Authors: K. Elliott
Summer showed her Blackberry screen to Tonya. “Can you believe this nigga?”
“Damn,” Tonya said. She handed the phone back to her. Summer sat on the sofa. A single tear rolled down her face.
She wiped her face with her T-shirt. “I don’t know what to do.” “You going to have the baby, that’s what you’re going to do.” “Hell no. I mean, I want to, I really wanted to, not because I
Tonya held her friend. She was shivering, not because it was cold, it was more of a nervous shiver. Why was Q acting so nasty? Why didn’t he believe the baby was
his
?
Summer wiped her face again then pulled away from Tonya. “I forgot to tell you…”
“Tell me what?”
“Q knows Tommy, and he knows that I used to fuck him.”
“Are you serious?”
“How does he know this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he asked somebody. Hell, I have no idea.”
“You didn’t ask him?”
“Yeah, of course I did,” Summer said, her mind drifting to Tommy, wondering how he was going to react once he found out that she was pregnant. But not only was she pregnant, but pregnant by somebody else—pregnant by somebody that knew him.
“What did he say?”
“I think he may have bought cars from Tommy, I don’t know how he knew that me and Tommy had been together.”
“Charlotte is small. Maybe he heard it in the street or something.”
Summer raised her shirt and looked down at her belly. “If it’s a girl I’ma name her Aaliya.”
“I think you’re gonna have a boy.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? My sister has boys and she says boys are easy.”
She thought about the possibility of having a boy. How would she raise him alone? She had heard that boys were a handful. They wanted to play sports, were very mischievous, and broke things. She didn’t know if she was prepared for that.
“So you’re certain you’re going to go through with it?”
Summer looked Tonya in her eyes, fearful about the future. “Yeah I want to go through with it...I think.”
“You think?”
Summer covered her face again. “I don’t know.” The tears came again, and when she finally composed herself she said, “I don’t know. Maybe I
will
have an abortion.”
When Q saw Country’s mom’s phone number come across his screen, he answered immediately. “Hello, Ms. Anne.”
“My baby is dead, Quentin. My baby is gone.”
“Calm down, Ms. Anne. What are you talking about?”
“Country was found dead last night. He was shot three times in the chest.”
Q’s heart dropped. His mouth was dry. Was this some kind of dream? He looked at his phone again and the caller ID indicated that it was Country’s mom alright.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, baby. I was calling you to see if you knew anything,” she said, still sobbing. He heard Country’s sisters Shakira and Shante in the background crying.
“Ms. Anne, I don’t know what happened, but I promise you I will get to the bottom of this shit.” He checked his watch; it was 3:00 p.m. He knew something was strange. He hadn’t talked to Country since yesterday.
“Baby don’t get yourself in no trouble. You have to let the Lord handle this.”
“But Ms. Anne, my brother...your son is gone.”
“And Quentin, there ain’t nothing neither one of us can do to bring him back. Remember that.”
“Okay, bye Ms. Anne.” He terminated the call. Who the fuck could have killed Country and why?
Tommy and Angie met at the Flying Biscuit, a trendy little restaurant in Ballantyne. She didn’t really want to meet with him, but he had begged, and she agreed to hear what he had to say. They both ordered shrimp and grits.
There was an awkward silence before Tommy asked, “So where do we go from here, Angie?”
“What do you mean?” she said, stirring her grits.
“I mean is it over?”
“As far as I’m concerned.”
“Look me in my eyes and tell me it’s over,” he said.
She stared him right in his eyes. “It’s over Tommy.”
“What about the baby?”
“Tommy, I’m not pregnant.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“I went to see my doctor.”
His expression turned to disappointment. He grabbed a shrimp and shoved it into his mouth.
“I see you’ve been practicing your table manners.”
“I’m disappointed,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm.
“Why?”
“You know how bad I want kids,” he said as he held another shrimp in his hand. “I really want a son.”
“But we’re not ready.”
“I think we are.”
She laughed, and he became annoyed. She knew how sensitive he was about this subject; she knew just what it took to make him mad.
The waitress refilled their glasses with lemonade.
“Don’t laugh.”
“But the relationship is a joke,” she said. Her eyes were misty again.
“It’s a joke to you.”
“It was apparently a joke to you.”
He leaned forward, but without looking into her eyes, he said, “What happened to us?”
“She happened to us. Your little girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“But you love her don’t you?”
He didn’t respond.
“Yeah, of course you love her.” She took a bite of her food.
The waitress dropped the check on the table.
“Where are you living now?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Mama’s house. Where else? I mean, I can’t go back to my house. I almost got killed.”
“Nobody’s going to kill you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Trust me,” he said, and then gulped down his lemonade.
“They tried already.”
“They were gunning for me.”
“You weren’t there. You left me.”
“I left you because you made me leave.”
Silence. Neither one of them had anything to say. Finally he grabbed her hand. “You still love me don’t you?”
Tears rolled down her face, and he stood to pull his chair to the same side of the table she was on. She pulled a Kleenex from her purse and wiped her face. She didn’t respond to his question. She turned to him and buried her head into his chest. He brushed her hair playfully then whispered, “Let’s get out of here. I want you to spend the night with me.”
He picked up the check, $22.99, and then pulled three tens from his wallet before they left.
omeone was flashing his or her headlights behind him. Tommy looked in the rearview mirror. He recognized the car immediately. It was Q. What the hell did he want? Did he have someone with him? Tommy looked under his armrest. He didn’t have his gun. He pulled over at a gas station two miles later. He knew it would be safe there to see what Q wanted. Both men got out of their vehicles and stood face to face. “What’s up Q?”
“You know damn well what’s up. Country is dead.” “What the fuck you mean?”
“He dead…like somebody licked him. What part of dead
don’t you understand?”
“When did this happen? How did this happen?”
“He was shot in the chest,” Q said, examining Tommy’s body
language. He believed Tommy had something to do with it, but he didn’t look or act as if he were guilty of anything, but he never did. That was a quality he had. Now Q was sure he had something to do with Squirt getting arrested like he was sure he had something to do with Country’s death.
Tommy placed his hands on Q’s shoulders and said, “Look at me man, I ain’t have shit to do with this. I swear to you I didn’t.”
“Motherfucker, Country was like my brother. You know how close we were.”
“I didn’t have nothing to do with it.”
“Why’d you do it Tommy?”
Ignoring his question, Tommy asked, “Did you have J-Black shot?”
“So he did it?” Q asked.
“Could have,” Tommy said, then looked away. His truck was running. He reached in the truck and turned off the ignition. He walked over to put his arm around Q. “I didn’t know Country was dead.”
“That was my brother, man.” He balled his fist up as if he wanted to punch Tommy, but he began to pace and think. The 9mm was in the car under the seat. He could just shoot Tommy in the head and drive off, but those damn surveillance cameras were located above the gas pumps.
“I understand, and trust me, I hate that this shit has happened. It has to stop.”
“Can’t stop now,” Q said.
“Why not…why can’t it stop? Do you want everybody to die? Is that how you want this shit to end?”
“Nigga I don’t give a fuck. I stopped giving a fuck today. I swear to you, Tommy, somebody is going to pay for this…you’re going to pay for this.”
Q jerked away from Tommy and headed back to his car. When he got in the car he pulled up beside Tommy and said, “Watch your back, nigga.”
Summer looked down at her stomach. It looked as if she were bloated. There was a pudge. She knew that she was going to look funny pregnant. She was small and she probably wouldn’t remain small throughout her pregnancy. Her mother was small; it was in her genes. Rubbing her belly she couldn’t believe a baby was inside of her. A living breathing person was inside her. She was actually going to be a mom. Smiling, she was happy that she was going to make her mother and father grandparents. She didn’t care if Q wanted the baby or not. She would take care of her child herself.
She heard a knock at the door. She opened the blinds slightly. Tommy’s Range Rover. What the hell did he want? She wouldn’t open the door. He might have wanted her to have sex. She couldn’t have sex with him. She wouldn’t have sex with him. She
I just left your house. Your car was in the driveway, so I am assuming that you are sleeping or you just don’t want to be bothered. Either way, I am fine. I really need to talk to you about some things. I had a heart to heart talk with Angie, and I think that I am going to try to do right by her. I mean, I still love you and all, but I have a gut feeling that you’re becoming serious with somebody else. I feel like we’ve grown apart.
Tommy
Sent via Sprint PCS Blackberry
“We have to get this nigga, man,” Ditty said while reclining the seat back in Tommy’s truck. He lit a blunt, inhaled, then blew out a ring of smoke and then coughed. “Yeah, this shit is getting serious.”
“The shit is already serious,” Tommy said. He rolled the window down, trying not to inhale the smoke. Usually he didn’t allow anyone to smoke in his truck, but now he really could care less. He was thinking about the conversation he’d had with Q.
“I don’t give a fuck about Q, man. I been telling you all along let’s get that nigga, man. I’m telling you, he’s a pussy. I mean, I can see it in him. Now that Country is dead, he really don’t have nobody to ride with him.”
“This shit is really fucked up, man. I mean, all this shit came about because these niggas think I ratted.”
Ditty coughed again before putting the blunt out in the ashtray. “I don’t give a fuck how it came about. Now it’s about to be war, man. We gotta get him before he get at one of us.”
“I ain’t afraid to die,” Tommy said.
“It ain’t about being afraid. I ain’t afraid either, but I don’t want to die now, and I don’t believe you do either.”
Tommy didn’t say anything. He thought about the bridge. “So do we get him?” Ditty asked.
“We have to protect ourselves.”
“Naw, nigga. We have to take him out.”
Tommy looked at Ditty, not really knowing what to say. He knew Ditty was right.
It was three in the morning when Tommy’s phone rang. It was a number he wasn’t familiar with. He answered it on the third ring. Maybe somebody was in trouble. “Hello.”
“Tommy, it’s Jay.”
“Jay, it’s three in the morning, what’s wrong?”
“I have to talk to you and it can’t wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’d rather see you in person. Can we meet at IHOP on Independence? The one going to Interstate 485.”
“When?”
“Now, Tommy. I really need to see you.”
“Where’s Matt?”
“He won’t be with me.”
“Why not?”
“Tommy, just come see me.”
“Is Matt in trouble?”
“Meet me at IHOP in one hour.”
ay was at a table in the back of the restaurant nursing a glass of orange juice when Tommy came in and sat across from him. Jay looked nervous—bags had formed beneath his eyes. Tommy could tell that he hadn’t rested well. “What’s wrong?”
Jay leaned forward and avoided Tommy’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed his glass and placed it to his lips. He was killing time.
He looked Tommy directly in the eyes. “Tommy, don’t show up to get the Maserati.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Tommy, the feds got Matt.”
“I just spoke with Matt.”
“I know, and he was with the feds. Your whole conversation was recorded.”
Tommy felt queasy. He was at a loss for words. “Why Jay… why did Matt do me like this?”
“They know about all the cars he’s sold. They had him, and it came down to between you and him, Tommy. I’m sorry.”
Tommy laughed. He got it. Now it had to be a joke. “You’re kidding me, right? This is a joke, right, Jay?”
Jay’s eyes looked serious. “Tommy, I wouldn’t wake you up in the middle of the night to play with you.”
“I gotta take him out. I cannot go back to prison, man. I can’t.”
“Tommy, didn’t you hear me? Matt is working for the feds. You don’t want to do nothing to him.”
Tommy stood and frisked Jay. “What about you?” “What about me?”
“Are you in trouble too?”
“No. He spared me.”
“What the fuck? Why in the hell did he do this to me?”
Jay looked away from Tommy. He was in deep thought. “Tommy, it just ain’t right, man.”
Tommy slammed his fist hard on the table. “Damn it! I’ve been pinched again.”
“They got you, Tommy.”
“All they got is conversation.”
“That’s enough to go to the grand jury.”
“I gotta get outta here.”
“You can’t let them know that you know, or else they are going to get you.”
“I got to get rid of my phone.”
Jay looked puzzled. “Why?”
“These damn things have GPS on them. They can track my movements,” Tommy said, wondering where he would run.
“You need your phone, Tommy. This is how you can keep your enemies close. You can kind of gauge their movements.”
“You’re right.” Tommy looked Jay in his eyes. They were blue eyes. White man eyes, but they were sincere eyes. He asked Jay, “Why are you helping me?”
He took a deep breath. “You seem to be a good person.”
“But I’m a crook, and you’re a crook.”
“But we’re the good guys, Tommy. We have loyalty.”
Both men stood, knowing this would be the last time Tommy would see Jay. He hugged him and whispered, “Thanks a lot.”