Authors: Silhouettes
Street Soldier 2 (13 page)
I ignored Raylo, and asked Ernie where his money was. He was sweating bullets and did his best to remain calm.
“Be ... behind the bar. Open the bottom cabinet, and inside of there is a safe. The combination is 36-25-14-90. You can take whatever is inside.”
Right now was when I was supposed to shoot Ernie in the head, but I told Raylo I was against it. He side-eyed me and took a deep breath. I kept with my own plan, and instead, I lifted the gun and cracked Ernie hard against the back of his head. He touched his head and blood was on his fingers. “Please,” he begged as I hit him again, this time staggering him to the floor. The last blow knocked him out cold. He fell flat on the floor and didn't move. The open gash on the back of his head was gushing with blood, but I still didn't believe he was dead. Raylo and I rushed over to the bar. We opened the cabinet and saw the safe that Ernie had mentioned.
“Hurry up and open it,” Raylo said.
I remembered the combination, but after trying it three times, the damn thing wouldn't open.
“Take your time,” Raylo said, breathing heavy. “36, 25, 14, then 90.”
I tried again, no luck. Raylo pushed me aside, then tried himself. He didn't have any luck either.
“Damn it,” he shouted. “I know that motherfucka didn't lie, did he?”
Raylo started to panic and so did I. “You was supposed to shoot to kill that nigga!” he shouted. “Now we gotta go search for some shit and I don't want to leave this fool lyin' here with breath still in him. Go take that fool out so we can go find what we came here for.”
Just then, my phone rang. I knew it was Poetry by the sound of the ringtone. I wanted to curse her ass out for constantly calling me, and as nervous as I was right now, I could have hurt somebody. Thing was, I didn't want it to be Ernie. “Fuck it,” I said to Raylo. “I don't want to be runnin' around here ransackin' this nigga's crib all night. We were supposed to be in and out of here and that shit wasn't in the plans.”
“Neither was knockin' him upside his fuckin' head. Now, go do like I told you to. I'ma go upstairs to see what I can find.”
I wasn't one to take orders, and Raylo knew it. My face twisted as I stood mean mugging his ass. “I'm not killin' no damn body. I said it's time to switch to plan B, so let's go!”
Ernie squirmed around on the floor, then turned over to lie on his back. He was out of it, but was definitely alive. Raylo snatched my gun from on top of the safe, then went over to Ernie. He stood over him, and without hesitation, pumped two right into his head. Ernie's body wiggled, then his breathing stopped. Some of his blood splattered on Raylo, and with each shot, my whole body jumped.
“Help me get the goddamn safe and let's carry it out of here,” he said. “That's the least you can do. I hope you ain't too chicken to help me carry the damn thing.”
None of this was sitting right with me, but I went ahead and helped Raylo carry the heavy safe to the car. I waited outside while he went back in, wiping down a few things and bringing his drinking glass with him. He tossed my gun into my lap and slammed the car door.
“This is why I don't fuck with scary-ass niggas like you,” he said, backing up and speeding out of Ernie's driveway.
I didn't even respond. We drove back to Mama's house in silence, and when we got there, we both carried the safe inside. Raylo put it on the coffee table and sat on the couch. I stood next to it, watching as he took several deep breaths before attempting to open the safe again. Still no luck.
“I can't believe this shit!” he said. “Damn!”
“I'm sure we can get somebody to open it, so what's the big deal?”
Raylo cocked his head back and looked at me as if I called him out of his name. “If I have to take this safe to somebody, then they'll want a piece of what's inside. Not only that, they'll question me about how I got it. I don't know about you, but I don't tell niggas out here everything I do. Now, we need to figure out how to get this damn thing open, as I'm sure everything we need to get your mama back, and then some, is inside.”
I let out a deep sigh, then sat next to Raylo on the couch. I kept trying and trying to open the safe, and when I heard it click, we eyeballed each other. Nervous, I slowly pulled on the heavy door and looked inside. That's when I got the shock of my life, as the damn thing was empty. Raylo stuck his hand inside, then slammed his fist on top of it.
“Ain't this about a bitch! I told you we should've searched his house, didn't I!”
I was speechless, as our plan had failedâbig time.
“We need to go back over there and see what else we can get!” Raylo suggested. “I'm not goin' out like this, and Shante will die if we don't come up with G's money! Are you with me in this or not?”
I wiped my eyes and squeezed my forehead. My head was banging and this was too damn much for me to deal with right now. “I'm not goin' back to that man's house. I'm sure that somebody heard those shots and the police may already be there. You can go back, but I already know what I gotta do. I'm goin' to go see G in the mornin'. I'll pay him what I got and we can go from there.”
I got up and walked out. Raylo continued to talk shit, but I tuned him out.
“You ol' scary-ass nigga,” he yelled. “Prince, you ain't shit! I thought yo' ass was about somethin'! Let's go back over there and get what we can. Come on!”
I kept on moving. If Raylo decided to go with me tomorrow, cool. If not, so be it.
All I really wanted to do was go home and lay back until tomorrow. But since I didn't want to upset Poetry, I was on my way to her house. Either way, it was time for G to tell me what was up with Mama, and, hopefully, the money that I'd give him would be enough. After all was said and done, I had $90,000 that I could give him and still keep some for myself. I hoped like hell it would be enough, and if not, I just had to chalk it all up and be completely broke.
I parked my car in front of Poetry's house, slowly making my way to the door with my head hanging low. Ernie's dead body kept flashing before me, and so were my thoughts of Mama. Raylo had sent me a text, telling me not to make a move to G's place without him. Said he'd be at my place by nine in the morning, and since it was almost eleven at night, I wasn't sure when I'd be able to get some rest.
Poetry opened the door wearing a baby doll satin white bustier corset with matching G-string panties. A garter held up her white stockings and when she turned around, all ass was in my view. Her tiny breasts barely filled the top of the corset, but she looked sexy as hell. I walked in, closing the door behind me, almost in shock. A staircase was right there, leading to the upper level. But Poetry had made her way to the left, which was the living room. Several scented candles were lit throughout, the couch was pulled out into a neatly made bed, chilled wine in a bucket was on the table, and the melodies of Trey Songz were kicking it up in the background. Poetry kneeled on the floor next to the table and started to pour a glass of wine. “It's about time,” she said, holding the flute glass out to me. “Come in and have a seat. Don't be scared. I promise I won't bite.”
As gorgeous as she looked, and after all of her efforts, I was not with this tonight. I didn't know whether to tell her now or tell her later. I walked sluggishly into the room, keeping my hands in my pockets. I stood next to her, and as she looked up at me with those pretty hazel-green eyes, I touched the side of her face. She was so damn pretty, and in no way did I deserve to have a chick like her in my life. I knew it, but didn't know how to say it. Instead, I leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her lips. The taste was so sweet, and as our tongues intertwined she rose to her feet. I eased my arms around her waist and my hands lowered to squeeze her bare ass. It was damn sure meaty and I had a handful.
“Take your clothes off,” she whispered. “Or, do you want me to do it?”
After touching and kissing her, I was so sure my mind would clear. But the more I tried, I started feeling as if I was having an anxiety attack, thinking about what had just happened and Mama. I backed away from Poetry, and rubbed my face hard with my hands.
“I'm sorry, ma, but I ... I have got to get out of here.” I turned to walk away.
Poetry reached out for my arm, grabbing it. “What's up with you, Prince?” Frustration as well as confusion was all over her face. Her brows arched inward and her eyes watered. “I can't believe you're getting ready to walk out of here without giving me an explanation as to why.”
I pulled my arm away from her grip, wanting so badly to tell her what was going on, but couldn't. “I just need to go,” I said. “Don't take it personal.”
I walked to the door and Poetry followed me outside. She was mad as hell, and quite frankly, I couldn't blame her. “Why, Prince?” she yelled as I got in my car. She held the door so I wouldn't close it. I avoided her by looking straight ahead. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I go through all of this, just for you, and this is how you play me! You need to tell me what the fuck is up, or don't worry about calling me again!”
Several horns blew, and some fools were yelling out the window at Poetry. “Goddamn!” one brotha shouted and whistled.
Another actually stopped his car, “Daaaaamn, sexy, you need a ride?”
Poetry rolled her eyes, telling him, “No, thank you.”
He slowly drove away, but she couldn't get another word out because niggas kept driving by, hollering out at her. “How much?” one man stopped to say.
I had had enough and that's when I turned to her. “Would you go inside before I have to get out of my car and hurt somebody? I can't tell you what's goin' on right now, but I will do so soon. I thank you for goin' all out like this tonight, but I need to go.”
Poetry stood for a moment, staring at me. All she did was shake her head, then ran off to go inside. I watched as she closed the door, then turned off the porch light. I felt bad for what I had done, and the whole damn day had been fucked up. Hopefully, after tomorrow, I'd be able to piece my life back together and stop it from spiraling out of control.
Chapter Ten
The Girl Is Mine, Even Though I Don't Want Her To Be ...
Raylo and I sat face-to-face with G in his living room. He had just counted the money, and along with Raylo's $5,000, we had presented him with $95,000 for the safe return of Mama.
“What say you?” Raylo said to G as he sat in silence.
“It's all we could come up with and I'ma need you to make a move and tell us where Shante is.”
G yawned, then sat back on the couch. “I don't know why you and soldier boy believe y'all can come over here and tell me what to do, when you don't have the money that I asked for, nor do you have the prize in your possession. The money you niggas brought me is chump change, and I need a few minutes to see if I can work with this.”
“You can, and you will,” Raylo charged. “Now, if I have to make arrangements to pay the rest to you later, I will. But you need to know that it ain't easy comin' up with the kind of money you asked for. We gave you all that we had and it's gon' have to be enough!”
“Slow yo' roll, Ray. I'll decide if it'll be enough, and if I decide to make arrangements with you about gettin' the rest of it later, yo' ass betta pay up. If you don't, I got a whole lot of niggas out there antsy about puttin' you and your Street Soldier to rest. Now, sit for a minute. I'll be right back.”
G got up and went into the other room. Raylo turned to me, suggesting that I remain calm and let him do the talking. He could see my leg shaking and he knew that I wanted to get up, blow G's brains out, and call it a day. I was sure Mama would understand, as all of this back and forth bullshit was working my nerves.
Ten minutes later, G came back into the living room with his cell phone pressed against his ear. “Tell that bitch to calm down,” he said. “I'm gettin' sick of hearin' her mouth.”
“Is that my mama?” I asked, sitting up from my slumped position on the couch. “Let me holla at her, all right?”
G ignored me and kept on talking. Minutes later, he laid the phone down and looked at Raylo. “For now, we got a deal. But every month, until I'm paid up, I need you to bring me a li'l somethin'. The longer you take, the longer this problem lingers on. Once I get all of my money, everybody will be happy, nobody has to know about the dead millionaire in Hathaway Manor, nor about my brother who was slaughtered in a bathroom. We can call it a good day.” He swiped his hands together. “And go live happily ever after.”
“That's all fine and dandy, but we need to hear from Shante,” Raylo said. “Ain't no way in hell I'm leavin' you with all this money, and we don't know where she's at.”
G slid the phone across the table to Raylo. “She's where she's been all along,” he said. “At home. Call her.”
Raylo dialed Mama's phone and put the phone on speakerphone so I could hear. A man answered and Raylo asked who he was. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “Here, bitch, say somethin'.”
“Hello,” Mama said. “I'm fine, but please come getâ”
“There you have it,” the man said and hung up.
Raylo looked at me, but something didn't seem right to me. I guess it didn't seem right to Raylo either, as he dialed the number again. G snatched the phone from his hand. “We're done doin' business,” he said. “Don't forget about the rest of my money, and do me a favor: try to enjoy your day. After all, Mama's home.”
I got up from my seat, still feeling fucked up inside. All of my money was on the table and would soon be in his hands. Raylo and I moved quickly to his car, running almost every stoplight that we could to get to Mama's house. When we got there, the front door was wide open. I rushed in, yelling for Mama.
“Mama,” I yelled, making my way back to her room, since there was no sign of her in the living room or kitchen. I got no answer, and when I opened the door to her bedroom, it looked the same as it was before. My stomach dropped, and as I checked my room, the bathroom, and the basement, she wasn't there. I wondered where Raylo was. When I went into the kitchen, that's when I saw him sitting calmly in the kitchen chair with a voice recorder in his hand. He hit the play button, and that's when we heard Mama's voice say what we'd heard earlier and what I'd heard a while back. We'd been set the fuck up! Raylo stood, throwing the recorder into the wall and breaking it. I was so mad that I punched my fist into the wall, causing a gaping hole.
“Where in the fuck is she?” I yelled. A slow tear rolled down my face and I started to lose it. “Damn, Mama, where are you!” I dropped to my knees and my emotions ran over. Raylo stood next to me, gripping my shoulder and squeezing it.
“Hang in there,” he said. “Don't go out like this, man, we'll find her.”
I wiped the tears and snot from my nose. My body was shaking and I couldn't control myself. “When?” I asked. “When we gon' find her? She probably dead, man. All because of me ... I know she's dead.”
“No, she ain't,” Raylo said, still trying to console me. “Let's put our heads together and figure out what we need to do. We ain't goin' out like this and these niggas gonna pay for playin' games with us. First, we need to go back to G's and get our money. I know he ain't gon' let us back in, but he gotta come out some time. And when he does, we need to be prepared to catch his ass and blow some shit up. I'm tired of playin' games, and if somebody has hurt my Shante, those fools gon' pay.”
“I'm tired, too. Sick and tired of all of this!” I stood and wiped the tears from my face.
“I know you've been through a lot, Prince. And what I want you to do is go back home and chill. I'ma make some phone calls and hook up with some of my partners. I'll tell them what happened and we gon' case the area where G lives. As soon as I get him, I'll call you so you can come and deal with him personally. This may take some time, as I'm sure him and his goons are expectin' us to run over there right now and deal with them. We gotta be smart, though. Catch 'em unexpectedly. I don't know how Shante is ever goin' to make her way back to us, but we gotta deal with them right now. So sit tight. Don't make no moves unless you consult me first.”
I was out of ideas and felt drained. And whatever Raylo came up with, I was down with it. For now, though, I left to go lay my head down for a while as it was hurting so badly.
When I got back to my apartment, my eyes were red and puffy. I pushed the button on the elevator, and as I waited for it to open, I saw Francine hugged up with another one of her sugar daddies. She never did bring me that lasagna, and I guessed since I wasn't down with sucking her pussy, she decided to cut me off. That was fine by me, and as soon as the elevator opened, I got on and headed upstairs. I opened my door, fell back on the couch, and turned again to the man above who really didn't seem to give a damn about me. Why I continued to go there ... I didn't know.
The constant ringing of my cell phone awakened me. When I looked at it, the time showed 3:15
A.M.
, and the call was from Raylo. I hurried to answer in a groggy tone. “What's up?”
A.M.
, and the call was from Raylo. I hurried to answer in a groggy tone. “What's up?”
“Them niggas gone, Prince. We had been watchin' G's place all night until I decided to bombard a woman who lived there and followed her inside. We had to be careful because of the cameras, but when we got to G's door, and kicked it down, the whole damn place was empty. I'm sure they knew we were comin' back and decided to get the hell out of dodge before we did. If he still in the Lou, he will be found. Don't worry, and I promise you we will find that nigga before he gets too far away with our money.”
I sat up straight, rubbing my eyes. “What about Mama? Anything on her?”
Raylo was silent for a while, then he spoke up. “One of Shante's nightgowns was found in G's loft. It had bloodstains all over it, and was the same one she wore the night she left. I don't *know ...” He paused.
“All right,” I said, wanting to hear no more. “Appreciate the call.”
I hung up and dropped my head. I rubbed my hair, trying to squeeze it. All kinds of pain ran through me, and even though Mama's and my relationship hadn't been the best over the years, there was no doubt that I loved her. I would never forgive myself for bringing hurt to her like this, and it was time for me to face the fact that she might not be coming home. I leaned back on the couch, holding my chest and releasing more emotions.
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Three weeks had gone by, and Mama or no Mama, the sun was still shining. My life, however, was like living in hell. I couldn't understand my purpose for living and I hated life more than ever. Nate was doing his best to cheer me up, not knowing anything about all that had happened. I kept everything on the hush-hush, because if there ever came a time when I had to make a move and settle things my own way, I didn't want anything to trace back to me. Nate kept pressing me about what was going on with me, but my only explanation was money. It was, indeed, tight, but I was doing whatever to make more of it. That included me asking Poetry to take over for me at the laundromat three days a week. I had overexerted myself, and with so much on my mind, my attitude wasn't that great. I had been going off on my customers, losing business by the day. I figured Poetry could do a much better job than me, and she seemed to get along better with the women who came in to wash.
As for the liquor store, Nate was still handling things well. I didn't want to make any changes with that, because it was the bulk of where my money came from. Freeing up my days at the laundromat gave me time to do my own investigation behind the setup. I'd gone to G's loft myself and, sure enough, he was gone. I asked questions to several people hanging around, but no one knew nothing. I went to some of the local hangouts, trying to see if I saw him anywhere, but had no luck. I wasn't going to give up until I knew what had happened to Mama.
Raylo seemed to stay at it on his end too. He stayed in touch about who he talked to and what kind of leads he had. Nothing checked out as of yet, but one day, soon, either he was going to get a breakthrough or I was.
Nate tossed me a soda before I locked the door to head back over to the laundromat. I had been thinking about downsizing and moving the laundromat to a smaller place. I was on my way to go see the other building, but planned to stop by to tell Poetry I was leaving. She was still upset with me about playing her that night, but when I offered her a job, she jumped on it. I only paid her $200 a week, but that was good enough for her. Nate stopped me on my way out the door.
“If you want me to go check out the building with you I can. I can shut it down here for an hour or so, just to give you my thoughts on if you should change locations,” Nate said.
I needed every dime I could get, so closing the store didn't make sense to me. “Nah, I'm good. If I think it may be a good move, I'll let you see it before I sign any papers. I'll check back later.”
Nate got back to my customers and I left. As I walked across the street, I saw Poetry standing outside with a dude wearing army gear. Black boots were on his feet and a cap was lowered on his bald head. He was leaned against a blue Saturn. I remembered her mentioning her ex-boyfriend, Anthony, who had dissed her and married someone else. I wondered if it was him. Poetry was all smiles as she looked at him, and whatever he was saying to her, it kept her laughing. I crossed the street, walking right by them as I entered the laundromat. I grabbed a bag of chips from one of the vending machines, and went into my office to eat them and drink my soda. As I looked at my watch, I had thirty minutes to get to my appointment with the man who owned the other building I was considering. I waited for a few minutes, wondering if Poetry was going to wrap up her conversation. Ten minutes later she did, and came into my office.
“Do you need me to stay or will you be here for the rest of the day?” she asked.
“Why?” I asked, smacking loudly on the chips. “You got somethin' else to do?”
“No. But if you're paying me to be here, it doesn't make sense for you to be here too.”
“I'm leavin' in a few to go take care of some things. But, uh, who was ol' boy you was outside talkin' to?”
“That was Anthony. He's home for a while and stopped by to say hello.”
“How did he know you were here?”
“I told him. I know you ain't trippin', Prince, and until you come clean about you and your skeletons, you shouldn't have no say-so about who I talk to.”
“I don't, but you're the one who said that he played the shit out of you. I can't believe you're runnin' back to a married man. It kind of surprises me, and I didn't think you were that desperate or, to be frank, stupid.”
Her hand touched her hip. “Look, he just came to say hello, and you need to watch your mouth calling me desperate and stupid. Besides, ain't nothing going on between us, but if it was, it's none of your business. You showed me that you ain't feeling this, and all I'm here to do is make my money and be gone. ”
I stood up, crumbled the chips bag in my hand, and downed the rest of my soda. I tossed the can in a trash can and stood next to Poetry before making my way out. “Don't invite that nigga here again. Meet up with him at your house, and if you pull that shit again, you're goin' to see a side of me that you may not like.”
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