Chapter 17
Detective Ramsey snapped up in her bed. She’d been reviewing a case she was working on and had just gone to bed two hours ago. To make matters worse, Denzel Washington was just about to enter her when her phone rang and woke her out of her sweet dream. Sleepy and pissed off, she threw her covers off of her. The vibrator she’d used to relieve some tension earlier went crashing to the floor.
“Fuck!” she screamed when she saw the batteries skate across the floor and roll under her dresser.
“Yeah,” she said dryly as she answered the phone. Her frown soon turned into a huge smile. She had just been told that Yolonda had come out of her coma and was now ready to talk to the police. She had coerced one of the nurses into promising to call her when and if Yolonda regained consciousness. Ramsey quickly threw on her clothes. She brushed her hair to try to make herself more presentable, but when she couldn’t get it like she wanted it, she simply pulled it back in a ponytail.
She grabbed the picture she’d gotten from the evidence locker and looked at it again. She didn’t know how she’d missed it the first time. It was a picture of Yolonda and some guy named Temp. She’d never even heard the name before, but a fellow coworker who’d handled juvenile cases took one look at the picture and knew exactly who Temp was. The coworker remembered busting Temp two years earlier for shoplifting and weed possession.
Ramsey thought long and hard about bringing him in for questioning, but with nothing else to go on but a picture, she decided not to. Besides, the last thing she wanted was the captain crawling up her ass because she brought someone in and couldn’t hold them, let alone charge them. She stuffed the picture in her back pocket and headed out the door. By the time she got to the hospital, she could barely contain herself. She felt like a kid on Christmas. She hoped like hell that Yolonda had something useful to tell her.
“Hold that elevator,” she said to a nurse with a bowl of salad in her hand.
“Floor?” asked the nurse.
“Third,” Ramsey answered.
The nurse looked down at Ramsey’s badge and put two and two together. “Oh, you must be here to see that girl who got attacked the other day.”
“That’s right,” Ramsey responded. She wasn’t about to hold a lengthy conversation with the nosy nurse. This was police business.
“Yeah, I heard that she had come out of her coma when I came in an hour ago.”
An hour ago? And your ass is on break already? Ramsey was relieved when the doors opened, and she didn’t have to hear the woman’s mouth anymore. She rolled her eyes when she discovered that she and the nurse were going the same way. Just as she was about to ask the nurse behind the desk about Yolonda, nosy ass spoke first.
“Hey, Barb. This is the officer who—”
“Detective,” Ramsey corrected her.
“Sorry. This is the detective who’s here to talk to Yolonda.”
Ramsey couldn’t take it anymore. She had to get away from this woman before she choked her. “Excuse me, could you tell me where the bathroom is?”
After giving her a funny look, Barb pointed her in the direction of the ladies’ room. She stayed in there checking her messages and reading Facebook posts until she had calmed down enough to go back out. When she came out, the nosy nurse was gone.
“Thank God,” she mumbled to herself. She walked back up to the nurse’s station and asked Barb to escort her to Yolonda’s room. Ramsey’s gut tightened up as a somber look fell across Barb’s face.
“They didn’t tell you? Yolonda’s nurse, Rachel, said she was going to call you back.”
“Huh? Call me back for what?”
“I’m sorry, Detective, but there was a mix-up. The nurse who called you back got the patients mixed up. There was another patient who came out of a coma. The patient you’re referring to died this morning.”
“Wait a minute! I spoke with a Nurse . . . Jennings yesterday,” Ramsey said as she took out her notepad and flipped through the pages. “I told her to call me when Yolonda was able and willing to talk.”
“Well, I’m sorry for the miscommunication, Detective, but Nurse Jennings doesn’t work here anymore. She was fired late last night. I’m not supposed to tell you that, but since you’re the police, I don’t see the harm in doing so.”
Detective Ramsey just stood there, stunned.
* * *
Tangie woke up hot and horny. She was lying on her stomach with her ass slightly lifted in the air. It was an odd way for a person to sleep, but for what she wanted to do, it served her well. Tangie scooted her knees up so her ass went up even higher.
“Antwan? Antwan, come on, baby. I want you to hit it from the back.”
When Antwan didn’t respond, Tangie slid her hand along the sheets next to her. To her surprise, she didn’t feel anything. She opened her eyes only to discover that Antwan wasn’t in the bed with her. She got up, looked around, and got pissed.
“The fuck this nigga at?” she asked herself.
Thinking that he may have just gone to take a leak, Tangie stripped asshole naked and got back in the bed. She waited for another minute before getting out of the bed and stomping to the bathroom. Her mouth dropped when she saw Antwan standing in the mirror, brushing his waves. He was fully dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a LeBron James jersey. On his feet, he sported a pair of white-on-white Air Force Ones.
“What you doin’ up so early, and where the hell do you think you goin’?”
Antwan stopped brushing his hair and turned around to face her. “First of all, it ain’t that damn early. And second of all, we talked about this shit last night, so don’t try to get brand new on a nigga.”
“Talked about what last night?” she asked in a confused tone.
“Tangie, I told you last night that I had a hookup with a dude I went to school with,” Antwan lied. It slid off his tongue so easily he almost believed it himself.
“What kind of hookup?”
“Yayo, dope, cocaine, and yo’ ass said as long as I brought some long paper in here, you was cool with it.”
“I said that?” she asked, pointing to herself. If Tangie was honest with herself, she would concede that she couldn’t remember much of anything that happened the night before. The most important thing she remembered was that Antwan came in the house rambling about how they were about to get rich. That’s all she heard, and quite frankly, that’s all she needed to hear. The two of them commenced tossing back tequila and blowing blunts. They ended the night by passing out in bed without a hint of sex, which was the reason Tangie was so horny.
“How long did you say you was gonna be gone?”
“Three days. My nigga Bo wants to show me all the ins and outs of the dope game.”
“Oh. Okay,” Tangie said sadly.
“What the fuck wrong with you? I know you ain’t trippin’ ’cause I’m trying to go and get this paper! Yo’ ass ain’t gonna be trippin’ when you spendin’ that shit!”
“Boy, stop yellin’ like you fuckin’ crazy! Ain’t nobody trippin’ off that!”
“Then what’s up?”
“Damn, I just thought you mighta wanted some pussy before you left, but I guess yo’ ass ain’t got time for this good shit,” she said as she walked back into the bedroom.
Antwan thought about it for about half a second before he rushed into the bedroom, bent her over the dresser, and hit it from the back.
* * *
The afternoon sunlight poured through the windshield and splashed across Antwan’s face as he headed for Bob Evans. Right before he’d left his house, he’d either called or texted each member of the Young Lionz crew and told them to meet him there. Antwan smirked as he thought about the lie he’d told Tangie. There was no way in the world he would have been able to leave without a fight had he told her that it was really her cousin Rhonda who was teaching him how to cook cocaine. The hardest thing for him to do was going to be watching Bo paw all over his side bitch for the next few days.
Antwan smiled as he fantasized about the money he and his crew were going to make once they learned the finer points of slanging dope. Although he realized that it still carried a hefty prison sentence if they ever got caught, he would rather slang rocks than jack people. At least this way innocent bystanders wouldn’t be getting hurt, not that he cared that much. He grabbed a blunt out of his ashtray and lit it. He felt good knowing that his dreams of becoming rich were about to become a reality.
* * *
Chris looked at his phone and smiled. More than anyone else in his crew, he needed money. It tore him apart to listen to his mother crying all night long. He wanted so badly to go into her bedroom and comfort her. But he also knew that the only thing that would make this situation better was cold, hard cash. He walked over to his closet and took out the money that he’d made from his crew’s jack moves. He laid every bit of it on his bed. Then he emptied his pockets and laid that on the bed too. After he was done counting his money up, it came to a little over $8,000.
He put $1,000 in his pocket and put the rest in a bag. He took the bag down to his mother’s bedroom and hung it on the door. Chris then got dressed as fast as he could. After receiving the text from Antwan, Temp had called him and told him that he was going to pick up him and the rest of the Young Lionz. Chris stared out of the window until he saw Temp’s car coming down the street. With his mind on his money and his money on his mind, Chris left the house on a mission to save his sister at all costs.
* * *
Niko couldn’t wait for Temp to come and get him. For the last hour, all he’d heard was his mother screaming James’s name as he pounded her guts. He hated that James could pretty much do what he pleased, including going out and screwing around with other women, and his mother would always turn a blind eye to it. Niko got up from his bed, walked out of his room, and headed toward the front door. He was glad to hear that James was no longer smashing his mother. As he walked down the stairs, he heard his mother’s door open.
He thought it was his mother, so he braced himself to hear the mean and despicable things that she always said to him. But instead, he saw James beaming about something else.
“Damn, that bitch got some good-ass pussy for an old broad. That shit juicy as fuck.”
Niko stopped in his tracks. He turned around and glared at James, who just smiled at him and headed into the bathroom. Niko quickly walked out of the house and sat down on his front steps. He didn’t trust himself to stay in the house with James a second longer. If he had, he was sure that he would shoot him in the face. He waited another two minutes before Temp pulled up.
* * *
Temp, Niko, Chris, and Bishop were all quiet as they headed to Bob Evans to meet Antwan. Each one of them had their own issues to deal with, and none of them wanted to talk about it. As soon as Temp pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, he looked each one of his friends in the eye.
“Y’all Young Lionz ready to make this money?” he asked as he stuck his fist out.
One by one, each member of the crew put their fists in the middle and gave one another dap. They got out of the car and walked into the restaurant on a cash-getting mission. As far as restaurants went, the place was quaint but cozy. Equal amounts of booths and four-seat tables filled the area. For the lovebirds, there were also a fair amount of two-seated tables. Waitresses smiled as they made their way to and from tables carrying different meals. The four young men all sniffed the air and smiled. Some of their stomachs rumbled as the aroma of bacon, eggs, and sausages wafted through the air. It took a few seconds for his eyes to sift through the sea of bodies seated in the place, but soon Niko spotted Antwan sitting in the back, talking on the phone.
“Yo, there that nigga go right there, Temp.”
The four of them made their way back to the booth. When Antwan saw his partners in crime approaching, he hung up with whoever he was talking to and smiled. “Mi amigos, what’s up?”
“You, dawg,” Temp spoke up.
“Let’s get to it, dawg. I’m on a paper chase,” Chris said.
Antwan smiled some more and motioned for them to sit down. “A’ight, peeps, here it is. This li’l bitch I’m fuckin’ with hipped me to the dope game. Her dude, Bo, is some kinda small-time kingpin over on his side of town. Apparently the nigga he been countin’ on to sell the shit ain’t gettin’ the job done, so I had Rhonda talk to him and tell him that she had a cousin who wanted to get put on. Me and Temp went and met the nigga the other day, and he lookin’ for somebody to hold down one of the blocks that’s starvin’ for somebody to serve them fiends. That’s where we come in at. I just got off the phone with Rhonda and she done already cooked, cut, and rocked some shit up, so all we gotta do is step in and start grinding. I’m going over there tonight, and she gon’ teach me how to cook the shit up.”
It was quiet for a minute before Antwan looked at all of them and asked them, “What y’all think?”
“I think we need to hurry up and get this shit poppin’, son,” Chris spoke up. As much as he needed the paper, he wanted to get on the grind as soon as possible.
“You got that shit right, dawg,” Niko concurred. “I’m ready to get paid for real. Fuck all that chump change we been making.”
While the rest of his crew was smiling, Bishop sat there with a strange look on his face.
“Nigga, what the fuck you lookin’ all confused and shit for?” asked Temp.
Before Bishop could answer, the waitress came over and asked them if they were ready to order. “Nah, we straight,” Temp roughly said. The waitress frowned at Temp as she walked away, causing Temp to blow her a kiss and laugh.
“Hol’ up a second,” Bishop started. “You said something about a cousin or somethin’?”
“Nah, dude,” Antwan laughed. “Her nigga, Bo, thinks I’m her cousin. But in reality, I’m beatin’ that pussy to pieces, my nigga.”
“That nigga gonna find out and split yo’ muthafuckin’ wig,” Bishop laughed.
“I wish that punk muthafucka would. I’ll beat the perm out his muthafuckin’ head.”
The five friends all cracked up laughing. When the waitress came back over and asked them if they were ready to order, Temp caught an instant attitude. “Man, let’s hurry up and order before this broad blows a gasket.”
The waitress once again frowned at Temp.
“Ay yo, I don’t know what the fuck yo’ problem is, but you can quit mean mugging me like that.”
“Temp, chill out, man,” Antwan said, trying to calm his friend down. After placing their orders, the five friends continued to discuss how they were going to go about getting paid.
“Okay, dawg. So basically we’re going to dive into the dope game, right?” Niko asked.
“You damn skippy, my nigga,” Antwan answered.
“What the fuck are we gonna be doing?” Bishop questioned.
“Everything, my dude. We’re gonna learn how to mix the dope, cook it, and cut it up. We’re also gonna learn how to sell it in powdered form, by weight,” Antwan explained.
Chris paid special attention. His friends didn’t know it, but he needed the money more than all of them combined.
* * *
“Yo, I gotta take a leak,” Chris said as he got up and walked toward the bathroom. Instead of going in, however, he passed by it and went outside. Pulling out his cell phone, he sent Antwan a text asking if he could meet him out there.
Knowing that it must be something that Chris didn’t want to discuss in front of the rest of the crew, Antwan pretended that someone was calling him and he had to take the call outside.
“Yo, what’s up, dawg?” Antwan asked when he met Chris outside.
Chris was listening very carefully when Antwan told them that he and Temp would start off the rock-slinging mission, and that when they had everything situated, they would call the rest of the team in. But Chris had other ideas. He needed to make bread, and he needed to make it fast. “Yo, man, I need to be out there with y’all when y’all first hit the trap. I need that bread, man.”
“Dude, we all need to make this paper,” Antwan told him.
“Nah, you don’t understand, dawg. I really, really need to get some major cheese in my life, man.”
Antwan looked at Chris closely. He saw something in his friend’s eyes. It was a look he’d never seen before. “Yo, what’s up, playa?” he asked.
Chris turned around so that his back was to Antwan. The last thing he wanted was for Antwan to see the tears that were forming in his eyes. He couldn’t hide them for long, however, as Antwan walked up to him and put his arm around him in a manly hug.
“What’s up, my brother?” Antwan asked, now genuinely concerned.
Chris figured that now was as good a time as any to swallow his pride and tell one of his closest friends what was going on in his life. From the minute he found out that his sister had cancer, he’d vowed to keep it away from his friends. He didn’t need their pity. But now he was put in a position where it would benefit his sibling to tell one of them what the deal was.
“My sister has leukemia, man,” he spit out before he had a chance to change his mind about telling Antwan. “The doctors say she needs a bone marrow transplant, and the shit costs a lot o’ money. I mean, a lot o’ muthafuckin’ bread! I need to be in that trap, dawg! I need to make paper bad as fuck!”
Antwan didn’t know whether to be pissed or feel sorry for his buddy. “Man, why the fuck you ain’t tell us, man?”
“Man, I wasn’t trying to talk about that shit with y’all, man. Don’t get it twisted though. I love y’all like y’all was my blood, man. But I go through enough shit at home. I wasn’t trying to bring it out of the house with me. When I leave the house, I leave the house to get away from that part of my life, ’cause when I go back home, I still have to face the fact that my sister is sick. I didn’t need to be reminded of it in the fuckin’ streets.”
Placing his right palm over his mouth, Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As the tears began to roll, he quickly reached up and used the back of his hand to wipe them away. When the second set fell, he used both hands to remove them. He was doing all he could to stop the tears from rolling down his face, but he was unsuccessful. Not wanting to look soft in front of one of his comrades, Chris gritted his teeth and attempted to will the tears back into their ducts. Antwan looked back toward the restaurant and saw the rest of his friends walking their way. Chris made sure all the tears were gone before they got there.
“Yo, what the fuck y’all niggas doin’ out here?” Temp bellowed.
“Just shootin’ the shit about a few things. Chris been tellin’ me that when he visited his cousin last year, he learned a little about slangin’ them thangs,” Antwan lied. He didn’t want the rest of them to know Chris’s business about his sister if he didn’t want to tell them. Chris and Antwan gave each other a look that said they understood each other.
“A’ight, check it out. Me, Temp, and Chris gonna roll over to Rhonda’s and get this shit poppin’. When we make sure that everything is all good, one of us will come swoop y’all.”
“Man, how come all of us can’t go?” Niko asked, irritated.
“Cause, dawg, I wanna make sure we can all cake off on this shit. It don’t make sense for us to go down there and throw rocks at the penitentiary if the money ain’t worth it.”
He studied each of their faces to check for signs of fear. And just as he thought, there were none. Antwan knew that he hung with a pack of wolves, and none of their hearts pumped Kool-Aid.
* * *
Bishop and Niko shot quizzical glances at each other as old-school Isaac Hayes blared through the car speakers. Meanwhile, Temp sat behind the steering wheel, nodding his head. Using his knees to steer, Temp’s eyes alternated from the street in front of him to the cigar paper soon to be filled with weed in his lap.
“Man, why the fuck are we listening to this old-ass shit?” Bishop asked. “Throw some 50 Cent in, and pay attention to the fuckin’ road before you crash this muthafucka.”
Temp ignored his buddy and continued to bob his head. Shaking his head, Niko took a pull from his own blunt and held it in. Bishop grabbed the blunt from him and stared at his friend for a few seconds.
“Damn, nigga, you gon’ blow that muthafuckin’ smoke out?” Bishop asked.
After holding it in a few more seconds, Niko half blew, half coughed the toxic fumes into the air. He didn’t know if his other friends had seen it, but he’d definitely noticed the troubled look in Chris’s eyes. He suspected strongly that it may have had something to do with his family. But unless Chris brought it up, he wasn’t going to pry. None of the Young Lionz talked about their family life much. Whenever they got together, it was strictly to have fun getting high or drunk or to go on a paper chase.
“The fuck on yo’ mind, nigga?” Temp asked him when he saw him staring off into space. Originally, the plan was for Temp to accompany Antwan and Chris to Rhonda’s house. But after getting a call from a girl he’d been trying to bang, he decided to just meet them there. It was just his bad luck that her boyfriend popped up over at her house, and she had to take a raincheck on the dick.
“Huh? Oh, nothin’,” he lied. “Just thinkin’ ’bout what I’m gonna do with all this cheese we gon’ be makin’.”
“Shit, I’ma get me another ride,” Temp proclaimed.
“Another ride? Damn, man, you just got this one,” Bishop reminded him.
“So what? When you a fly-ass nigga like me, you s’pose ta have multiple rides.”
While rolling down the street, Temp spotted a young, sexy cutie walking toward the store. Although she looked rather young, that didn’t stop Temp from trying to hit on her. “Hey, sexy, where you goin’?” he spat at her.
“You talkin’ to me?” she asked.
“Yeah, you need a ride?”
“Nah, I’m straight.”
Bishop squinted his eyes to get a better view of the pretty vixen. “Oh, shit, man, hol’ up. Ain’t that Veronica’s sister, Dana?” he asked.
“Yeah, nigga, that’s yo’ sister-in-law,” Temp said, picking on his friend while watching Dana go into the store.
“Sister-in-law? What the fuck that nigga talkin’ ’bout, dawg?” Niko asked, confused.
“Oh, you ain’t heard, my dude? The li’l homie here been bumpin’ uglies with Veronica.”
“Veronica?” Niko asked as a pang of jealousy hit him. He too had dreamt of knocking Veronica’s boots. “Nigga, how the fuck you pull that?”
“First of all, you can eighty-six that sister-in-law shit, my dude. Ain’t no nuptials jumping off around here, homie,” Bishop clarified. “Second,” he said, looking at Niko, “it’s called mackin’, baby!”
The three of them shared a good laugh until Bishop realized that they were still sitting in front of the store. “Man, why the fuck we still sitting here?”
“Shit, nigga, I thought that you might want me to give the little heifer a ride home.”
Before Bishop could respond, Dana came walking out of the store. Her eyes rolled, and her lips smacked at the sight of them still sitting there.
“Don’t trip, li’l mama. We just wanted to know if you needed a ride home.”
“Boy, please. I don’t get in the car with strangers,” she proclaimed, leaning back with her arms folded.
“Number one, that ‘boy’ shit is dead. Number two, what the fuck you mean strangers? You don’t remember us?”
Dana craned her neck as she tried to look inside the car. It took her a few seconds to recognize who they were. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Y’all Tangie’s boyfriend’s friends.” Dana craned her neck again to see if Chris was in the car with them.
“Why you lookin’ all in the car like that? You want a fuckin’ ride or not?” Temp asked, getting irritated. He was trying to be nice, but this little hot-in-the-ass heifer was testing his patience. When Dana didn’t see Chris inside, she backed away.
“Nah, I’m straight. I’ma walk. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Man, why the fuck you think she was looking in the car like that?” Niko asked.
Temp looked at him like he was the dumbest dude on the earth. “’Cause she’s a bitch, nigga. That’s what bitches do. They nosy as fuck!”
“Yo, man, while we’re in front of this store, I’ma run in and get a six pack,” Bishop said as he hopped out of the car.
While Bishop was in the store, Temp noticed a familiar car driving toward them on the opposite side of the street. He recognized it as the car driven by the dudes they got into it with over at Tangie’s house. The car slowed down as it approached. When it looked like they would stop, Temp reached into his glove compartment and took out his pistol. Niko couldn’t do much of anything since he’d left his pistol at home. The four men made eye contact once their cars were parallel to each other. Jermaine and Erik kept on driving as Temp held the gun up so they could see it.
“Pussy-ass niggas,” Niko said as they drove by.
* * *
Niko stumbled out of Temp’s car feeling nice. Bishop had said that he was going in the store to buy a six pack of beer, but he’d come back with a fifth of Absolut, some cranberry juice, and some cups. The three of them proceeded to drink and smoke for the next forty-five minutes. When Temp pulled up to Niko’s house, Niko had a nice little buzz going on.
“Yo, dawg, throw this in the garbage for me,” Temp said, handing Niko the empty liquor bottle. After getting out of the car, Niko took the bottle and stumbled up the steps of his front porch.
“Damn, man, you need some help getting yo’ drunk ass up the steps?” Bishop laughed.
“Nah, man, I’m straight.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than Niko fell and almost busted his ass. Temp’s head fell onto the steering wheel as he cracked up laughing.
“Look at this clumsy muthafucka,” Bishop said, shaking his head.
“Man, that nigga ain’t clumsy. He just drunk as fuck,” Temp said as he continued laughing.
Niko gave them both the finger as he got up and dusted himself off. He could still hear them laughing as they drove off down the street. Niko then turned around and headed for the front door. Twice he dropped his key as he attempted to stick it in the lock. Once he was able to unlock the door, Niko staggered through the hallway, feeling nice. He stepped on the bottom step and took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was fall back down the stairs. He grabbed on to the railing and half walked, half pulled himself up the stairs. Once he got to the top, he quickly walked forward.
He wasn’t smashed, but he was tipsy enough that he didn’t want to stand on the edge and take a chance on falling back down the stairs. Niko leaned and walked at the same time as he approached his mother’s door on the right. He thought it was strange that her door was open. He glanced inside as he passed by and quickly turned his head away as he saw his mother sprawled out on her bed, asshole naked. He shook his head in disgust and kept on walking. It wasn’t like his mother to leave her door open like that, and he was starting to wonder why.
As he came to his room, he heard noises inside. He reached into his waistband for his pistol, but then remembered that it was in his room in the closet. Then he looked at the bottle he’d forgotten to throw away and clutched it tight. He looked at the door, which was slightly ajar, and gripped the bottle even tighter. Slowly, he pushed the door open and tiptoed inside.
Anger rushed through him when he spotted James counting up money he’d made with his Young Lionz crew. James’s back was turned to him, but Niko could almost see the cocky smirk on his face from the back. He could also see that James had found his pistol. It was lying on the bed. Just as Niko was about to sneak up behind him and take him out, James’s cell phone vibrated on his hip. When James decided to answer it, Niko stopped. He wanted to see who the fuck James was talking to and what he was talking about.
“Hello? Hey, baby,” James said to whoever was on the other end. “I know. But check this shit out. I just made a come up. This bitch’s son must be slangin’ or somethin’. This nigga got all kind of bread stashed in his closet. The li’l muthafucka even had a fuckin’ gun in there, too.”
Niko’s rage grew by the second as he listened to James talk to his other bitch about him and his mother.
“Almost, baby. This nigga gotta have about six or seven thousand dollars here, and I’ma take all of this shit. As soon as I get done fleecin’ this li’l punk, I’ma meet you at the airport so we can take that trip.”
Niko gripped the bottle so tight it almost cracked.
“Nah, I ain’t worried about that. I drugged her ass up real good, so that bitch ain’t gonna wake up no time soon.”
Niko couldn’t take anymore. He stormed up behind James and brought the bottle down on his head with such force it knocked James out instantly. Glass exploded and flew through the air.
As James crashed to the floor, blood seeped from his skull and spread out onto the floor. Niko spat on him as he snatched his cell phone off the floor. He put the cell phone to his ear and listened to the woman on the other end as she called James’s name over and over again.
“Sorry to fuck up yo’ plans, bitch, but James’s ass ain’t gonna be able to make that trip.”
Niko hung up and threw the phone at the wall, shattering it into ten pieces. He then stomped James in the head with his Timberland boots, causing the back of his head to leak blood. He was so mad he wanted to kill James right then. But instead, he came up with another plan. Niko grabbed James by the ankles and dragged him out of the room. When his mother woke up, he didn’t want her to think that he had anything to do with James catching a beatdown.
He dragged him to the cusp of his mother’s bedroom door and let James’s feet fall to the floor. After that, he ran into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and wet it. He cleaned up the blood that had been smeared from his room to his mother’s door. Niko went back into his room and gathered his money and gun, and he packed a few clothes. He walked back out of his room and down the hallway. As he passed James, he spat on him again. He didn’t want to see his mother naked again, so he didn’t bother to look into her bedroom.
He didn’t know what kind of drugs James had used to render his mother unconscious, but he was hoping that she woke up before he did. Niko walked down the steps and stormed out of the house. When his mother awoke, she would find her boyfriend lying on the floor in front of her bedroom. How she found him, either dead or alive, didn’t make much difference to Niko.