Criminal Minded (17 page)

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Authors: Tracy Brown

BOOK: Criminal Minded
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As soon as I hung up the phone with Lucky, that bastard Donovan was banging on my door. I got out of bed and wrapped the red silk kimono Lucky had given me for my birthday around me. I grabbed my gun from my nightstand drawer, and held it by my side, just in case he got crazy. I would not hesitate to shoot his crazy ass. I strolled through the living room, opened the door, and saw Donovan standing there, looking furious. He didn’t wait to be invited in.
“I saw you with Zion, Olivia.” Donovan brushed past me and walked into the apartment.
“It’s over, Donovan.”
He turned and faced me. He stood dumbfounded for a minute. “What did you say?”
“I said it’s over, Donovan. Enough is enough! You’re jealous all the time, following me—”
“Because you’re so fuckin’ sneaky! I have to worry about who you’re with and what you’re doing because you’re in a different nigga’s face all the time.”
“Admit it, Donovan. It’s not every nigga that you’re worried about. It’s Zion. If you saw me with him, why didn’t you confront me then? You hate it when you see me talking to him, but you never complain until we’re alone. You don’t like him being on the set all the time, but you never tell him that. Why are you scared of Zion?”
Before I could blink, he had me pinned to the wall with his hands around my throat. “You fuckin’ bitch! You talk so much shit! Do I look like I’m scared of anybody?”
The look in his eyes was bone chilling. He was crazy and deranged and I could see it so clearly as I gasped for air. I raised the gun, attempting to point it at Donovan’s head, still gasping for oxygen. He caught sight of the gun just as I raised it and he snapped. Donovan let go of my neck and punched me dead in the face. The blow knocked me off my feet and sent my gun skidding across my hardwood floors. Now, I’m a tough bitch. But that nigga hit me like I was a grown man. I was dazed for a minute. As I scrambled and crawled, trying to grab the gun before he did, Donovan grabbed me by my hair and yanked me to my feet, pulling me toward him. He wrapped his big hands around my throat once more.
“You wanna shoot me, Olivia? Huh? You fuckin’ bitch!” I heard my phone ringing and wondered if it was my brother. I wished at that moment that I would have listened to Lucky when she told me not to let Donovan in. He looked at the phone as it stopped ringing.
“Who was that calling you at this time of night? Huh?”
I wondered how he expected me to answer him when his hands were squeezing my throat. He let me go and I gasped, trying to breathe only to have him smack me so hard that I went flying backward. I knocked over a lamp as I fell into the end table and I held my face where it stung from the blow.
“Why you playing with me, Olivia? Why you want me to sweat you all the time? Why I gotta cater to you? Huh?”
I sat silent, realizing that there was nothing I could say to this muthafucka that would make him feel better. He charged at me again, and I defended myself. I picked up the lamp I had knocked over and threw it right at his head. He ducked and it missed him and he ran toward me. I scrambled to my feet and ran away from him, trying to get to the gun. But he caught up to me and grabbed me by my robe.
“You think you’re tough, right, Olivia?”
“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” I yelled.
“I’m crazy, huh?” He punched me in my face like I was a man. I fell back and hit my head on the hardwood floors. For a second I saw
stars. But Donovan wasn’t done with me. He straddled me, slapping me in the face with his heavy hands. He pulled me to my feet by my hair and his face was so close to mine that I could smell his breath.
“You wanna leave me, Olivia? Is that what you wanna do? Huh? ANSWER ME!”
I heard pounding on my apartment door and thanked God for the interruption. Donovan glanced at the door and then back at me. “Who is that?”
“I won’t know unless I answer it.” I knew my lip was busted because it felt funny as I spoke. I touched my mouth and saw blood on my hands.
“Go answer it, then!” Donovan shoved me in the direction of the door, and I stumbled and fell. While I was spread out across the floor, Donovan walked over and picked up my gun. Before I could get back on my feet, I heard keys jingling and the door being unlocked. Lamin opened it and saw me sprawled across the floor, struggling to get to my feet. I had never been happier to see him in my life. I was so thankful that I had given him a spare key to my place. My brother had steam coming out of his ears.
“Olivia, what the fuck is going on in here?” Lamin touched my bruised and bloody face and then gently moved me aside as he stormed toward Donovan. My brother’s walk was determined. He took three steps and was face-to-face with Donovan. Donovan stood his ground, aiming my gun as Lamin charged at him.
“You hit my sister, you son of a bitch?” I had never seen Lamin so angry.
I was afraid that Donovan would shoot at any moment. But Lamin must have sensed that Donovan was too pussy to pull the trigger and Lamin kept charging at him.
I screamed, “Lamin! Don’t …” Before I could finish my sentence, Lamin knocked Donovan against the wall. They tussled for a minute or two, and all the while, I was yelling, scared that the gun would go off and my brother would be shot. But it wasn’t long before Lamin
got the best of Donovan and caused him to drop the gun. Donovan was getting fucked up, and Lamin wasn’t stopping. I ran and grabbed my gun off the floor and waited for Lamin to let Donovan go.
I heard another knock at my door and I was relieved to see Zion standing there when I opened it. He took one look at my face and hugged me close to him. “Who did this to you, Olivia?”
I didn’t have to answer him because he could see the commotion behind me as Lamin continued to pummel Donovan. Zion rushed past me and pulled out his own gun. My brother stood up and towered over that sorry bastard Donovan. Lamin was out of breath and infuriated while Donovan sat in a bloody heap on the floor with his back against the wall.
Zion cocked his gun and aimed it at Donovan’s temple. “La, you wanna mirk this nigga?”
“NO!” I yelled. “Don’t do that. Please, Zion, don’t do that shit!”
Zion looked confused. “You gonna defend this muthafucka after he beat you like this?”
I shook my head. “No. But I don’t want you and Lamin to get in trouble for cleaning up my mess, Zion. Somebody’s gonna go to jail, and it ain’t worth it over this nigga.”
Lamin was still fuming, glaring at Donovan. “You punk muthafucka!” Lamin was livid as he snarled at Donovan and backhanded him across the face. Every time Lamin looked at my bloody, swollen face he seemed to become even more enraged. “I should let Olivia shoot you herself!”
To everyone’s surprise, Donovan sat against the wall laughing in a low, sinister tone. “Do it,” he said, staring at me with a crazy smirk on his face. “Fuckin’ high-priced ho.” He laughed that cryptic laugh, and I felt my trigger finger twitch. He kept laughing. “Go ahead and shoot me, you stupid bitch. Go ahead. Then you can suck Zion’s dick as much as you want to.”
As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, Zion blasted that nigga in the head. After the fatal shot, Donovan’s body slumped over;
the room fell eerily silent, and I trembled in shock. Lamin calmly walked to the kitchen, grabbed a dish towel, and used it to take the gun from Zion as I stood staring at Donovan’s dead body.
“Get her outta here, Lamin,” Zion said. “I’ll get rid of everything. Just take Olivia and get outta here.”
“What are you gonna do, Zion?” I was crying hysterically, thinking about one of us—or all of us—going to jail for murder. “Now what are you gonna do?” I wondered if the neighbors had heard the shot or if they would call the cops.
Lamin went into the bathroom with the gun and I stood frozen with trembling hands. Zion walked toward me slowly and hugged me close to him. “Don’t cry, Olivia. I’m gonna handle this, okay? Just go with Lamin and let me do what I gotta do.” Zion wiped my tears. Then he kissed me softly. “Don’t cry no more.” He looked at me with my swollen eyes and bloody lips and kissed me again. “You’re too pretty to cry.”
Lamin came out of the bathroom, and Zion and I put some distance between us. I looked at my brother—my hero—and I was so sorry that I had put us all in the position we were suddenly in. Lamin hugged me close to him and told me it would be alright. But somehow, that was hard to believe with a dead body in the room, laying just feet from where I stood. I choked back sobs and Lamin held me closer.
“Go get dressed, Olivia,” he said. “Go put some clothes on so I can take you to my house.”
Obediently, I went into my bedroom and frantically tossed as much as I could into my suitcases. I knew that I would never want to set foot in that apartment again after that night. I heard Zion using my phone to call his goons. He didn’t give them any specifics over the phone, but I heard him instructing them to get there as soon as possible and to park by the building’s back entrance. In the midst of all the drama unfolding in my home, I couldn’t help but notice that neither Zion or Lamin seemed as if this was the first time a trigger had been pulled in their presence. I had always known that the two of them were no angels. Yet it surprised me to know that they were no strangers to murder.
Lamin and Zion went about their business quietly, while I continued packing my shit as fast as I could. For once, I wished I didn’t have so many clothes. But I sure wasn’t leaving my good shit at the crime scene. I threw my Gucci snakeskin bag and shoes into my bag, grabbed my Dolce and Gabbana pantsuit, my Dior sling backs, and threw my Valentino dress into the garment bag. After about twenty minutes, I came out of my bedroom, anxious to get out of there as quickly as possible. Zion had wrapped Donovan’s body in a blanket, and Lamin was helping him roll it up inside of my Persian rug. I saw blood splattered on the wall where Donovan’s head had leaned when he was shot. I felt nauseous. Sensing that, Lamin rose, grabbed my hand, and led me to the door. I turned back as we left, and my eyes locked with Zion’s. He was very calm and so in control. My pulse quickened as he stared at me and I wanted so badly to tell him that I loved him. But instead I walked away holding my brother’s hand like the scared little girl that I was.
While I was in the bathroom unloading and preparing to dispose of the gun, I noticed a lengthy silence, and I peeked my head outside the door. I saw Zion hug my sister. At first, I thought it was nice of him to comfort her when she was obviously upset. But then I saw him whisper to her softly. I wondered what he said, and I was just about to walk back in. Then he kissed her. He kissed my sister, and I wondered what the fuck was on his mind! I waited for Olivia’s reaction. But she didn’t seem surprised. And then he kissed her again. I had enough at that point.
I tucked the gun away and walked out of the bathroom. When I stepped back into the room, they both slid so far away from each other that I almost wanted to laugh. But I was furious. I felt deceived. Still, I knew that my sister was in shock. She looked like she was ready for a rubber room and a tight jacket. I hugged her, told her it would be alright. For the entire time that I held my sister, my eyes stared directly
into Zion’s. I was silently telling him that I knew what the fuck was goin’ on. Zion held my gaze as if he didn’t care anymore if I knew or not. I quickly sent Olivia to get her stuff.
The silence that followed was one that spoke volumes. Zion and I stood our ground, stared each other down. “You fuckin’ with my sister, Zion?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“I wouldn’t call it that, Lamin. I care for your sister.”
The silence returned. Zion picked up the telephone and called his boys. He gave them the address, speaking carefully and telling them to hurry up. The longer he spoke on the phone, the more infuriated I became. He hung up after what seemed like eternity.
“You sneaky muthafucka!” I said through clenched teeth. “How long you been fuckin’ my little sister, Zion?” I had to fight to keep my voice down. I didn’t want to upset Olivia any more than she already was.
Zion took two steps toward me. Now we stood only inches apart and I was anxious to hit him. I thought he was my friend.
“Lamin, I never planned to get involved with your sister. But I did. I apologize for lyin’ about it. But your sister is grown, La. She does what she wants to do.”
“Don’t stand there and act like you ain’t plan this shit! You probably took advantage of her the whole time she was travelin’ witchu. Stayin’ out of town for almost a week at a time! You think I ain’t wonder …” We were whispering, but our language was heated.
“It’s none of your business, Lamin!” Zion frowned. “She’s
grown
up
now!”
“She’s still my sister, Zion! And I
told
you not to fuck with her.”
“I couldn’t help it!”
Zion almost got cracked in the mouth for that one. I stepped closer to him.
“Lamin, listen. I am not tryin’ to hurt your sister. I really care about Olivia.” He hesitated. “The only reason I never told her how much is because of you. I would have been with her a long time ago, but I
knew
you would act like this.”
This was some bullshit. It seemed like Zion might really like Olivia. I knew she liked him even more, and I didn’t like it one bit. I wanted more for Olivia than a guy like Zion. I didn’t want her with a street clown. I wanted stability for Olivia. Picket fences and carpools. I wanted her to be the opposite of my mother. Zion was not part of my plan. But now, he had killed a man for her. I saw just how serious this was. Zion didn’t give me time to think for long.
“Lamin, we gotta clean this shit up. Help me roll this muthafuckin’ body up so when these niggas get here we can move it.” Zion rummaged through Olivia’s linen closet and pulled out a blanket. I helped him wrap the body in it and then I stood to look for something bigger to roll the corpse up in. I spotted Olivia’s large rug and I got ready to go and get it. But Zion reached over and stopped me, grabbing my arm as I prepared to walk away. “La, I never meant no disrespect. And I would never hurt your sister. Don’t blow this shit out of proportion.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I set about helping him clean up his mess. When Olivia came out of her room, she looked like she wanted to throw up. I didn’t want Zion to have to clean that up, too, so I grabbed her and got her out of there as fast as I could.
But I couldn’t help wondering if I was more anxious to rescue her from the bloody murder scene, or from Zion.

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