Read For the Strength of You Online

Authors: Victor L. Martin

For the Strength of You (14 page)

“Shit!” He lowered himself closer to the ground and silenced the ringer.
“Yeah, who dis?” he said, licking his dry lips.
“Wood C, nigga. Where you at?” Wood C whispered.
“Near a cow field,” Anshon replied then shot the same question back to Wood C.
“Hiding in somebody's back yard under a truck,” Wood C whispered. “Deck ain't answering his phone. You seen 'im?”
“We split up at the school,” Anshon whispered while looking around with quick jerks.
“Yo . . . I'ma holla.”
“A'ight.”
When he slid the slim phone back into his chest pocket, he went back on the move. The cows ignored him as he crouched down near the fence. He thought of his sister as he stood up to jog across another field.
The pain was still there. His quest for revenge hadn't changed a damn thing, except his fate. Tammy's words of advice rang in his mind:
Don't let the game be your demise.
Anshon prayed to God to let him reach Peedin Street. If not, he'd be beggin' for the Lord to let him in Heaven's door. So he kept running.
He knew he had to be careful crossing Highway 70, so he paused at the edge of the woods and waited for the right chance. Anshon realized the spot he was in was spelling out his life to him. He could see the overpass, and further down 70 to his left was a place he never wanted to see again: prison. To his right and a few miles down the road was the cemetery, a place where his sister and Momma rested in peace, a place he wasn't ready to visit just yet, but if it came down to it, he'd pick the right over the left. That left nothing but moving forward to reach home.
He said Monica's name, laced up his kicks, cocked the hammer back, and dashed across the four-lane highway. His inspection didn't pick out the two Selma's finest parked in the cut.
“Freeze! Police!”
Chapter 11
Monica sat at her kitchen table next to Fe-Fe, with her hand on her cell phone and the cordless on the table. The two women were both worried about the same man. When Fe-Fe told Monica about the twins, she nearly fainted. There was no doubt in her mind that Anshon would kill them both. She just wanted her man to come home. Fuck everything else.
“You sure they didn't tell you where they took Wallo?” Monica asked with tears running down her face.
Fe-Fe shook her head slowly side to side. They both had their car keys within reach, and when Monica's cordless phone rang, she answered it before the first ring was completed.
“Hello!”
She prayed she would hear Anshon's voice. It was Deck. He told her that he needed a ride and that he would meet her at the Pizza Hut in Smithfield. Deck had put some miles on his Reeboks and was in the clear. He had ditched his MAC-11. When he told her that Wood C and Anshon was still on the run, she nearly dropped the phone.
Fe-Fe rushed to pick it up, and Deck repeated everything he'd just said to Monica. Fe-Fe snatched up her keys and ran out the door to go pick up the stranded Deck. Monica sat back down and started to cry uncontrollably. She wanted Anshon.
* * *
Wood C had somehow made it to McDonald's on 301 and was now sitting in the front eating his meal and trying to blend in. Police were still heading down toward the high school. He'd broke his cell phone when he dove from a pair of headlights as he crept through the white neighborhood next to the school's campus. Once he was in the clear, he dropped his two .40s in a plastic trashcan. He planned to calm his nerves down then bum a ride back to Selma, which he guessed would be easy.
He was biting into his Quarter Pounder when he saw Fe-Fe's Legend slow down for a red light on 301.
Fe-Fe was still praying for Anshon as she sat at the red light. It was a long wait, and just as she came off the brake, Wood C swung the door open, scaring the shit out of Fe-Fe.
“Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!” Wood C said, slamming the door. She pulled off.
They both tried to talk at the same time. Fe-Fe won. She told him about Deck then asked about Anshon. Wood C was happy to hear about Deck, but as of now, Anshon was still on the run.
“Once we pick up Deck, hit Buffalo Road. Lemme see your cell phone.” He checked the side mirror—no blue lights.
Fe-Fe told him she didn't have a cell phone.
“Damn!” he said, slamming his fist on the dashboard.
Deck was standing in the parking lot when they pulled up. When he saw Wood C, he asked about Anshon as he got into the back seat. Deck pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Anshon's cell number. He didn't answer.
“Roadblock.” Fe-Fe sighed as they rounded the corner near Smithfield Middle School. Blue lights were everywhere.
“Fuck!” Wood C said.
When a helicopter flew over with a blinding spotlight, Wood C clenched his fists. The police had Buffalo Road locked down and made them turn around.
* * *
Anshon was on the run again, and this time they were on his ass. He had followed their command to freeze, but a passing eighteen-wheeler had blinded the four police that were two deep in each squad car.
Anshon made the .50 throw up. He eased back on the trigger, making the gorilla erupt in his hand.
Boom!
A slug punched a police in the chest, killing him instantly.
Boom!
A slug flattened a tire.
Boom!
A slug shattered the second squad car's side window.
He took off for the woods and reloaded the .50 on the run. Five shots left. God had to be looking down on him when he tripped over a tree stump, as the police opened up with an AR-15, talking in rapid succession. Branches fell on his back as the rapid fire continued to blaze over his head.
He fired one shot over his shoulders.
Boom!
When the helicopter roared over the treetops with its bright light, he became disoriented. He got himself together, came to his feet, and ran. Fuck looking back; he wanted to move forward. Thorns cut into his face and neck, tearing at his skin, but he kept moving without missing a step. Pain would come later. His chest was on fire, but he kept running.
When he ran into the dog pound, he knew he was almost home. He was about to cut to the right when something hot hit him in the arm, spinning him around. He slammed into a tree. He rolled over to his stomach and easily found the gleaming .50.
His left arm had been hit by a stray round. Ignoring his useless arm, he got up and ran. He could hear the police yelling out to each other as the helicopter buzzed the treetops with its blinding light.
He dove to the ground just as the spotlight moved over him. He gritted his teeth and willed his wounded arm to support the .50. He raised it up as the spotlight moved near him. When the light blinded him, he eased back on the trigger.
BOOM!
He completely missed the light, but the slang easily punched through the bottom-viewing window in the cockpit and hit the co-pilot in the stomach after the slug first traveled up through his leg.
The pilot shrieked and banked the helicopter in a tight turn as the co-pilot spewed blood all over the cockpit.
Taking a deep breath, Anshon got up and ran through the woods. He burst out of the woods, running as fast as he could. His heart was pounding, and sweat covered his face, which set his face on fire from the open cuts.
He ran in the angle that would allow him to go through his back yard. He could see Selma's finest accelerating down Peedin Street five deep with the blue lights flashing. Suddenly, Anshon stumbled and fell flat on his face.
* * *
Monica ran to the front door when the police rode by. Deck had called to tell her that Anshon was still on the run. Tears ran down her face as she looked down the road. Plum and Dee were also standing outside. “Baby, please.” Monica cried to herself. “Please come home.”
* * *
Deck was on his way back to Peedin Street with Fe-Fe. Wood C was now sitting behind a bush at the corner of Preston and Massey Street when he saw the K-9 unit coming. Just as it reached his hiding spot, he ran to the curb and emptied Deck's little .32.
POP, POP, POP, POP, POP, POP!
It caused the driver to lose control and hit the curb at forty miles per hour, breaking the rim as the tire blew. Wood C hoped it would help. He took off running and vanished with ease.
* * *
Anshon was almost home, but he was past exhausted. He was now in the field behind his trailer. His cell phone didn't work, so he had to make a quiet entrance. He was bleeding badly, but the wound could have been worse. He fell to his knees then rolled to his side. He was too tired, too weak. He silently cried.
He got up once more but collapsed after five steps. As he was getting to his feet, he heard the K-9 and knew it would follow his blood trail, and if the dog didn't kill him, the police would.
He refused to go back to prison. “Big sis!” he sobbed as he held the .50 to his head. He closed his eyes and slowly eased back on the trigger....
EPILOGUE
Ten Months Later
Selma, NC
 
Fe-Fe stood at the gravesite holding her two-month-old baby girl, Tammy, with grief resting in her heart. Next to her stood Monica, holding her six-week-old baby boy, Anshon, and she too had grief resting in her heart. They were both paying their respects to someone they cared about deeply and missed.
Monica placed a single red rose on the gravesite as tears rolled down her cheek. After they said their silent good-byes, they both turned to hug each other.
“You be safe, okay?” Fe-Fe said.
Monica wiped her eyes. “I will, Fe-Fe. Just stay in touch with me.”
“I promise,” Fe-Fe said before she turned to leave.
Monica watched her best friend slowly walk away. She was happy for Fe-Fe and Wood C, who were now together. Fe-Fe had legal custody of her twins again, and the five of them lived up in Richmond, Virginia.... Really it was six if you wanted to count the new seed Wood C had baking in Fe-Fe's oven.
Fe-Fe hated lying to Monica about Wood C being li'l Tammy's father, but little did Fe-Fe know, Monica knew the truth. The baby looked too much like Anshon for anything to be denied.
As Wood C neared his gleaming 300C, he opened the door for his queen then kissed her lightly on the lips. They both waved good-bye then slowly pulled out of the quiet cemetery, and that was Fe-Fe's and Wood C's ending.
As for Deck, he was still in Selma. He now ran a barbershop on Raiford that supported his brand new triple-wide trailer out in Southern Estates. He no longer took up space in Wood C's 300C passenger seat. He now had Anshon's Chevy.
Larrisha and her brother Von moved to Los Angeles.
Monica neared the shiny QX56 then wiped her teary eyes. She leaned over to kiss her baby. A few moments later, they were heading for I-95 South to begin a new life down in Miami, Florida. Tammy had made her promise her before she died that they would take the spot in Miami as soon as Anshon got out of the game.
“Well, baby,” Monica said, looking up to the sky, “I guess this is it.”
Enjoy this sample from:
Hold U Down
by Keisha Ervin
Available September 2016 in Mass
Market paperback
1
Simply Unique
“I got no time for fake niggas . . . Just sip some Cristal with these real niggas . . . From East to West Coast we spread love niggas . . . And while you niggas talk shit we count bank figures,”
Unique sang with her eyes behind shades, strolling down the streets of L.A.
Fresh to death with Moschino bags, Unique and Tha Get Money Crew strutted down Robertson Boulevard, looking as if they could have been young socialites or
Sex and the City
knockoffs. Unique, a.k.a. Nique, Kiara, Kay Kay, and Zoë had the best of everything—great looks, cars with chrome spinners, designer outfits, and money.
None of them needed a man for anything, but most of the niggas they fucked wit' were tricks. It was nothing for a man to pay all of their bills. The girls always stayed fly. They all lived life by their own rules. Falling in love was a no-no. To them, men were looked upon as pawns, mere playthings. Catching feelings was forbidden and looked at as a sign of disloyalty. Only rough sex and getting money was allowed. Their motto,
Niggas Ain't Nothing but Hoes and Tricks,
was tattooed on each of their lower backs.
Kiara, a single mother of one, was the loudmouth of the crew. Tall and caramel, with full lips and an attitude to match, Kiara butted heads with Unique often. Kay Kay, her identical twin, was the peacemaker, silent type. She kept it gully and always kept her feelings close to her heart. Zoë, the feisty, petite, mahogany-colored mamacita held it down for real. She was down for whatever, even if it meant putting her own life in danger.
Unique, the leader of the clique, had one thing and one thing only on her mind at all times—money. It kept her alive and on the grind, thirsting for more. Hustling was the song she sang, and getting money was all she knew. The only men she ever loved were dead ones—Benjamin Franklin and Andrew Jackson.
With smooth peanut butter skin, big brown eyes, Egyptian cheekbones, plump lips, red hair with blonde highlights, and a pretty smile to match, she captured the male species' hearts. Reaching about five foot five in height, Unique wasn't a slim chick. Her hips rounded out to be size ten, and her full breasts filled out a C cup bra. On her left shoulder she had a set of praying hands tattooed with the words
Lord Forgive Me
underneath. To most, she was considered a lethal weapon. She was often compared to the singer Keyshia Cole, but to her crew, she was just their girl and the one who called all the shots.
“Niggas ain't shiiiit!” Unique stomped her foot, slamming her Nextel shut.
“What did Tone do now?” Kiara asked.
“That was Patience. She told me she saw Tone riding down Lucas and Hunt with Robin! Then she said that her friend Chantell's sister seen him at Toxic later on that night Big Willyin' it up.”
“Ain't she the same chick that blew his cell phone up last week?” Zoë questioned.
“Yeah, that's her. I swear to God I hate that black muthafucka. He thinks just because he pays all of my bills that he can cheat and do whatever he wants.”
“I don't know why men think they can cheat, like we won't find out.” Zoë shook her head and laughed.
“Because they stupid, that's why! They think with their penises and not their brains, stupid bastards!”
“Just hit them pockets up when you get home.”
“That's what's up, but have you seen that bitch? She ugly than a muthafucka,” Kay Kay added.
“The bitch is wack! She's a broke, bummy, Reebok broad! I mean, come on, look at me! How the fuck he gon' cheat on me with a project chick?” Unique stated, looking over her physique.
“Okay, bitch, you can quit feeling yourself, 'cause remember pussy don't have no face.” Zoë grinned.
“I don't know why you getting mad. It ain't like you gon' leave him.” Kiara rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth.
“That's not the point! It's the principle of the whole thing! As long as that nigga continue to provide for me then I'm good to go! But it pisses me off because the nigga be trying to act like it's all about me when he's out fuckin' other hoes! But you know what? It's all good because I'm getting mine in the end. Love should never be in the equation when it comes to a relationship anyway, 'cause once you allow yourself to love that muthafucka, everything in your life becomes about him and eventually you lose yourself!” Staring off into space, Unique knew that her speech was more about her mother than herself.
“Look, when it all boils down to it, you getting paid, so fuck all that other bullshit and continue to get money,” Zoë assured.
“Right, so calm down. You should be used to the shit by now. Y'all been fuckin' around forever, and he has cheated the whole time. Ain't none of this shit new to you,” Kiara continued.
“Yeah, just keep on tagging them pockets every time he fuck up,” Kay Kay chimed in.
“Fuck all this bullshit. We gotta hurry and get back to the hotel so we can do this shit,” Unique said, shaking off the whole situation.
“So, what's the deal wit' your boy, Nique?” Kiara asked.
“I set it up for him to meet me at The Ivy at eight o'clock. Eric's gonna have this valet guy named Thomas to park the Murcielago around the back in the far right corner of the parking lot.”
“So, basically all I have to do is get the keys from Eric.”
“Yeah, but I told him that you would give him the other three hundred when you got the keys.”
“Shit, this crackin' up to be one of our easiest licks ever.” Zoë grinned.
“Don't get it twisted. You never know what could happen,” Unique cautioned as she eyed a green Foley dress in the Lisa Kline store window.
“Yo, chill, Nique. Don't nobody want to hear that shit before a lick,” Kiara said, annoyed.
“This real talk. If you don't like it then don't listen. Y'all hoes need to realize that we could get knocked at any moment for this shit. Don't let this money go to yo' head.” Unique checked her as the wind blew through her hair.
“Yeah, I am feeling myself too much, ain't I?”
“As usual.”
“Yo, Nique, I just got a text from that nigga Bub up in VA,” Zoë declared, going through her two-way.
“Hit that nigga back and see what's up,” Unique replied, still entranced by the dress.
“Yeah, that nigga had a bad-ass Mercedes-Benz.” Kay Kay nodded her head.
“Right. We can make at least a fifty Gs off that,” Kiara added.
“I know, right? Let me hit this nigga up right now,” Zoë said, getting excited.
After hitting a couple more stores, Unique and the girls headed back to the hotel to prepare for the heist. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Unique wondered just how long she could continue stealing cars for a living. She and her cousins had been in the game for three years, but recently the life had begun to take a toll on her soul. Unique's pockets stayed on swole, but her conscience was eating her up every day.
She constantly wondered if old victims were out to get her. The shit had her paranoid. Something inside told her that something was about to jump off, but she just couldn't pinpoint it. Money kept on coming in, and her clientele continued to grow, but being the leader of a banging organization didn't satisfy her anymore. Yeah, Unique had the fringe benefits of clothes, jewelry, and cars, but Cezar, the guy she worked for, was the one who really saw the most dough. He was the real balla.
Two years after meeting Tone, her boyfriend of five years, Unique had linked up with Cezar. He was a good-looking, get-money nigga from the south side of St. Louis. Even though he was fine, Unique didn't look at him like that. She saw something more in Cezar than just being his girlfriend or chick on the side. Unique needed a side hustle, and Cezar was the perfect nigga to help her get on the grind. Refusing to hit the block, Unique decided to do what she did best—steal.
After a little research, she learned that Cezar already had a small ring of car thieves on his payroll. The little crew of niggas he had working for him wasn't really pulling in dough, so Unique, being the chick she was, offered her services. At first, Cezar was a little apprehensive because to him, a chick wouldn't know anything about stealing cars. Underestimating her talents because of her gender, Cezar slept on Unique's skills.
After recruiting her cousins to be a part of her crew, Unique hit the ground running. As a test, Cezar gave her and the girls the task of stealing an '03 Cadillac STS worth sixty grand. He just knew that Unique would be calling him from jail, begging him to bail her out; but he was wrong. Unique and the girls not only copped the STS, but for show they copped a Mercedes-Benz as well. Cezar was dumfounded to say the least. In a matter of months, Unique and Tha Get Money Crew stole over a half million dollars' worth of cars.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she asked, “How do I look?”
“You look fly as hell, ma,” Zoë replied.
“Yeah, even with that ugly-ass wig you got on, you look good,” Kiara joked.
“Fuck you.” Unique smirked, putting her middle finger up.
“That dress is bad. You gon' have to let me borrow that when we go out.”
“That's cool, but look, I'm running late, so give me a hug.” Standing in a circle, they all wrapped their arms around one another and hugged. “Y'all know that we gotta be safe and discreet. I love you, and I'll meet you at the airport.”
“A'ight, we love you too,” Kay Kay replied.
“A'ight then, I'm up,” Unique said as she left out the door with her bags in tow.
* * *
Pulling up to The Ivy, Unique searched for Rico's car, but she didn't spot him. She then looked for Eric. He was right in place. After she smoothed her dress down, she stepped out of her rented Lexus SC 430 and handed him the keys. Unique turned her attention to the busy intersection as she heard a loud engine soaring up the street.
Spotting Rico, she smiled. His yellow Lamborghini stood out among the sea of conservative vehicles. Waving at him, she caught his attention. As he got out, Unique couldn't help but be attracted to him. Tall, handsome, and muscular were the only words to describe him.
“You take this one. I'm tired,” Eric said to Thomas, baiting him.
“You look beautiful.” Rico kissed Unique's left cheek.
“Thank you. You look nice as well.”
“Can I take your keys, sir?” Thomas, the anxious valet driver, asked.
“I'm not sure if I want to do the valet thing tonight.”
“I promise that your car will be returned to you in tip-top shape, sir. I'm the best valet driver here,” Thomas boasted. Looking at him, Unique saw that Eric was right—Thomas was a suck-up.
“Sweetie, this is a very nice restaurant. Your car will be safe,” Unique added as she put her hand on his shoulder for reassurance.
“I don't think you understand, Lisa. This is a Murcielago. This car is worth ten of their yearly salaries,” Rico said, calling Unique by one of her many aliases and not even knowing it. Wanting to smack the holy shit out of him for being so rude but holding her tongue, Unique tried to reason with him.
“Baby, trust me. Everything will be fine,” she spoke seductively into his ear.
“I don't know, Lisa. I'd rather park it myself,” he said, confused and turned on at the same time.
“If you let them park the car for you, I promise I will give you a very special treat tonight,” Unique purred, massaging his dick.
“Um, sir, have you made up your mind? We have other people waiting,” Thomas asked, eying Unique's hand moving in a circular motion.
“All right, but make sure you keep a close eye on my baby,” Rico instructed, throwing Thomas the keys.
“Yes, sir. I will.”
Forty-five minutes later, Unique and Rico sat gazing into each other's eyes as they ate lobster and steak. Slow, tranquil music played in the background as Rico became lost in her eyes while he thought about the promise she had made to him earlier. Already bored, Unique stared off into space, ignoring his every word.
“Lisa, did you hear me? I said dessert just arrived.”
“I'm sorry, baby. My mind was somewhere else.” Checking her watch, Unique excused herself from the table and went into the restroom. Pulling out her cell, she called Zoë.
“Y'all there yet?” she asked.
“Yeah, we just pulled up.”
“A'ight.”
“A'ight then, one,” Zoë said, hanging up.
Flipping her phone closed, Unique took one last look in the mirror and walked back into the restaurant. Rico smiled when he saw her walking toward him. Once she got near the table, he got up and pulled her seat out for her, wanting to be a gentleman.
“How about after dinner we head over to this nice little jazz club that I know about around the corner?” Rico suggested.
“That sounds nice,” Unique said, giving her best fake smile. Sensing that he was a little on edge, she asked, “What's wrong?”
“You know, I'm kinda worried about leaving my keys with the valet. There have been a lot of auto thefts in this area the last couple of months.”
“Rico, stop worrying about that car and let's just enjoy the evening,” she said, rubbing his hand and trying to ease his worries.
“Nah, I think I need to go out and check on my baby.” He eased up out of his chair.
“No!” Unique blurted louder than she should have. Giving her a suspicious look, Rico stopped dead in his tracks.
“I'm sorry for yelling. It's just that I came to enjoy myself, not babysit your car. The car is insured, right?”

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