“Say you got the bitch responsible for what happened huh?” I asked with a snort.
We had different opinions when it came to who was responsible. It was Zeke. And shit… maybe it was me. Even if it was a little. But the bitch sitting in the chair? Nah. It wasn’t on her. Zeke wasn’t the brightest but I expected better out of him. What I could see was that he’d reacted off emotion. When he knew, first hand, that in this business… or hell, in life in general… there was no room to make decisions based purely off emotion. Emotions will get you fucked up every single time.
“So, what? You gon’ kill her?” Kiss asked. “When you weren’t supposed to be makin plays in the first place?”
Zeke was quiet for a second. He looked between the four of us. Pacing, he looked again. There it was. That realization of fucking up. I watched as his stride flipped. Noticed when his eyebrows bounced a little. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he’d fucked up royally. Tying this bitch up, bringing her out here. Hell, bringing us out here to witness it was a dumb ass move to make.
“The move would’ve been legit if?—”
“If you hadn’t made it in the first place,” Kiss interrupted.
My eyes went back to Becky. She squirmed, trying to free herself from the metal chair. Eyes wide, looking back and forth between us, scared as hell.
“Damn,” Zeke mumbled, stroking his chin. “You right. I—damn!”
“You want me to take this bitch back to the block?” Cash asked.
Zeke glanced at him, roughly ran his hand over the top of his head again and shook it. Kiss said a couple of words. Called Zeke dumb. Said he’d wasted our time. Said he’d done all of that shit for no reason. Said he was the one responsible. Said that if anybody needed to be strapped to the chair it was him. Zeke ate it. Took it and didn’t say shit. If I said I was surprised by any of this, I’d be lying. This was Zeke. Wild card. Impulsive. Quickto prove a point. Or try to at least. It wasn’t what happened that weighed heavy on him—it was what I thought that had him down. He didn’t like to look incompetent. He didn’t like to look like the fuck up that he was. He wanted to correct it. This didn’t correct a thing. This made things harder. Not on him, but on me. I had a ton of patience. Despite Zeke constantly weighing heavy on it… I was patient. He was baby bro—some things would fall between the cracks with him.
I watched as he kneeled at the chair. Looking up, he asked Cash for a knife to unleash her. Cash walked up, handed him a pocket knife, and Zeke slashed at the thick tape. Before she could get her legs good enough away from the chair, I walked up, put my gun against her head and pulled the trigger, catching Zeke and Cash off guard.
Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and mumbled, “Father forgive me.”
Zeke, steady kneeling at the chair, covered in ‘Becky’, hung his head low. I didn’t know if it was with disappointment or embarrassment. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck.
She couldn’t just go.
I couldn’t just let her walk out of here.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Zeke… he couldn’t have been that stupid to think I’d let the bitch walk. She was a crackhead, yeah. But she was a crackhead who had been close to getting murdered and she’d seen my face.
“I was goin’ take her back to the block…” mumbled Cash as I walked by him, heading out of the warehouse.
“She said what?”I asked Rocc, holding my phone on my shoulder with my head, as I peeled moms an orange.
He took a deep breath and paused. “She ain’t riding with me. She don’t know me. Slammed the door in my face and everything.”
I sucked my teeth and took the phone off my shoulder. Hitting the FaceTime button, I told him to knock on the door again. He was at Sereia’s spot, picking her up for me. I texted her a couple ago, letting her know a ride was coming for her. She didn’t like it. Said she wasn’t getting in the car with just anybody. I didn’t think she was serious, so I paid it no mind and sent Rocc to grab her anyway.
She was dead ass apparently.
After Rocc tapped on the door again, I pushed the oranges aside and stared into the camera, waiting for her to open up. A couple of seconds later, the door opened and she peeked out. When I saw her face, I called her name.
“I just told you I was sending somebody to come scoop you?—”
“And I told you I wasn’t getting in the car with just anybody.”
I brushed my hand down over my head and looked towards the living room where my mother sat in her usual spot, watching The Bernie Mac Show.
“I need you to leave with him, Sereia. I’m tied up at the moment. Can’t leave. If I could, I would have came and got you. You know that right?”
She scratched the back of her head and looked off. “Why couldn’t you have sent Kiss or… Zeke?”
“Tied up, too. Rocc’s a good dude. I trust him. That says a lot. So,” I paused and took a deep breath. “You can too.”
“I don’t even know what you got me on,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
I understood her hesitation. I mean, I really did. If the roles were reversed, I would have been a little hesitant too butthere were facts in this situation that should have made her comfortable.
