Chapter Twenty-Four
The One I Trusted
They were about to recon the project’s ground and someone shouted at Melquan. He whirled ready to blast, but when he saw that it was Precious, Melquan put his gun away.
“What da fuck you want, bitch?” he asked, giving the dirtiest of looks.
“I heard about what happened to your mother last night. I wanted to know if she’s alright, and say I’m sorry…”
“Whatever, bitch, you not on my team no more, right? So why you comin’‘round me for…?”
“I just wanted to let you know, I’m sorry to hear… I mean, damn. I still got feelin’ fa you. I still care what happens.”
“Bitch, I don’t have time to hear all da bullshit. If I find out you remotely connected to da situation, I’m a kill you too.”
“Damn Melquan, why would I be even trying to get your mother hurt like that, huh? Tell me why, Melquan,” Precious said, on the verge of tears.
Precious’ pleas fell on deaf ears. Melquan ignored her. He walked away like he had not hear anything she had said.
It took around a week before Justice finally resurfaced. Unfortunately for him his visit did not go undetected. Melquan and Mike Copeland held an around the clock vigil on Justice’s mother apartment building. When they weren’t around they paid drug addicts and kids to be their eyes and ears.
It was popular knowledge by now about what had happened. The underworld of the project was more than happy to help Melquan. Something about hurting someone’s mother spawned an outpouring of sympathy on Melquan’s behalf. Melquan got the call that Justice was in the vicinity. He and Mike raced over to the building to watch and wait.
Inside his mother’s apartment, Justice was enjoying some leftovers before he hit the streets. He had come to his mother’s place to make sure she was taking her medication. She begged him to stay and offered him some food.
“Ma, ya food was good as usual. I hate to eat and run, but I gotta go do sumthin,” Justice said, rubbing his filled stomach. “Ma, make sure you watch what you eat. You know you got high blood pressure. Stay away from all that pork.”
“Oh boy, that pork ain’t never hurt nobody,” his mother countered. “Our people have survived for hundreds of years on pork. So if I want to have me some chitlins, or some pig feet, every now and then, I’m havin’ it. Shoot, ain’t nobody gone tell me what to eat now. It’s too late already.”
“Here you go wid this again,” Justice said. “All I said was watch what you eat. Ma, you real stubborn, you always hollerin’ about goin’ ta meet ya maker. I guess you wanna meet him wid a pork chop sandwich in ya hand. I guess the doctor don’t know what he talkin’‘bout when he told you to lay off that pork, huh?”
“I’m havin’ me some pork whenever the mood hit me,” the old woman said.
“Okay ma, I done said all I had to say.”
He got up from the table and headed to the door. Outside Justice’s ride was getting impatient. The man began incessantly honking the car’s horn.
Melquan and Mike Copeland didn’t see the car before. The loud sound of the horn, clued them. They were able to put two and to the together. Discreetly, Melquan slipped out the car and took up a strategic position under the stairs in the building’s lobby. He left the driver for Mike Copeland to handle.
“A’ight ma, goodnight… I gotta go. I’ll call ya later,” Justice said.
“Take care boy, and stay off da streets and outta trouble,” she said, kissing Justice on the cheek.
“I will ma. I love you, bye.”
The sound of footsteps descending down the stairs echoed throughout the hallway. The heavy thuds snapped Melquan out of his murderous trance. He removed the gun from his waistline, hid beneath the steps and readied himself for his date with destiny.
Going down the stairs was an afterthought for Justice. His mind was thinking about finding Melquan and finishing what he had started. He couldn’t wait to run down on him, and hit him for his whole stash. He was about to do a sweep of the projects to see if they could spot Melquan. The home invasion on Melquan’s mother’s apartment was a nice come-up, but Justice wanted more. He hit the last step and suddenly he heard his name.
“Justice…”
Instantly he realized that there was no friendliness in the voice. Justice thought about reaching for his gun, but remembered he left it in the car. He spun around slowly, hoping it was all just a figment of his imagination. He soon realized it wasn’t. Melquan stood face to face with the man who violated his mother’s home. He clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on his gun.
“Yo, I heard you was lookin’ me?” Melquan snarled. “Well you just found me, muthafucka!”
Justice made a weak attempt to turn and run. Melquan’s quick reflexes wouldn’t have it. His muscle fiber twitched so fast, that three shots rang out before Justice could successfully take a step toward the door.
Boom, boom, boom, three loud gun blasts shattered the tranquility of the neighborhood. The shots caught Justice’s accomplice completely off guard. He opened his car door and attempted to rush toward the sound of the gunfire. Before he could aid Justice, Mike Copeland cut him down in a hail of bullets.
Melquan stood over Justice’s crumpled body and pumped three more slugs into his head and chest. He spit on Justice’s corpse on the way out the building. They fled the crime scene, vanishing into the project’s maze.
The killings brought no cries of justice from anyone except Justice’s mother. Good riddance was the only sentiment of the community. Since he was an adolescent, Justice had been a menace in the projects. By all accounts he had reaped what he sowned.
The murders had clearly taken toll on Melquan. He wasn’t accustomed to taking a man’s life so easily. Violence was one thing, murder was something totally different. The act weighed heavily on his mind. Melquan needed a break from the game, and he took one.
