Sister's Revenge: Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin) (10 page)

She calmly stared him right in the eye and eased the barrel up his stomach and across his chest to his left side a little below his armpit. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled the gun back about a foot. His breath released and his eyes flicked down to the gun. Up so close, she didn’t need to aim or even look; peripheral vision was good enough.

She fired once—
Puhffiitt!—
and the slug creased his side; more frightening than dangerous.

Jerome screamed, eyes flying open, he flinched back, pushing against the table. He started to get up, but Michelle jerked the gun up to meet him, the end of the barrel stopping a few inches from his face.

“Sit down.”

Jerome sat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw a kid coming on a bike. She crossed her legs like a man, with her ankle on her knee and hid the .380, still pointing it at Jerome, from under her calf. “Say anything, look at anything, make any kind of a move, I’ll empty the clip in you.”

Michelle held Jerome’s gaze while the kid coasted on his bike up to the front door, hopped off, and leaned the bike against the wall. Jerome froze, sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. He held the wound with his right hand, and his eyes, now bloodshot, watered.

For the few seconds it took the kid to park his bike and disappear through the front door, time stood still. Michelle’s stare never wavered. After the door closed completely, she put her foot down.

“Because of what’s happened here, you might think I’m cold-blooded. I’m not. I’m practiced, patient, and professional. Touch a single fucking hair on Deja ever again and I’ll take you apart piece by piece. God’s truth, asshole. I’d enjoy that.”

Jerome nodded.

“Sit still.”

Jerome nodded again.

Michelle scooted back, stood, hid the .380 under her crossed arms and back-stepped to end of her car. She lifted her arm slightly to show Jerome her gun. “Don’t forget: not a hair.”

A moment later, she backed out of Henry’s parking lot in search of takeout for lunch.

M
ICHELLE FOLLOWED NIKKY’S
gaze checking out the rock climbing gym. Seeing it fresh through Nikky’s eyes, she had to admit it looked pretty bizarre—the inside walls of the large industrial building had been covered from the floor to the ceiling with a smooth, artificial rock dotted with brightly colored bumps, knobs, and holds. Though most of the surfaces were vertical, a few were fashioned like cliffsides so the climber would end up hanging from the holds.

Numerous people mimicked flies climbing the walls. A few wore harnesses attached to safety ropes, while others seemed to be attached to the wall itself with no visible safety equipment and even less apparent good sense.

“No way. No fucking way,” Nikky said. “I’ll never do some stupid shit like that. Girl, you’ve gone and lost your goddamned mind. Just to start, look at these.” She held up her beautiful long nails on both hands. “Ten good reasons why you won’t see me climb no stupid wall. I’ve got a hundred more reasons that are even better if you want to hear them.”

With her updo curls, tight miniskirt, and strap-up heels, Nikky was as out of place in the gym as a business suit in a rock concert. Didn’t stop the guys from admiring her butt, though.

“Of course I don’t expect you to do this,” Michelle said. “I just wanted you to see some of the things I do. I told you some pretty wild stuff, and what you see here is part of it. Not the real deal, because I can’t just climb up the side of some building in broad daylight.”

“I think this is real enough.” Nikky said.

“Hey, look,” she added, “you got here early and I still have one more climb before I finish. You can hang here and watch, or go over to the juice bar. Just keep an eye out for Deja. With her face still jacked, she probably won’t feel very comfortable being here. All these White boys checking you two out like a couple of brown sugar lollipops will make her self-conscious. You know how she enjoys being fine for the men.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll stay out here and watch you bust your butt. Man, that is crazy. You’re seriously going to climb that?”

“You bet your ass I am. See that?” Michelle pointed to an overhead arch only the most skilled would attempt. “I’ll start on that wall, then climb over—well, actually, under it—and down the other side. Takes me about twenty, thirty minutes.”

Nikky shook her head. “I’ve gotta see it to believe it, because nobody can climb that. You’ll be hanging upside down!”

“It’s as tough as it looks and damned near impossible if you don’t know what you’re doing. Trust me, the real world’s a lot tougher.”

“If you say so. I don’t ever want to find out.”

While Nikky settled in to watch, Michelle went off to chat with a member of the gym staff to set up her climb.

After about fifteen minutes of climbing, Michelle, out of the corner of her eye, saw Deja approaching.

“Yo, Nikky,” Deja called out. “What is this place?”

“Another world,” Nikky replied, “and these people are batshit crazy. Including our girl.” She pointed up.

“Holy shit!” Deja’s hands flew up to her mouth. “Is that Michelle hanging up there on the ceiling? She’ll be killed!”

“I know, huh? It scared the shit outta me, too, but she said she’d be fine. I watched her start climbing over there and keep going until she was upside down.”

“I can’t believe it. What’s she doing up there?”

“She said it had to do with all the ninja stuff she told us about. I think she wanted us to see her in action. But honestly, it’s kinda freaking me out.”

“I’m with you on that.” Deja stared at Michelle. “My heart’s beating like crazy, just watching her.”

Smirking at their conversation, Michelle did her fly imitation, turning around as she crossed the apex of the arch. Soon, she reached the changeover point where she was more vertical than horizontal.

They’re both here. Let’s cut this short.

Michelle chose the path leading around the side of the arch’s leg, putting herself on a regular vertical wall where she could scale down quickly. A few minutes later, she joined her friends.

“Girl, you’ve gone completely batshit crazy,” Deja said. “I can’t believe it. I damn near peed myself when I saw you hanging upside down.”

“I don’t know about going crazy, but you two are causing some real excitement around here,” Michelle said. “Look at y’all’s fine selves, wearing that miniskirt and those tight jeans, showing your stuff, all proud-like. I’m the only sister who ever comes around here, and they’re used to me. Plus, I don’t have it going on up top, like either of you. The boys almost fell off the wall breaking their necks trying to check you two out.”

“Well, hell yes, they should check us out. We’re looking fine today.” Nikky swung her hips in a check-me-out diva circle.

“Hey,” Michelle said, motioning them with her. “Let me take you to the juice bar where you’ll be more comfortable while I go shower off some of this funk.”

“Oooh,” Deja said as they entered the juice bar, “what’s that smell?”

“Lemongrass. Amber always keeps it smelling like that in here as a change from the gym smell outside.”

“Hello, ladies.” A chipper brunette waitress gave them a big smile in greeting, seeming genuinely glad they were in her shop. “How may I help you?”

“Hi, Amber,” Michelle said. “I’ll have a mango smoothie.”

“I’d like a Pepsi,” Nikky said. “I mean, a real Pepsi, none of that diet crap, but a real Pepsi.”

“You bet. Fountain or can?”

“Cans.” She pointed to herself and Deja. “Bring us two cans of Pepsi.”

“Sure thing. Would you like ice in your glass or separate?”

“What do you mean by separate?”

“Some people prefer to have their ice in a separate bowl with tongs. That way they can add more as they like.”

“Um, yeah, in the glass. Thanks.”

When Amber was out of earshot, Deja mimicked Valley-speak. “Oh my gawd, can you believe that?” Then, she fell back to her natural voice. “She’s so sweet, I bet she shits sugar cookies.”

“Yeah, she’s always that way with everyone,” Michelle said. “I think she really means it. Guess it takes all kinds. Sort of makes you want to be nice back.”

Nikky looked over at Deja, her gaze changing from curious about the waitress, to soft with concern for her friend. “Oh, girl, every time I look at your face, I want to jack that bastard, Jerome. He’s such a pig.”

“Um-huh. Did you know he got hisself shot?” Deja asked. “Nothing big. The bullet took some skin and nicked the side of a rib. He’s been whining like a little girl who got spanked by her momma.”

“Yeah, I heard something about him getting shot.”

Both women turned to Michelle. “Is that what you wanted to holla at us about?” Nikky asked.

Michelle paused to examine Deja’s face. Except for a little puffy area by her left eye, the swelling had gone down, and even though the bruise covered a big part of her cheek, it was mostly hidden by makeup. Michelle knew from experience bruises like that hurt like a bitch when touched. “You must have gone through some kind of hell getting your makeup on to come out to see me here,” she said. “Thanks for the effort.”

Next time I’ll hurt him bad enough to get his attention real good, because assholes like him never learn. Sure as shit there’ll be a next time.

“Ever since Michael got killed, I’ve been living a secret,” she added, “and it’s real hard to tell anybody anything. So, Deja, I have to ask you to forgive me for not telling you before . . .”

“I knew you were the one who shot Jerome. I’m just glad you didn’t kill his stupid ass,” Deja said.

“Oh, girl, I can’t tell you how much I wanted to cap his ass good for what he’d done to you. But you’re my row, and you still have feelings for that fool, so I couldn’t kill him. Besides, we have more important things to worry about. Still”—Michelle hung her head a little—“I just had to tell you it was me who did that to him.”

“And this?” Nikky motioned toward the gym where climbers strained and grunted their way up the sides of the artificial rock faces.

“It’s part of what I do. I wanted to show you some of these things to make it more real. Plus, it’s almost impossible to talk at the firing range.”

“Firing range?” Deja asked.

“That’s our next stop before lunch.”

“Are you going to want us to shoot?”

Michelle winked.

“Christ, Michelle. Next you’ll want us to start throwing knives and those ninja star things,” Deja said.

Michelle winked again.

W
E IN,
SAID the
short text from Nikky.

In responding, Michelle called her.

“Sup?”

“Hey, girlfriend, it’s me. What do you mean, we’re in? What are we in?”

“You remember Lewis? He’s in the Southside.”

“Yeah, I remember him. He’s a year or two older than Michael; big guy, mean, used to hang out with Baby-Sister. Uncle G’s been talking to her about him.”

“Well, he’s now deep in the mix and pretty much runs the drugs and muscle in the hood. His crew is throwing a big birthday party for him in a couple weeks. One of the girls at work got the hookup, and I’m invited. I can bring any other fine women who like to party with me. This is a real good place to see everyone all mixed up, and with so many shorties, we can blend in with the crowd.”

“That’s great, Nikky! This might be the real break we need to get everyone involved. From what Baby-Sister said, it looks like Lewis is the one who was in the house that day.”

“No shit! Why haven’t you taken him out? Do you need me to do something to set it up? What can we do?”

“Right now, we wait.”

“Okay, if you say so, but . . . why?”

“Believe me, I don’t want to wait; I don’t want to, in the worst way. But I promised myself I’d do this right and get every one of those bastards involved. Problem is, even if we are right and Lewis is the man, we don’t know who else was involved. Why did it happen? Did Lewis do it on his own? He wouldn’t have had the juice to make that decision if he was just starting to move up.”

“Do you think there was someone above him?”

“I don’t know, but I do know there was someone else in the car. I saw two people in it when it tore away from my house. I didn’t see them well enough to know who it was, but there were definitely two people in it.”

“So it was probably Lewis, and one other guy that we know of. Is that right?”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“There were at least two more; both of them are dead. And I have something else I should tell you and Deja about. I’ll tell you now. But don’t tell Deja who. Just say I need to tell her something.”

“Got it. No problem. Is it about the other two guys?”

“Yes. One was some guy I’d never seen before; he was in the room with Michael and Gabe Jr. They’d shot his ass, and he was dead by the time I got there. The other guy was Lil Rich. You remember him from school? A loser who started on drugs pretty heavy in our junior year?”

“Sure, I know who Lil Rich is. I see him on the street sometimes.”

“You won’t see him on the street anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“When, where? Or can’t you tell me?”

“A few days ago,” Michelle said. “In the alley, behind where he works.”

“Jeez.”

“At the very least, that leaves the driver. There had to be others, and if I move on Lewis now, the driver and anybody else might put Lil Rich’s and Lewis’s deaths together. That would be bad for several reasons.”

“What reasons?” Nikky asked.

“They’d be ready for us, making them harder to get to. Worse, they could be more dangerous, and safety could become a problem for you and Deja.”

“Probably not any worse than what’s already going on.”

“Why?” Michelle asked. “What’s already going on?”

“Nothing. You know, just life in the hood, shit like that. Nothing that won’t be fixed by the time the party happens.”

“Okay . . . two questions. First, when’s the party?”

“Saturday, three weeks from now.”

“That’ll work fine. I have a job coming up. I’ll have to leave in a couple days, and I’ll be gone for at least a week, or more likely, two weeks.”

“What kind of a job?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work; you can’t change the subject by asking me about that. I still have a second question. What’s already going on that has you in danger?”

“Michelle, you already have a lot to worry about. You don’t need any more junk right now.”

“Something’s already happened. I can hear it in your voice. Give.”

“Just a little run-in with Jerome, but it was nothing.”

“Nothing? What’s nothing? Stop trying to bullshit me; I know you too well for that. What did that prick do?”

“Like you said, I gave him his space, and I left the bastard alone.”

“Yeah, what happened?”

“I was in the 7-Eleven,” Nikky said, “and he came up on me, started talking smack about what he was gonna do to you to get even. I told him to go fuck himself, that he wasn’t gonna do anything to anybody because he’s a punk-ass with no balls.”

“So what?” Michelle said. “You were only shit-talking. Girls talk like that all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s how I saw it too and I didn’t pay him no never mind. He said some shit about how we’ll all see who’s got real balls, then he left. I went outside and saw him standing by my car. He looked like he was surprised to see me coming his way, and when I tried to get in my car, he wouldn’t let me. We started to scrap, and he clocked me upside the head real good with his fist.”

Michelle’s heart rate jumped. “That sonuvabitch!”
Oh, he’s gonna pay for this.

“Wow, that fool can hit!” Nikky said. “I started seeing stars and my knees got all wobbly. Then the muthafucka gut-punched me—took my breath away and put me on the ground. I was so jacked I couldn’t get away or even protect myself, and he started kicking me while I was down.”

As she listened to Nikky’s explanation, Michelle forced herself to calm down and transform her rage to a quiet, seething, scorching hatred. Her resolve deepened with every ragged breath. Had she brought bad luck to her friends? No. The real bad luck had happened the day Deja started messing with that rat bastard Jerome.

“That coward punk muthafucka,” Michelle whispered.

“I don’t think anything’s broke. Breathing big hurts only because I’m bruised pretty bad where he kicked me. I’ll kick his ass next time I see him, I promise. I don’t care if he’s still with Deja or not.”

“I know how you feel; I’m feeling the same. I need you to do me a big favor, though. It’ll be tough to do, but it’s important.”

“What’s that?” Nikky asked.

“I need you to lie low on this. If you go and shoot or cut that jerk, chances are you’ll get thrown in jail, and you being in jail will completely screw up the cha-cha with the party. We can’t let that asshole derail everything. As much as I want to hurt him, I can’t let that piece of shit get in the way of finding out who helped to kill Michael.”

“I feel you. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you about it. You’ve been living with this too long to lose it now.”

“If you can lie low, I promise you, after the party, Jerome will get what he has coming. It’s smarter to wait, too. The police won’t see you as the one he’s having trouble with, and they won’t automatically suspect you.”

“Girl, I’m so pissed at that bastard, I really don’t want to wait. But you’re right, and it’s time we girls got smart about how these fools treat us. Truth is, my side’s all jacked where he kicked me, so I’ll need some time to heal anyway before I bust his ass.”

“We have to tell Deja before we do this thing,” Michelle said. “It’s not right to do something bad to her man without talking to her first. You know that, right?”

“Of course! She may not like it, but she’ll deal with it. She’ll understand he’s got it coming.”

“So we agree. First, we talk with Deja, then later do some damage to that sorry-ass sonuvabitch. Are you good with that?” Michelle asked.

“Damn skippy!”

But Michelle had a different plan, one that kept everyone out of trouble and would still get the job done.