No Home Training (9 page)

Climbing the stairs two at a time, Storm stood outside Paris's door banging until Kenya opened it up looking like she'd seen a ghost. “Storm!”

“Yeah, you good or what?” He pushed passed her with his burner out ready to lay a Negro seriously down for the count. “Did anything else jump?”

“Naw, I haven't moved from the other room until now.”

“Listen, you gotta stop doing all this dumb shit! You gonna mess around and get everybody killed or arrested one.” Storm led her over to the couch insisting she sit down. “Now, for real I'm done playing these silly immature head games with you. Either you can accept the bullshit that's going on or you can pack all your junk, not just a suitcase, but all your stuff and go back home to Detroit. If you don't wanna go back there I'll get you a place wherever you wanna go, but this situation I've been going through this past year is ridiculous,” he lectured with a look of frustration as he paced the small room. “I know I done told some lies, but I just didn't wanna hurt you anymore. So if you choose to bounce, then do it because I'm tired as hell trying to please all y'all motherfuckers!”

Kenya was at a loss for words. Storm, once the man of her dreams, was issuing her an ultimatum to either stand by him or stand alone. She could tell that this was it and her pity party had come to an abrupt end. They'd gone back and forth about this and that for months and now it had come down to this very moment in her best friend's house on her best friend's couch. Kenya's destiny was about to be decided by the next words she spoke.

Taking a deep breath after considering what was at stake, she told Storm what was on her mind. “Do I love you? Hell yeah, I do! Can I get over the fact you and my sister having a baby? Maybe I can and maybe I can't, but the one thing I can't and won't get over is being lied to all the time!” She paused to gather her thoughts. “Right here, right now if you tell me everything that got to do with you and that baby, I'll believe you and we can try to move on from here, but if I find out anymore sneaky shit, I'm done and I will go back to Detroit!”

“You already know all there is to know, plus it seems like my brother gonna end up being my child's father anyhow.”

“Well, I don't know what that means.” Kenya got up standing toe-to-toe with him. “But if you care anything about me you won't lie anymore about jack shit!”

Storm reassured her of his commitment to their once tranquil relationship and swore the secret keeping was over. Anything he did concerning London and the baby, he'd run by Kenya first. Still in a towel Kenya ran another tubful of water and seductively stepped in. Storm sat on the edge watching Kenya bathe as long as he could before undressing, getting in himself.

“We just got a call from one of the officers who's on the stakeout.” Malloy hung up the office phone with a smile of contentment. “It seems they ran the plate on a car that is registered to Tony Christian parked out in the Shady Tree Estates lot.”

“That's good business.” Kendrick clenched his fist. “If he's over there his brother can't be far behind.”

“Yeah, I told the guys to keep a close watch, but from afar.”

“That was quick. What time did they pick up the hit?”

“They got in position about three this morning and that's when they first spotted the vehicle.”

Hopeful that soon it would be some sort of a break in the open cases, the partners went to grab a quick breakfast from an out of the way down-home cooking hole in the wall. Calling ahead placing their food order gave the two detectives time to hang up some more posters pertaining to the capture of their number one suspect in a long list of crimes, including one extremely high-priority complaint that came in just hours earlier in which a single mother of four was robbed and killed in front of her children. The eldest child, just ten years old, described through his tears and grief Marco Meriwether as the lone gunman. With the reward money being increased to $15,000 in light of the latest homicide, maybe someone from the crime-infested community would step up and turn him in.

“Number 103, your order is ready.” The cashier rang up the two breakfasts placing them in a white plastic bag for the officers who headed toward the exit dropping off some flyers on the bench. “Number 104, you up!” she then yelled out.

Bumping into the young guy who was getting up to pay for his food, Kendrick politely excused himself. When Coonee made sure the detectives had pulled out the gravel-filled lot, he picked up one of the flyers that had his homeboy's picture on it. R
EWARD OF
$15,000 was all the broke, out-of-product street soldier could pay attention to. Folding the paper up, he put it in his back pocket then gave the cashier a crisp twenty dollar bill Marco had given him the night before, which was obviously blood money, got the food, and left.

An eviction notice, an empty-ass refrigerator, new sneakers, and his car fixed was all Coonee kept thinking about on the way back to his apartment with his and Marco's breakfast.
Fifteen thousand motherfucking dollars!

“How was your first night back in your old room?” O.T. asked London as she came down the stairs looking for any signs of her twin.

“I hardly slept.” She yawned. “I guess I was busy sleeping with one eye open just in case Kenya was thinking about stabbing me or something.”

“Storm called last night and said him and your sister were gonna stay at my apartment and would be back this morning.” O.T. didn't want to upset her by letting her know that Storm believed Marco was lurking around and Kenya might've been in danger.

“Oh, okay.” London felt relieved she could fix herself a bit of breakfast and wash dishes without looking over her shoulder in fear of Kenya's harsh, judgmental words.

Ring. Ring. Ring. O.T. took the cordless phone off the charger and read the word
UNAVAILABLE
on the caller ID. “Yeah, hello.”

“You have a collect call from Tangy. Will you accept the charges?”

“Hell naw!” O.T. rudely laughed into the operator's ear before hanging up. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang again. When he picked it up he heard the same speech, this time from a different operator.

“You have a collect call from Tangy. Will you accept the charges, sir?”

Knowing the lunatic broad was gonna keep trying to get through all morning O.T. agreed. “Yeah, I will.”

“Caller, go ahead.”

“Hello?” Tangy said.

“What's up, dumb bitch?”

“Who in the fuck is this?”

“Who it sound like, with ya dyke tramp self!”

“O.T. is this your stupid-ass?”

“You still tough as a motherfucker even locked behind those bars. I was just telling our girl Vanessa that the other night when me and her had dinner.”

“Fuck you, nigga! It ain't over between me and Vanessa! I owe that bitch one just like I owe ya punk-ass! Now where is Kenya? Put her on the line!”

“Girl, my sister-in-law ain't thinking about you, so stop dialing this number trying to call shots, you fucking cell gangster!” O.T. teased. “What is you trying to do anyway, steal my brother's woman and turn her out?”

“O.T., you ain't shit!” Tangy screamed through the phone once more. “I hate your ass!”

“Whatever you say, just talk quick 'cause you on my dime.”

“Well, have you went to visit my little cousin?”

“Naw, what in the hell do I need to see that crazy bitch for?” O.T. made sure London, who was still in the kitchen, could hear him. “Me and Paris is through! That's a wrap and if that cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs chick ever talks again she'll tell you that shit her damn self!”

“O.T., you ain't about nothing! One day ya luck gonna run out! Trust that! You just can't keep running over people and think that payback ain't gonna come back on your dumb-ass! Karma is a motherfucker!”

“I know, I know. And I wanna thank you for all the compliments not to mention all your great, wise, and powerful words of wisdom, oh great pussy eater on lockdown, and FYI, ya time is up!” O.T. clicked the phone off with a smile on his face.

After a long, hot night of back-to-back banging, Storm and Kenya left Paris's apartment with a brand new attitude on life. There would be no more blatant lies or misconceptions on what either of them were doing. With a lot of things on both their agendas, Kenya turned left on the highway and Storm made a right as his cell phone rang.

“Hey, O.T.”

“What up, bro, any more signs of that faggot Marco?”

“Naw, he ain't show back up, but he left a note on my damn windshield.”

“What that garbage say?”

“It was a bad drawing of a gun that said bang ya dead!”

“Who that guy think he is, Clint Eastwood and shit!”

“Yeah, right, but that guy don't really want none!” Storm checked his watch. “But it just let us know we gotta find his ass.”

“Don't worry, after this morning, Marco gonna be ghost 'cause now I'm gonna hunt him!”

“Well, I just have to swing by Alley Cats and meet with a couple of contractors, the plumber, and a few electricians who are gonna give me their bids.”

“Then what?” O.T. asked his brother as he went upstairs to get dressed.

“And then I'll be back out to the condo.”

“All right then, I'll holler at you later. I'm about to go down to the projects and see if any of them dudes heard shit about where Marco been laying his head.”

“Watch ya back! Peace.”

“What should we do?” the officer debated with his relief who had just arrived. “Do we follow him or her?”

“Our orders are to watch Tony Christian from afar not his girl.”

“All right then, have a good day and I'll call you with my location about four o'clock.”

As the plainclothes undercover officer started his shift on the round-the-clock surveillance, Storm's car drove by causing him to duck down or risk being seen. With enough safe distance between them, he then took off following Storm's every move.

“Hey now, Charday, please tell a sista you can try to fit me in?” Kenya called her stylist hoping she could get her hair done at the last minute. Taking a quick glance up in the rearview mirror she could see she was looking a hot freaking mess. After all the times and different positions she and Storm had sexually partaken in last night she needed to get herself together.

“Wait a minute, let me check with Sable.” Charday had the receptionist do a quick rundown of her schedule to find any late cancellations. If there was any way possible to hook up a good tipping customer she was definitely going to try.

“Please, girl, I need you! Otherwise I'm gonna have to go to the damn beauty supply and buy a wig!”

“Yeah, Kenya, I can squeeze you in but you gotta hurry okay?” She laughed at Kenya's last comment. “So come on.”

“Not a problem, chick. I'm on my way!”

Just as promised Kenya pushed the accelerator and arrived at Hair In Da Hood in record time. Not wasting a moment by gossiping like she always did when she came in for her appointment, Kenya immediately went to get shampooed. Lying back in the chair as the girl let the warm water rinse through her hair, she got one of her super painful and intense headaches that she'd been suffering from the past few weeks.

Dizzy, feeling nauseated as she got her hair blown dry and styled, Kenya thought she was going to pass out right there on the spot in the beauty shop chair.

“Are you okay?” Charday whispered tapping her client lightly on the shoulder. “You look like hot fired death on a stick.”

“Girl, I don't know what's wrong with me, just stress I guess. I've been trying to deal with them funny-acting insurance claim adjusters and you know I just came back from Detroit visiting my people.”

“Yeah, well you better go home and rest your nerves for a while,” Charday urged as she took the cape off Kenya and walked her to the door.

At the same time she was trying to leave, Vanessa and some bitch were coming in. With an aqua-colored scarf wrapped tightly around her head, Vanessa mean mugged Kenya as she used her shoulder to bump her as the two passed one another.

“Excuse you!” Vanessa kept her hand in her purse on her blade knowing from witnessing firsthand that Kenya was no joke and could buck with the best of them.

“Watch where you going!” Kenya was sick, but still wasn't gonna get punked at the salon.

“Or what you gonna do? Get Tangy to kick my ass?”

“Look, honey.” Kenya cracked a slight smile. “Please believe me when I tell you don't nobody want Tangy's crazy tripped-out ass but you! So why don't you do your pitiful self a huge favor and go on inside and get your wig fixed before I lose my patience and end up splitting that motherfucker!”

“Come on now, Vanessa. I don't know why every time you come in my salon you try to start something about that damned whorish Tangy.” Charday put her two cents in setting the record straight. “You know as well as every other bitch in Dallas knows Tangy be flirting with every female she comes in contact with! So calm the hell down and stop fucking with my customers!”

Vanessa's friend pulled her arm yanking her inside the salon for their appointments, knowing that Kenya and Charday were both right and she was making a spectacle out of herself.

“All right then, chick. Go on home and take care of yourself and call me if you need to.”

“Thanks, girl.” Kenya hugged Charday before practically dragging herself in the car and finally heading home to find God knows what.