Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
She gone forever be mine.
My phone wobbled as I moved my legs to catch the bud that was inches away from the hood of my car.
“Shit.”
“Nigga, constantly calling ain’t gone make your calls go unblocked,” Sully joked.
Beep.
I held the phone to my lips, leaving my fourth voicemail.
“I would hate to stalk you, Hyph. But, you leaving a nigga no choice but to hunt your pretty ass down. Nail you to the bed. Eat that pussy and fuck that attitude right out cha. Call me back. You have two hours before I’m on my way.
You might as well gone call the police now. I ain’t leaving ‘til you let me in.”
I ended the call, bobbing my head to the beat of the record coming from my speakers.
“Nigga, you fucked up.”
“She fucked me up. Now she has to deal with me.”
“She’s as good as gone, homie,” Sully laughed.
“Nigga, you don’t even believe that.”
“I heard she at the university, taking classes and shit.”
“Yeah. She’s on her school shit right now. I’m not above sitting outside of every fucking building until I bump into her.”
“My nigga in love.”
“That’s the one, Sully,” I claimed, “She gone be mine forever. Once I get her back, ain’t no letting go.”
“I feel ya.”
“And I’m still beating yo’ ass down that aisle. Get your pockets ready.”
I sealed the blunt between my lips.
“Nigga I’m ready.”
“I see. You been watching Saga’s granny door for the last hour. She ain’t coming out that motherfucker. She at the crib, resting up for tonight.”
“You act like you telling me something I don’t know.”
“I don’t think you do. Your eyes big and shit, chin high every time that door opens.”
“Fuck you.”
“I know the feeling, so you all good with me, homie. I waited on Hyph a hot minute before she popped back up in the hood. Best day of my life.”
September had finally rolled in and the heat was still pumping. The sun was setting. The people were crawling from their apartments to enjoy time on their porch.
“Who dat nigga over there?” Sully questioned.
He was no longer sitting in the car with the door open. He was standing, peering down into the square of Dooley Manor. I matched his gaze. A white G-Wagon was unlikely in Dooley. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
“A nigga that’s about to get popped if he doesn’t state his order of business by the time I finish my blunt.”
From behind the wheel emerged a nigga that neither of us recognized. I lit the tip of my blunt and pulled on it, watching as he made his way around the square, stopping at every other porch.
“The fuck this nigga on?” Sully asked.
He was the same height as me. Same skin tone. Dressed in a white tee and a pair of jeans, he approached my whip.
I gripped my pistol. Sully closed the door of the car, hand on his waist.
Upon further inspection, I noticed the destruction of his skin barriers. Every inch of his face was burned. So was his neck. His arms. His head. Patchy hair was left. I wasn’t sure why the barber was selling dreams and still cutting that shit on top of his head, but that was their issue, not mine.
“What’s up, Bro?” He rasped. Whatever had gotten ahold of him had distorted his voice.
Still, it was the most familiar part of his existence. Still, I couldn’t place it. A chill ran down my spine as I straightened it.
Discernment was heavy on me. It commanded my silence. I didn’t protest.
His hand lifted, attempting physical contact. I left that motherfucker in the air. Silently, I took another pull from my blunt, never taking my eyes off the nigga. He dropped his hand, realizing there wouldn’t be a warm welcome.
“They told me to talk to you.”
Silence.
“About Hyphen. Hyphen Stone. You know her?”
He struggled to speak. His words were slow to exit his body. But, the moment they did, I wanted to put him out of his misery.
Too many witnesses.
I hadn’t opened my mouth to speak, but he was asking about something that belonged to me. I’d be damned if I remained quiet. I needed answers.
“Who wants to know?”
“Sid.”
“Sid, if you don’t want that unbearable burn in your chest, I suggest you not ask about her.”
“I–”
“You won’t make it this time,” I warned.
He tossed his hands in the air. “You got it homie.”
I slid from the hood of the car as he started in the other direction.
“Fuck done got ahold of that nigga?”
“Me if he keep asking ‘bout Hyph.” I pushed out a cloud of smoke. “And he ain’t surviving the fire I got for his ass.”
“Sid. Nigga, who the fuck Momma names them Sid.”
“He’s lying,” I explained.
“Oh, I know that nigga lying.”
I watched as he climbed into the G-Wagon. Before he closed his door, he called over the only person standing within earshot.
Hot Dog mosied her way toward him, scratching her arms and twisting her mouth. She was in need of a hit and would give him any answers he was searching for if he promised to give her the bread to get one. My stomach knotted as the twenty was transferred from his hand to hers.
I lifted my pistol and applied that pressure. A warning shot flew past the buildings that surrounded us, crashing into the back window of the wagon. As I watched him duck, I adjusted my pants, pulling them up on my ass as I headed in his direction.
The rubber of his tires burned as I approached. Hot Dog was left in the dust. By the time it cleared, I stood in front of her.
“Fuck he ask you, Hot Dog?”
“Hm?”
“Fuck he ask you?”
She shrugged. Her wiggly frame was infuriating.
“I’m gone ask you one more time… Fuck he ask you? Act dumb again and I’m going to have these hoes on your head for a quick ten.”
“Don’t do that, man. I just got out of the hospital last week.”
“You going back if you don’t start talking.”
“He asked me about Hyphen.”
“And what you tell ‘em?”
“I told him where he could find her.”
“Where she lives?”
“Her street. I don’t know the address.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Cause he said he was your brother.”
Her words caught me by the throat, but I managed to shake loose.
“Nigga not no kin to me.”
I turned, waving my gun in the air.
“Felicia, come whoop this hoe,” I yelled.
“Flocco, man. You said if I talked then y–”
“You talked too fucking much, Hot Dog.”
As Felicia approached, I peeled a twenty from my wad. Fuck ten. I wanted her to put some work in.
“Make sure she has to drink out of a straw for the next six months.”
“Got it, Boss.”
Felicia took the money from my hand and used the wrapper on her wrist to tie the few pieces of hair on her head into a ponytail. By the time she finished, Hot Dog had taken off in the other direction.
Felicia prepared to hawk her ass down. I made my way to the middle of the square. I climbed onto the hood of my car, pistol still by my side.
“Public service fucking announcement,” I yelled, garnering everyone’s attention. Sully shut off the stereo.
“From this day forward, any motherfucker looking for, looking at, or thinking ‘bout Hyph is a dead man. I put that on my Pops. If they looking for her, send them my way! Any nigga. Any bitch. I’m not discriminating.
“And the next motherfucker open their mouths to tell anyone where she lays her head, prepare to lay down. Ain’t no getting back up, doe. Play a foolish game and get a bullet to your brain.”
I hopped onto the cement.
“I’m out this bitch, Sully.”
“Understood.”
I got in my whip and started the engine.
I bent one corner after the other until I was at my crib.
With a seamless entrance, I managed to get into my bedroom within seconds of pulling into my driveway.
On the edge of my bed, I pulled open the drawer that contained a core memory. The one most important to me.
The cell was dead. I dug through the drawer to find a charger but couldn’t. The next drawer didn’t have one either. Neither did the third one. I left the nightstand, heading for the kitchen.
Fuck.
I pulled the junk drawer open. Wasn’t shit in that motherfucker useful at the moment. Instead of wasting more time, I exited the house and hopped back in my ride. At the corner store, I leaped out, not bothering to open the door.
Reminders of the last day I saw Hyphen was all over the front end of my car.
It was only a matter of time before a new grill was delivered.
It would be the first piece I assembled in my new shop.
My father’s shop. I was a week away from closing.
After going back and forth in negotiations, we settled on a price that I was comfortable with.
The paperwork was getting pushed. The time was near.
“What’s up, Flocco?”
“Flocco.”
“Let me hold something.”
I left my car running and headed into the store. The first and only thing I grabbed was a charger. As quickly as I’d come, I left. Ahmad would add that shit to my tab. I wasn’t worried about the consequences of walking out.
I plugged the charger into the cigarette lighter slot and then into the phone.
Impatiently, I waited as the device I hadn’t powered on in three years had enough juice to work with.
The logo and black screen brought me a bit of satisfaction.
I entered the code I remembered by heart and was able to locate the voicemail tab.
I placed the speaker to my ear and pressed the triangle on the screen. My mother’s voice raised the hair on my arms. It had been so long since I’d heard it. Since I’d heard her. Saw her. Touched her. Kissed her cheek.
My chest tightened.
“Leodis, he’s coming back.”
“Get behind my desk, Sherry. Keep quiet.”
“Leodis– he has a g–”
“I’ll see you in hell, Po–.”
Replay.
“Leodis, he’s coming back.”
“Get behind my desk, Sherry. Keep quiet.”
“Leodis– he has a g–”
“I’ll see you in hell, Po–.”
Replay.
“Leodis, he’s coming back.”
“Get behind my desk, Sherry. Keep quiet.”
“Leodis– he has a g–”
“I’ll see you in hell, Po–.”
Replay.
“Leodis, he’s coming back.”
“Get behind my desk, Sherry. Keep quiet.”
“Leodis– he has a g–”
“I’ll see you in hell, Po–.”
I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat as Hot Dog’s words replayed in my head.
“Cause he said he was your brother.”
The wheels began turning in my head.
Same height. Same stance. Same frame. Same skintone.
My eyebrows furrowed as I bent each corner. Though baffled, there was one thing I was sure of. I’d figure the rest of that shit out later.
Hyph’s home was in my line of vision within minutes. The white G-Wagon was parked in front of her spot. I deaded my engine and hopped out, pistol in my hand.
I twisted the knob of her front door. It fell onto the porch. My heart grew heavier. With my piece pointed, I entered Hyphen’s spot.
“Zeek, pl– please.”
The slurring of Hyphen’s voice was evidence of a growing lack of consciousness.
Red.
It was all I was thinking.
Red.
It was all I was seeing.
“You a dirty bitch. You took my money, burnt my house to the ground with me in it, and then came back to this dump to fuck my brother?”
I stopped in my tracks, taken aback by his claims.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I never knew.”
“Ain’t like you would’ve cared bitch,” he coughed out.
“Your father is dead, Zeek. How coul–”
“Why the fuck you think that nigga dead, Hyphen? Hm? Nigga ain’t won’t no parts of my life, so the nigga didn’t deserve life. The weekend I met your trick ass was the same fucking weekend I ended him and that old bitch of his.”
My heart plummeted to my feet. The weight of it made it difficult to stand. Difficult to breathe. Difficult to walk. But, I pushed forward.
“Zeek, please– You can’t be serious right now.”
“Where the fuck my money? Give me my shit so I can roll!”
I turned twice, finally making it to her bedroom. On the bed, she laid with her hands covering her face. Hovering over her was an unfamiliar face with a very familiar voice.
“Aye, my nigga.”
I caught his attention. Hyphen used the opportunity to drive her nails into his eyes from behind with the little strength she had.
“Fucking bitch.”
“Move out the way, Hyph.”
She loosened her grip, bawling at the sound of my voice.
“Flocco?”
“I’m here, baby.”
“Nig–”
Fow.
I let off the first round.
Fow.
Then another.
Fow.
Then another.
Fow.
The weight of his body rested on Hyphen. She struggled to push him aside, freeing herself. I closed the distance between me and his already dead body.
Fow.
Fow.
Fow.
Fow.
I didn’t stop applying that pressure until the clip was empty.
“Tell Pops I said what’s up.”