Authors: Treasure Hernandez
A King is Born (3 page)
“We weren't supposed to kill nobody. That was a fuckin' jake!” Scratch yelled as they hopped in the car.
Malek quickly sped off. His mind was so messed up over the shooting, he didn't even stop to to see if there were any cars coming, and almost hit a passing car as he pulled off.
As they weaved in and out of traffic, Scratch cautioned, “Watch it, youngblood.”
“My fault.” Malek looked through his rearview mirror to make sure they weren't being followed. He hit the steering wheel with his fist. “He just ran up on me, man,” Malek yelled as he maneuvered through traffic and made the getaway. “I had to.”
Scratch kept looking back to see if anyone was behind them as they sped away, trying to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.
Malek periodically looked in his rearview and then focused back on the road. “Fuck!” he yelled again, repeatedly hitting the steering wheel.
Once again he peeked in his rearview and then looked at Scratch, who looked more nervous than ever. They had just stepped into the big leagues. Not only were they bank robbers, but possible cop killers.
Chapter Three
H
alleigh cringed at the touch of the skinny white man Mitch had called over to check on her condition. Halleigh didn't know the man, nor was he dressed in a white coat, but Mitch kept referring to him as Doc, so she assumed he was some street doctor they used in the game whenever one of their crew members got hurt or something.
alleigh cringed at the touch of the skinny white man Mitch had called over to check on her condition. Halleigh didn't know the man, nor was he dressed in a white coat, but Mitch kept referring to him as Doc, so she assumed he was some street doctor they used in the game whenever one of their crew members got hurt or something.
Halleigh felt very uncomfortable as this stranger examined the most intimate parts her body, especially with Mitch standing there watching the entire thing. At first Halleigh kept her eyes shut tight, to keep from seeing him standing there, but then she thought maybe if she did make eye contact with him, he would help her out a little.
Halleigh tried to look in Mitch's eyes, hoping that his conscience would get the better of him and he would find it in his heart to let her go. But every time she tried to lock eyes with him, he would just look away and avoid eye contact with her altogether.
After a brief exam that took all of five minutes, Doc put his stethoscope and other tools inside his small gray leather bag and stood up. “Mitch, she should be fine. She just needs some rest.” Doc dug down into his leather bag and handed Mitch a bottle of pills. “And have her take a couple of these aspirin. She'll be okay.”
Doc also avoided eye contact with Halleigh and never spoke to her directly, just to Mitch. He walked toward the door, where Mitch was standing, and then glanced back at Halleigh. He leaned in close to Mitch and whispered, “What do you guys have going on here?”
“Get the fuck outta here.” Mitch grabbed Doc by the collar and escorted him out the door. “Jake will pay you on your way out,” he said, as the doctor hurried down the stairs.
Mitch returned to the room and focused back on Halleigh, who was balled into a fetal position. For a brief moment, he wondered if he'd done the right thing, using her to get to Malek, putting her in the middle of a street beef, when in reality she had nothing to do with the matter. Nevertheless, his pride wouldn't allow him to admit that he was wrong, nor allow him to punk out and give Malek the win by letting Halleigh go without collecting a ransom.
“It's all just a part of the game,” he whispered to himself, trying to ease the guilt that rested square on his shoulders. He walked over to Halleigh and tossed the bottle on the foot of the bed. He began to say something to her, to let her know that everything was going to be all right, but he couldn't think of any words to say. So, he didn't say anything at all. He just turned and left the room, not even offering her a glass of water to take her pills.
Halleigh heard the sound of the door closing, followed soon after by the clicking noises of the locks being turned. She glanced at the camera that Mitch had made one of his goons put in the high corner of the room, and gave the middle finger to whoever was watching her. Although she could be the sweetest, most loving and forgiving person in the world, right now Halleigh was full of nothing but pure hatred, and the object of her emotions was none other than Mitch. She hated Mitch with a deep passion.
Everything in her wished that she could kill him, but she wasn't a killer. She never had been and knew that she never would be. It just wasn't in her. But if ever she just snapped and lost her mind, Mitch would definitely be at the top of the list of all the people who'd hurt her in her life.
It was almost as if Mitch could feel the daggers of hate being shot at him by Halleigh. He'd tried to get her off of his mind by blasting his car stereo with Lil' Wayne's latest, but as he cruised down North Saginaw Street, his thoughts kept going back and forth to Halleigh being left locked up back at the spot. Something in him was urging him to go back to the spot and let her go free. “Fuck that! That nigga Malek gon' feel pain,” he said, trying to justify what he was doing to Halleigh.
He hit his steering wheel out of frustration as he jumped on the highway to go over to Keesha's house. If anything could get his mind off his wrongdoings, it was Keesha's head game.
A few minutes later, Mitch pulled into Howard Estates apartment complex, where Keesha lived, and parked his Land Rover in the handicap space. He checked his mirrors and his surroundings before he got out of the car to enter the building. He patted his hip to make sure he was strapped. After scoping the scene for a couple of seconds, he hopped out.
When he made it to Keesha's door, he noticed that it was slightly cracked. His antenna immediately went up, because he had taught Keesha to always keep her doors locked and closed, no matter what.
Mitch slowly pulled out his gun and crept into the apartment. Keesha's spot was a place he frequented, to get a shot of pussy from time to time. Anyone who knew Mitch knew this about him. They didn't have to hire a private investigator or anything to follow his trail to Keesha's. Keeping that in mind, he wondered if someone, perhaps someone like Malek, was inside waiting for him.
At that moment he wished he'd gone with his first instinct to put one of his boys on Malek, to watch him just as closely as his boys had been watching Halleigh. That way he could be sure of every move Malek was trying to make, just to make sure he didn't try something stupid. But it was too little too late for all that.
Mitch slowly crept through the door, his gun cocked and loaded. He heard the sound from the television coming from the back room. As he passed each room, he quietly peeked in, his gun aimed and ready, but nobody was in any of the rooms.
He'd peeked through every room in the house except one. As he crept toward Keesha's room, he noticed that the door was just barely open. For some reason, Mitch was expecting the worst, and his heartbeat began to pick up pace as he prepared for what he might find behind the door.
Did Malek get at Keesha for revenge?
He slowly pushed open the door.
Did Malek get at Keesha for revenge?
He slowly pushed open the door.
It would have made sense for Malek to try to pay Mitch back by pulling Keesha into this. The only problem was, as far as Mitch was concerned, Keesha wasn't anywhere near an even swap. There was no way he would come up off Halleigh for the likes of Keesha. Her head game was tight, but certainly not a half-mil tight.
Mitch, his gun pointed, swung inside the room, and what he saw blew his mind.
A naked Keesha was playing with her clitoris and looking at Mitch dead in the eyes, as if she'd been expecting him. She'd seen him pull up in front of her apartment window and decided to be waiting and ready for him.
Mitch, taken by surprise, breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He lowered his gun and watched as Keesha pleasured herself, her body shiny from the baby oil she had applied to herself. It was driving Mitch crazy.
Without saying a word, Keesha invited Mitch to join in on the fun with the mere expression on her face and look in her eyes. Mitch quickly took off his shirt and unbuckled his pants as he walked toward her, his eyes glued to her oversized pink clitoris as it stood up and pulsated, barely peeking out of her juicy vagina lips.
Mitch crawled on the bed and helped Keesha masturbate, using no hands and letting his tongue do the work. He loved the way Keesha always had something new for him, which was why he kept her around. And she had a fly-ass mouth, which kept him coming back for more.
The same adrenaline Mitch had built up when creeping in on what he thought to be a bad situation was now being redirected to the sexual encounter he was about to experience. He slipped his index finger inside of Keesha's womanhood and simultaneously played with her clitoris.
When Keesha removed her hands and let Mitch do what he did best, loud slurps echoed throughout the small apartment and, mixed with the soft moans from Keesha, created a soundtrack to their sexual escapade.
Mitch got Keesha just right and was ready to feel her warmth. He pulled out his rock-hard tool that seemed to be harder than ever and rubbed the tip against her outer lips.
Keesha looked down at Mitch's nine inches. Every single vein in his rod seemed to be trying to burst out of his penis. She watched as Mitch's tool disappeared into her, and arched her back in pure pleasure as they both let out a grunt.
Mitch began to work his magic, going as deep inside of her as he could. The feeling of his balls slamming against Keesha's other hole was giving her heaven on earth. Mitch stroked her hard and slow as he took one of her nipples in his mouth and moved his tongue as if it had a motor.
Keesha smiled as she felt herself about to explode. “Stop, stop!” she said as she put her hands on his “chance.” She didn't want to cum so quickly.
Mitch ignored her request and kept thrusting, and within seconds, a small squirt shot from her love box and onto his stomach, causing him to become more aroused. About to erupt, he stroked faster and faster. “Aghhh!” Mitch yelled as he exploded inside of Keesha, depositing a walnut-size glob. He could feel her doing “Kegels” while he was still inside of her. He collapsed on top of her, and they both lay there breathing heavily.
As Mitch lay there, he felt as though Keesha had made a liar out of him. Maybe she would have been worth the swap after all.
Chapter Four
M
alek's eyes were red from going without sleep. There was no way he could rest until he had Halleigh back. In deep concentration, he sat silently, his elbows on his knees, and his hands clasped together and propped underneath his chin.
alek's eyes were red from going without sleep. There was no way he could rest until he had Halleigh back. In deep concentration, he sat silently, his elbows on his knees, and his hands clasped together and propped underneath his chin.
Unsure of what to say, Scratch sat nearby staring at Malek. He, too, had next to no rest as he and Malek thought of ways to get Halleigh from Mitch's clutches. With the shooting of the cop on their hands, their chances of getting away with another bank robbery were slim to none.
For the past couple of hours, Malek had been racking his brain while Scratch sat there in silence, not wanting to interrupt him. Fresh out of ideas, Scratch knew it was best that he just remain quiet if he wasn't coming up with a plan to make some money to get Halleigh.
With not a word spoken in the last couple of hours, it was obvious that both Malek and Scratch were at a loss. Scratch had a bad feeling about the entire situation. He knew that the amount of money that Mitch was requesting for Halleigh's ransom was damn near impossible to acquire in such a short period of time. Back in the day, if a man demanded an outrageous ransom then, nine times out of ten, he never really had any intention of giving the kidnap victim back anyway. Scratch hoped and prayed that this wasn't the case and made sure not to let Malek on to his theory.
Malek felt Scratch's eyes on him. “What?” he asked.
Scratch simply cast his eyes downward, hoping that Malek couldn't look into them and read his mind.
“I know what you're thinking, man, but don't say it. I can't deal with that right now.” Malek let out a sigh and wiped his hands down his face. “I promise that if Halleigh doesn't come out of this, I'm not going to be able to live, man.” He shook his head in despair. “I can't live without her. I tried that before, and it doesn't work. Without Hal, there's no point in me being here, so she has to come out of this. She has to.”
Scratch wasn't so sure himself, but he tried to assure his friend. He knew he needed to be the voice of reason right now. “She will. If she can survive years on the street with a cold-blooded muthafucka like Manolo, then she should be able to get through this. Halleigh's a smart girl. I'm sure she's playing the hand she was dealt, but still, we've got to get to her quick. There's only fifty-two cards in a deck, if you know what I'm saying.”
“I feel you, but I'm not going to try to kid myself. A half-mil in seventy-two hours? We were pretty much doomed from the start.” Malek stood up and began pacing. “Perhaps we went about this all wrong in the first place. Instead of wasting time running up in banks, trying to get that paper, we should have been running up on Mitch's bitch ass.”
Scratch had to “lightweight” agree with him, but it was too late for all that now. They had to come up with something else. “You've got to think, youngblood. There's got to be a way for us to get to Halleigh besides coming through with that ransom.” Scratch looked at Malek. “You know Mitch. He was your right hand for a minute there. You know what makes him tick. You know what makes him soft. Whichever button we push, we need for him to be off his square. Everybody slips up every now and then. It's just a matter of getting caught. So what it boils down to is that we need to catch that nigga slippin', plain and simple as that.” Scratch spoke with so much confidence, the impossible now sounded possible.
Malek absorbed what Scratch was saying and realized he was right. He knew Mitch the same way Mitch knew him. The same way Mitch knew how to get at him, he could turn the tables and do the same with Mitch.
No longer pacing, Malek stood erect with confidence.
I put this nigga in the position that he's in now,
he thought.
The same way I put him in the game, I'ma have to take his ass out.
I put this nigga in the position that he's in now,
he thought.
The same way I put him in the game, I'ma have to take his ass out.
Malek couldn't take on the streets by himself, not even with old faithful Scratch by his side. Mitch had the allegiance of most hoods in Flint because he allowed anyone to eat, no matter what side of the city they were from. He had united the North and South Sides. And although Malek had love and respect in the streets, he couldn't fuck with niggas that weren't from his side of the tracks.
Sweets and the South Side would never come up on Malek's watch, which was why he was now at a disadvantage. He needed more players on his team.
I can do this, but I need help,
he reasoned.
I can't put Halleigh at risk by trying to be on some Rambo-type shit. If I make a wrong step, then she could get hurt. I can't jeopardize her like that. I've jeopardized her safety enough already. This shit is bigger than me and my ego. I have to think about her and my seed.
I can do this, but I need help,
he reasoned.
I can't put Halleigh at risk by trying to be on some Rambo-type shit. If I make a wrong step, then she could get hurt. I can't jeopardize her like that. I've jeopardized her safety enough already. This shit is bigger than me and my ego. I have to think about her and my seed.
“So,” Scratch started after watching the invisible wheels in Malek's head churn, “what are we going to do, youngblood ? 'Cause Scratch'll go out blazing to save Li'l Rina. So you just say the word and tell me the plan.”
Malek shot Scratch a serious look before taking a seat. “We're going to rob Mitch!” he said, his voice low and his eyes focused as if deep in thought. “That's our only choice. He's the only person getting money like that in the city. Even if we hit another bank, it won't produce enough money. Besides, you know every bank in town is on lock right about now. We need to hit Mitch's stash spot. Fuck it! This mu'fucka want a half a million, then I'm gonna rob him and pay him back with his own paper. It's our only way to get Hal back.”
“Okay, okay! Now you thinking, youngblood,” Scratch replied as he stood and began to pace the room. He didn't pace the floor out of nervousness or worry. He was pacing out of anxiousness. He couldn't wait to set it off. The thrill of the game had for certain crept back into Scratch's heart as a smile crossed his face, showing off his crooked, yellow teeth. “By hook or crook we gonna bring baby girl home,” Scratch declared. “But there's only one problem that I can think of.” Scratch stopped pacing and looked at Malek. “Now, I ain't been in the game in a good while, but the game don't change. I know Mitch ain't the big man. He's running the city, but he don't own no boats. He's getting his product from somewhere. If we rob Mitch, then we might potentially catch heat from his connect.”
“Then we'll go to his connect. I put Mitch on. I know Fredro through Jamaica Joe. I'm a man and I stand on my own two, but I'll do anything to get Halleigh back safely. If I got to get at Fredro to get at Mitch, then so be it. But hopefully we can avoid any excess drama if I can just call in a favor.” Malek then added, “Fredro was close to Joe, so I hope he's willing to lend me a hand.” Malek stood to his feet and walked out of the room. Before he stepped out of view, he said, “If Fredro becomes a problem, then he can get it too.”
“Hold up now, youngblood. I hear you, and I'm trying to save Halleigh too, but this is a suicide mission. Our two guns can't go up against Fredro. Just think about it.”
Malek nodded his head, let out a sigh, and then whispered, “You're right, but I've got to figure out what to do before it's too late.”
Scratch just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as he sat down to think. He didn't have a clue either, and although just a minute ago he was pumped up, he felt in his bones that this thing wasn't going to end well.
He walked over to the mirror and straightened out his crumpled clothes, popping his collar. He looked at the bruises and bloody lip that Mitch's goons had caused him and said, “That young boy Mitch got a thing or two coming, if he thinks he can fuck with good ol' Scratch and get away with it.” Scratch turned from side to side, examining his profile. “We're going to get you back, Hal.”
When Malek returned to the room, Scratch turned to him and said, “First thing we need to do is count up this money and see how much more we need to come up with.”
That thought hadn't even crossed Malek's mind. He and Scratch began to count out the money from the two bank robberies combined.
“This is only fifty-two thousand, and we done hit two banks,” Malek barked. “How do this nigga expect me to come up with five hundred thousand in three days? That shit is impossible, and he knows it.” Malek noticed his hands shaking. He picked up a stack of money and threw it back down on the table.
He didn't want to think about what Mitch would do to Halleigh if he didn't come through with the ransom. Mitch had never had anything against Halleigh, as far as Malek could tell, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do something bad to her to get back at him. After all, Malek had made Mitch look like a bitch-ass nigga in front of Keesha, so it really didn't surprise him that Mitch would want to make him look the same in front of Halleigh.
Perhaps that's all he wants to do is to make me look bad in front of Halleigh
. It was possible that Mitch never had any intention of hurting Halleigh at all. Maybe all he wanted was to just strip Malek down to nothing by getting him for all of his money.
Perhaps that's all he wants to do is to make me look bad in front of Halleigh
. It was possible that Mitch never had any intention of hurting Halleigh at all. Maybe all he wanted was to just strip Malek down to nothing by getting him for all of his money.
Mitch probably thought that Malek was sitting on major dough, but the reality was, he was dead broke. Malek's stupidity and naiveté had gotten him swindled and left his pockets on
E
. He was back where he had begunâat the bottomâbut the only difference was, he didn't have Jamaica Joe to lean on. Now his right hand was an ex-junkie, a far cry from the powerful reach of Joe.
E
. He was back where he had begunâat the bottomâbut the only difference was, he didn't have Jamaica Joe to lean on. Now his right hand was an ex-junkie, a far cry from the powerful reach of Joe.
Malek was grateful for Scratch rolling with him. Besides, he couldn't be choosy. Not a lot of people would rock with him right now, so he had to be grateful for Scratch's loyalty. He didn't know why Scratch was so loyal to Halleigh, but he appreciated it and began to respect Scratch and Halleigh's friendship.
Malek looked over at Scratch, who now appeared to have a worried look in his eyes. Malek could sense his pain.
Scratch looked up when he felt Malek looking at him. “This some bullshit, youngblood. We gotta get Li'l Rina back. This shit ain't fo' her, man. It ain't for her. She don't deserve any mess like this. The game done gone stone crazy. All you young ones don't know a thing about it. Women and children used to be off limits. Now you dummies are snatching 'em off the street as if they are the ones responsible for the chaos.” Scratch shook his head and ran his fingers through his matted 'fro. He then sat back and began to think of all the avenues of getting money. “This robbing banks shit ain't gon' cut it. We need to hit hustlers. That way, we don't have to worry about no police heat. If we hit a nigga in the game, what he gon' do? Run to the police screaming that someone ran in his spot and stole his drug money?”
There was a brief silence as Scratch looked to Malek for a response. The look on Malek's face let Scratch know he was making sense. “Exactly, youngblood,” Scratch replied to Malek's non-verbal response.
“That's what I've been on, but it's only one person I'm trying to see right now and that's Mitch.” Malek slowly nodded his head up and down, agreeing with his own statement.
“What about that Fredro fella you was talking about earlier ?” Scratch asked. “We go against Mitch, we might as well sign our own death certificates, because them Italians don't play.”
“Dominican,” Malek corrected.
“Italian, Dominican, Swiss and cheddar . . . whateverâyou know what I'm saying, youngblood. We mess with Mitch's money, we gonna catch heat. Now, don't get me wrong. Scratch ain't no punk. I don't mind any heat it may bring. I'm willing to go all out, but you got to know what you are jumping into before you even take that first leap.”
Malek was desperate, and although he knew Scratch had a point, he didn't see any other options. “Fuck it! Like I said before, if Fredro got a problem, then he can get it too,” Malek said, putting all the pieces in place as if he were playing chess.
“We gonna rob that boy and pay him with his own paper, huh?” Scratch repeated more to himself than to Malek. He began to chuckle and nodded his head. “I'm in! We have to move fast though, ya dig?” Scratch sat up, leaned in over the table, and began to put together a plan as the seconds ticked by. “Yeah, yeah! We can hit Mitch's spots and give him his own money before word get back to him that his trap spots have been hit. We can get Li'l Rina back that way.”
Malek didn't think the idea was the smartest way to go about things, but with only a day left to get the money, it seemed like the only option. “Mitch isn't dumb,” Malek said, trying to look at the plan from every angle. “He probably changed up the whole operation since I left. I know he doesn't keep the money in the same spot that we used to. We have no way of finding out the main spot where the dough is. That shit isn't as easy as it seems, old man, and if I know anything about Mitch, it's that he ain't a stupid nigga.”
“Well, in my world, nothing is a secret. In the smack-user circle, everybody knows something. Maybe we need to ask around and see what we can come up with. It might not seem like it, but users have their own little community, ya dig?” Scratch stood up. “Take Scratch to his old stomping ground and let's see what we can come up with.”
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