Chapter Seven. Eshe
CHAPTER SEVEN
Eshe
The brackish scent of Massachusetts Bay weighs heavy on the night air. The waters of the port gleam under the moonlight like onyx. The distant din of traffic can’t drown out the gentle lap of the waves.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I’m ready to hear the whisper of my Remington M24 and the muffled thud as the bullet meets its target.
I’m ready to hear screams.
It’s been a slow few days.
I survey the area, taking note of a large shipping crate that a couple of workers moved to the end of the dock about ten minutes earlier.
They’re oblivious to the danger that lies in wait above them.
Since yesterday and the meeting at my house, we’ve mapped out the area and are intimately familiar with it.
I let my Seven in on the truth about their necklaces, and now we’re using them to our advantage.
If Abena decides to check their locations, she’ll find my girls at Elysian and riding around downtown Boston.
In reality, Nef, Doc, Kenya, and Sienna and I are stretched out on top of other containers, our rifles at the ready.
Tera, Penn, and Maura take point on the ground.
We’re spread out, but I can still feel, fucking taste, the excitement and anticipation in the air.
Not only are we snatching bitch-ass traffickers’ souls and saving women and children from certain hell, but we’re gathering proof that Abena is involved in committing one of the family’s cardinal sins.
We have a plan in place to take out Abena. But if all goes well this evening, that timeline will be pushed up.
And it’ll be the end of a nine-year sentence.
“A’ight, y’all. A black Hummer is pulling up now,” Kenya’s low voice announces through my earpiece. “Look alive, sweet peas.”
I suppress a snicker.
“We have four targets—I mean, men—heading toward the pier,” Kenya says. “Not Mwuaji. Doc, they’re headed in your direction.”
“Got ’em,” Tyeesha says, voice calm, steady.
As the men walk into view, I press my eye to the scope, getting the one on the far right in my crosshairs.
“Still no sign of Abena?” I murmur.
“No. It’s all clear over this way,” Kenya says.
“It’s five after eleven.” I frown. “Abena should’ve been here.”
I raise my head, reasons why she hasn’t arrived yet flying through my mind. This is her meet. She should’ve been here before her clients. Something—
“Abort mission,” I hiss, and start breaking down my rifle with practiced, quick motions. “Get out of here. Now.”
Radio silence meets my order. No one questions it.
The fact I know where each of my Seven is situated is the only reason I catch glimpses of their hurried movements.
I pack my M24 and scurry down the side of the container.
As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I take off toward our meeting point, sticking to the shadows.
I run flat out for half a mile, and only when the black Ranger comes into view do I slow down.
Grabbing the driver’s door, I fling it open and throw myself behind the wheel.
After reaching under the seat, I snatch the keys and jam them in the ignition.
Only seconds pass before the passenger and rear doors are jerked open, and Nef, Sienna, and Maura jump inside.
I don’t even wait until their doors close before I slam on the gas and haul ass out of there, trusting the rest of my Seven have made it to their ride and aren’t far behind me.
“The fuck happened back there?” Nef asks as I turn onto Drydock Ave.
“Call Tera,” I rasp out. “Make sure they got out of there safe and then put her on speaker.”
Moments later, Tera’s voice echoes in the Rover’s interior.
“Yeah,” she says. “We’re good here. Not far behind you. What happened? Why did you call it?”
“We weren’t alone out there,” I let them all know.
Falling quiet, I clench my teeth, jaw throbbing.
“I saw movement right under where Doc was posted up. Whoever it was hadn’t been facing the water where the meet was supposed to go down.
That tells me they weren’t there for that.
Everything in me is saying they were there for us.
They knew we would be there and were waiting for us to make a move so they could take us out. ”
“How many?” Nef asks, voice flat. Deadly.
“I only saw the one, but that just means the rest of that team was well hidden. And there had to be a team. One person couldn’t eliminate all of us.”
Silence permeates the inside of the Rover, and not a peep comes from over the phone. Someone had to betray us. Not one of my Seven. I trust them with my life, and their loyalty to me is unquestionable and unwavering. So who?
The other person in this equation is Laura, but hell, she’s the one who put us on. Still … Something about her hadn’t stopped gnawing at me. A familiarity. A sense of … unease about the whole situation. But damn, she had the recording. And her story was credible. About her niece, her family …
Family.
“Holy shit,” I snap.
“What?” Nef and Tera demand at the same time.
“That Laura chick. She was wearing a wedding band and ring.”
“Yeah. And?” Penn presses.
“Abena was wearing the same ring yesterday. Minus the band.” I chuckle but ain’t shit funny.
“She played us. She fucking played us.” I slap my hand against the steering wheel, ignoring the sting in my palm.
Laughing again, I shake my head, instantly realizing why “Laura” struck me as familiar.
I was related to her. “I gotta give it to the bitch. She’s good.
The getup, the story. She deserves an Academy fucking Award. ”
“Are you sure?” Tera asks.
“Yeah, one hundred percent sure.”
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Sienna asks.
“Abena got to Dakari. He helped her set us up. Fuck!” I glance in the rearview mirror in time to see her pound the side of her fist against the window.
“How long? How long has he been in her pocket and potentially feeding her information about us?”
Quiet once again descends between us.
“I don’t know.” I tighten my grip on the steering wheel until my fingers start to tingle. “But I’ma find out.”
I approach Elysian, the warehouse where we host the underground fights. At least that’s what we use it for on those particular nights. Right now, at one o’clock in the afternoon, we got different business to be about.
The steel door slams shut behind me, the sound echoing in the vast space.
In just a few hours, this place will be filled with people screaming and shouting, eager to be entertained by blood, gore, and death.
I mean, who am I kidding? It is a good time.
But at this moment, the ring is empty, the concrete floors are bare of chairs.
Well …
There’s one chair.
And Dakari is tied to it.
Like a bloody, fucked-up Christmas gift.
And I loooves me some Christmas.
“Hey, Dakari.” I clasp my hands behind my back and smile at him. “So glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, he was a little hesitant at first. But after I convinced him that we really, really needed to see him, he came along.” Penn claps a hand on Dakari’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right, Dakari?”
He doesn’t answer, but I don’t miss the small, muted whimper.
“Aw.” I poke out my bottom lip. “Penn, I think our boy here is a little uncomfortable. Are you, D?” He remains quiet, but his hazel eyes swim with horror.
Mmm. I could orgasm off all that delicious fear.
“I’d hate for you to be experiencing any kind of discomfort.
Ooh.” I wince. “You got a little blood”—I circle my finger in front of his battered, bruised face—“well, everywhere.”
“Eshe, please. I—” he croaks.
But I place my finger flat against his busted and swollen lips.
“Shhh. Don’t spoil the moment.” I reach behind me and grab my gun, then tap it against my thigh.
“Eshe, I swear—”
I swing, smashing my Glock into his mouth. The chair—and Dakari—fly backward. His head bounces off the concrete, and I wince. That’s going to be one helluva headache.
Well, y’know, if he would be alive in the next five minutes.
Which, spoiler alert, he will not.
“I said shut the fuck up. Damn!” I glare at him. “Why muthafuckas gotta be so hardheaded?”
Spreading my arms wide, I glance around and am met with a chorus of “I don’t know,” and “muthafuckas just don’t learn,” and “just no home training.” Shaking my head, I wait for Nef to pick Dakari up. Blood oozes from his already-fucked-up mouth and drips onto his chin and ripped, dirty T-shirt.
“Now, before I was interrupted…” I crouch in front of him and, tipping my head back, meet his eyes.
Correction, eye. One of ’em is swollen shut.
“It hurts me to see you here like this, D. Not more than it hurts you, but gotta say, the betrayal cuts deep.” I splay my fingers wide over my chest. His busted lips part, and I narrow my eyes on him.
“If you open your bitch-ass mouth to lie to me, I’m going to hit you in it again. But this time with a bullet.”
He wisely decides to not speak. A shame.
“Good choice.” I praise him, patting his knee. “Now, what information did you pass on to Abena? How much does she know about us?” When he doesn’t immediately start talking, I chuckle and pat him again. “My bad, bruh. You can speak.”
“I—I didn’t tell her anything,” he says, garbled voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t know that much to tell her other than you recruiting me to be a pair of eyes and ears in the obodo. And I didn’t say anything about that. I swear, I didn’t betray you.”
“Mmm, that’s debatable.” I seesaw my hand back and forth. “Then why you? How did you end up arranging the meeting for Abena? Did she just pick you out all eenie-meenie-miney-moe and shit?”
He starts to shake his head, but his face spasms in pain, stopping the motion. “No. Abena didn’t explain why she approached me other than to say I’m not as careful as I thought.” He coughs, and more blood stains his mouth and chin.
Probably some internal damage there.
“So what did she promise you?” Tera asks, coming closer until the tips of her boots nudge the chair leg.
“Good question,” I cosign. “What did Abena promise that was so good, you sold us out?”
“I didn—”
I raise my gun and point it at his chest. “Lie again with your Benedict Arnold ass. You didn’t know if I was walking into an ambush or would walk out of there alive. So miss me with that ‘I didn’t, blah, blah, blah’ bullshit. Just answer the question.”
He bows his head, and his chest heaves as if he’s choking back a sob. He better hold that shit in. There’s no crying in torture.
“Abena threatened to have my mom and li’l sister killed.” He lifts his head, and his hazel eyes glisten with unshed tears. “They’re all I got, man. I’m responsible for them. I couldn’t let her…” He chokes up again and sucks in a shuddering breath. “You gotta understand that.”
I slowly rise to my feet, staring down at him. Anger kindles in my chest, and it’s a spark away from flashing into a full-on forest fire.
“I don’t have to understand shit, D. Only a bitch-made muthafucka would betray those he’s supposed to be loyal to.
All you had to do was come to me, to one of us, and tell us what Abena was holding over your head.
You’re family. Your mom and sister—they’re family.
Do you really think I would’ve let you or them suffer?
Why would you want me for your oba if that’s what you believed of me?
Nah. I don’t understand shit.” I take a step back from him. “See you in the upper room, ho.”
Before he can blink, I lift my arm again and fire a bullet between his eyes. The smell of smoke, sulfur, blood, and shit saturate the air.
“Gotdamn, I hate that part.” Sienna wrinkles her nose. “Death ain’t dignified, sis.”
“Whose turn is it to clean up?” Kenya asks, propping her fists on her rounded hips. “Not mine.”
“I did it last time.” Penn holds up her hands, palms out.
“And I did it the time before,” I throw in.
“That doesn’t count,” Tera snaps. “Only one way for this to be fair. Paper, scissors, rock. C’mon, bitches.”
With a groan, we huddle up in a circle, fists out.
“One, two, three.” We draw our arms back and throw our hands forward.
Seven rounds later, Doc tosses her head back on her shoulders.
“Fuuuuck.”
Cackling, we leave her to it. I push open the door, then step outside and squint against the early-afternoon sun. I inhale a deep breath, one that doesn’t stink of death. Or betrayal. That last one hurts my nose more.
“Where you headed now?” Nef asks me, pulling her car keys from the front pocket of her black jeans.
“Home.” Actually, I plan on heading over to Malachi’s loft and doing a little B and E. It’s been a minute since I rolled around in his sheets. God, that man smells like soap, pain, and bad decisions. Just intoxicating.
Nef nods and heads toward her car. “I’m about to go to the crib and go through the camera footage of the obodo from the past couple of days. See if there’s anything of importance that we need—shit!”
She dives for the ground at the gunshot. A bullet strikes the gravel, kicking up pebbles and dust. On reflex, I drop and scurry for the back of Sienna’s GTO just as another bullet pings off the rear panel. She’s going to be pissed about that.
“The fuck?” Fierce anger at whoever would have balls enough to come for me and mine burns through me.
I grab my gun and, sliding the safety off, peek above the trunk and then fire off several rounds in the direction of the shots.
They’re coming from the vicinity of the thick trees off the left of the property.
“Call out!” I glance to my right and glimpse Nef, face a stone-cold mask, shooting her SIG toward our would-be assassin.
Crimson stains her white shirt on the upper arm. “Call out, dammit!”
This time, a chorus of their names ring out. Relief floods me even as I continue pulling the trigger. All of them are safe. I don’t know how I could handle losing one more person …
The gunfire from the trees stops, and the resulting silence is tense, thick. Cautiously, I shift from behind the GTO, still not certain it’s entirely safe.
“Nef,” I call to her, “you good?”
She nods, lowering her weapon and glancing down at her arm. “Yeah. It’s just a graze. I’m good.”
“Eshe!” Tera yells at me.
“Yeah?”
“Who the fuck did you piss off now?”
Isn’t that a good question?