In My Hood (23 page)

“Bobby, what are you doing here?” Bowen asked.

“Well, I was waiting for the owner of this really nice house,” Cohen said, looking around and realizing how laid the crib was. “I think I might just go into the drug business instead.” He stroked the Italian furniture.

The hit man began to inch backward when Cohen sensed him trying to escape.

“Hold on there, buddy. Going somewhere?” Cohen moved forward, pointing his .40 Glock at him.

“Come on, Bobby. Give me break here,” Bowen pleaded.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Arnie.”

Cohen walked cautiously toward the two men.

“Don’t move,” he told the hit man. “Well, well, well, I see we got us a double homicide, Arnie.” He looked at the two bodies.

“Ay, come on, Bobby.” Bowen held out his hands, still holding the gun.

“Whoa, dropped the gun, buddy.”

Bowen placed the gun on the shiny hardwood floor while holding his other hand up.

“Now kick it over here,” Cohen instructed.

Bowen did as he was told. The gun whisked across the floor, spinning, and finally coming to a stop at Cohen’s feet. He picked up the gun.

“What are you doing, Bobby? Hey, man, we can do just like before. What percentage do you want?” Bowen smiled nervously.

The hit man eyed the two men as they talked.

“There were three of them. Where’s the other one? Did you off him too?” Cohen asked.

“No. We don’t know where he is. We were going to see if he was upstairs,” Bowen said, panting.

“Well, let’s just go find out where he is. After you, gentlemen.” Cohen smiled.

The closer he got, the more Bowen could smell the Bourbon that seeped through his pores.

Bowen turned to go up the stairs first.

“After you,” Cohen said to the hit man.

Like a thief in the night, the hit man spun around and grabbed Cohen’s hand that held the gun. He twisted his arm so that the gun was positioned right in his stomach. Before Cohen knew what hit him, he placed his finger around Cohen’s and pumped the lead into his belly until the clip was empty, then he grabbed Bowen’s gun, which had fallen to the floor and pointed it at Bowen.

“What are you doing?” Bowen asked with his hands in the air.

“You set me up,” the hit man said in demonic tone.

“No I didn’t,” Bowen said, pissing in his pants.

“How does this man keep finding out what we’re doing?”

“I don’t know, but I swear I didn’t set you up,” Bowen continued to plead.

The hit man fired off three shots into Bowen’s chest. He fell to the floor lying next to Cohen. He placed the gun next to Bowen, stripped off his gloves, stuffed them in his pocket, and left the house.

***************

Niles was standing at a pay phone. His heart was racing. He didn’t know what to do. He was calling Ishmael to get help. He knew what would happen if Ishmael found out that he tried to rob him and set him up, so he decided to rat out Zola and Damon.

“Who dis?” Ishmael asked.

“It’s me Niles, man.”

“What’s up? Where all y’all niggaz at? I called the drop house and everybody is there but you and D. I can’t get in touch with Rik. What the fuck is going on?” he shouted, vexed.

“Ishmael man, I need to see you like yesterday. Damon did some foul shit, and I just found out about it.”

“What?”

“Man, just come get me. I don’t want to tell you over this box. It might be tapped.”

Niles told Ishmael where he was. Ishmael turned off the TV and jetted out the door. He jumped into his truck and peeled off, tires screeching up the street. The car that sat on the corner pulled out behind him.

Ishmael’s mind was racing just as fast as he drove his whip through the streets. He ran several red lights in the process. Desiree didn’t show up at the house. He had no way of contacting her and didn’t know if something had happened to her. He decided to make a phone call back to the crib and leave her a message just in case she came home while he was gone. After placing the call, he tried Derrick’s cell phone again. This time someone picked up the line but there was silence.

“Hello? Hello?” he shouted into the phone. “Rik?”

The line went dead, so he redialed the number, and the voice mail automatically came on.

“What the fuck is going on?” he shouted.

Ishmael was losing his cool, which was something he never did.

He pulled up to the corner where Niles instructed him to pick him up, but he wasn’t there. Ishmael looked around and didn’t see him. The vehicle that was following him was sitting three blocks back with the headlights turned off.

Ishmael began to drive off when he heard Niles shout out his name. He slammed on the brakes and backed up. Niles appeared from behind a building and ran low to the ground and jumped into the truck. Once inside, he laid the seat all the way back.

“Fuck is up with you?” Ishmael asked, confused, pulling off from the curb.

“Man, shit is hectic out here.”

“What?” Ishmael shouted, tired of all the trivia.

“Man, your boy D . . . I found out he did some fucked-up shit.”

“I don’t have time for the bullshit.”

“Ish, I heard D and Zola talking. They didn’t know I was listening, but they said that they was going to yo’ crib and rob the safe,” Niles said, trying to sound convincing so Ishmael wouldn’t know he was part of the scheme and go bonkers on his ass.

“What?” Ishmael looked at him. “I’ma go over there. They there now? That grimy bitch. I knew I should have cancelled her ass.”

“Naw, man, don’t go there. I followed them over to yo’ crib, and I think five-O got ’em. The cops rolled up to your crib like ten deep, so I hauled ass,” Nile exaggerated.

“Word?”

“Word, man.”

“Shit,” Ishmael retorted.

“That ain’t it, Ish.” Niles looked scared.

Ishmael looked at him with evil eyes. He was so pissed that the veins in his neck were bulging.

“Ish, they kidnapped your girl,” he said, closing his eyes, waiting for the explosion.

“What?” Ishmael yelled, slamming on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt. “Fuck is you talking about?”

“Man, I heard them say that shit. I don’t know, man,” Niles stuttered.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that shit from the rip? I don’t give a fuck about no paper. My girl is more important than that,” he yelled, snatching the boy up.

“Ish! I know, man, but I’m scared. All them cops at your crib got me spooked.”

Ishmael let him go. He looked at Niles with unsure eyes.

“Where she at?” he asked calmly.

“I’ll show you. Make a left at the corner.” Niles pointed, never taking his eyes off Ishmael.

“P
ark over here.” Niles had Ishmael park two houses down from the abandoned property. Ishmael looked over at Niles as he turned off the vehicle. Niles looked at him then quickly turned away. They got out of the truck and walked toward the abandoned house.

They walked around the back. Ishmael pulled out his hammer, ready to let off. Niles pulled the board that was covering the door to the side. He squeezed in, and Ishmael followed.

It was pitch black in the house. Up ahead, light was seeping through the doorjamb of a room. Ishmael tripped over whatever was on the floor several times while Niles knew where to step, avoiding the trash.

Niles opened the door and walked inside with Ishmael on his tail. When Ishmael looked at Desiree, his heart sank. She was dirty, and her hair was all over her head. He was ready to cry at the sight of his true love.

“Aw damn, baby.” He ran over to her.

When Desiree heard his voice, she began to cry and scream through the bandana that was over her mouth. Ishmael kissed her face and pulled off the bandana. He removed the blindfold from her eyes.

“Oh, baby.” He kissed her deeply.

She cried and kissed her man, happy to see him. He began to try and loosen the ropes.

“Ishmael, what is going on?” she questioned.

“I don’t know, baby, but please believe somebody gonna pay for this shit.”

“Why did they do this to me? Are you in some trouble?” She continued to cry.

“No, baby, I’m not in any trouble.” He struggled with the ropes.

Ishmael removed his pocketknife and began to cut the ropes. Once Desiree was free, she leaped into his arms, and they embraced passionately.

“Rae, I need you to be straight with me, baby. Did you see any faces?”

“I barely saw their faces. They had on disguises. Ishmael, who would do something like this to me?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

He held his head low. “Rae, it was Zola, my ex, and D, one of my boys.”

“Your ex? Why would she want to kill me?”

“Rae, she’s a crazy bitch. That’s why I cut her loose.”

“And this other guy was supposed to be your boy?”

“Yeah exactly, supposed to be,” he agreed. “Rae, there is so much going on, and I can’t figure none of it out. My boy Rik is missing.” He shook his head.

“But Ishmael, you mentioned two people, and there were three—two guys and one female.” Desiree looked puzzled.

“Three?” he asked her, confused.

“Yeah. I’m sure there were three.”

“You sure, baby, because my man Niles over there told me it was Damon and Zola.”

They both looked at each other then at Niles who was leaning against the wall in deep thought. Ishmael stood and pointed his hammer at Niles.

“Ishmael, no. What are you doing? He brought you here to save me,” Desiree screamed, pulling his arm.

This broke Niles out of his thoughts and made him aware that Ishmael was pointing his gun at him.

“You’s a punk-ass nigga,” Ishmael growled.

“Ish, what’s up, man?” Niles stuttered, ready to shit his pants.

“You tell me, nigga.”

“Yo, man, I didn’t do anything,” Niles said, panicking.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, man, it wasn’t me. How you know Rik ain’t have nothing to do with this? He’s the one missing,” Niles retorted.

Ishmael stood there contemplating what Niles just said. No, his boy wouldn’t do that to him. They were boys. But where was he? He’d been MIA for days now. He never returned any of his calls. Ishmael hated to think that his boy would do something like that to him. He had no reason, but then again maybe he wanted his spot. It happened all the time.

While he thought about what Niles had said, Desiree was staring at Niles with wide eyes as if she had seen a ghost.

“Oh my God,” Desiree said with her hand to her mouth.

“What is, baby?” Ishmael asked.

“That voice. He was one of them,” she screamed.

“What?” Ishmael looked back at her.

“She lying, Ish. I didn’t have shit to do with it.” Niles stumbled over his words.

Something didn’t smell right, and it was Niles.

“You calling my girl a liar?” Ishmael moved closer to Niles, still pointing the hammer at him.

“No, Ish!” Niles began to cry.

“Don’t bitch up now, nigga. You gonna wear this one,” he growled.

Ishmael’s eyes appeared to glow in the dark, and Niles began to plead and beg for his life.

“Ishmael baby, don’t do this,” Desiree tried to reason. “He ain’t worth it. I’m alright now. Let’s just call the police.”

But Ishmael wasn’t hearing her. He had transformed.

“You want to fuck me and mine? Nigga, you don’t know by now not to fuck with me?” Ishmael’s voice had changed; he was another person. He was anyone’s worst nightmare.

Desiree stood there looking at the man she loved and didn’t recognize him. This odd behavior sent chills through her body. She knew he was going to kill the boy, and there was nothing she could do about it. She didn’t want Niles to lose his life although earlier she feared she was going to lose hers. She did remember when he said he didn’t want to have anything to do with killing her, so she felt his life should be spared. She just wanted to get out of the scary house, but Ishmael was another person, and she dared not try to stop him. He might turn the gun on her.

Niles was crying like a baby. Snot was running out his nose and slob fell from his bottom lip. He continued to plead and beg, but Ishmael didn’t hear him.

Ishmael was calm but he looked dangerously deranged. He stood there glaring at Niles with cold eyes.

“Ishmael, please, I would never do anything to hurt your girl, please.” He made a last attempt.

Ishmael pointed the gun directly at his head. With a smile, he shouted, “See you in hell, baby” before he pulled the trigger.

He shot Niles in the head, and when his body fell to the floor, he pumped two more into his chest.

Desiree was in shock. She began to cry, and her entire body shook. He turned and looked at her.

“You a’ight, baby?” he asked as if he didn’t just murder a man at point-blank range.

He began to walk toward her. She backed up and almost fell over the chair that was behind her.

“Get away from me,” she yelled.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Get the fuck away from me, you murderer,” she cried.

“Rae, that mafucka was gonna to kill you. I’ll do anything for you,” he tried to convince her.

“You bastard!” She could barely breathe. “You killed my friends!” She coughed.

“Rae, what are you talking about?” He stepped closer to her.

“It was you. It all makes sense now. The violet candy . . . I remember now.” She began moving closer to the door to get away from him. “It was you. You killed Tracey and Roc.”

When he said those words—“See you in hell, baby”—that horrible day came back to her. She remembered him saying those exact words before killing Roc. She remembered smelling the violets on his breath.

“Come on, baby. You’re just scared right now. Listen to what you’re saying. Come here.” He tried to comfort her.

How the fuck did she know? What did he do to let her know it was him who killed her friends? He had to convince her otherwise. He just couldn’t lose another love, he argued with himself in his head.

“Baby, how could I have killed your friends? Think about it. I didn’t even know them,” he pleaded.

“You are a sick bastard. Just stay away from me. I wish I would have never met you, you fuckin’ murderer.” She was frantic.