Trap House (27 page)

Tiffany felt no fear. Instead, a smile spread across her face.
No more pain,
she thought and
closed her eyes. She felt no pain when the shot rang out. The next shot caused her to open her eyes,
and she could see that the bullets were coming from two of Red’s sons, who had just pulled up.

Instead of running away, Marcus pulled a second forty-caliber and ran toward them, with both
guns blazing. He caught a round to his torso that didn’t even slow him down. By the time he
reached the curb, his guns were empty and his attackers deceased.

Two police officers who were patting down a shoplifter across the street watched the entire
gunfight in shock. They abandoned the petty collar and rushed to join the fray.

Marcus pointed his guns at the approaching officers, who instinctively ducked for cover. Marcus
repeatedly pulled the triggers of the empty weapons.

When the officers realized that he was out of ammo, they moved in. The young white cop,
looking for his first kill, raised his gun to fire. He had been anticipating killing a suspect since the
academy, and now he had the chance. If his partner had not hit him first with a TASER, Marcus
would have been dead. The 50,000 volts of electricity dropped him to the pavement, shaking and
slobbering.

Miraculously, Tiffany, who hadn’t budged during the entire shootout, was unharmed. When the
shooting stopped, she came out of her trance and made a move toward her car.

The first of what would eventually be dozens of police cars pulled up, blocking her car. She
aborted that plan and walked up the street. A bus pulled to a stop, and Tiffany quickly fell in line
to board it. When she settled back into her seat, she realized she was headed in the direction of her
parents’ house. Tiffany was headed home.

* * *

“Oh my God! Thank you, Jesus!” Mrs. Williams screamed at the sight of her daughter standing
at the door. She squeezed Tiffany so tightly that all the air rushed from her lungs. “Let me see
you!” she said, pulling away to inspect her child. The drastic changes she saw brought tears to her
eyes. Tiffany had lost a great deal of weight and looked ashen. However, she could not see the
majority of the damage because it was internal. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” Mrs. Williams
said, embracing her child again. “Mama got you now.”

The show of affection caused Tiffany to begin crying as well. The two women stood there at the
front door, hugging and crying, until Mrs. Williams pulled her inside.

“First, let me fix you something to eat,” Tiffany’s mother said, dragging her toward the kitchen.
“Me and your daddy gon’ help you. Everything gon’ be all right,” her mother rattled on. She was
pulling out half of the refrigerator to heat up for her child as she spoke.

“Noooo!” Tiffany screamed, startling her busy mother.

“What? What’s wrong, baby?” her mother asked, unaware that she was talking to Tiffany’s
demons and not Tiffany herself.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, Mama. I’m sorry,” Tiffany said, embarrassed by the outburst.

“Do it! Take it!”
the demon demanded as the monkey on her back began squealing in her ears.
The combination of the two destructive forces caused Tiffany to close her eyes in a futile attempt
to block them out.

“Oh, where is my phone? Let me call your daddy,” Tiffany’s mother said, looking around. “I’ll
be right back, baby,” she said, remembering that she had left it on her dresser. She rushed off to
retrieve it.

“That’s right,”
the demon said, comforting Tiffany as she lifted her mother’s purse from the
kitchen counter. She grabbed the wallet and key before slipping into the garage as her mother
descended the stairs.

“Baby?” Mrs. Williams called out curiously, looking around the empty kitchen. Her eyes focused
on her open purse when she heard the garage door begin to open and her car start.

“Tiffany!” she asked, opening the door to the garage. Mrs. Williams grabbed the door handle
of the car and made eye contact with her daughter. She realized she was looking into the eyes of a
stranger. She was slow releasing the handle and got dragged out of the garage. Mrs. Williams lost
her grip and tumbled down the driveway as her daughter sped off in her car.

CHAPTER 26

M
arcus spent over a month in Grady Hospital recuperating from the gunshot wound that
had almost killed him. To his dismay, he pulled through. His only consolation was that
the state was seeking the death penalty. He was tired of his life and ready to go. Neighboring
Dekalb County had linked his guns to two murders and was in line to prosecute him as well.

It was pure coincidence that his first court date fell on the same day in front of the same judge
as P.I.G.’s, who had been arrested and charged with the drugs found in his yard. P.I.G.’s lawyers
assured him that the charges would be dropped. After all, the drugs and money were found outside,
on Marcus. They knew he’d robbed P.I.G., but they also knew no one could prove it. Of course,
P.I.G. wasn’t gonna tell them he’d gotten robbed for the four kilos.

Marcus’s mother, along with his sister and her kids, unknowingly sat right behind P.I.G. and
Blast in the courtroom. The time in the hospital and off the street had been kind to Marcus. He had
put on some weight and got his color back.

His court-appointed lawyer begged him to cop out and avoid a death penalty. The public defender
fully intended to sell him out, but he didn’t want his death on his conscience.

Marcus initially refused, preferring death to life imprisonment. It took his mother’s tearful
appeals to finally agree to take a deal. Marcus accepted life without parole on the two murders and
planned to do the same in the next county as well.

When P.I.G. saw Marcus in the courtroom, he openly glared at him. He felt a sense of security
since the man was cuffed and flanked by two deputies. Still, Marcus was pissed when their eyes
met. “Oh, you hard now?” Marcus demanded with a demented chuckle. “I shoulda kilt yo’ fat
ass!”

P.I.G. shuddered in fear and unconsciously reached up and felt the scar left by Marcus’s gun. He
was embarrassed at the memory of his bladder releasing when Marcus put the gun in his mouth. He
could still taste metal and hear the sound of the barrel clicking against his teeth.

To P.I.G.’s relief, the outburst caused the deputies to quickly remove Marcus from the courtroom.
When his mother began wailing, she was also removed, followed by his sister and her kids. After
the murder of a judge and a court reporter in the same room a few years back, there was zero
tolerance.

When P.I.G.’s case was called, one of the high-priced lawyers got up and did his song and dance.
At the end of the spiel, the judge had to agree that there wasn’t enough evidence to go forward.
He then admonished the overzealous prosecutor about bringing undeveloped cases in front of him,
wasting the city’s time and money.

The police department was embarrassed about P.I.G. getting off and resorted to harassment.
P.I.G.’s main house was thirty-eight hot. They would post up in front of his house in an effort to
shut him down.

Since P.I.G.’s other traphouses did the majority of his business, the boycott was in vain. His
main house still served to entertain him, so he kept a small amount of drugs on hand to sustain
Blast and his jesters. He had moved Earl to run out of the traphouses in an attempt to keep him and
Blast apart. He didn’t miss the affection she showed him during the robbery, and he made her pay
for it every day.

Every night, P.I.G. staged drug-fueled orgies to add to his porno collection. By far, his favorite
footage was Tiffany’s masturbation scene. He played it daily, forcing Blast to blow him while he
watched.

* * *

Tiffany was too hot for the clubs with deputies in search of her. She tricked exclusively with
older white men. They came quick and paid well, although some had rather weird fetishes. For an
additional fee, she would spank or even piss on a john. For a slightly higher fee, the john could
spank or piss on her.

She was still driving her mother’s Cadillac until one night a bored patrol officer decided to run
all the plates at the hotel. When the car came back as stolen, a wrecker was called to tow it away.
Tiffany sneaked out the back window of her room just before the police came knocking.

Scoring good coke was an everyday challenge. The few penitentiary-bound renegades who
were foolish enough to play the motels strictly sold bullshit. Tiffany was forced to smoke whipped
cocaine for days before running down some glass.

After the shootout at P.I.G.’s, she was too afraid to return, especially since her car was towed
away, full of drug paraphernalia—not to mention she had witnessed men die. It was just more
baggage for her heavily burdened soul to carry.

A chance meeting with a former acquaintance would change her fate.

“Hey, um…” Tiffany said, desperately trying to recall the name belonging to the familiar face.

“Rico,” the man replied with a furrowed brow as he recognized what was left of Tiffany. He
was a regular at Club Chocolate and remembered when she first started working at the door. He
remembered how, a few months later, Mike charged him $1,500 to trick with her.

Tiffany remembered he had good coke, and she wanted some. Since she had already tricked
with him before and she knew he enjoyed it and paid well, she decided to offer him herself and
save her money for later. “You still be holding?” Tiffany asked seductively.

“No doubt,” Rico responded, feeling himself stiffen at the memory of their hour together. “What
you tryina do?”

“Shit. Come on and get your dick sucked,” Tiffany said cheerfully.

Rico broke her off a few grams after she did the deed, then gave her his number. “Say, shawty,
my people having a bachelor party tonight. You should come through and dance,” he said as
Tiffany exited his car.

“I don’t know,” Tiffany replied, leery of doing private parties. She preferred to stick to her white
client base, even though it was dwindling, along with her weight.

“Come on, lil mama. It’s only a couple guys, and they all ballers,” Rico urged.

“Just dance?” Tiffany asked dubiously.

“Yeah, just dance…and you ain’t gon’ be the only girl,” Rico added.

When Tiffany finally acquiesced, Rico gave her the name of the motel and some money for a
cab.

Tiffany rushed off to smoke the first decent blow she’d had in weeks. As soon as she exhaled her
first pull, she called the number Rico had given her. “I’m there!” she said excitedly.