Heart Held Hostage By a Hitta

Prologue

“God is the greatest, but Satan been on his shit… walkin’ the pavement, I pray I’m illuminated…”

The apartment building was currently under construction.

The sun had long since gone down, and the only people on this side of town were a few homeless and stragglers that minded their fucking business.

The eighteenth floor was completely gutted.

Sawdust and concrete ashes were everywhere, and a few warning cones and signs had been set up to make the workers aware.

You could smell the dust in the air. It was dark, but the amber glow from the streetlights accompanied the shadows bouncing around the concrete columns.

With my arms behind my back, I stood with my chin up, listening to the different sounds in the distance: sirens, arguing around the corner from some drunk couple, and cars still cruising along the pothole-filled streets.

Voices headed in my direction, and I listened attentively.

Standing like a concrete statue, my bright eyes bounced off the moon shining in the night sky above.

The contrast was eerie from what I had been told.

My eyes were like the storm, and the sky was the calm.

I stood before many men and had to end them, rip their lives from them just as quick as a gunshot.

The metal chair in the middle of the floor scuffed against the concrete, and I listened as my man shoved my summoned party into his seat.

“Sit yo’ bitch ass down!” Ledge shot a look so cold toward him that he didn’t dare move.

Knowledge Williams was a man that carried malice everywhere he went.

Nobody in his life gave a fuck about him, and in turn, he learned how to handle mothafuckas accordingly.

We became friends on some street shit many moons ago.

Most people thought that we were brothers since we spent so much time together.

Spinning around, I took even strides over to them.

Ledge backed off but kept his pistol at his side.

I guess I should introduce myself. My parents named me Frequency and put that shit on my birth certificate.

I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with them, and everyone thought the shit suited me.

“Arnold Goines.” My strong, bass-filled tone startled the man.

He hadn’t even seen me. I dressed in all black down to the steel-toe boots on my feet.

A black skull cap rested on my head because it was a slight chill in the air, even though it was March.

Spring was near, but it still had that winter nip floating around us.

I ran my hand down my beard, which wasn’t thick, but neat with a deep shadow that covered my face from my sideburns to the connecting goatee.

When the older gentleman’s eyes landed on me, he just about went into cardiac arrest right there.

He didn’t know me, but the cold glare in my eyes told him to fear me.

“W-What’s this about?” His voice quaked while his eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness surrounding us.

Ledge sparked a cigarette and backed off. Arnold was no threat. He was just a fucking bully and got off on flexing his power. I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed both eyes to the ground while I collected my thoughts.

“I have a few questions. Depending on how you answer them will determine if you get to walk or fly out of here tonight,” I declared, confusing Arnold.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, you don’t.” I nodded and began circling him in the chair, making the old man nervous as shit. “But you will… in time. What do you know about the case for Ivana Samuels?”

Arnold stared off, muttering to himself fearfully as he repeated the name over and over. His arms and legs were shaking, and he shook his head back and forth. He was trying to remember, and it was out of sheer desperation, so it seemed to frustrate him. Finally, a light bulb seemed to go off.

“That case was sealed. There’s too much tape around it for someone average to access it. It’s above my paygrade.”

“And I want to know why. Why was the file sealed? How come her family can’t read it?” I questioned, losing patience.

“I can’t tell you that,” Arnold answered, and Ledge came up behind him with the barrel of his Desert Eagle to his temple. “Wait! But I can give you the name of the man that can.”

A couple of hours later, I was riding shotgun, hand to chin, as Ledge parked a couple of houses from the address we were given.

Arnold ended up taking a leap off the roof and splattering to his death right after.

Luckily, it was a shell property so nothing could be traced back to us.

If they had any questions, they would take it up with the property owner.

I had it laced to where everyone that worked for me was protected.

All they had to do was play the game. Ledge took a long pull from the large blunt between his fingers.

I didn’t smoke a lot. I kept the shit on deck in case I needed a release, but it wasn’t a vice.

I didn’t go crazy if I wasn’t smoking weed.

I actually drank more than I ever hit the gas, but I had access to the finest shit.

My boy on the other hand could go through a pound on some solo shit.

We sat back for a few minutes outside the location, and not even five minutes later, something was moving. A BMW wheeled into the driveway and parked. We watched as two young girls hopped out and popped the trunk. Laughing and chatting it up with one another, they unloaded luggage.

“Damn. Shorties kind of bad.” Ledge adjusted himself in his seat and kept his dark retinas fixed on the young women.

Suddenly, a deep baritone voice filled the air, and both girls looked up.

“Is that him?” Ledge queried as on older man in some Bill Cosby sweater and slacks joined them at the car.

He wore thin-framed glasses and had a perfectly lined fade.

I couldn’t stop analyzing him because he just didn’t seem to fit the bill of what I had envisioned.

He smiled at the girls, and they hugged him tightly.

The first one appeared older, and she kept running her mouth while her sister unloaded the bags.

“That’s him. Harold Lawson,” Frequency confirmed, watching the man interact with the two girls.

A fluttering of nerves in the pit of my stomach unsettled me as I zoned in on the one that appeared to be a little standoffish.

Harold said something to the older girl and escorted her into the house.

His younger daughter seemed annoyed. She huffed and puffed as she dug all of the bags out of the car and shook her head as she carried them up to the house by herself.

Something was definitely dysfunctional around there.

From the outside looking in, they seemed like a normal family.

But I knew for a fact that nothing was ever as it fucking seemed.

“Find out everything you can about him and his family,” I ordered, tunnel vision ahead of me.

If he was the key to solving the mystery that had been eating at me the last six years, maybe a nigga would finally be able to put some shit in the rearview and actually try to have a future that wasn’t fixated on a bunch of questions.