Authors: Tracy Brown

Criminal Minded (8 page)

BOOK: Criminal Minded

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I asked Zion to take me home. Lucky insisted on staying at the hospital. My moms and Wally’s funky ass were camped out in the ER waiting room trying to maintain a safe distance from Papa and Grandma. My grandparents had cussed both of them out. Poor Lucky stayed glued to Lamin’s side. She wouldn’t leave him. It was all too much for me and Zion. Zion spent ten minutes questioning Lucky and reminding her what to say and what not to say to the detectives who would come sniffing around.

I climbed in Zion’s passenger seat and he immediately peeled out of the parking lot. I thought we would head to the expressway to go to my house but instead, Zion drove back in the direction of Consequences. “Where are we going?” I asked.

Instead of answering, Zion drove up Bay Street until we got to where Lamin’s car was parked. I looked at Zion, confused.

“Drive your brother’s car and follow me,” Zion said. He reached across my lap to the glove compartment and pulled out a spare set of Lamin’s car keys. Seeing the questioning look on my face, Zion explained. “We both have a set of each other’s car keys in case something happens. I don’t want to leave his car parked out here tonight, so you can drive it and follow me to your grandparents’ house.”

I hesitated. Zion frowned. “Do you know how to drive, Olivia?” he asked.

“Hell, yeah, I know how to drive!” The last thing I wanted was for Zion to think I was a baby who couldn’t drive a car. But the truth was that I had only driven Lamin’s car twice, and I sure wasn’t comfortable driving in front of Zion. “I just don’t want to drive my brother’s car right now,” I lied. “It’s too emotional for me.”

Zion nodded. “So drive this car then.” Zion left the keys dangling in the ignition and got out. Before I could protest, Zion was behind the wheel of Lamin’s Lexus starting the car.

Any other time I would have jumped at the chance to drive Zion’s car. Especially since there were a bunch of chicks I went to school with walking by. It would have been nice for them to see me driving Zion’s pretty car, and word would have spread quickly throughout the borough that I was Zion’s baby. But I was a rookie at driving. I was nervous as hell. What if I crashed Zion’s Infiniti? What if I couldn’t remember all the things Lamin told me about driving? I looked at Zion sitting in Lamin’s car and he impatiently yelled, “Come on, Olivia!”

I jumped out, got in the driver’s seat, adjusted the mirrors, and started the car. Before I could prepare myself, Zion peeled off, and I had to struggle to catch up. My legs were shaking like crazy, but
I managed to stay behind Zion. He must have been doing eighty miles per hour and I was scared to death! Thankfully, we were only going a few blocks away to my grandparents’ house on Vanderbilt. By the time I got there, Zion had already parked Lamin’s car and was waiting for me at the curb.

“New driver, huh?” he asked, smirking.

I was too embarrassed to even answer him. Zion climbed back into the driver’s seat while I sat where I belonged … in the passenger seat! He drove off, and his black Infiniti zipped along the expressway toward South Avenue. Once we pulled up in front of my house, it suddenly dawned on me that I would be home alone. The last thing I wanted was to be alone.

Zion cut the engine and reached under his seat. He pulled out a gun and the handle gleamed in the moonlight. I hesitated. “You think somebody’s in the house?” I asked.

Zion shrugged. “Let’s see,” he said, and he climbed out of the car.

SEVEN

shot down

Olivia

We entered the house, and it was dead quiet. With Zion by
my side, I knew I was safe. Lamin trusted him, and I knew that Zion would guard me with his life. Zion checked every corner and crevice, and then tucked his gun into his holster. “You gonna be alright, here?” he asked.

I shook my head no. “I don’t wanna stay here by myself.”

“You’re scared?”

“Yeah, Zion. I don’t wanna be in this house all by myself when there’s people trying to kill my brother.”

Zion shook his head. “Well I ain’t staying here with you, Olivia. All I need is for your moms to come up in here and find me chillin’.”

I loved his voice. “Well, let me change and grab some clothes for Lucky, and I’ll come with you.” I prayed he wouldn’t shoot me down.

He hesitated briefly. “Hurry up. I’ll wait down here.”

I ran up the stairs, grabbed my stuff, and took a quick ten-minute shower. I smoothed my skin with cocoa butter and threw on my Phat Farm shorts and fitted T-shirt to match. I ran to my closet to find something for Lucky, and every outfit reminded me of Lamin. He had bought me all of it. La had blessed me more than anyone in my life, and he was near death. I definitely did not want to be alone that night. The thought of losing Lamin made me feel faint. I grabbed a pair of shorts and my Port Richmond High School senior T-shirt for Lucky, threw on my 54–11s and ran downstairs.

“Let’s go,” I said. I came downstairs to find Zion peeking out the window. He stood up when I reached the bottom of the stairs and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was looking at my legs. We locked up the house and drove back to the hospital. Lucky met us outside, and she seemed grateful for the change of clothes.

“You guys are staying, right?” she asked.

I looked at Zion and he looked the other way.

“Nah,” I said. “I can’t sit up in there with my moms right now.” I hoped she would leave it at that. She didn’t.

“You’re going home with Zion?” Lucky just blurted it out. I know Zion heard her but he pretended not to.

“Lucky, please just call Zion the minute you know anything about my brother.”

Lucky nodded. “I will.” Zion put the car in drive, and we headed for Brooklyn.

When we got to Brooklyn, Zion had lieutenants stationed on his block and on each surrounding block. As we drove down Fort Greene, I heard the whistles, shouts, and code words erupting in chorus block after block. We drove through the Walt Whitman Projects and the Farragut Houses. Hustlers on each corner greeted his black Infiniti as it passed them by. I could tell that Brooklyn was Zion’s home. We soon reached Clinton Hill and I was amazed at how nice Zion’s neighborhood was. Fort Greene was the ’hood in every sense of the word. But Zion’s place was exquisite. And it sure was large.

Zion lived on Hall Street—a residential block lined with trees. His building was a brownstone multidwelling with ten steps leading to a large oak doorway. I took notice of the cars that were parked at the curb. Camrys, Acuras, and at least one BMW Zion was living large, and I couldn’t wait to see the inside of his home. Once inside, we climbed two flights of stairs, and then we entered a long carpeted hallway. The building was quiet and so clean. Zion put his key in the door of apartment 204 and we entered together.

Once inside, my chin hit the floor. Zion’s place was so big! It was a typical bachelor pad with sneakers in the middle of the floor and
blunt guts all over the table. Zion immediately started making phone calls. I went to take a look around. The sofa was a soft black leather and the coffee table was a heavy mahogany piece. His TV sat inside a tall mahogany armoire. Zion opened it, removed the remote control, and handed it to me. He never missed a beat with the telephone conversation he was having, either. I took the remote from him, but I wasn’t done roaming.

There was a fireplace in the living room. It was big, and I noticed a large portrait hanging over it. Without having to ask, I immediately knew that the couple in the photo were Zion’s parents. His resemblance to his father was uncanny. I stepped inside the kitchen, which had all black appliances—including the refrigerator, complete with an icemaker. There was an island in the center of the kitchen and I wondered who cooked for Zion in this dream kitchen. I was hoping that someday it would be me. I noticed a small bar against the far wall with black martini glasses sitting on top. The kitchen was divine.

Walking back into the living room, I walked over and peeked between his drawn blinds. He had a view of the Empire State Building that I could stare at for days.

“What you lookin’ for?” Zion asked, hanging up the phone.

I turned around. “Nothin’.”

“Relax then,” he said. “Get comfortable. Get some sleep.”

I was exhausted. “What about you?” I asked.

Zion was dialing again. “I’ll be up for a minute. Don’t worry about me.
You’re
safe. That’s what matters.” He looked at me and I thought I detected affection in his eyes. “Go to sleep,” he said.

I didn’t argue. I walked to the back of a hall and found Zion’s big ole bedroom. His king-sized bed seemed to take up half the room, and it sat on top of a solid wood platform frame. The wood headboard was covered by a plush black afghan with ZION stitched across it boldly in white. His bed was comfortable, and it smelled like him. I would have a lot of sweet dreams about lying in Zion’s bed. I was asleep in minutes.

I woke up and looked at the bedside clock. It was 4:27 A.M. I
climbed down from Zion’s bed. I could smell the weed smoke wafting down the hall. As I walked down the hall, I could hear Zion coughing—choking on the stimuli. I could also see the light from the TV flickering in the dark living room.

“You sharing that?” I asked as I entered. Zion lay on the butter soft black leather sofa with his long legs flung over the arm of it. He had on nothing but a wifebeater, his gun holster, and baggy sweats. His olive complexion contrasted perfectly with his dark hair and mustache. I loved his appearance even when he wasn’t dressed to impress. I noticed his .45-caliber gun laying on the coffee table next to The Source magazine. I also noticed that he had no socks on his feet. He had nice feet, too. He caught me lookin’ but I played it off. He was high. I could see it in his bedroom eyes.

“You smoke weed, Olivia?” he asked between coughs. I nodded as he caught his breath. “When you start smoking weed?” He was smiling, mocking me. Him and Lamin had a habit of acting like I was a baby despite the fact that they were only a year or two older. Bottom line was, I was eighteen years old—grown!

“Don’t worry about when I started smokin’. When did you start smokin’?”

Zion puffed the blunt again. He seemed to think back.

“When I was nine,” he said.

I tried not to act surprised, but in my head I was thinking,
Damn! Nine?

He passed me the blunt. “Does Lamin know you smoke weed and cigarettes?” he asked.

“Why? You gonna tell on me, Zion?” I inhaled.

“Yup!” Zion said. “As soon as he opens his eyes, I’ma tell him!”

I saw the pain in his eyes then. Zion couldn’t sleep because Lamin’s life was hanging by a thread.

“I should call the hospital … ,” I started to suggest.

“I called there four times, and Lucky has called here twice,” Zion said. “Lamin’s still sleeping.”

I felt chills. I took another toke. “Who did it, Zion?” I asked, passing him back the blunt. He looked at me and then looked away. When he caught my gaze again, his eyes were sincere.

“Nobody,” he said. “Nobody, now. That person is already a memory. He’ll never pull another trigger.” I believed him. I knew that he would avenge my brother’s shooting. And it made me love Zion more.

Zion smoked nothing but hydro, so we were soon stuck—high beyond reason—and deep in thought. The TV had been replaced by the radio, and we listened to Jodeci, Boys II Men, and Mary J. Blige on the late-night rotation. Lamin couldn’t die, I told myself. He had to survive so he could be there for me. Zion told me that the love Lamin had for me was beautiful. “When your brother talks about you,” Zion said, “you can see how much he loves you. Don’t ever take that for granted. I ain’t ever had a family of my own, so seeing how you and La get down is nice.”

As we sat listening to the radio, Zion opened up to me about growing up in the homes of strangers, surviving the maze of group homes and juvenile facilities, and finally the streets. I told him about my crazy, money-hungry moms and the father I never got a chance to know. I was surprised at how little Lamin had told Zion about our mother. Lucky had also seemed surprised when “Hurricane Nadia” blew into the ER. I guess Lamin didn’t talk about her ’cause she did him so dirty. Who can blame him? My mother can be a hard pill to swallow.

I sat Indian-style on the carpet flippin’ through Zion’s CD collection. He sat on the sofa sippin’ on E&J. I looked at the large portrait of Zion’s parents on the wall over his fireplace. Zion looked just like his father, but his mother was lovely.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you ever feel guilty selling drugs, knowing that drugs are what killed your mother?”

Zion sipped his drink and looked in my eyes over the rim of the
glass. I was beginning to regret the question because he looked like he didn’t know whether to be mad at me for asking it or mad at himself for giving me the go-ahead.

“Nah,” he said at last. “My moms was a beautiful woman, but she was weak. She was sick and so are the fiends I serve. They’re all weak, and addiction is a sickness. If I didn’t sell to ’em, somebody else would.”

I didn’t completely agree with his answer, but I accepted it.

“Why?” he asked. “You think I’m a bad guy?”

I laughed. “Nah, you’re a good guy, Zion.” He blushed and I wanted to kiss him so bad. Zion had a little softness underneath his hard-core exterior. I understood the fact that he was a friend of Lamin’s, but I wanted him in the worst way. I stepped up to the plate.

“How come you never kissed me, Zion?” I asked.

He looked at me. “You’re higher than a muthafucka right now, girl. What kinda question is that?”

Strike one.

“We’re
both
high, and it’s the kinda question that deserves an answer.” I was quick with mine!

“I never kissed you ’cause it ain’t like that with me and you,” Zion said.

“Why?”

“Yeah, why?” I was persistent.

Zion looked at me. “’Cause your brother would never forgive me. That’s why.”

Strike two.

“What if Lamin don’t know what he’s talking about, Zion? I love and respect my brother just as much as you do. But, damn! I ain’t gonna let him run my sex life.”

“Sex life?” Zion sat upright.

I would not strike out. I pulled out the big guns. I crawled over to where Zion sat on the sofa and kneeled between his legs. We were eye to eye and I know he was thinking,
What the hell is she doing?
I
leaned in close to him and kissed him, slow and sweet. And he didn’t resist.

Home run!

Zion

I couldn’t believe she kissed me. She took my breath away. I shouldn’t have kissed her back, but I did. Olivia was impossible to resist, ‘cause her lips felt soft like pillows! Plus, I was feelin’ all kinds of shit since Lamin was still unconscious. I guess I needed Olivia, and I wanted her. She kissed like I had never been kissed before. It was different … it was sexy. I pulled her shirt over her head and her body was beautiful. When I saw her half-naked like that, I felt shy for the first time in years. She made me feel like a schoolboy gettin’ with a girl he had a crush on for the longest.

Olivia’s nipples were hard, and I stroked them. She stood up, unbuttoned her tiny shorts, and stepped out of them. I watched her take off her pretty panties, and her pussy was shaved to perfection. She turned the volume up on the radio and walked down the hall to my bedroom. I followed her like a drooling puppy. The girl had the most beautiful ass I had ever seen. I watched it jiggle and bounce down the hall.

I got to my room and found Olivia sprawled out on my bed. She was a sight for sore eyes. I took off my shirt and my holster and stepped out of my pants. My dick was harder than a brick wall. I laid on top of Olivia and kissed her. I’m not big on kissing ’cause to me that shit is too intimate. But Olivia’s kisses were addictive. I slid my finger inside her and her walls were tight like a viselike grip. Olivia ground her hips to the same rhythm of my hand. I was open. But I couldn’t let her know that. Her body was amazing! Her stomach was flat and firm. Her titties were real big and her nipples were so hard that I couldn’t stop sucking them. She sucked on my neck as I finally put my dick inside her. That shit made me wanna holla. Her moans,
kisses, and body language was our only communication and it was the sweetest thing. Her voice was so sexy. I took my time. Now that I had her, I didn’t want to let go until I had to. I pushed her titties together and sucked them both at the same time. That night I had the best sex of my life.

I wanted to see her ass so I decided to hit it from the back. I pulled out of her.

“Turn over.”

She did. She got on all fours and bent forward on her elbows. So now, her big apple-shaped ass was in the air, and the warrior between my legs saluted it. I rubbed the head of my dick between her parted lips, then I slid inside her once more. Her ass bounced while I was hittin’ it, and she grabbed the sheets for support. I grabbed her titties from behind and leaned forward kissing and licking her neck and the small of her back. Olivia was cummin’. She moaned deeply and I could feel her walls constrict against my dick like contractions. That was all I needed to send me over the edge. I came at the same time she did.

My head was spinnin’. I rolled over and laid on the pillow beside her. She turned on her side and faced me. We were both out of breath. We looked at each other for a while. I guess neither one of us knew what to say. Olivia is never quiet for long, though.

“See?” she said. “You should have kissed me a long time ago.” She smiled.

I laughed and we both laid there lost in our own thoughts. Minutes later, Olivia was knocked out. I watched her sleep. She really was a beautiful girl. I stared at her laying naked in my bed, and I wanted to hold her for the rest of my life. Talking to her was easy. She opened up to me about her life, and that made me feel comfortable talking about mine. She made me think back on a lot of shit that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.

I drifted off to sleep wondering how things would change between me and Olivia.

Then the sun came up …

The phone rang at 7:29. I answered it, my voice all heavy with sleep. It was Lucky. She sounded like she was crying and my heart froze in my chest.

“He’s asking for you, Zion.”

I bolted out of bed. “He’s awake, Lucky?” Olivia was up now, and both of us dressed in a hurry.

“Yeah,” Lucky said, choking back sobs. “He’s talking a little, and the doctor said that’s good.”

“Then why are you crying?” I was confused.

“I’m just so happy that he’s gonna make it, Zion.”

I smiled to myself, determined to tell Lamin how blessed he was to have a girl that loved him that much. I told her that we were on our way. I hung up the phone and faced Olivia. She was lovely even at 7:30 in the morning.

“Olivia, I don’t even know what to say about last night.” I was being honest. Now that the fog had lifted, I realized that I had let my best friend down twice in one day. I didn’t have his back when he needed me. And now I had sexed his sister. I knew right then that I could never be with her the way I wanted to be with her.

But, I really had a thing for Olivia. When I was with her I felt vulnerable. And that was unfamiliar to me. She sparked something in me.

“So, right now let’s not say anything,” she said.

I was grateful for the silence as we headed back to Staten Island.

BOOK: Criminal Minded

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