Chapter 12

 

K.C., Spin, Rod and D-loc were all at a house Spin bought as a gambling spot. Most of the underworld came to drink, smoke and most of all gamble at the house. The house usually came alive once the sun went down and really began poppin’ around ten until the sun made its first appearance over the horizon.

It was past midnight, and the house was packed with every pimp, drug dealer, thief and conman that could fit. Every man was checked at the door for weapons, but it was a fool to think no one was packin’. The place was an armory, and it would amaze the world at how civilized one became even after losing a small fortune. The O.G’s were about respect and knew when to quit. You win some, you lose some was their philosophy. The youngsters were all scared of Spin and his crew, so they kept their tempers in check.

Spin and K.C. were sitting at a poker table in the back of the place trying their damned hardest to win all the cash in the men around the table’s pockets. Spin was up five hundred, and K.C. was up seven grand.

D-loc was in the next room trimmin’ the youngsta’s dumb enough to throw down.

Rod was playing black jack and losing badly in the kitchen.

The evening was quite quiet. The men drank and smoked giving the place a stuffy closed in musty smell. There was a haze of ghostly white hanging around in the place. Music played throughout the rooms as the yells or excited voices from winners, losers and shit talkers exploded here and there. The rest of the voices were murmurs and low talking. There had been no sore losers so far, no arguments or threats of a fight or killing. Everyone was pretty buddy-buddy so far, and that pleased Buddy. Though he liked the excitement or when it got violent, and he had to step in and put hands on a nigga, a silent night was very much appreciated.

Buddy was six foot six, a solid three twenty, and it was all muscle and show. Buddy was virtually harmless and secretly loved to sing gospel. It did not fit his image, so he kept it to himself. No one knew about the choir he sang in at his church in Antioch. It was believed that he’d done time in prison, hence the so called prison muscles. The only institution Buddy had ever been to was U.C. Berkeley where he got a masters in fitness thanks to T-money. He worked in the day time as a personal trainer at the Magic Johnson’s Super Sport 24hour Fitness in Richmond. By night Buddy ran the gambling houses back when T-money first started opening them up. When T-money got killed, and Spin took over Buddy knew how to play his cards. He acted as if he had no feelings what-so-ever for T-money.

“Money’s money mayne. As long as I get paid I’ll do my job no matter who’s in charge,” he explained to Spin the first night he came through the door trying to flex his new found muscle. When Spin inquired about the three other spots T-money established Buddy shrugged and said, “I didn’t know he had others. I only look out for this place.” That wasn’t technically a lie. He’d actually helped set up and train the men keeping an eye on the places in San Francisco, Richmond and San Jose.

Buddy carried a .357 in a shoulder holster in case his size was not enough though that had never been the case before. He was seated in a chair by the front door when the doorbell rang. He thought it was strange, because the doorbell never rang. Everyone knocked everywhere. A few people glanced at the door but only for a second before continuing what they were doing. Buddy stepped to the peephole and looked out with a frown. A white girl stood there in a pink pair of pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, a terry cloth pink robe and what looked like pink bunny slippers.

Buddy instantly thought it was one of the next door neighbors coming over about the noise. He thought it was strange not because she was there to complain about the noise, but she was a white woman in Oakland. She looked not only white but off the T.V. white, the type of woman with money, the type of white person who moves to South African to prove they are no different than black people. The other thing was white people were good at sensing danger, but she seemed to be oblivious to it. Buddy thought she was probably one of those white women who were fearless and spoke her mind ignoring the danger. The last thing that struck him as strange was this was the first time in the many years since he began running the place that anyone’s came to complain about anything.

It’s a first time for everything he thought wondering if she’d just moved into the neighborhood. He watched as she reached out to ring the doorbell again.

Buddy unlocked the locks and opened the door a crack. He stuck his head out and smiled down at her. She was cute and looked young.

“Sup?”

She reached back to put her honey blonde hair into a pony tail as she said, “I’m here to see K.C.”

Buddy saw what he thought was a shoulder holster under her robe.

But it couldn’t be

Buddy ignored it and looked her up and down starting to tell her K.C. did not live there nor was he there. That was the standard reply in case a baby’s momma showed up. The only way anyone was getting past Buddy was if they were spending money, and in that case they’d need the password. Mind not wanting to believe his eyes were mistaking Buddy realized he did see a holster and that the woman had cop written all over her. And if he was right she would not be getting past him without a warrant, he knew that much.

“Look, before you lie to me I just want you to know I am only here for K.C. I do not want to hurt anyone, now, would you be so kind.”

Buddy lifted his eyebrow and had to smile so he wouldn’t laugh. Was she serious? Hurt someone? Buddy shook his head and said, “I’ll tell him you-”

“-Helen,” she said.

“Helen’s here for him,” he said pulling his head in and beginning to close the door. The door did not close all the way and before Buddy could realize what was going on she knocked.

“It’s cold out here, may I come in and wait?” she asked.

Buddy was shaking his head before she finished her question. “Sorry I—”

She sighed, “Alright. I tried to be nice.”

Buddy watched as she took off her robe and began folding it up. She had on a double shoulder holster with a glock in each. Buddy could tell the holsters were custom made. Along the straps over the shoulder were little shards of metal which Buddy recognized as knives.

‘the fuck? Buddy thought trying to push the door closed and grab his magnum at the same time. The door suddenly and forcefully flew back into his nose sending him reeling back to the ground. He quickly jumped to his feet as the woman stepped into the house closing the door behind her.

“Bitch! You don’t know who you’re fuckin’ with,” Buddy’s muffled voice yelled as Helen advanced. Smiling she put her hands up. Rubbing his nose and trying to ignore the pain he laughed at her gesture. He could knock a man twice his size out with one blow, so he knew she wouldn’t stand a chance, she’d be a pushover. But he would not hit her, she was a woman. He’d just hold her and disarm her because a bullet from a woman would do equal damage as one from a man. Buddy was quick for his size. He opened his arms to bear hug her.

The first hit was in his throat which he clutched at gasping for air. The second hit was in his testicles, and as he fell she came with the third hit, a knee she brought up into his stomach forcing the air out of his lungs.

The sight of the little white woman taking down the giant was shocking in the way that no one registered the danger as they stared from the kitchen and sofas in the living room area amazed.

Helen counted six men. Five on and around the sofa, one playing video games on a large T.V. and one who walked out of the hall and one who walked out of the kitchen. It wasn’t until she reached for a knife that they all reacted. Smiling Helen threw one of the knives into the stomach of a man coming out of the kitchen and then one into the thigh of the man who walked in from the hall. Helen ran towards the couch at full speed and speared one man into the wall. Turning around she round housed another and grabbed a knife with her left hand as she brought out a gun with her right. The knife went into the man’s shoulder. One of the other men pulled out a knife and Helen smiled. Advancing fast she grabbed his wrist and twisted it causing him to howl in pain, however, before the scream could become more than a squeal she dropped his hand and grabbed his throat hard steadily applying pressure on the sides of his neck. Her grip was firm as he clawed at her hand squirming. Not fazed by the scratching of her hand she re-holstered her glock and grabbed a knife.

She’d brought the knife to rest in the man’s stomach when two hands grabbed her from behind. Without hesitation she threw her head back hard into someone’s nose and with a hard back kick she sent him flying into the plasma screen. Helen kicked the man she’d been holding in his testicles, and he went down with a grunt. “Only I can bring a knife to a gun fight,” she said to his unconscious form on the floor.

“What the fuck!?”

She turned and saw a young black man staring around the room.

“Shhh,” she said putting her finger up to her lips with wide eyes. He was reaching into his pants and screaming. Within seconds people began popping their heads from everywhere around the house.

Helen smiled pulling out both her guns. “This is going to be fun,” she said pulling the triggers with a smile. She took extreme caution not to kill anyone; only because it posed a challenge to shoot around vital organs and avoid a head shot. She shot arms, stomachs, legs and everything else which would cause pain but would keep you alive.

Helen made her way quickly to the back room where a poker game was still in progress oblivious to the noise in the rest of the house. Adrenaline coursing through her veins she kicked the door in as she reloaded her glocks.

“What the fuck?” someone yelled at the same time she shot the dealer in his ass.

“Why does everyone keep asking that?” she said rolling her eyes holding her guns and pointing them around the room. Hands were up. She spotted K.C. next to Spencer. She smiled. “Hi, I’m Helen,” she said pulling the trigger and sending a bullet through his left eye. She quickly turned to leave as a door down the hall opened. Then as if she was thinking twice or trapped she turned to Spencer. “Get up,” she instructed. He slowly stood, and she shot him in the thigh.

He screamed as he grabbed his leg falling hard cursing.

Smiling she took a deep breath thinking I love this shit.

The hall was filling as she plotted her daring escape through the front door.

I came in through the front, and that’s how I’ll leave she thought to herself walking into the hall. I have to get my robe.

Helen knew she’d get yelled at for what she’d just done, especially for shooting Spencer. She’d just have to remind them that it was just his leg, she could have easily made it his head.