Coldhearted & Crazy (15 page)

Storm was pissed the fuck off. He never really got upset but when money was involved he turned into a pure maniac. “Son of a bitch! When is this bullshit gonna cease? My pockets are starting to feel this shit. For real, for real I'm over it!”

Storm and Deacon were getting a lot of complaints from their workers on the block. It seemed as if a lot of do-right organizations were starting to form all along the West Coast hell-bent on slowing down if not attempting to stop altogether the sale of drugs in certain low-income areas.

Deacon was heated as well as he cracked his knuckles. “I know that nigga Royce is pissed off too. I saw him and his boys out at the mall and he was complaining about getting his hard.”

Storm and his brother O.T. were shooting pool and trying to come up with a new game plan as Deacon paced the floor, almost wearing a hole in the carpet. After about an hour or so, they decided to set up another meeting with Royce. They knew he got all his dope from the same connect as they did, an old man in the Islands named Javier. If both crews could hopefully arrange a sit-down with the “elusive of the law” kingpin, maybe they could slightly lower the ticket and be able to stay above board until the heat of whatever was taking place would slow down and it could be back to business as usual.

“Real talk, I'm gonna call his phone and see if he wants to bump heads on this shit.” Deacon went to get the number and make the call. “I know he sick right now just like we is!”

“Yeah, do that, while I finish tapping your boy's ass on this table.” O.T. laughed as he put chalk on his cue. “Ain't gonna be nothing nice, son, know that!”

Deacon soon came out of the office with a big smile on his grill. “I talked to Royce. We're gonna meet at the football game two weeks from now. He said he got some tickets reserved for all of us.” Storm gave Deacon a stupid look and O.T. took over from there.

“It better not be any damn nosebleed seats up high. You know them old motherfuckers are broke as a fuck.”

“Man, shut your young-ass up!” Deacon was shaking his head, laughing at his comments.

O.T. continued to clown, having such an easy target to talk shit about. “I ain't playing. That ancient Negro gonna make me catch a case up in that bitch if them seats is foul. That's my word! Don't nobody wanna be sitting damn near in heaven watching the game with the angels!”

By that time Storm was falling out too, holding his side. “Man, I'm out. I gotta get to the crib. Kenya is cooking dinner and I don't want to be late.” Storm grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door.

“Yo, give her a kiss for me.” Deacon gave Storm some love and went over to the pool table to give O.T. a much-needed lesson in losing.

Storm and Kenya were sitting down at the table and finishing up the meal she'd prepared for them.

“Damn, baby, that shit was on point. You've got the total package, beauty, brains, and you can cook like a motherfucker. How did I get so lucky?”

Kenya cleared the table off and poured each of them another glass of wine. “I love you so much, Storm. I swear, you're my entire world.” She went and sat on his lap, resting her head on his chest. “When you gonna marry me?” As soon as the words came out of Kenya's mouth, she couldn't believe that she had said that shit. She had a look of embarrassment on her face. They hadn't been together a year, but it didn't matter, she was all in.

“Baby, let me take care of a few projects and I plan on doing just that, make you my wife. I want to make sure that I can buy us a house first.”

Storm asked Kenya if she would go in the floor safe in the guest bedroom and bring all the money down. He wanted to get an accurate count and see just what he was working with as far as cash on hand. Kenya had been putting his money in the safe both from the streets and his cut from the club almost nightly. He let her handle the cash because she was good at balancing shit.

“Baby, this money is our future.” Storm spread all the money on the floor and started to count.

While he was doing that, Kenya decided to check her messages from her cell phone. It said that she had seventeen new calls. After checking each one, she went upstairs to call London. It had been months and Storm still didn't know that she had an identical twin sister living back in Detroit. Maybe it was London's strong opposition to drugs: the one main thing that paid her and Storm's bills and would ultimately pay for their new house. Whatever her reason was, Kenya felt the strong need not to tell him—at least, not yet.

“Hey, girl, I missed you.” Kenya shut the door behind her for some added privacy.

“I missed you too. I've been trying to call you ever since last week. We got a good offer on the house and I want to take it.” London was ready to let go and move on just as Fatima had suggested. “What do you think? Unless there's a chance you might move back home!”

“All right, London, you set up the meeting with the real estate agent and I'll catch a flight out there. Just give me a couple of weeks. I seriously don't think I'll be moving back and if I do, I wouldn't want to stay in that neighborhood.”

Sad to hear Kenya's final verdict about relocating back to Detroit, the twins chatted a little bit more about all the hell that London was causing on the entire East Coast and of course how Kenya's new life was going in Dallas. When they hung up the phone Kenya made her way back downstairs. Storm was almost done counting all the cash and asked Kenya to run him some bathwater. When the water was just right, they both got in the tub and before even five minutes had past, they were making love. Storm's strong hands were firmly gripping Kenya's waist as her body took on a total sense of relaxation and pleasure. He pulled her wet hair as he slowly eased in and out of her. After repeating the calculated stroke motions over and over, Storm and Kenya both moaned out in passion as they started to climax together.

The two of them remained embraced in the water, talking until the water grew cold. Storm got out first and brought his woman a huge white fluffy towel. He picked her up out the tub and wrapped her up like a baby. Storm then carried her back to their bed and slowly started drying her off.

“Do you know how much I love you? You're my queen!” Storm kissed her hands and started sucking her fingers one by one.

Kenya was on cloud nine and confused. Anytime Storm touched her, she still trembled. She closed her eyes trying to stay focused. Kenya had to think of a lie and fast. She finally told him that she had to fly back east in a few weeks for her godson's birthday. Anytime she mentioned him, Storm would melt just as she did. He truly loved Kenya for her loyalty to the little boy despite not being blood related. She hated lying to her man, but what else could she do? Tell him her twin dope-dealer-hating sister and her had business to tend to?

“Baby, you know that I'm gonna miss you while you're gone. I wish that I could fly out east with you and meet your godson.” Storm was covering Kenya's face with kisses. He loved her with all his inner being. It was the first time that he truly opened his heart up to a woman. She was the one he'd waited for his whole life. He felt like the sun would rise and set on Kenya.

“I love you, daddy! You know I'm gonna miss you too, you and this dick.” Kenya started to rub on his pants and his manhood instantly jumped to attention.

Storm held Kenya tightly in his arms and hugged her like there was no tomorrow in sight. “Before you get on that plane and fly away from me, I want you to take this with you and promise me that you're gonna come back to me!” Storm reached in his pocket, pulling out an engagement ring and slipped it on to Kenya's finger. “Will you marry me?”

The room grew silent as Kenya stood in shock, weak in the knees.

“Well, is that silence a yes or a no?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Kenya, ecstatic, jumped up and down.

Storm and Kenya made love in the middle of the floor until it was time for him to take her to the airport. Kenya felt guilty for lying to the man she loved about her secret life back in Detroit. Admiring the ring he'd just placed on her finger, she made a promise to herself that when she got back to Dallas she would tell him the truth about everything she'd been hiding, especially London, and let the chips fall where they may. She prayed their love was strong enough to overcome whatever.

Storm had just returned from dropping his new wife-to-be off and had to get ready to meet Deacon at the club. He, Deacon, and Royce were flying out in the afternoon. The meeting with Javier was set and they hoped that it would go well. O.T. was going to stay behind and run things at the Alley Cats until Storm and Deacon returned. It was going to be a few days of terror at the club, because O.T. was a straight-up fool and everyone on staff knew it. Deacon had to leave a detailed list of do's and don'ts for him to follow. He was a clown, but with Kenya out east, unfortunately he was the next in line to run the place.

“Damn, it's getting about that time.” Storm looked at his watch. Kenya had packed his bag for him and had everything neat as hell. Storm looked at the picture of both of them on the dresser and threw it in his bag for good luck. He missed her smile already.
I just need to put this cash up. Damn, why didn't I remember to get Kenya to put it in the safe before she left?

He went to the guest bedroom and went into the closet. After moving all the clothes and boxes that Kenya had stacked up over the floor safe, he opened it, tossing the money inside. As he started to throw all the stuff back like he'd found it, a box fell down, almost hitting him in the head. The contents were scattered across the floor. It was a gang of papers that obviously belonged to Kenya. They were mostly old bills and receipts from what he could tell. Without paying much attention, he stuffed them back into the box, until one of them stood out.

“Motown Storage Units” was on the top of one of the paper printouts. It was dated the day that Kenya had flown out to be with him. He knew that she had a few things still out there that she couldn't bring on the plane, so that wasn't the big problem. The problem was the signature on the receipt.
Who in the hell is London Roberts?
He had seen Kenya's ID when they signed some insurance papers. He recognized Kenya's handwriting. He knew Amoya Kenya Roberts was her government name for certain, but who was London Roberts and how was she related to Kenya? Time was flying and he had to go pick up Deacon so they could catch their flight. He put the paper in his wallet and would ask Kenya about it when she got home or the next time they spoke. He trusted Kenya and knew that there was a good explanation for it.

Storm arrived at Alley Cats just as Deacon was giving O.T. the rundown on things and last-minute instructions as to how he wanted things done in his absence. Deacon and Storm were only going to be gone two or three days tops, but a lot of shit could happen between then and now, especially with O.T. running things. After they were totally convinced that O.T. had it down, they headed to the airport. Storm darted in and out of traffic and they made it to the terminal in record time.

“Damn, I was just out here. I should have just stayed out here, had a couple of drinks, and met you at the gate.” Storm and Deacon walked past the terminal that Kenya's plane had just departed from.

“Man, when is Kenya coming back?” Deacon wished that she had never left. Leaving O.T. at the helm made him a nervous wreck. That club was his whole life and he knew Storm's little brother could run it into the ground almost overnight.

“Relax, guy. She should be back in a few days. Just chill, ol' boy got you.”

After a minute or two they saw Royce and his boy turn the corner. They had their suits on and looked like some played-out car salesmen desperate for a deal. Deacon told Storm that this was sure to be the longest trip in history. Storm just laughed, knowing his best friend was about right this time even though he was busy missing Kenya. Royce and his boy greeted the two of them and waited for their plane to be ready to board.

“Where is that fine-ass woman you always have on your arm?” Royce questioned Storm, referring to Kenya.

“She had to fly out east to take care of some business. Plus she's not just my woman, she's my soon-to-be wife!”

Royce, his boy, and even Deacon all looked shocked at his announcement. They all congratulated him and jokingly told him to make sure to turn in his player's card before he got home.

The flight was a little bumpy, but it wasn't that long before they landed. A luxury car met them at the obscure airport and drove them all to a private airstrip at the edge of town. There they got on a smaller jet and finally reached Javier's exclusive villa. It was like a small paradise inside of a paradise. All of the small-time hustlers, compared to Javier's apparent wealth status, were impressed. When they got inside, a small-framed woman showed them to their individual deluxe suites. Each one was decorated with items that were obviously worth more than they ever hoped to afford in several lifetimes. With a welcoming spirit, she gave them fresh towels and informed them that Mr. Javier wanted them to relax, enjoy, and partake in his home's vast amenities, and he would meet with them the next day.

Kenya's plane landed on schedule and London and Fatima were both there to meet her.

“Hey, girl, I missed your ass!” Kenya was screaming as she hugged her sister.

“I missed you too. Look at you, still looking all fly as always.” London was also elated to see her twin. Fatima had to practically pry the two apart so that she could get a hug from Kenya. They gossiped and giggled all the way back to the hotel where Kenya was staying.

“We have the meeting with the real estate agent set up for the morning. Can you please wake up and get ready by ten a.m.?” London smiled as she messed with her sister. “I know how you do!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, girl, I can make it up by then, I guess. My husband-to-be gets up early and runs a few miles every day and I make him breakfast!” Kenya leaned back in the seat, waiting for a response.

“What do you mean, husband-to-be?” London did a double take at her twin sister, raising one eyebrow. She and Fatima were in shock as Kenya waved around the big rock on her finger that they had failed to notice. “Oh my God! When did all this happen? When am I going to meet him?” London was full of questions as she examined the size of the center stone.

“Don't worry, when I get back home I'm going to set something up, I promise.”

Fatima had to go on one of her famous top-secret missions and then make a trip up to the school, so she left the sisters alone. The twins sat up all night talking and having fun. They missed each other and by the way they carried on it showed. The conversation started on Storm and the new life Kenya was leading, to London and her organization spreading across the United States.

“Girl, you are going to love Storm. He treats me like gold. It's just like being a little kid in a candy store. Whatever I want or dream about, he makes possible.” Kenya was going on and on about her happiness.

“I'm so very glad for you both. As soon as this semester is complete, I'm going to visit, if that's okay. He sounds wonderful. What does he do for a living?” London quizzed her twin, trying to gain more information about the man who had her sister so wide open.

Kenya wasn't prepared for any of London's often judgmental statements, so she quickly flipped the script, changing the subject. Of course, Kenya was the queen of manipulation. It worked and the two were soon discussing London and her love life or lack of it. The back-and-forth conversation went on for hours.

It was a bright, sunny morning on the private island. Storm regretted that he didn't have the love of his life, Kenya, to share the gorgeous sunrise with him. As he got dressed, he looked a picture of them that he had thrown in his bag, and as corny as it seemed he kissed it.

Storm and Deacon got to the patio just as Royce and his boy did. It was 10:00 in the morning, on a tropical island, and Royce was still wearing a suit, even though it was damn near a hundred degrees in the shade.

“That nigga gonna rock that suit bullshit to the end!” Deacon laughed as he drank a glass of juice. “That hot-ass fabric is a damn heatstroke waiting to happen!”

Storm, like all the other invited guests, was sitting back thinking about what it would be like to be as rich and prosperous as Javier. Just then, two huge men entered the area. A matter of seconds later a short, balding old man joined them. Although none of the men had actually met their host, they could tell from the amount of respect shown by the staff that this was indeed the infamous Javier. He soon introduced himself and removed all doubt of his identity. He poured himself a glass of juice and then began to speak.

“I am, as some may say, a man of few words. Let me start by saying that I do appreciate you all coming to me like men to try to find a solution to your problems, and not trying to locate another supplier. I already know what your main obstacle is, and I have already put one of my best men on top of it. His name is Swift and he is already in the States. He will be sure to make all your problems go, should we say, away. I believe in cutting the monster's head off and that's what Swift will most certainly do. My people are passing around a picture of the source for you to see the face of the so-called Big Bad Wolf who's causing you such a great loss of money and grief. A silly little girl!”

Royce got the picture first and stared at it long and hard. His eyes were almost jumping out of his head. He leaped out of his seat and asked Javier if he could see him in private.

“Please, sir, I mean you no disrespect, but this is urgent!” Royce looked as if like he had seen a ghost.

Javier remained calm as he spoke. “Mr. Royce, we have no secrets here around this table. Feel free to speak your mind, no harm will come to the righteous, I can assure you of that!” Javier stared intensely at Royce, who was turning paler by the seconds. Storm and Deacon were watching him also.

Royce finally spoke. “I think these two are undercover police or something!”

Deacon and Storm both jumped out of their seats and couldn't believe what Royce had just blurted out alleging. “Man, what in the fuck are you talking about?” Storm, immediately infuriated and insulted, barked. “Are you fucking crazy, old man?”

“I'm talking about this bitch right here! Your woman is out east now ain't she? I mean that is what you told me!” Royce threw the picture across the table at Storm, who picked it up and started shaking his head, confused, in disbelief. Royce then started calling Storm a fucking snitch-ass rat who couldn't be trusted.

Javier sat back and watched the heated exchange take place among the three men. He told Royce and his boy to give him some time to sort this unfortunate mess out. Royce was asked to enjoy the rest of the day on the island relaxing and that he soon would be rewarded for his loyalty. After carefully observing Storm's and Deacon's responses to seeing the picture, he then reacted when dealing with them. Showing his power, the old man waved his hand and had his men remove both Storm and Deacon from the table and lead them to a back room.

Storm was totally speechless and in shock. He couldn't understand what he had just seen.

Deacon was terrified. “Damn, man, what the fuck is Kenya off into? I knew that bitch was too fucking good to be true. I can't believe this shit! What did she say she was flying out east for anyway?” He asked Storm question after question, knowing their lives were on the line.

“Listen, Deacon, I swear to you, guy, I don't know what the fuck is going on. Maybe these old cats are trying to test us or something? Besides, it was your boy Zack who turned us on to her in the first place. So stop pointing fucking fingers at me, okay?”

They were confused as hell and scared of what the outcome might be if this tangled web of deception wasn't straightened out fast. The two friends paced the floor as they tried to think of an explanation for the shit they were now in. After about an hour or so of being locked in the room, they heard footsteps approaching. They both started to sweat, as they watched the doorknob start to turn. The door was swung wide open and a group of men rushed inside, followed by a slow-paced Javier. As he entered the room, he focused all of his attention on to Storm. He had the picture of Kenya and Storm dangling from his hand. Javier had his men search Storm's luggage for any clues or evidence linking them to the mystery woman in the picture and what Royce had claimed to be true. They easily discovered the picture, along with a piece of paper, in his wallet.

“Okay, you men have your orders.” Javier gave his crew a slight nod. Some of his men grabbed Deacon by his throat, dragging him out of the room. He was begging for his life as he struggled to breathe. His eyes were bulging out his head. “Don't beg! It shows no pride. Be a man,” was all that Javier said in a nonchalant manner while still watching Storm, who two other men were holding back. Deacon didn't take Javier's advice and could be heard screaming as they took him in the basement. Javier seemed cold and unbothered about what was obviously about to take place. Deacon was undoubtedly on his way to heaven or hell thanks to an awful misunderstanding.

“Please, Javier! I don't know what's going on. I swear to God!” Storm was panicking, wanting the men to release Deacon before it was too late. “Listen, I know it looks bad, but it's not like that. That female in the picture can't be my girl. It doesn't make any kind of sense. My woman is down for me. She loves me! Something ain't right! She ain't no damn police! Trust me, she's not!”

Javier's men threw Storm in a chair and tied him up. He was still trying to explain, even though he didn't understand himself. Even though he was facing death, he couldn't grasp why or how his beloved Kenya could betray him like it seemed like she'd done. “It's not her! It must be a mistake! Let me call her! She can explain!”

“Please don't play with my intelligence, young man. The way you looked at that picture was a dead giveaway of your guilt and if I wanted more proof, you yourself provided it to me. So please stop with the lies.” Javier held the picture of Storm and Kenya up next to the picture that he'd passed around earlier at the table. As he lit a cigar, he asked Storm once again, “Do you care to try to explain?” Storm just shook his head and looked toward the ground. “I didn't think so,” Javier mocked, blowing smoke rings in the air.

Storm was in shock. The girl in the picture looked just like Kenya, only without makeup. How could this be? Storm was lost in his thoughts. How could this be his Kenya, but how could it not be? The final nail in the coffin came as Javier held up the paper that he had gotten out of Storm's wallet. He read the words that headlined the page. It said “Motown Storage Units.” It was the same receipt that Storm found in the closet and wanted to ask Kenya about himself.

Javier read off the name that was at the bottom of the page. Storm heard the name and couldn't believe what he heard. His mouth dropped open, remembering the name also. “I guess that you still don't know who London Roberts is, do you?”

Storm was heartbroken. Not because he knew he was about to die, but because he believed that Kenya had betrayed him. Javier motioned for his men to take Storm away. They untied Storm and snatched him up from the chair. Unlike Deacon, he didn't scream, fight, or negotiate as he was led away to the unknown. Javier and his men couldn't hurt him any worse than he believed that his once-cherished Kenya had already done