Chapter 13 The Choice
“The streets never forget your name… even after you’ve forgotten theirs.” The rain had finally stopped.
Water dripped from the awning outside Second Chance Barber Lounge, each drop splashing against the sidewalk like the ticking of a clock. Inside, Ronald swept the last pile of hair into a dustpan. It was almost peaceful.
Almost.
Six months.
Six months without selling drugs.
Six months without waking up next to strangers whose names he’d never remember. Six months without looking over his shoulder every time a police cruiser drove past. For the first time since he was a teenager… Ronald Davis slept through the night.
The nightmares hadn’t disappeared.
But they had gotten quieter.
He locked the shop, turned the sign to CLOSED, and smiled to himself. “You finally did it, Squirrel.”
His phone vibrated.
Charmaine.
He answered before the first ring finished. “Hey.”
Her voice carried the warmth he’d missed for years. “I was wondering if you’re still coming to dinner.” Ronald laughed.
“You actually invited me.”
“I figured I’d give the new Ronald a chance.” “I’ll be there.”
“And Ronald…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you.”
The words hit harder than bullets ever could. “I’ll see you soon.”
The call ended.
Ronald stood there smiling like a fool. For years he chased validation from women who never cared. Now four simple words from one woman meant more than every dollar he’d ever stacked. He climbed into his truck.
Tonight…
Life finally felt normal.
?
Across town…
A black Escalade rolled through the darkness. Tinted windows.
No license plate.
Inside…
Three men sat silently.
One of them held a faded photograph.
Ronald.
Nate.
Standing beside a white Mercedes nearly four years earlier. The man in the passenger seat smiled.
“So that’s him.”
Another nodded.
“He disappeared.”
“No…”
the passenger whispered.
“He thought he disappeared.”
?
Ronald arrived at Charmaine’s townhouse carrying flowers and a bottle of sparkling cider. No expensive jewelry.
No designer bags.
No fake promises.
Just flowers.
She opened the door wearing a soft cream-colored sweater. For a moment…
Neither of them spoke.
Then she smiled.
“I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I barely recognize myself.”
She laughed.
“There you are.”
Dinner was simple.
Homemade pasta.
Music playing softly.
Candles.
No distractions.
No lies.
Just two people learning how to speak to each other again. Halfway through dinner, Charmaine reached across the table. “I’m scared.”
Ronald looked up.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve fallen in love with this version of you.” He swallowed hard.
“And?”
“I’m afraid the streets won’t let me keep him.” Ronald reached for her hand.
“They don’t own me anymore.”
She wanted to believe him.
So did he.
?
11:43 PM.
Someone knocked on the front door.
Three slow knocks.
Ronald frowned.
“You expecting somebody?”
Charmaine shook her head.
“No.”
Another knock.
Louder.
Ronald walked toward the door.
He looked through the peephole.
Nobody.
He opened it.
Nothing.
Just a small black envelope resting on the welcome mat. He picked it up.
Inside…
One photograph.
Nate.
The day he died.
Written across the back in black marker… YOU LEFT THE GAME.
THE GAME DIDN’T LEAVE YOU.
A second line.
WE KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES.
Ronald’s blood turned to ice.
Charmaine stepped behind him.
“What is it?”
He quickly folded the paper.
“Nothing.”
She knew he was lying.
?
Across the street…
Inside the parked Escalade…
A man watched through binoculars.
“He’s got the envelope.”
Another man smiled.
“Good.”
“What now?”
The passenger leaned back.
Now dressed in an expensive tailored suit, his face finally became visible beneath the dashboard lights. Older.
Calmer.
Far more dangerous than Trey had ever been. He picked up his phone.
“Tell Baltimore…”
he said quietly,
“…the Human Squirrel is alive.”
The call ended.
The SUV pulled away.
?
Three days later…
Ronald couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following him. The same black SUV.
The same unknown numbers calling his phone. The same silence whenever he answered.
His therapist noticed.
Charmaine noticed.
Even Marcus noticed.
“They watching you, ain’t they?”
Ronald didn’t answer.
Because he already knew.
?
That Friday…
Ronald opened the barber shop early.
The first customer never arrived.
Instead…
A little boy walked inside.
Maybe ten years old.
Skinny.
Nervous.
He held out a folded piece of paper.
“Mister Ronald?”
“Yeah?”
“My uncle told me to give you this.” The boy ran away.
Ronald unfolded it.
One sentence.
One address.
One time.
COME ALONE.
At the bottom…
A symbol he hadn’t seen since the biggest deal Nate ever made. A squirrel.
Drawn in black ink.
But this one…
Had red eyes.
Ronald looked toward the front window.
Across the street…
The black Escalade was parked again.
Waiting.
Watching.
Patient.
Ronald slowly folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. He looked up toward the sky.
Closed his eyes.
Then whispered to himself…
“I guess the past finally caught up.” He locked the barber shop.
Walked toward his truck.
And drove toward the address…
Alone.
?
To Be Continued…