!”
“She’s dead, baby. I’m sorry, but she’s gone. We have to go,” he said in a firmer voice, reaching for the phone and hanging it up. “Melvin didn’t call Dolla. He’s gonna figure out something went wrong, and if the cops get here and he finds out you’re still alive and I’m here, we’ll all be dead. We have to go!”
“I said no!” She continued to shake her head and weep, to cling to her sister’s body fiercely, like a wolf mother who refuses to abandon her dead cub.
“Think about the baby,” he said to her. “Think about our son. You promised me you wouldn’t sacrifice him, that you’d protect him. Don’t do this!”
She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her gaze was so desolate, so tortured. But he must have finally gotten through to her because she slowly eased her little sister back to the floor. With shaky limbs, she slid back across the bloody floor. He helped Simone to her feet and he could feel her trembling in his arms. She dropped her head to his shoulder and sobbed as he eased her down the hall. They stepped over Melvin’s legs like they would a piece of fallen furniture before they made their way to the staircase.
When they reached the first floor and the living room, Simone started screaming all over again.
“Mom! Mom! Oh, God! Mommy!” she screeched as they passed her mother’s body. She stopped and reached down to the floor as if to grab her mother’s hand, but he roughly yanked her back.
“No!” she yelled when she realized he was pulling her away from the body. “Please, Ricky! Please, I can’t just—”
“I said we have to go,” he repeated firmly, wrapping his arms around her, almost carrying her out the front door.
It wasn’t easy but he got her to his car. When he swung the passenger door open she nearly fell into the seat, sobbing uncontrollably, saying words that were nearly unintelligible. He slammed the car door shut behind her and walked around to the driver’s side, before taking one last glance at the house, climbing inside, and pulling off with no idea where they were headed next.
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A READING GROUP GUIDE
KNOW YOUR PLACE
Shelly Ellis
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included to enhance your group’s reading of Shelly Ellis’s Know Your Place.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Do you think Derrick made the right decision not to go to the police when he discovered the suitcases under Cole’s bed?
2. Ricky decides to become an informant for the Metro Police out of fear that Dolla Dolla will find out he was the reason behind the raids. Would you have flipped under similar circumstances, or would you have just taken the fall?
3. Ricky decides to track down Simone after he is arrested. Do you think he’s only motivated by revenge, like he says?
4. Jamal is faced with the choice of protecting his own reputation or protecting the reporter Phillip’s life. He offers himself to Mayor Johnson as a sacrifice. Were you surprised by Jamal’s decision? What does that say about how he’s evolved as a character since the previous book?
5. Derrick admits that he is in love with both Melissa and Morgan. Do you think this is true? Can a man really love two women equally—or does he just want to have his cake and eat it too?
6. Ricky knows that he can never again really trust or believe Simone, but decides to rekindle their secret relationship. Could you be involved romantically with someone you couldn’t trust would always tell you the truth?
7. Jamal decides to quit working for Mayor Johnson, despite the risk. Do you think the mayor really is bluffing with his threat again, or does he mean it this time around?
8. Jamal and Melissa finally start the romantic relationship he always wanted. Do you think he is the rebound guy or are they legitimately falling for each other?
9. Ricky once again places himself in the line of fire to help Simone. Do you think he is right in his motivations, or is he once again making a grave mistake?