Between Friends (4 page)

Read Between Friends Online

Authors: D. L. Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #General, #African American Police, #Urban Life, #Thrillers, #African American

BOOK: Between Friends
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“I'm okay, Mama. Look, I'm not gonna stay long. I just wanted to stop by and grab something to eat. I'll make sure I call you tomorrow, okay?”
I bent down and kissed my mom's cheek. I loved my mother more than anything, but I didn't want to get sucked in and emotional. I couldn't afford to. Don't get me wrong. I loved what I did, but the price I had to pay at times made me wonder if it was all worth it.
I stood up and started across the tiny room toward the door when my mother's voice stopped me. “Trip, I know you're busy with your job. But your daddy's dead and buried now.”
I stopped without turning around. “Yes, Mama, I know.”
“It's time to let it go. Stop all this back and forth.”
“I love you Mama, I'll call you to in the morning.”
I didn't respond to that, I just kept moving. Once in the kitchen, I sat down at the tiny table in front of the plate my sister had fixed for me: fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, and corn bread. I assumed all leftovers from the dinner they'd had earlier.
“Thanks, Trin,” I managed between bites.
She placed a glass of sweet tea in front of me before she sat down across from my chair. I looked up into her eyes and knew she was full of questions—and I wasn't in the mood to answer any of them.
“I can't believe you're actually here. Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming in?”
“Well, loan me twenty dollars so I can prove it and I barely had time to pack. I hope the shit I through in my suitcase matches.”
She laughed. “Whatever, big shot. You need to lend me some money. You the one who got the big promotion.”
I looked up from my green beans. “You need a little something?”
She shook her head. “I'm good. I got the new check card for Mama's prescriptions and stuff.”
Six years ago when I left for the DEA I started having money direct deposited every two weeks from my check into an account to cover my mother's expenses. I knew that her SSI and Medicare weren't nearly enough. When my ex-girl, Camille, and I split she started acting a little crazy and I had to change a lot of shit around.
I nodded. “Good.”
“Camille still acting up?”
“Nah, she settled down, once I threatened to arrest her ass.”
She laughed. “Was you really gon' arrest her?”
I glanced up at her like she was crazy. “Hell yeah! She keyed my damn car.”
“That's not nice, Trip.”
I smiled. “I wasn't gon' lock that chick up, calm down.”
“Good.”
She got quiet. Too quiet.
I took a bite of my corn bread. Without looking up I asked, “What do you want, Trinity?”
“A'ight look, don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're here, but how long are you gonna keep jumping back and forth across the state line, Trip?”
I took a drink of sweet tea. “I'm not.”
“Yes you are.”
“I'm not one of your social work cases, Trinity,” I said, dropping my fork to my plate. “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me. I live in New Orleans.”
Just then, my phone sang a jingle, cutting short what was destined to be an argument.
I checked the display and stood up. “I gotta go.”
I placed my plate in the sink, kissed her on the cheek, and headed toward the front door.
“Yeah”—she called to my back—“you always do.”
 
“The healthy man does not torture others. Generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers.”
 
—Carl Jung
 
 
The nighttime skyline came into view as his truck cut down I-85 and exited the interstate and blended into the crowded downtown city streets. The city was alive with nightlife. On the outside, it was the equivalent of a beautiful woman, drawing you in with mind-blowing views of the beautiful Centennial Olympic and Piedmont parks.
Just like two supple breasts, Turner Field and The Georgia Dome captured a man's eye and pulled him closer. But just like that baddest bitch in the club, Atlanta had its secrets. And if you were to dig deeper, you'd find them. This beautiful city is just as grimy as the next gold digging bitch trying to make a come up.
He'd made this run a hundred times if he'd done it once. He looked down at his dashboard. He had just got a text and needed to head to the other side of town so he needed to make this one quick.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and didn't like what he saw in his eyes. It was a look of a man who was slowly being backed into a corner.
He knew the look all to well, because he'd put the same look in the eyes of others men.
The screen in his dash began to glow along with the phone in it's holder in the armrest. He hit the button on his steering wheel.
“Yeah.”
A sensual voice, with a Spanish accent oozed from his speakers. “Hey
papì
, I thought you were coming to see me. I miss you.”
“I may not make it tonight.”
“But—” she started.
“Listen here, don't start that shit. I got business to take care of, I'll get at you when I can.”
He heard a soft sigh come from her end of the phone. “Okay. Are you gonna call me later?”
“If I can.”
He pulled up to his destination as he continued to listen to her attitude pour through his speakers. He ran his hand across the top of his head a couple times, tried to give her a second to get her shit right.
She didn't.
“Look, I ain't got time for this, I'm gone.”
With a tap of the screen he disconnected the call, grabbed his cell and hopped out the truck. She knew better than to call back and try to argue so he didn't give it a second thought.
In front of the dingy townhouse situated off Center Hill Avenue he spotted two tall skinny dudes standing out front. One looked like he was texting and the other was on his phone. They both straightened up and gave him their full attention when they saw him approaching the steps.
The dark-skinned one spoke first, “Hey man, what's up?”
The other one nodded absent-mindedly like he wasn't sure what to say.
He nodded toward the house. “Twist in there?”
They both nodded.
He brushed past them and jogged up the steps and entered without knocking. The smell in the small house was enough to make him want to hurry up and get this over with. It smelled like someone burnt something and tried to cover it up with some nasty smelling air freshener that made it even worse.
He made his way to the back where he found Twist and one of his boys playing Xbox. Twist jumped up, surprised, when he saw him.
“Yo, I ain't hear you come in, what's up?”
“Maybe if you grow the fuck up and stop playing video games you'd be more aware of what's goin' on around you,” he said, snatching the game plugs out of the television. “Go get my shit.”
Twist made his way in the other room and the dude Twist was playing the game with got up and stood behind him, blocking the doorway. He figured that was supposed to be a sign of intimidation but he took it as disrespect.
Without hesitating, he turned around and punched him in his throat causing him to double over. While he was bent over trying to catch his breath he hit him twice in his jaw.
“Yo! Is you crazy? Fuck away from me,” he growled, as dude scrambled into a nearby chair.
“Hey! Chill out Linc man,
damn!
” Twist said, coming back in the room with a briefcase.
“Man shut up, that my shit?” he demanded, turning his attention to him.
Twist flipped through the contents of a briefcase, which was now open on a table in front of him. His ashy hands were trembling; he could barely count the crisp new bills inside.
“One fifty large,” he finally said.
“That's it?” Linc said. “Come on now. That figure you talkin' is gon' make some people unhappy, 'cause it just pissed me off.”
“I—I can probably have the rest by next week,” he stuttered. His eyes nervously glanced over at his boy, who was still trying to get himself together.
“Come on, man. You know how this works. Supply and demand,” Linc said. “I supplied, and now I'm demandin' my damn money.”
Linc paced the floor, while Twist stood fidgeting, not sure what was about to happen. The tension in the room made him feel somewhat godlike, and he got a high from it, which he loved.
The first time he'd shook down a dealer, over two years ago during a bust, it gave him a buzz—a feeling that not even the purest cocaine could replicate. When he realized just how stupid these dealers really were, that only fueled his appetite and from that point it was on and poppin'.
“The streets are cold. Everyone is underground.”
Linc pulled his gun out of his waistband and tapped it on the edge of the table. “Well, get a shovel and start digging. You know I don't operate like this.”
Twist nodded in agreement. “I know. I know. I just gotta make a couple calls, that's all. Just gimme some time.”
“How much time?” Linc frowned at him. He really wanted to lay Twist's skinny ass out, but he needed him. Twist was good for running little bullshit errands, which Linc either didn't like doing or just couldn't do. And he was good for keeping him up on what was going on in other areas too. This fool had an ear and a hand in a little bit of everything.
Twist continued, “I don't know ... a couple weeks. Right now, he's the only connect I know of that got pockets that deep.”
Linc took a deep breath and processed his options. Things had been running pretty smooth up to this point, and he needed shit back the way it was quick. He walked over to the table and pulled a stack of money out of the case and then slid the case back in Twist's direction.
“Do it and you better not be fuckin' with me.”
Twist nodded. “I can still deliver the rest of the merchandise to your boy from the jail tomorrow night.”
“He's expectin' you over off Moreland with them cell phones.”
Twist nervously shook his head. “I got'chu. I got'chu. I'll be there.”
“You better be. Don't make me have my boys run up in here and bust you, Twist. You know I will.”
For a split second, a very quick second, he actually felt bad for Twist. He knew he was just a low-life dealer trying to eat but the way he'd been fucking up lately was unacceptable. Linc had been rolling him for almost two years now and he'd been the most respectful and loyal out of all the dealers he'd fucked with. But right now he was fucking with his money and that was something Linc didn't take lightly. A few dealers had already been laid down because of that shit. Linc was careful that it wasn't by his hand or even by the hand next to his; but dudes knew his reach was far and wide and no one ever knew when he'd reach out and touch them.
“I know, I know. Just gimme some time to handle this other thing,” Twist said.
The sound of Linc's gun being cocked echoed through the room, causing everyone to stop in their tracks. Linc pointed the gun at Twist's boy squeezing the trigger and putting a bullet into the wall next to his head.
He holstered his gun.
He pulled his phone off his hip and headed out the door.
“Make this right, homie, or next time I won't miss.”
He was out the door before the piss made its way down Twist's leg and hit the floor.
Chapter Four
Idalis
I agreed to meet India at Applebee's before heading in to the club. I figured hanging out with her would chill me out and get me ready for the club tonight. She reached over and swiped a wing from my plate; I took a sip of her sweet tea.
“Are you going to be able to make the dress fitting next week?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but I ain't happy about it.”
“Don't start, India. Dionne ain't complaining about her dress.”
“That's because her dress doesn't make her look fat like mine does.”
I rolled my eyes. “And your dress doesn't make you look fat either, shut up.”
“I'm serious. Dionne looks like a damn model in hers. I think you did it on purpose.”
“Give it up, India. You're wearing the dress.”
Her cell rang, causing mine to chime right in. She gave me a frown, because she knew who it was.
Linc's name flashed across the screen on my phone, validating her dirty look.
When I came home last night after meeting Trip and picking up Cameron from my mom's, Lincoln wasn't home. And by the time he came in, I was already asleep.
I answered, “Hey, you.”
“Hey, girl, where you at?”
“Applebee's, with India.”
“You was sleep when I got home last night,” he said.
“I know. You should've woke me up.”
He let out a low laugh. “It was late. At some point we gon' have to meet in the middle.”
“Yeah, we are,” I agreed. “I miss you.”
Our hit-or-miss routine had been going on for weeks now. If it wasn't for his dirty clothes and toothbrush, half the time I wouldn't know he lived there.
He kept talking. “You going by the club tonight?”
“Yea, I'm leaving here in a few.”
“A'ight. I'll stop by there later.”
“Okay, I'll see you later then.”
I hung up and put my phone on the table. India was still into her conversation with whoever the flavor of the week was for her. I could tell from the giggles and the low tone of her voice that she was making plans, the kind of plans that I wished I had for tonight.
I waved down our waitress and ordered a piece of carrot cake and a cup of coffee. Hell, if I wasn't getting any, I might as well be fat.
India hung up. “Whoa, what are you doing?”
“I need something sweet.”
“A'ight. You're gonna be the one looking fat in her dress if you keep it up.”
“Whatever.”
She shoved a few fries into her mouth. “Guess that was him?”
“Yes, it was.”
She chuckled and drank her tea. “Y'all are funny.”
“I am glad my relationship is amusing you.”
“It's not,” she said, taking another wing from my plate. “It's actually pretty sad.”
“What do you mean by that?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Look at the way you let him control you. And don't even get me started on Trip, and I barely see you anymore—unless I look in the mirror.”
I laughed at that last part. But I couldn't argue with her. “Just drop it, India. Who were you on the phone with?”
“Derek.”
“I thought you were done with him.”
“I was, but he has a hurricane tongue, and that's hard to let go.”
I couldn't help but giggle. “You're a tramp.”
“Don't try to change the subject. Why haven't you talked to Trip yet?”
I smiled. “Who said I haven't?”
She leaned back, surprised. “Ooh, girl! You holding out! When? What did he say?”
“We bumped into each other at the gym and went to Waffle House after. That's all. But I have to admit, it felt good to be around him again.”
She took a drink of her tea. “I bet it did. Growing up, you two were joined at the hip.”
It wasn't until Linc showed up during our sophomore year in college and enrolled at Morehouse that things started to change between Trip and I.
Linc grew up off Bankhead, a few neighborhoods over from us, and fought his way up from the streets by way of the football field at Douglass High.
His speed and strong throwing arm earned him a full-ride scholarship to the University of Georgia, but when he found out he wasn't going to be starting he wasn't happy. So he whined and complained his way out of a scholarship into a bunch of student loan debt just to start on a mediocre football squad at Morehouse.
Little did I know that from that point on things would never be the same or that the hatred between Trip and Linc would quickly turned into more than just a rival between alma maters.
“He seems happy, though, and he looks good.”
“I don't think Trip could look bad if he tried.”
I laughed. “True. I didn't realize how much I missed him until I saw him.”
“You think he misses it here?”
I shook my head. “No. He seems like he's content with where he is.”
“Did you ask him?”
“Ask him what? If he wanted to move back?”
She scooped up a piece of my carrot cake. “Yeah.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because that's what you want. And the way he left was kind of messed up.”
I shoved a forkful of cake into my mouth. “No, it's not. And you need to mind your business.”
She gave me a look that let me know she didn't believe me. And I gave her a look that let her know I didn't care what she thought.
Her expression changed from playful to serious. “You know if—”
I cut her off. “I know, Twin, I know.”
I drank some of my water and wiped my mouth. India started shredding her napkin and tossing it onto the table, a sign that something was on her mind.
Now it was my turn to grill her.
“What's up with you? Why are you making a mess?”
She leaned back in the booth. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What's up?”
Her chest rose and fell with a huge sigh. “Well, you know I'm supposed to graduate in the fall.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was thinking about—”
I cut her off. “I swear, India, if you mention another degree, I'm gonna fight you.”
She balled up what was left of the napkin and threw it at me.
“No!
Damn
. Shut up and let me finish,” she fussed. “There's a company that I've been talking to, and they might be interested in me.”
“That's good!”
I jumped up, ran around the table, and climbed into the booth next to her. I hugged her, but she didn't seem as excited as I was.
I stopped my solo celebration and looked at her. “What? What's the problem?”
“The company is out in San Francisco.”
I slid to the edge of the booth like she was contagious. “That
better
be the new nickname for downtown Atlanta.”
She just sat there with this stupid look on her face, shaking her head.
“Oh
hell
no!” I got up and moved back to my side of the table and starting digging around in my purse.
“Where are you going?”
I pulled a twenty out of my purse and tossed it on the table. “I'm going to 404.”
She looked up at me, almost pleading. “Come on, Idalis. Don't be like that.”
“Love you. Bye, India. Text me when you get to my house and before you put Cameron to bed.”
“Twin!” she called to me.
“I gotta go. I'll be home as soon as I get off.”
I made my way toward the club without even turning on the radio. I let the window down a little and inhaled the fresh air. Again I found myself trying to clear my head.
California.
California?
I couldn't believe that heifer was really trying to move 3,000 miles away. That was the last thing I wanted to hear.
Tension rode my back as I clutched my phone, scrolling through the contacts until I found the number I was looking for. The jury in my mind deliberated for a few moments before coming back with a verdict.
I hit send.

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