Chapter 18 #2
“You told me something that night,” I continued, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Do you remember what it was?”
She quickly shook her head. “You’re mistaken. I told you I don’t know a Rich.”
Giani tried to step back, but I grabbed her arm before she could move.
“Stop fucking lying to me.”
She opened her mouth again, probably to lie one more time, and I smacked that bitch across the top of her head with the butt of my gun.
“You begged me and Booda to come to Dallas to save you because a nigga you met beat you and raped you! Do you remember now, bitch?”
Giani cried out as she stumbled sideways, crashing into the edge of the coffee table before hitting the floor. The mirrored tray rattled violently, and one of the candles toppled over as she grabbed the top of her head.
“What the fuck!” she screamed, and I was on her before she could get back up.
“You lied to me!” I shouted, snatching her by the front of her shirt and dragging her upright. “You lied to me, and people died behind that shit!”
“Koko, stop!” Tears spilled down her face as she tried to pry my hand loose. “You’re scaring me!”
“Good!” I screamed in her face. “‘Cause I remember every fucking thing!”
“No! Your mind—”
“Do you also wanna know what was on the flash drive?” I asked, cutting her off.
Giani’s eyes widened, shock freezing her in place.
“Yeah. That’s what the fuck I thought.”
“Koko, listen—”
“No, bitch. You listen.” I delivered an open-handed slap across her face that whipped her head to the side.
“I saw laying up with the same nigga you claimed kidnapped, beat, and raped you. Y’all were laughing and smiling, and you kept tapping his shoulder, saying Rich this and Rich that, cooing and shit,” I mocked in a voice as sweet as the one she’d put on in the video.
Giani shook her head frantically. “It wasn’t what it looked like!”
“You think I’m stupid?” I snapped. “You were laid up with that nigga, telling him me and Booda hit his spots!”
Her crying turned louder.
“You told him we robbed him!” I screamed. “That’s why his people started coming for us!”
“Koko, please—”
“No!” I barked. “We didn’t know none of that shit when you called us to Dallas crying and begging for help!” My chest heaved violently as the rest continued clicking together inside my head. “You played us.”
Giani folded herself into a ball.
“You had us out there blind. Booda and I were getting real fucking money! We didn’t give a damn about niggas moving to our hoods to hustle because we forced them to buy their dope from us, and we taxed.
” My voice shook, rage and disbelief crashing together.
“That whole fucking war started because of you.”
“I was scared!” she cried.
“Stop lying, bitch! Own up to your shit. I got shot because of you!” I screamed back.
The room went silent after that. Dead silent.
I stared at her while the memory replayed again in my head. The gunfire. The chaos. The pain ripping through my body. Then Rich was standing over me the same way I’d done to him.
“He shot me in the head because you told him where I would be.” I paused for a moment.
“Only you knew…” A tear slipped from my eye. “Because you set up the sale between me and your cousins from upstate. I believed you because we’d done business with them before, and I never thought you’d betray me.”
Giani’s face twisted violently as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen!” she screamed.
“You lying ass bitch!” I lunged for her again, but this time, Giani fought back.
Her hands flew into my face, nails scratching across my skin as we rolled into the coffee table together. The mirrored tray crashed to the floor, glass shattering while candles rolled across the carpet.
“Get off me!” she shrieked.
I grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard enough to drag a scream out of her throat.
“You ruined my fucking life!” I shouted.
“No!” she cried, thrashing wildly beneath me. “You ruined your own being greedy! You never deserved Booda or the life he provided for you,” she said, and before I knew what happened, something hard cracked the side of my head.
Pain exploded instantly, and I rolled off her, my vision blurring as I grabbed the side of my skull. A heavy decorative statue slipped from Giani’s trembling hand and hit the floor with a dull thud beside the broken glass.
“Fuck—” I groaned, the room tilting violently as Giani scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door.
“Giani!” I yelled as I slowly stood and stumbled after her.
Another sharp wave of pain slammed through my head as the front door flew open. By the time I reached it, she was halfway across the breezeway.
“Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help me!”
My breathing turned ragged as I braced myself against the doorway. The migraine building inside my skull felt vicious. Hot pressure spread behind my eyes while my balance threatened to give out completely.
Still, I lifted the gun. Aimed. And pulled the trigger.
The gunshot ripped through the complex, and Giani jerked forward violently before collapsing onto the concrete. Silence followed for half a second, then screams started somewhere below.
I staggered down the breezeway toward her, one hand pressed against my head while the other kept the gun aimed low at my side. My vision kept blurring in and out, but I forced myself to keep moving until I finally reached her.
Giani groaned weakly as blood spread beneath her, and I used my foot to roll her onto her back.
Her eyes found mine instantly.
And then she smiled.
A weak, bloody smile.
“You finally figured it out,” she rasped. “I wanted everything,” she admitted, breathing unevenly. “Your clothes. Your apartment. Your reputation.” Tears mixed with blood near her mouth as she laughed weakly. “Booda too.”
Something dark twisted deeper inside me.
“You walked through life like you were that bitch,” she continued. “Like you were the only hoe that mattered.” Her eyes drifted across my face. “Meanwhile, I was just your single, broke sidekick. The third wheel, if you will. The crazy part, I really did love you.”
The migraine pounding through my skull intensified.
“You really loved me? Bitch, do you know how stupid you sound?” I asked quietly.
“Yes, but it’s the truth. You don’t know what it feels like watching everybody choose you over and over again. That’s why you were supposed to die,” Giani replied. “And if you did, I could finally stop feeling second place to you.”
For a second, all I heard was the ringing inside my head.
Then Giani laughed again.
Soft.
Weak.
Cruel.
“Maybe in your next life you’ll get to be that bitch,” I replied.
Then I emptied the clip into her face.
The gunshot erupted, tearing through the silence, and I staggered forward, my heart pounding, disbelief mingling with the horror of what I had just done.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer with each passing second.
I stood there, chest heaving, the gun hanging limp at my side as smoke curled from the barrel.
My ears rang with a high-pitched whine that wouldn’t stop, and beneath it, I could hear the shuffle of doors opening, the murmur of voices, and neighbors emerging to witness the aftermath of what I’d done.
What I’d just done.
The migraine that had been building behind my eyes suddenly crested, and I staggered backward, my free hand pressing hard against my temple. The world tilted sideways, and I had to force myself to keep from falling.
Giani lay sprawled on the concrete, her body still, her eyes fixed on nothing. The blood pooled around her head in a dark halo, spreading slowly across the rough texture of the concrete, dead center of the apartments.
The gun hung at my side as I stared at Giani’s body. Decades of friendship lay lifeless on that concrete, and yet, I felt nothing but an empty ache. And though I couldn’t make myself cry, part of me broke knowing there was a time I would’ve killed anybody else in the world to protect her.
My head throbbed where she’d hit me with that statue, and I could feel blood trickling down the side of my face, mixing with sweat.
The migraine was still there, a vicious pounding that made it hard to think clearly.
But even through the pain, even through the fog of violence, one thing was crystal clear.
I had to move.
The sirens grew louder, and I forced myself to move, ignoring the way my vision swam with each step.
My car.
I needed my car. I needed to be gone before those red and blue lights painted the complex.
I turned and walked back toward it, my legs unsteady beneath me.
The neighbors froze when they saw me headed their way, their eyes tracking the gun still hanging at my side, and the blood on my face.
Nobody tried to stop me. Nobody said a word.
They just stared, frozen in that moment between witnessing and understanding.
My car sat exactly where I’d left it, parked haphazardly near the edge of the lot. The driver’s side door was still hanging open from when I’d rushed out, and through the haze of pain and adrenaline, I was grateful for small mercies. The keys dangled in the ignition, waiting.
I slid behind the wheel and didn’t waste a second. The engine roared to life, and I threw the car into reverse without checking my mirrors. A neighbor’s vehicle honked, but I flicked them off and kept going until I reached my apartment complex twenty minutes away.
After parking, I exited my car and climbed the steps, dragging my feet forward until I reached my door.
The key slipped from my trembling fingers twice before I forced it into the lock, my hand shaking so badly I almost dropped it again trying to turn it.
By the time the door swung open, the hallway light split into three, and the floor tilted up to meet me.
I grabbed the doorframe with both hands and stood there for a moment, just breathing.
Booda stopped pacing, his expression shifting from irritation to alarm as he took in my injuries. “Koko?”
The concern on his face hit me immediately. His eyes dropped to the blood running down the side of my face, then to the knot swelling near my temple, and all the color drained from him.
“Damn, baby,” he cursed, rushing toward me. “What the fuck happened?”
I tried to answer, but a wave of dizziness stopped me before I could get anything out.
As the room spun, the edges of my vision darkened, and I stumbled against the doorframe, struggling to keep my balance as my shoulder clipped the doorframe. I grabbed hold of it to steady myself, my head spinning as I fought to stay conscious, breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Fuck! I knew I shouldn’t have let you convince me to stay here,” he said quickly, tightening his grip around me as another wave of pain ripped through my skull.
“Ouch,” I groaned and pressed my hand harder against the side of my head while he guided me toward the couch. “My head hurts so bad.”
Booda froze for half a second before helping me sit down carefully. “Easy, baby. I got you.”
Once he was sure that I was comfortable, he took a seat beside me. “How the fuck did this happen?”
“She hit me.” I managed a weak smile, but the effort felt hollow against the throbbing pain.
Booda didn’t find a damn thing funny.
“How the hell did she get that close to you to do that?” he asked, worry written all over his face as he looked me over again.
“I don’t know.” I swallowed hard as nausea rolled through me. “But my head is killing me.”
His jaw flexed as he gently moved my hand away from the side of my face to get a better look at the injury.
“That bitch cracked you good,” he spat, anger bleeding through his tone.
I closed my eyes for a second, and the moment darkness hit, I saw Giani’s face again.
“She did, but that’s all she got to do before I killed her,” I whispered.
“Then we need to go,” Booda said after a few moments had passed.
I looked up at him weakly. “Go where?”
“Outta town. Tonight.” His tone left no room for argument. “Everyone’s dead now. Ain’t nothing left for us here except problems.”
Another pulse of pain burst behind my eyes, and I groaned softly before pressing my hand against the side of my head again.
“Can you just help me to the bed first? I need to lie down for a minute. I won’t be any good if we hit the road right now.”
Booda stared at me for a second, clearly weighing his decision. “You good to move?” he asked after a minute.
“Yeah.” I nodded even though I wasn’t sure if it was true.
“Come on then.”
He slid his arm around me carefully and helped me up from the couch. My legs felt weak as he guided me through the apartment. The pounding in my skull seemed to get worse with every step, and by the time we reached the bedroom, my stomach was turning so badly I thought I might throw up.
Booda helped me sit down on the edge of the bed before crouching in front of me again.
“You taking anything for that?” he asked, glancing toward the knot swelling near my temple.
I nodded slowly and reached for the drawer beside the bed. The bottle rattled in my hand as I shook two pills into my palm.
“We leaving as soon as you wake up,” Booda said firmly. “No arguing with me either.”
“I know,” I whispered.
I tossed the pills into my mouth and swallowed them down with water from a bottle I had left on the nightstand. As I stretched out across the mattress with a groan, the room began to blur. Darkness crept in, and just like that, everything went black.