Eviction Notice, page 34
Lakim rushed to King James’s side, gun in hand and ready to claim his pint of blood. Alonzo was hot on his heels. “How bad is it, God?” Lakim asked.
“Nigga caught me in the shoulder.” King grunted as Lakim and Alonzo helped him to his feet. “How’s Dump?”
“He’s hit up pretty bad, but still alive. I tried to move him, but he’s too heavy,” Alonzo said.
“I seen the shooter, it was that nigga Holiday. Word is bond, I’m laying all them Clark niggaz down,” Lakim said angrily.
“We won’t be laying shit down if we’re all locked up. Let’s get up outta here before the police come,” King told them.
“What about Dump?” Alonzo asked.
“We gotta leave him. I’ll get my lawyer on the case as soon as we’re clear of here,” King said. He hobbled over to Ashanti and placed his hand on his shoulder. “You did good kid, real good. I ain’t gonna forget this.”
“Thank me later. Let’s just get you outta here, big homie.”
A bloodcurdling scream caused Ashanti to jump, gun raised and ready to start shooting again. He looked for the source the scream and saw Tionna leaning over Gucci’s prone body. The front of her green dress was soaked with blood. “No.” Tears sprang to Ashanti’s eyes. He tried to go to her, but King stopped him.
“What are you, fucking crazy? You’re standing in the middle of a massacre with a murder weapon in your hand,” King reminded him.
“I gotta go to her,” Ashanti said, sobbing.
Lakim grabbed Ashanti by the front of his shirt and shook him. “She’s gone, Ashanti, there’s nothing you can do for her now. You wanna make this right, we get back at the niggaz who did it.”
“He’s fucking dead, him and his whole family,” Ashanti vowed.
“Don’t worry, my nigga, you’ll get your chance to make good on that promise. You have my word on that,” King told him.
Lakim and Alonzo helped King to the door. Ashanti hung behind for a few seconds more, watching Tionna break down over the body of her friend. He felt so weak and helpless at that moment that it made him physically ill. At that moment he swore on the life of his friend Animal that no matter how long it took he would track down and kill both Shai and Holiday for what they had caused, or die trying.
CHAPTER 47
It was well into the next afternoon when the police finally released Sahara. They had questioned her through the night and most of the morning about the shooting, but she had stuck to her story: “I don’t know what happened.” Several witnesses had claimed to see her enter the club with one of the shooters, but without more than hearsay they couldn’t prove it, so they’d had to turn her loose.
The shooting at the club had her terrified. One minute they were drinking and having a good time and the next she was covered in blood. That was the closest she had ever come to dying and it made her start to take a long, hard look at the company she kept and the lifestyle she was living. With all that had been going on, she hadn’t had a chance even to start working on getting up her end of the rent money, but at that point she didn’t care. She was just glad to be alive.
As the taxi was pulling up in front of the projects, she spotted Porsha stepping out of another cab. Sahara jumped out of her cab and caught up with her roommate, anxious to hear of her night with Don B. and if she had come any closer to getting the rent money, but the questions died in her throat when she got a good look at Porsha. She looked disheveled and tired, and her eyes were swollen like she had been crying.
“Are you okay?” Sahara asked her.
“I don’t even wanna talk about it,” Porsha said, fighting off the urge to start crying again as she had been for the last few hours.
“Did that muthafucka Don B. do something to you?” Sahara pressed.
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Porsha snapped.
“Damn, you ain’t gotta bite my head off. I was just trying to make sure you were good,” Sahara said in a hurt tone.
“I’m sorry, I just had a fucked-up night.” Porsha sighed. When she had woken up that afternoon in the bed between Tone and Don B. with no recollection of how it had happened, she’d flipped out. She had pressed Don B. about what had happened and all he’d done was laugh, saying that he didn’t know she liked to walk on the wild side. Porsha tried to tear his eyes out and would’ve succeeded had it not been for security restraining her. Don B. had them throw Porsha out on her ass without offering her so much as cab fare to get home. If she hadn’t been smart enough to bring her own money she would’ve been stranded out in Brooklyn. The whole ride back to Manhattan, all Porsha could do was think of Frankie and her warning about the notorious Don B. When she got into the house she was going to tell her that she had been right, but not before she took at least an hour-long shower to wash the stink of Tone and Don B. off her.
“Your night couldn’t have been any worse than mine.”
“Really, what happened, Sahara?”
“Everything.” Sahara went on to tell her of the shooting at the club and the girl in the green dress who had lost her life.
“That poor girl.” Porsha shed a tear.
“I know, and I just kept thinking how that could’ve been me to catch a bullet meant for King,” Sahara reflected. “I think I’m good on thugs for a while.”
“You and me both, ma.”
The girls walked to the building, talking between themselves, both tired and in need of a good shower. They couldn’t help but notice that people were staring at them strangely. It wasn’t until they saw Levi that they would find out the reason for the strange looks.
“Y’all okay?” Levi asked in a sincere tone, which was unusual for him.
“Yeah, we’re good, but what the fuck is everybody staring at?” Porsha asked.
Levi gave them a surprised look. “You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Frankie, she’s in the hospital.”
“In the hospital, why, what happened?” Sahara was becoming frantic.
“The nigga Scar and two of his homies tried to run up in your crib and tried to rob it,” Levi said, shocking the girls. “Frankie tried to fight them off but they beat her up pretty bad.”
“That muthafucka Scar, I’m gonna kill him,” Sahara said, fuming.
“Too late, Frankie beat you to the punch. One of the neighbors called the police because of all the noise and they found Spoon bleeding like a stuck pig and Scar dead on your living room floor. Apparently Frankie put one in his monkey ass. I can’t say that I’m sorry he’s gone either.”
Porsha’s head was spinning as she tried to process what Levi was telling her. “That doesn’t make sense. Scar is a dirt bag, but why would he try and rob us and we ain’t got shit?”
Levi looked at the confused faces of Porsha and Sahara and shook his head. “For y’all to live under the same roof y’all sure don’t know much about each other. For the last few days Frankie has been out here moving more cracks than a road worker.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Frankie is a thief, not a drug dealer,” Sahara said.
“Man, for the past few days every crackhead in the hood been buzzing about them boulders she been out here serving. If you don’t believe me, ask the police. In addition to them bodies they found quite a bit of drug paraphernalia in your crib.”
Porsha shook her head in disbelief. “This shit don’t make no sense, we gotta get to the bottom of it. What hospital did they take Frankie to?”
“I don’t know, but my guess would be St. Luke’s. If I were you I’d hurry up, because the way I hear it they’ll be carting her ass outta there to go to court come Monday morning.”
“Court, what the hell for?” Sahara asked.
“Murder.”
* * *
When Frankie finally came to, she felt like she had just gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. Her head was throbbing and she couldn’t see out of one eye, but she was thankful to be alive. From the sterile smell and bright lights she knew she was in a hospital, which one she didn’t know and didn’t care, she was just glad to be alive. When she tried to sit up, pain racked her ribs. She tried to move her hand to assess the damage, but to her surprise her right arm was handcuffed to the bedpost.
“What the fuck?” Frankie yanked at the shackle but it wouldn’t give. “Is anybody out there? What’s going on?”
A doctor came into the room, accompanied by a man in a wrinkled brown suit. He had cop written all over him. From the look on the doctor’s face, Frankie already knew she wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel like shit on a stick, thanks for asking,” Frankie said. “Can somebody please tell me why I’m chained to this bed?”
“I think the detective will be better suited to answer that question.” The doctor stepped aside and the detective approached the bed.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Detective Brown,” the tall black man introduced himself.
“I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you. Do you mind telling me what’s going on here? Am I under arrest or something?”
“Unfortunately you are,” Detective Brown told her.
“What kinda bullshit is this? Three dudes kicked the shit out of me and I’m under arrest? You have got to be kidding me.”
“Afraid I’m not, ma’am. Last night units were dispatched to your home at 845 Columbus Avenue on a domestic dispute. They found one man dead and one critically wounded, and the murder weapon with your fingerprints on it.”
Slowly the pieces started coming back to Frankie. She remembered grabbing the gun from under the couch cushion but everything after that was fuzzy. “Shit.”
“Shit is right, and you’ve stepped into a big pile of it, li’l lady,” Detective Brown told her.
“They were going to kill me, I had no choice,” Frankie tried to explain to the detective.
“I don’t doubt that, miss, but you still shot and killed two men with an illegal handgun.”
“Two? I thought you said one was critically wounded?”
“Yes, but Mr. Payne expired this morning,” Detective Brown explained to her. “I’m just here to advise you of your rights and what you’ve been charged with. Now is there anything you can remember from last night that might help me to help you?”
“You want me to help you fuck me? I don’t think so. I’m not saying anything else until I speak to a lawyer.” Frankie turned her head away so that the detective wouldn’t see her crying.
“I think that might be best,” Detective Brown told her before reading Frankie her rights.
CHAPTER 48
Old San Juan, Puerto Rico
Animal knelt in one of the pews of the dilapidated church located just outside of town. The building was so ancient and unkempt that it threatened to fall in on itself. The city wanted to tear it down, but it had been declared a landmark by the people of Old San Juan, which meant that they couldn’t. To spite the people, the government let the church go, refusing to make repairs, and the people were too poor to do it themselves, so the church continued to crumble one brick at a time. Hardly anyone came there to worship anymore, but it was one of Animal’s favorite places to go in Old San Juan when he wanted to commune with his soul.
The last few days had been restless for him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw visions of the men he had massacred in La Perla. Usually killing didn’t bother him, but for some reason he couldn’t shake the images of the massacre. When they had gotten back to the farmhouse, Animal had received a hero’s welcome for the work he had put in on Cruz and his men, but he didn’t want their praises, he just wanted to be left alone. In the still of the night Animal had slipped off the property and come to the church, where he had been holed up for the last two days.
There was something about being in the church that soothed some of the unrest going on with him. He had never been a religious man, but believed in the higher power—how else could anyone explain all that he had lived through? Animal had stood in the shadow of death on many occasions and no matter how many times it had looked like his number would finally be called, he always managed to walk away. It was as if God had a plan for him that hadn’t been revealed to him yet.
His grandma used to tell him that they were all God’s creatures, put on earth to do God’s work to earn their place in heaven, but for as much of the devil’s work he did, he couldn’t help but wonder how far in the other direction the scales had tipped. Animal cast his tired eyes up to the image of Jesus on a cross that hung above the altar and felt like the eyes of the statue were looking down at him accusingly. “If you have something you want me to do, just tell me, don’t leave me in the dark to wonder,” Animal said to the statue, but there was no response. “Just like I thought.” He got up and brushed his knees off. He heard a rustling to his rear, but didn’t bother to turn around. “You can come out, Sonja.”
Sonja materialized from the shadows. She was wearing ripped jeans and a T-shirt. “How did you know?”
“I smelled your body wash.” He sat on the bench. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” She sat next to him. “You’ve been missing for two days and K-Dawg is having a shit fit. They thought you bolted back to New York.”
“Don’t worry, when I decide to leave this island and Los Negros Muertes I’ll give boss dawg proper notice,” Animal told her.
“You know, I’m completely baffled by you, Animal. You could stay here and live like a king, but you’d rather go back to New York and live like a fugitive.” Sonja shook her head. “Fucking men.”
“So how’s Chris doing?” Animal changed the subject.
“He’s good, thanks to you. I know I keep telling you this, but I can’t express enough how grateful I am for everything you done, no just for my brother but for my dad too. This war wasn’t going to end until he or Cruz was dead and I’m glad it was Cruz.”
“No thanks needed, I was just doing what I was paid to do, and speaking of payment, tell your dad I haven’t forgotten about my million dollars.” Animal laughed.
“Already taken care off, Animal. I deposited your money in an account that I opened up for you under a false name. All the information is in here.” She removed a small leather booklet and held it out. When Animal reached for it she pulled it back. “Can I ask you something, Animal?”
“If it’s gonna get you to hand over that little booklet, sure.”
“Why do you torture yourself like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Every day I watch you grieve over a life and a woman that you can never get back. I think you know that you can’t get them back, yet you torture yourself with thoughts of what-if. Why is the life you left behind more important than the life you can have?”
Animal sighed. “It ain’t necessarily the life, but the people who were in my life. I mean, of course I miss being a big rap star and all, but I miss the loved ones I left behind more than any of that. I came up on free lunch with Brasco and them, so not having them around anymore is hard on me.”
“And what about Gucci?” Sonja asked.
“Yeah, I think I miss her most of all. Not being able to have at least said good-bye has hurt me the most,” Animal said sadly.
“Your really love her, don’t you?”
“With everything that I am. When they ripped me away from her it created a hole in my soul that will never heal.” When he looked up at Sonja there were tears in the corners of his eyes.
Seeing Animal like that made Sonja’s heart hurt. She had wrestled with the decision the whole ride over to the church. Sonja had always held on to the hope that over time Animal would forget about Gucci and come to love her, but seeing the pain in his eyes she knew that she had been selfish. “Animal, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“You know you can tell me anything, Sonja. What’s going on with you?”
“It’s not about me, it’s about Gucci.”
She now had Animal’s full attention. “What about her?”
Sonja tried to find the right words. “The other day I overheard K-Dawg and Justice talking about a shootout that happened at this club, where a lot of people got hurt. I don’t know for sure, but I heard K-Dawg say something to Justice; telling him about the girl would only screw Animal’s head up worse. I assumed they were talking about Gucci. I’m sorry, Animal.”
Animal barely heard her apology. It felt like all the breath had been stolen from his body after hearing the news. He had promised that he would always be there to protect Gucci but he had broken that promise and something had happened to her. When he tried to stand, he found that his legs wouldn’t support him. Animal dropped to his knees in the shadow of the cross and cried like a baby.
“I’m so sorry.” Sonja knelt beside him and rubbed his back. “I never wanted to hurt you, but I felt you had a right to know.”
“Thank you, Sonja,” he said, sobbing. “I’ll be okay. Is she dead?”
“This I don’t know because K-Dawg never said.”
“I’ve got to go to her.” He staggered to his feet.
“You can’t.” Sonja grabbed him by the arm. “Animal, you know the fact that you’re under K-Dawg’s protection on the island is the only reason that you’re not dead or in jail. If you try to go back into New York, all bets are off.”
“It doesn’t matter. I at least have to try. If there’s even a snowball’s chance in hell that Gucci is still alive, then I need to find out.”
Sonja’s eyes became misty. “You would really walk into what could be your death for this woman?”
“In a heartbeat,” he said seriously.
Sonja was quiet for a long moment. She knew that Animal’s mind was made up and there was nothing she could do to change it, so the least she could do was try to help him. “Here.” She handed Animal the booklet.
