Girls from da Hood 11 (5 page)

“What the fuck!” Kori belted out as he jumped up and whirled his head around in response to the loud noises coming from downstairs in his house.

Kori's heart began thumping painfully in his chest. It could only be one of two things going on—niggas were coming to get his ass or the police was raiding his shit. Kori finally got enough of the cobwebs of sleep and liquor from his mind and bent down at his bedside in an attempt to reach for his ratchet, but it was not between the bed and his nightstand where he always left it.

“Fuck!” Kori cursed.

The sounds seemed like they were getting closer to him. It sounded like a herd of wildebeests trampling through his house. He looked over at the side of the bed where the girl he had picked up last night was supposed to be, but the spot was empty.

“Where did this bitch go?” Kori mumbled looking for anything he could use as a weapon.

It had only been a few seconds after the banging noises started that Kori finally heard the words he always dreaded hearing ever again in life.

“Police! Don't fucking move!” Kori was staring down the barrel of a huge semiautomatic weapon.

Kori threw his hands up in surrender. “What the fuck is going on here?” he asked as the police officers moved in on him. He was forcefully yanked from his bed and thrown to the floor in a prone position on his stomach.

“It's a visit from the Easter bunny. What the fuck you think is going on?” said one of the many cops that were now pillaging through is place.

“Y'all better have a fuckin' warrant to be here. My lawyer is gonna have a field day with this shit,” Kori snarled, chuckling confidently afterward.

He never brought anything home with him so he was far from worried. He was placed on the floor on his stomach and his arms were pulled behind his back as they placed the handcuffs on him.

“I wanna see your fuckin' search warrant!” Kori screamed.

One of the cops got down on one knee near Kori and got close to Kori's ear. “I'll do you one better. I'll show you our evidence and our search warrant,” the cop hissed, dropping the search warrant and a gallon-sized freezer bag full of white powder next to Kori's head.

“That's some bullshit! Y'all muthafuckas planted that shit! This is some fuckin' bullshit!” Kori screamed as he thrashed against the handcuffs.

“You should probably watch who you bring home from the club,” the same cop said, then he busted out laughing.

“You won't get away with this shit! I got long paper and a good lawyer! When I finish with you, your ass gonna be mopping up French fry grease at McDonald's, you fuckin' pig!” Kori spat.

The rest of the officers continued to tear the house up. They found another bag full of pure, uncut cocaine in a canister in the kitchen. Kori was a parolee, one strike away from his third strike. He knew he was going to be facing down a life sentence this time. As he was carted out of the house and loaded into the back of a paddy wagon, Kori could only wonder if his predicament was a karmic consequence of how he had treated Kima.

* * *

“Jacobs! You got a visit!” the C.O. called out. Kori sat up in his cell and looked at the C.O. strangely. “You gon' move or what? I said you got a visit,” the C.O. said again.

Kori just wanted to make sure he had heard him correctly. Kori hadn't had a visitor since he had been sent upstate. He got up and prepared for the tier walk to the visit house. Kori's mind raced with a million different possibilities of who could be visiting him. It couldn't be any of his boys; none of them would dare put their names down on a prison visit form for fear of immediate arrest. Kori didn't fuck with his parents, although he was sure his trifling-ass family had read about him in the papers and knew about him blowing trial. Kori had put it all on the line and lost.

Kori was escorted into the visit house, where he was searched again for the third time since he had left the tier. When the door to the visit room opened and the C.O. pointed out the visitor, Kori's jaws went slack and his mouth hung open. His legs felt weak and he couldn't move. Kori was in disbelief.

“You gonna go visit with that fine-ass thing, or you gonna stand here stuck on stupid, Jacobs?” the C.O. urged, giving Kori a small shove on the shoulder to move him along.

Kori blinked back tears. For the first time he thought he was feeling what true love felt like. After everything he had done, after all of his betrayal, lies, and leaving her for dead, Kori was staring at his visitor—Kima.

Kori moved slowly to the table and he stood there for a few seconds. Kima had a smirk on her face. Kori couldn't really say it was a smile. She didn't stand up to greet him either. Kori was at a loss for words. He had a simple looking smile on his face.

“W'assup, Kima? I sure didn't expect to see you visiting a nigga like me,” Kori said, breaking the awkward silence between them.

Kima nodded. She too was fighting back tears that burned in the back of her eye sockets. Kima told herself she wasn't shedding another fucking tear over Kori's ass and she meant it. She looked down at her hands to get her focus back.

“Don't you want to know how I got out?” she asked dryly.

“Um, I mean, I'm just glad that you did. It doesn't really matter, right? I told you things would be a'ight for you,” Kori replied.

His words came across the table like a forceful openhanded slap to Kima's face. She squinted her eyes into little dashes and leaned into the table.

“Don't you fuckin' dare take credit for me getting out of prison. Because of you, I lost my son. I was facing fifteen fucking years and you never once even checked on me. But you know what? I got out because I'm smart, because someone told me to do my homework,” Kima gritted through clenched teeth.

“I'm sorry for everything. I was just dumb. I was scared of the cops n' shit, and the baby—” Kori started.

“You better not even mention my baby. You have no right, the baby you had murdered,” Kima spat. Kori hung his head in shame.

“Kori, I only came here for one thing. I came to tell you that when you do dirt, dirt is all you can expect in return. See, you thought I was going to be the one doing hard time. But somebody in the cards had other plans. I guess you can say the tables have turned and only one of us will really be doing hard time,” Kima said angrily as she stood up. Kori looked up at her like he just wanted to fade away. “Oh, yeah, about all that you didn't do for me when I was locked up, well I guess I got my revenge for all of the suffering. I'm sure you remember her, don't you?” Kima said calmly placing a picture of Allison down on the small metal table that separated her from Kori. He looked down at the picture and then looked up at Kima.

“What the fuck?” Kori said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You should watch who you bring home from the club to our . . . Oops, I mean your house,” Kima said, letting out a wicked laugh. Before Kori could say another word, Kima sauntered away.

“C.O., I'm ready to be let out,” she called out as she kept walking. “I hate being behind bars for anything, especially visiting a nigga doing hard time,” she said laughing again. Kori looked on in shock. He was left speechless.

When Kima exited the prison she saw her ride waiting for her. She rushed over to the car and slid into the front passenger's seat.

“You a'ight, baby girl?” Smoke asked her.

Kima looked over at him and smiled. “I am just fine. I don't think your boy could believe how the cards played out though,” Kima replied.

“Fuck him! He probably almost died when he saw that you were out!” Allison screamed from the back seat. Kima turned around in her seat with a big smile on her face.

“Girl, he looked like he had seen a ghost,” Kima told her. They started laughing.

“Did you tell him it was on a technicality like how I got out?” Allison asked.

“Hell no! I wasn't telling that nigga shit. I wasn't giving his ass no ideas to be up in the fuckin' law library researching,” Kima answered.

The three of them drove for a while laughing and talking. Smoke and Kima dropped Allison off at her place near Gunhill Road in the Bronx. But not before Smoke handed her a small duffle bag with cash. Allison thanked him and told Kima she would see her in a few days for their girl's night out.

When Smoke and Kima were alone, he leaned over in her direction and grabbed her head. He pulled her close to him and kissed her deeply.

“Thank you for agreeing to my plan. I knew it would all go smoothly. Nobody knows that nigga Kori better than me, not even him,” Smoke told her.

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for coming through for me when I was on lock down. If it wasn't for you, not only would I still be doing hard time, but that nigga would still be walking around in the world while I served his bid. I am grateful,” Kima said solemnly.

Smoke drove her to the gravesite her cousin Lawanda had bought for her son. Kima took a deep breath before she got out of the car. Smoke held her hand as they walked together to the site. Kima broke down when she looked down at the slate headstone. Smoke hugged her tightly while she cried into his chest. Kima and Smoke stayed at the cemetery until she was all cried out. Then, they drove back to his place.

“You can stay here if you want to, baby girl. I'm sayin', I'm feeling you. I always have been,” he said to her as they sat in his living room.

“I just came by to get the money. I am going to go off and start my own life. I want to live for me for a change. I hope you can understand that,” Kima said softly.

Smoke nodded his agreement. He handed her the money as promised. Kima stood up and before she left his house she turned to him. “When we are made, we don't ask to be born into this hard knock life. Life and death in the hood simply put is hard, whether you doing the hard time inside or outside,” she said with finality.

Smoke understood just what she was talking about. Shit was hard where they came from, and probably in every hood in America was just as hard.

by

The sound of the ringing Bluetooth in his ear broke thirty-one-year-old Mike B's sleep, causing his body to jerk. He realized he had dozed off with the ear bud in his ear watching
Straight Outta Compton
on bootleg. It had been a long day for him. He had been grinding and pushing himself for the past few days, tying up all loose ends so he could prepare to get on the road and go handle some important business in the south for the weekend. Apparently, sleep had finally caught up to him. He wiped the cold out of his eyes and looked over at his iPhone, laying onto one of the many pillows on his bed and looking at the screen. His spider senses went off when he saw the name that appeared across his screen. It was a number he was only used to seeing if it was something of importance or an emergency. It was one of the only few clean numbers he would talk on. At three a.m., he was sure it was one of the two.

“What's wrong?” he wasted no time asking, hitting the
ANSWER
button on his Bluetooth.

“Did I wake you?” his girlfriend, Lenore, asked.

Her voice was raspy and her tone was low like his. Without even knowing what was wrong, he knew something was amiss. They had been dealing with each other long enough to know the only time her voice sounded like this was when she was tired and couldn't sleep.

“You know I never sleep,” he replied.

A light chuckle could be heard on the other end of the line. “Yeah, that's what I was just thinking.” He could tell she was now smiling through the phone. “Besides, even if I was, you know I'd answer for you. W'assup tho'? What's wrong?”

There was dead silence for a moment. He could tell she was trying to conjure up whatever made her call him. An eerie feeling overcame him. He knew whatever it was had to be bad. Her next words confirmed it.

“Something happened to your cousin.”

“Twan?”

He was now wide awake. He knew that was the only cousin she could be referring to. He never introduced her to anybody else in his family besides him.

“What happened?”

“Not sure, but I hear somebody was shooting up at the diner,” Lenore offered. “Denise and I were just getting back in town from New York and stopped to get something to eat. By the time we got there, we saw the ambulance pulling off. We overheard your cousin was in it.”

“Are you fuckin' serious?”

The words tore into Mike B's chest like hot slugs.

“I wish I wasn't, babe. I saw Jeff up there. Have you spoken to him?”

The mentioning of his right hand man made him lean over and retrieve his other phone from the night stand. He noticed he had a few missed calls from his partner and a few numbers not locked in his phone. An eerie feeling swept through him for a split second. He didn't believe in coincidences.

“Not yet. About to hit him up now. He's been trying to reach me. I fucking dozed off.”

“Okay, I just got to Denise's house. I'm dropping her off then coming to you.”

“See you when you get here.”

Mike B discontinued the call and wasted no time calling Jeff on his other phone.

Jeff picked up on the first ring.

“Nigga!” he boomed into the phone.

“I just heard.”

Mike B could tell by the sound of Jeff's expression, what his girl had just told him was what it was.

“Meet me at the spot in the a.m.,” he then said.

“Say no more.”

Mike B hung up the phone and laid back on his king size bed. All he could think about was how he was going to look his aunt in the face after he had promised her he would protect his younger cousin in the streets with his own life.

 

 

 

 

Mike B slipped from up under a lightly snoring Lenore, and climbed out of bed. She had managed to take his mind off of the present situation with some bomb head that knocked him out quicker than Mike Tyson in his prime. But he was wide awake now, and the situation was back fresh on his mental. The time on the digital alarm clock displayed a little after seven as the time. Mike B exited his bedroom. Moments later, he was opening the front door of his east end home to find, the
Courier News
newspaper at his feet. He pulled the plastic off the newspaper as he made his way to his vehicle. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever happened last night would be in today's paper. When he slipped it off of it and opened it up, the front page and headlines caused a sharp pain to jolt through it. The words S
HOOTING
A
T
P
LAINFIELD
D
INER
L
EAVES
O
NE
D
EAD
illuminated off the page. Mike B scanned the article.

Fighting back tears, Mike B flung the newspaper off to the right of him. All types of thoughts flowed through his mind. Despite the fact that someone close to him in blood and on his team was murdered, Mike B still had to keep a level head if he wanted to get to the bottom of things. He was already weighing up potential and possible explanations and scenarios as to how his little cousin had been killed and by who. But first, he needed to talk to Jeff to see what he knew. With that in mind, Mike B whipped his SUV from alongside of the curb headed to what he and Jeff called their Think Tank.