RedBone (38 page)

“Got what?” Amico said, looking between them. Then he looked at Chloe. “What he talking about, Lesa?”

“Baby, let me handle it from here,” Chloe begged, walking Audio to the door. Then she kissed him on the lips and Amico’s eyes widened.
Did she just kiss her brother?
“I won’t be long, baby, I promise.”

“So what you want ... me to leave you alone with this nigga?” He pointed. “You don’t even know this dude like that.”

“Please, Audio. This is for my sister.”

“Fuck this shit!” he yelled. “If this nigga kills you, don’t come crying to me!” He stormed out without saying goodbye.

She didn’t move until she heard the front door slam shut. When Audio was gone, Chloe turned around to look at Amico, who seemed scared and confused. She sat on the bed next to him, and rubbed his leg to put him at ease. “What’s up with your brother? He’s a little too overprotective. It’s almost like y’all fucking or something. I mean, he just kissed you on the lips.”

“We close like that.” she said, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. “What I wanna do now though is have fun with you. You up for it or what?”

“After we light this up.” He smiled, raising the blunt. He put fire to it, took a pull, and felt a calm rush immediately. “Damn!” He coughed and beat his chest twice. “This some good-ass shit right here.” He handed it to her. “So what you wanna do? I can’t stay long because I gotta get my peoples from the movies later. I’m the ride.”

“You don’t have to talk my head off, baby boy.” She smashed the blunt out in the ashtray. “The sooner we stop talking, the sooner we can fuck.”

He stood up, and eased out of his pants, boxers, and shirt before she had a chance to change her mind. Then he slid into the bed. “What you waiting on? Get undressed.”

Chloe jumped out of her clothes and cut the lights. The room was so dark they could not see each other. When she was asshole naked, she eased under the covers and rolled on top of his body. “You got a condom?” he asked. She could smell the weed coming off his breath. “I ain’t trying to have no baby by nobody I don’t know.”

Fucking wasn’t part of the game; she was just being freaked out. “Me either. That’s why I’m on the pill.” She moved to kiss him when he turned his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to get the rubber now.”

Chloe rolled off of him, reached in the darkness for a condom, and handed it to him with an attitude. “Put this shit on so we can get this over with. You acting real ungrateful.”

He quickly tore the packaging off and slipped his medium-sized dick into the condom. Then he reached for Chloe in the darkness, but she wasn’t next to him. “Where are you?” he said into the blackness. “Stop playing. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here,” she said on the other side of him.

“Wait ... how you get over there? What the fuck are you doing?” That was the last thing he said before she grabbed his wrist and stuck him with a syringe.

He jumped out of the bed and knocked her to the floor. His naked body fell on top of hers as he tried his best to get whatever she used to stick him out of her hand. Chloe hadn’t banked on him being so strong or on him fighting so hard for his life. Murder was trivial to her because she’d seen so many die that she’d grown careless. She forgot one thing: when she killed in the past, her family was always present. But now she was alone, battling with a man twice her size with a strong desire to live. Now she wished Audio hadn’t left after all.

Somewhere in the midst of her thoughts, Amico managed to get his hands around her throat. “Please don’t kill me, she begged softly. “I don’t wanna die like this. I was doing this for my sister! I didn’t want to hurt you!”

The more he squeezed, the lighter she felt. Chloe Cotton was dying and she was resigned to that fact until someone appeared in the doorway. She couldn’t see who it was, but she reached out for help.

Chapter 36

“You might not want this no more, but somebody else sure do!”

—The Clapper

The Clapper walked toward the only bedroom in her tiny apartment. She stood in the doorway and watched D.B. sleep peacefully in her bed. Even though their relationship was built on an understanding, and not love, she couldn’t help but fall for him. She wondered, if she were thirty years younger, would he be interested? Eleanor’s dream quickly came crashing down when she sat on the floor, spread her legs, and stuck the needle in her clit to get the best high of her life.

An hour later, when she saw him toss and turn, she walked inside the room and said, “Hungry?”

D.B. opened his eyes, stretched his muscular arms, and smiled. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the dog tags around his neck seemed to glisten against his dark skin. Her kindness came to him when he needed it the most, and he would forever be grateful. She didn’t know for sure if D.B. was his name when she found him on the side of the road, alone, injured, and cold. The name stuck because of the tattoo on his left bicep with the letters. His leg was broken, his shoulder was dislocated, and he could barely move for weeks without her assistance. But thanks to a phone call from Eleanor, she was able to get him the help he needed by sucking the dick of a friend, who was a doctor.

“I’m hungry as hell.” He rubbed his stomach. He sat on the edge of the twin bed and his large feet rested on the cold wooden floor. “What you cooking, ma?”

“Anything you want. You know that.” From where she stood, she could see his large dick through the leg of his boxers, and she desperately wanted a taste. “D.B.” She smiled slyly. “Can I make you feel better? Like I did when you couldn’t move?” She licked her lips.

D.B. felt bad for allowing her to blow him off in the past but he was in so much pain back then that the sexual release she provided was better than medicine. But now, with a clear mind and heart, things were different. He saw desperation in her eyes, and he didn’t want to use her any more than he already had.

“Eleanor, let’s not do that. I respect you and don’t want to do it again.”

Disappointment washed over her. “Okay.” Trying to skip the subject to clear the tension she said, “Do you remember anything yet? About who you are, and where you’re from?”

His head dropped and he said, “I’m getting some memory back ... not all.” He was careful about what he revealed to strangers.

When The Clapper heard a knock at the door she quickly rushed to answer it. When she opened it, Willie Gregory, the man who stole her heart and never gave it back, was looking at her. Instead of saying hello, the first thing he asked was, “How’s he doing?”

She sighed and said, “He’s fine, Willie.” She wished he stopped expressing an interest in her new friend. “I’m about to cook him something to eat now. So what you want?”

He walked in and she closed the door. “When you gonna tell me where you found that boy from?”

“I told you ... he was one of my customers.” She rested her fists on her hips. “Why do you keep asking about him anyway? I never saw you this much before.”

“Eleanor, that boy ain’t hardly pay you no money to see your old-ass butt cheeks flap together.”

She frowned and said, “Well, it’s true!” You might not want this no more, but somebody else sure do!” She paused. “Like I said, he was my customer, until he hurt himself and ended up at my house.” The more he didn’t believe her, the harder she pressed the issue. Originally her lie was born to make him jealous, but now she continued it to save face.

From the living room he looked at the man who didn’t know he was watching. “I don’t know about all that, but I do know one thing, Eleanor.” He smiled slyly. “That young man is going to come in handy. I’m sure of it.”

Chapter 37

“If you don’t want nobody else to get hurt, you better leave me out of this shit.”

—Slade

Slade sat in Markee’s living room with his brothers. A stone look rested on all of their faces as they waited for their mother to tell them on the speakerphone if Knox was dead or alive. Hours passed since a body showed up in DC, and still there was no word from Knox. It was becoming clearer to them that Sheriff Kramer had delivered him the same fate as their cousin Devon.

“This ain’t making no sense, Ma,” Slade said. “If the body wasn’t Knox’s, why he ain’t call us yet to give word? We checked and the body they found fits Knox’s description. They just haven’t released his name yet.” Slade stood, as his brothers occupied the couch space and the floor.

“I know that ain’t my oldest sounding like he’s giving up,” Della said. The brothers looked at Slade with hopeful eyes. If he fell apart, who else could they lean on? “So let me ask again, is that my oldest child losin’it?”

“Ma, I’m not losin it. I just gotta know where my brother is.”

“And so do I! How you think I feel that none of my children are here with me? Boy, I know you been up North for some time now, but please don’t forget where you came from. The South! You’re stronger than that shit up there. Besides, nameless dead black boys show up all the time there. It could be anybody. Stand strong! And that goes for all of you! I don’t want y’all faltering now. This Kramer bastard done stole enough of my life as it is, and it’s time that I get the rest back. Wherever Knox is, he can handle himself and he’ll be in contact soon. You hear what I’m saying, sons?”

“Yeah, Ma. We got you,” Slade said.

“Good. Now keep me posted on anything that goes down. Because until they bring me my baby ... dead or alive, then that means he is out there trying to get to us.”

“We love you, Ma,” the Baker Boys said one by one before ending the call.

Slade put his face in his hands and paced a few steps before looking at his younger siblings. They were waiting for him to say something, anything, to bring them through this, even though things looked grave. “Y’all heard Ma. We gotta toughen up and stay out of shit. We also gotta make sure that somebody is always here to take Knox’s call. No more running to the store and leaving the phone unattended.” He looked at Audio. “Shit is serious. It’s been serious.”

They nodded in agreement and after Slade’s speech, Markee walked over to him and said, “I know this a bad time, but can I talk to you for a second?”

Slade hadn’t said much to his cousin since he killed Tornado. Had Markee not tested his own family, none of the shit would have happened. Slade walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned up against it. It rocked a little because of his weight. “What you want, Markee?”

“People are asking questions about what happened to Tornado and I don’t know what to tell them.”

Slade took the spout from his lips and looked at his cousin. “What that got to do with me?”

“A lot, man,” he said in a low voice. “I mean ... you killed him in the hallway. In front of them girls down the hall and everything.”

“I fought the nigga straight up and he lost. What you want me to do now, raise him from the dead? None of that shit would have happened if you didn’t lose it!”

Markee sighed. “That’s not fair, Slade. You ain’t the one his family coming to every night, asking if you heard from him! I am!”

“Naw ... what ain’t fair is you bringing this shit up when you know I’m looking for my brother.” Slade pointed at him.

“I know, man ... you’re right.” He lowered his head. “But I’m out here by myself now. I ain’t got the family to back me, and the dude you killed was valuable to a lot of people! And people talking about raising money for the first person who finds out what happened.” He started crying. “I’m not trying to die, Slade. I wanna live. I still ain’t even got no kids yet.”

“What about the niggas he was with?” Slade inquired. “What they saying?”

“Well, they saying they don’t know what happened after they left. Trying to get my back. Tornado was beefing with some other niggas from around the way, so they said he could be anywhere. But my boss don’t believe it, and now he’s pressing them to press me. They told him the last time they saw him was when they were with me and you.”

Slade leaned his head back against the fridge. “Fuck! If you would’ve let them girls get dressed, we wouldn’t be going through this shit. This your fault, Markee.” Slade felt like knocking him out, but knew he couldn’t take his blows. “I came out here to get away from bullshit, and you put me in some shit in DC.” Slade’s voice rose, and his brothers walked toward the kitchen, preparing to break Markee off if he was starting shit again. When Slade saw them he said, “Everything cool, fellas.” They turned around and headed back to the living room. Speaking in a lower voice he said, “I don’t need this shit right now. I’m letting you know in advance. If you don’t want nobody else to get hurt, you better leave me out of this shit.”

“I need help.” Markee pleaded with his eyes. “I can’t leave you out of it! This dude is gonna kill me if you don’t help me out! Please, man! I’m your cousin!”

Slade was angry but he couldn’t let him go to war alone. Markee, whether he liked it or not, was blood. “What’s the nigga name you afraid of?”

“Randy George.”

Chapter 38

“I’m glad you laughing, bitch. I doubt very seriously that you’ll last two weeks.”

—Farah

Farah was in Chloe’s bedroom looking at the dead man on the floor. Standing around her were Mia and Shadow. Chloe was on the bed with her face in her hands as she cried her eyes out. “Shadow, make sure that door is locked,” Farah said, eyes still glued on the man, his red blood running into her carpet. “We don’t need that bitch coming home and coming into this room.”

Shadow locked the door and the sound of his sister crying fucked his mind up. It wasn’t like he didn’t save her life by coming in at the right time. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t killed before. “Chloe, stop that shit! You making me mad ... The nigga dead so get over it.”