RedBone 2 (4 page)

 

 

A cold air crept up Farah’s spine as the mother of the person she killed stared down at the picture of her trying to take his life. Farah quickly stood up, placed the picture behind her back, and said, “It’s none of your business, Ms. Baker.”

Della gripped the head of her cane and leaned on it for support. “What did you just say to me, child?”

Although Farah really wanted to deliver her old ass, she had to remember that Della was the mother of a man she adored. She cleared her throat. “I meant, it’s my picture and nothing you need to be worried about.” She collected the lid and box off the floor. “I have to go now. I’ll be back soon when I find Eleanor.”

She sprinted down the hallway, and Della didn’t take her eyes off the sneaky girl until she disappeared into the elevator. “That was a close fucking call,” she said to herself.

Once inside the elevator, she bumped into Kindle and Raven, two freaked-out bitches who moved in with their brother and single mother last week. The first day she met them she saw them smack their mother in the back of the head when she didn’t give them twenty dollars. And for that, she despised them. They both wore jeans so tight you could see the veins under their skin.

“Hi, Farah Cotton.” Kindle waved with a sly smirk on her face.

“How come you always look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Raven added before they both stepped out on the floor and headed toward their apartment.

“I hate them bitches,” she said to herself.

Luckily for them she had other shit to deal with. She pressed the button leading to downstairs and looked up at the ceiling. Since Della almost caught her with the picture of Knox in her hand, she used it as a moment to talk to the dead. “I know what you’re trying to do, Knox. I love Slade, and no one will ever find out what I did to you. Do you hear me? Never!”

When the elevator rocked a little, like it was jammed, her eyes flew open. Now she wished she hadn’t made the comment. It wasn’t until the door unlatched and she was looking at the door leading outside that she was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Too much was going on. First she had to find out where Eleanor was located and eliminate her before she ratted her out. Then she had to find the mystery boy who delivered the picture.

The moment she stepped outside and into the night air, she was approached.

“Farah, let me holla at you for a minute.”

She knew exactly who he was. His voice was steady and immediately inserted fear into her. The voice belonged to Knight, Rhonda’s fiancé and also the father of their dead baby.

She knew he would never believe her if she told him that the fight she got into with Shannon at Rhonda’s baby shower, which resulted in her going into early labor, was not her fault. But, in her mind she was telling the truth.

Shannon thought it would be cute to roll in with Coconut and spray perfume in Farah’s face, which temporarily blinded her. To make matters worse, Shannon had walked up to her and said, “‘Bitch, that’s why I got something you want, and his name was Slade Baker.” Farah snapped, and when it was all said and done, she slapped Shannon so hard that her heel broke and Rhonda had to be rushed to the hospital.

And there Farah was, looking into the eyes of an angry, emotionally mutilated father. His brown leather coat was soiled with dried vomit, and he was visibly drunk. As despondent as he appeared, it didn’t take away from his sleepy eyes and heavy sex appeal. She was just about to greet him when she noticed something else: he had a bottle of beer in his right hand and a gun in his left.

“You’re just the bitch I wanted to see,” he said, waving her his way with the barrel of the nine. “Come here, Farah. I gotta rap to you for a second.”

Farah paused with fear. “Knight . . . what you doing here? Should you be in the hospital?”

“I’m where I should be. Right here.”

She eyed the weapon again. “I . . . just . . .”

When he saw she was about to bounce, he caught up with her. Standing over her, he said, “What happened the other day? At the baby shower you threw for Rhonda?”

He was now in her breathing space, and the smell of beer and Burberry men’s cologne made her nauseous.
Don’t break out in hives, Farah. Don’t break out in hives.
“What you talking about?”

“Bitch, you know what the fuck I’m talking about! How did she end up hitting her head on the edge of your living room table? They telling me you did that shit on purpose, and I’m not understanding if that’s true or not.”

“It’s not true!”

“Why would you do something like that, Farah?” he asked, ignoring her denial. “I heard you were a sneaky bitch, but would have never thought you would go this far.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Knight.” There was no reasoning with him, and she could tell he was about to get violent. “But I really gotta go somewhere right now. Can I talk to you—”

“Slut, anything you got to do ain’t more important than what’s happening now. There wasn’t anything I wanted to be more than a father, and you took that from me! You took that from both of us.” He laughed crazily. “Surely you can spare a few minutes to tell me why my life is changed because of you.”

“Knight, please, give me a few hours and maybe we can grab some coffee and stuff like that.” She looked at the gun. “Okay? But don’t do anything right now that you’ll regret later. I’m begging you.”

“Who said I will regret it?”

“Knight, please.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t pull the trigger.” He raised the barrel of his gun and pointed it at her face. “All I want is one.”

Farah wished somebody would come outside and save her now. Slade would be great, but her brother Shadow or her sister Mia would help too. But when she looked back at the building’s door, it was evident that she was alone.

“You shouldn’t pull the trigger, because I care about Rhonda,” she wept. “And I never meant to hurt her.”

Although the gun was still trained on her, he took a swig of beer with his other hand, and when he did, she shoved him backward and took off running. She heard the bottle of beer crash to the ground, and when she looked back, he was on the concrete too.

Luckily, his inebriation left her with time to fly for her life. Before he could rise to his feet, she was history. Now in her Benz and halfway down the street, she finally felt safe. Her car, which needed repairs, made loud clanking noises on the way down the street. At least it drove. Scanning her rearview mirror, she saw him run into the street and throw a piece of glass at her, but she was nowhere close.

All the stress made her thirsty. She wanted blood. Fresh blood. But now was not the time.

“Farah, you gotta do what you gotta to protect yourself. You see how people are trying to kill you,” she said to herself. “It’s you against the world.”

When her phone rang, she started not to answer, until she saw the correctional center on the caller ID. It was Ashur, the man she knew as Daddy despite not being blood related. And also the man who, she was sure, had no idea that she was not his biological daughter, a secret her trifling-ass mother took to her grave.

“How you doing, Daddy?”

“I’m great, baby girl,” he said cheerfully. “The real question is how is my red baby doing? I know good, so I’m not even worried about it.”

She could tell by the sound of his voice that he was ignorant of what was happening to their family.
He doesn’t know Mommy’s dead,
she thought.
Or that Chloe’s missing.
She knew one thing, and that was that she was not going to be the bearer of bad news. Besides, she had enough crosses to bear. “I’m fine, but I can’t talk right now, Daddy. I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

“Okay, but before you hang up, I wanted to tell you that a friend of yours is in here with me. I think he said his name is Tank or something like that.”

The brakes made a screeching noise because after hearing Tank’s name, Farah pressed on her brakes so hard, she almost crashed into the car ahead of her. Randy told her that Tank was in jail with Ashur, but so much happened that she forgot to analyze exactly what it meant. At the end of the day, a man she wronged was in jail with a man she loved with everything.

“Daddy, listen to me, he is not a friend. Okay? Please be careful and do not trust him. I don’t care what he tells you.”

Silence.

When he didn’t answer, she observed the cell to be sure the call hadn’t dropped. “Daddy, are you there?”

“Yes, red baby,” he said softly. “I got what you telling me.” She could tell he was in an entirely different mood now.

“But I got to go, Daddy. I wish I could talk longer, but life is in a hurry over here. I love you.” She hung up before he disputed. Three names were on her mind at the moment, and they were Eleanor, Chloe, and Slade. She was not trying to waste time thinking about Tank or Randy.

When she made it to Eleanor McClendon’s complex she tried to come up with a plan to convince her to allow her into her apartment. The idea was to murder her in private. She was devising a plan of action when, surprisingly, she saw Eleanor exiting her building.

Eleanor’s white skin was kissed with too much red blush, green eye shadow, and pink lipstick. She resembled a clown more than a woman of the night. Eleanor was clueless that Farah had her in her sights as she hustled down the block with her black raincoat wide open, revealing what was for sale to the lowest bidder.

“I finally got you now, bitch,” Farah said, following her slowly in her car. “I’m sorry I gotta do this, but it’s either me or you. I hope you understand.” Whether she did or didn’t was of no consequence to Farah; she was just talking shit.

Eleanor was in a world of her own, until she turned around and saw the eyes of a redbone veering in her direction. She felt off balance as she looked for something to hold on to for support. The day she’d dreaded ever since Farah and Slade infiltrated her place and forced what she knew about Knox’s whereabouts out of her, had finally arrived. Farah wanted to kill her and she knew it.

The moment their eyes met, Farah slammed her car alongside the curb, jumped out, and charged in her direction.

Eleanor may have been old, but slow she wasn’t. She caught wheels as she pushed toward the wind in an effort to save her life. Eleanor was already making promises to God if He let her survive. First she’d get clean and never press the stem of a needle into her pussy again, just to get high. Then she’d reach out to her son and apologize for all the things she’d done wrong to him. But first, for reasons she couldn’t decipher, she had to deal with the fact that Farah Cotton was trying to catch her.

Farah hadn’t expected Eleanor to be so quick when she first pursued her. She was already out of breath, but when she looked at the tail of Eleanor’s raincoat flapping in the wind, she couldn’t see any signs of her reducing speed. She was relentless, and Farah had to catch up quick if she wanted to win the race.

After a few blocks, Farah was finally gaining on her, until Eleanor dipped around a corner and ran directly into a cop and his partner. Since they were leaning on a fence, smoking cigarettes, it was obvious that they weren’t DC’s finest.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the black cop said, with his hands up in the air. “Normally we have to run after you, Eleanor. You must be some kind of scared if you turning yourself in to us,” he joked.

“Somebody . . . somebody is trying to . . .” She was trying to catch her breath, but it was difficult. She leaned on the fence and kept looking behind herself in fear.

“Talk slower. We can barely understand you,” the Spanish cop with him responded, as he dropped his cigarette and smashed it under his worn-out work boot. He eyed Farah suspiciously when she came into view. She stood behind Eleanor like an abusive boyfriend, waiting for the right moment to smack all the shit out of her.

When Eleanor didn’t respond, the cop asked Farah, “Can we help you with something, young lady?”

“I . . . uh . . .” She tried to find something to do with her hands, but they fluttered about her like loose flags. “I’m lost and I saw you officers over here, so I . . . I came to get directions.”

“Well, where are you going?” the Spanish cop asked. “Maybe we can help you get there.”

“No, you can’t,” she screamed, way louder than she wanted. Both of the cops’ hands hovered over their weapons. Something about her seemed dangerous. “I mean . . . I can find my own way now.” She looked at Eleanor and tried to think of something she could say to get her to come with her, but Eleanor was shaking harder than a washer on the spin cycle.

“So let me get this straight. You not lost?” the Spanish cop reminded her before eyeing Eleanor’s rocky stance.

“You know this girl, Clapper?” he asked, trying to do his job for the first time all day. “If something is up, you can tell us now.” Although he didn’t respect Eleanor’s hustle, at least he knew where she was coming from, but the fine redbone before him he couldn’t be sure of. Something in her eyes was pure evil.

“We’re friends,” Farah interjected. “I been knowing her for a long time and was coming over to talk to her about something private. She didn’t know who I was at first and got scared. But she knows me now. Ain’t that right, Eleanor?”

Silence.

“Is that true, Eleanor?” the black cop asked. “Because you can say the word and we can get this taken care of right now.”

Eleanor looked behind her at Farah. She didn’t want to spark up more shit than the neighborhood could stand, so she searched Farah’s eyes. Searched them for the hope that she would leave her alone if she didn’t tell the cops that she was gunning for her. In seconds, Farah nonverbally gave her the answer she needed.

 

 

Slade’s head was heavy and his throat dry as he plodded toward the kitchen where Mia and Shadow were. Like everybody else, they were waiting for the verdict. Would Farah return with Eleanor or not?

The moment Slade walked up to them, Shadow grimaced. Shadow was eating an apple and upon seeing Slade’s face, he tossed it in the trash.

Ignoring Shadow, he asked Mia, “Can I have something to drink?”

His country accent was all Shadow needed to get ignorant. “Yeah, if you go to your country-ass crib and get it. All the drinks over here are for family . . . and friends. Not traitors.”

“I know you’re upset, man, and I am too. But if you call me a traitor again, the way I feel right now, I’m not sure how I might react.” Slade looked square into Shadow’s eyes so he’d know he was serious.

“Shadow, why don’t you go roll that thing up in my room,” Mia said, trying to cool things off. Normally she was stingy with her smoke, but if she had to share a little to ease the tension, then she’d take one for the team.

Mia was thinking about unwanted repercussions. Shadow was on paper having just been released from prison, and she saw Slade kill a man with his bare hands. If they fought, either way you looked at it there would be a problem.

“Whatever the fuck,” Shadow said softly, so that Elise wouldn’t hear him cursing. “If you want a pull, come back there.” He looked at Slade. “’Cause I ain’t sharing.”

Mia shook her head when he disappeared into the back of the apartment. Slade stood in front of her like he was waiting for something. “Your girlfriend not here. You can get yourself something out of the refrigerator if you thirsty.”

Slade walked to the refrigerator and pulled it open. When he did, the handle came off in his hands. “Fuck,” he yelled, holding the large silver grip. “I’m so sorry about this shit.”

“Hold up. Did you just break the refrigerator?” Mia asked, astonished.

Slade, never really knowing his strength, said, “Yeah, sometimes I’m a little too rough for my own good.” He set the handle on the counter and took out his wallet. “Plus I got a lot on my mind.” He set $700 on the counter. “If that’s not enough, let me know.”

He went to the fridge in another attempt to open it, until Mia stood in front of him.

“I’ll get it. You sit down.” Before he took a seat on one of the flimsy bar chairs, she said, “On second thought, just stand.” She opened the fridge on the side and handed him a bottle of water.

“I was hoping for something a little harder,” he said, placing it on the counter.

She laughed and nodded at her grandmother, who was in the living room talking to Major, instead of Della, for whatever reason. “I don’t pull out stuff when she’s in the house. She nags too much.”

“Wow, I guess I came up different. My mother prefers us to have a stiff one if we going through it.” Slade looked exhausted.

“On second thought, I’ll hook you up. Just tell me if my grandmother walks over here.” Slade stood on guard. Using the counters to hide, she made him a stiff drink, lots of vodka. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He drank it all and then sipped on the water. “I needed that shit.”

“When they leave, we have to talk about Chloe and Audio. I need whatever has to be done to be done, so we can get her back. Between her going missing and my mother getting murdered, I don’t know how I’m still standing.”

“I really am sorry to hear about your mother. You know what happened yet?”

“No.” She sighed. “I don’t know anything because we had to jump right into this. And I’m not going to lie, I’m mad at your brother about all of this. He had no right going through our shit.”

“But look what he found,” Slade said. “Knox’s phone.”

Mia couldn’t deny that he made a good point. “Yeah, but Farah would’ve told you about the phone once she had a chance to look through it. All this shit came at a bad time, Slade. I think that’s why my brother threw him out of the house earlier.”

“Killa looked like he had someplace else to be anyway,” Slade said, remembering how he kept looking at his phone and going back and forth over to Markee’s house. “And try not to worry so much about Chloe because we all over that shit.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “We gonna bring them both back safe.” He shook his head. “I’m just worried about Farah.”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Mia told him, “just as long as she has you when it’s all said and done.”

He looked at her. “Whether we’re together or not, I’m going to always protect her,” he responded. “But if she lies to me about anything, I’m not sure about the relationship. I hope you can understand that.”

“She’s not lying to you,” Mia responded.

“Then we’ll always be,” he said.

When Elise yelled to Shadow in the bedroom and asked him to call Chloe to see where she was, Mia shook her head. “You know we can’t even discuss Chloe right now because my grandmother will flip,” she whispered. “She thinks Chloe is out in the streets. If she thought anything else, she would lose it.”

“She’ll be back home before she knows a thing.”

Slade was about to go to the bathroom, until he saw his mother on the phone by the large window. He knew her all of his life, and could tell by the way her body stiffened that she was up to something.

Slade placed his water bottle on the table. “Excuse me, Mia.” He ambled toward Della, until only she could hear him. “What you doing, Ma?”

Della placed the phone into her pocket and rested on her cane. “I don’t want to lie to you, son,”—she looked into his eyes—“so don’t make me.”

“Please say you didn’t call them.” Slade shook his head. “You know how they are, Ma. Them niggas not gonna ask questions. They all about the killing.”

She placed her hand on her son’s. “Since y’all been here I’ve lost everything, Slade. I don’t feel like being patient anymore. I want my babies home.” She placed her hand on her chest and, for the first time in ages, she didn’t appear strong. “And I want Knox and Audio home like yesterday. If I have to call on your cousins to make that happen, and they have to murder everybody in the process, then so be it.”

When there was a knock at the door, everyone rushed to it, thinking it was Farah.