7. Blackout
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLACKOUT
“What you see?” Moose asked, squinting over Mozzi’s shoulder at the large monitor in front of them.
The farm was about forty acres, equipped with pastures, a barn, a big country style house, and even a small pond about a mile or two past the main house.
The property was old and belonged to Desiree, so it’d been in the family for a long time.
There was a big bunker built underneath, and inside the tool shed was a hidden room where Mozzi typically was able to gather all his intel.
Of course, he worked remotely with a laptop all the time, but sometimes when he wanted to see the bigger picture, he’d come here for clarity.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, eyes narrowing as he focused on the scene ahead.
It was a live CCTV feed from the clinic’s network that he was able to tap into and view.
Although shit happened fast, he paused the camera at damn near every angle to see if he recognized anything.
The moment the car rolled up, he went for his gun.
A big arm extended from the window with a chrome pistol that reflected off the sun.
There was a tattoo on his hand, but Mozzi couldn’t make it out at first. Zooming in, he ran the footage back then slowed it down to focus on the hand when it appeared.
His mind immediately flickered and went back to the night at Moose’s tattoo shop.
Fire and that damn sucker he kept popping in and out of his mouth with that tattoo on his hand.
“Mothafucka.”
“What?” Moose leaned in closer.
“That’s a skull and bone tattoo.”
“That’s a Donahue stamp,” Moose acknowledged.
“Fucking Fire,” Mozzi announced, eyes going cold as he eased back in his chair.
Moose leaned against the desk and sparked the blunt he’d just rolled. Taking a deep pull, he shook his head and peered down at his brother deep in thought while tapping on his upper lip.
“His baby mama work over at that new condo development, right? Ain’t she like a property manager or something?”
“Yeah,” Moose answered with smoke in his mouth.
When Mozzi pushed away from the desk, he knocked his chair over.
He was tired of niggas testing him. Walking over to the small bar setup, he slipped behind the counter where two stools were lined up.
He picked up an empty whiskey glass, snatched up a bottle of the Marek Reserve, and poured himself a double.
Moose strolled over to join him, positioning himself on one of the stools.
Mozzi tossed back his drink and let the liquor burn and coat his throat for a moment before pouring another.
“What you thinking?”
“I need to know where that nigga at right now.” Mozzi tapped two fingers against the counter. “This shit is over today.”
“What about when Donahue claps back?” Moose posed.
“We gotta be ready for that. We already on his radar for that shit Kong pulled.”
Mozzi finished his drink and ambled back to his workstation.
He tapped at the keys with effortless strokes, pulling up Yellow Park Condos and their address.
It was nothing to bypass all their little security walls to get to their personnel files.
He scrolled, unsure of Fire’s baby mama’s name, but figuring he would know it when he saw it.
“Trenae Edwards,” he finally recited, taking a photographic snapshot of her address.
He knew where she lived, and that was cool, but it wasn’t a guarantee that Fire fucked with her like that.
So, the next option was her social media page.
Shorty was a fine little chocolate thing with slanted, tight eyes almost like she had some kind of Asian descent on top of being black.
The son they shared looked just like her ass, like Fire didn’t put in on the genetics at all.
Mozzi scrolled until he came across her pinning her location at the mall today, not even twenty minutes ago.
Her caption is what made him smile. Out here being spoiled by MY baby daddy!
(silly face emoji). He assumed her capitalizing the word my meant she was sending a subliminal to somebody, more than likely another thirsty ass bitch.
Mozzi moved over to the corner closet, using the pin pad beside it to tap in his entrance code.
A bright blue light illuminated the space once the door slid open.
Every size gun one would need to extract were arranged on the wall on different hooks.
Below were rows of drawers filled with ammunition.
Mozzi went for his rifle with a scope and picked up a box of bullets to match.
“What you need me to do?” Moose checked with him.
“I got this.”
“You sure?”
“Light work, and overdue.” Mozzi voiced.
“Aye… make that shit count.” Moose patted him on the shoulder on his way out the door.
Mozzi loaded the rifle once he was gone and brought it to a firing position.
He checked through the scope to make sure it didn’t need an adjustment.
Satisfied with the setup, he grabbed an empty duffel and slipped the gun and bullets inside.
He’d always been known in the streets as playful and comedic, but there was a darker side to Mozzi that most people chose to avoid altogether.
The world had hardened him and his brothers a long time ago.
Jane dying hit them hard, leaving them wondering if it was karma for the things they’d done.
The summer sun set in the distance, leaving remnants of the orange hued sunlight streaming across the horizon at Ree Heights outlet mall.
Only thirty minutes after he discovered where Fire was, Mozzi parked his bucket and took a moment.
He made sure to position it a block over from the mall in the blind spot from any surveillance on that street, even though he’d already programmed the system to glitch during a specific window.
Taking a back alley, he ended up on the roof across the street from the mall with a perfect angle of the front doors.
He checked Trenae’s Facebook page from a dummy account he used and scrolled through not only her posts, but her story where she was posting away.
Fire was in the background with their son in a lot of the photos.
The nigga was trying to hide or keep his head down, never looking directly into her camera while she smiled like a dummy for their audience.
Judging from their background, he peeped that they were in the GAP store.
Mozzi studied his laptop screen. He already knew where every camera was positioned thanks to a lick or two from back in the day.
Fire emerged from the GAP store, head down in his phone with his baby mama and son talking his ear off on either side of him.
He typed something on his screen and picked his head up to peep the scene.
“I swear, you pay more attention to that phone than you do anything,” Mozzi heard Trenae complain on the feed he watched.
“Daddy, can I have some ice cream?” his son asked.
“No,” his mama snapped. “It’s going to ruin your dinner. Do you still plan on taking us out to eat, or let me guess, something came up,” she surmised, angrily sarcastic.
“All that nagging ain’t making a nigga want to be around you, Trenae. Why the fuck you can’t just shut up and be cool?” Fire sucked his teeth as they strolled toward the nearest exit.
Lining Fire up in his scope, Mozzi took a breath and squeezed the trigger.
The last sound he heard before straightening up was Trenae’s high-pitched scream erupting when the bullet struck Fire’s skull less than a foot from where their son stood.
His body hit the ground, and Trenae dropped the bags in her hands and fell at his side.
“I just want you to know that I heard y’all.” Inari stood beside Ayla’s bed where she was still turned on her side, bonnet around her head, curled up to her fluffy ass pillows.
Rich people had the good shit when it came to basics. She’d never slept as good as she did in that Queen bed. The sheets were at least a thousand thread count, and not everyone could appreciate that or a pillow made with real feathers.
“What time is it?” Ayla rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Almost eight.” Inari told her, reaching for her cell phone on the bedside table and tapping the screen to view her notifications.
“Shit!” Ayla shot up, throwing the covers off her legs and swinging them over the edge of the bed. “I have to get breakfast in the oven!”
“Girl, calm down. Audiemar already stopped in to check on me. For a grumpy looking ass man, he seems cool. That must be where Kong gets it from,” Inari muttered. “I think you need to leave here and stay away from him, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Ayla’s face scrunched up in disapproval.
“I’m talking about you fucking this man in your room, Ayla. In his home, where you work!” Inari called her out. “You can’t be doing this. Not to mention the fact that you are obviously falling for him, despite knowing it’s not good for you.”
“I’m fine,” Ayla lied, shaking her head and padding toward her bathroom a few steps away.
“Yeah, live in denial, baby sis, that’s not good for you.” Inari scoffed and shook her head. “I’m telling you now, this ain’t gon’ end well for you.”
“I really don’t need this right now, Inari.” Ayla paused in the bathroom doorway.
“No, I think you do need a reality check before you sink even deeper into this. Kong has a lot going on. I’m not even saying he’s a bad man, but he’s not the right one. Not for you, and not for right now.”
“And how can you even say something like that? You think because you’re the oldest—”
“You’re damn right I do.” Inari’s brows pinched together in a frown. “Either work here and keep your legs closed or find another damn job.”
“Weren’t you leaving?” Rolling her eyes, she stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
“You know I’m right!” Inari yelled at the door. “But I am leaving!”