A LaLa Land Addiction (22 page)

Naomi sighed but nodded her head. “Okay,” she agreed.

He peeled off a knot of hundred-dollar bills. “Get her whatever she wants,” he instructed.

Naomi wanted to protest, but she didn't. She took the money and gave him a quick kiss before he rushed out of the mall.

Naomi turned back to Bleu. She peeled off three hundred dollars. She knew that she was being petty. Noah had left five bands for Bleu to get some of the things she needed, but Naomi wasn't comfortable with her man giving another woman so much dough.

“You can get what you want and meet me back here in an hour. I'm going to the nail shop,” Naomi said.

Bleu took the money. “Okay, that's cool,” Bleu replied. She watched Naomi walk away, ensuring that she was out of sight before she walked hastily out of the mall. She hadn't had money in her hands in so long that she had forgotten how it felt. All she wanted to do was score. It was like her body turned to autopilot as a growing grumble grew in her belly. Gas filled her as anxiety grew in her heart. As she climbed on the city bus she knew she was making a mistake, but still she didn't stop. The day had been overwhelming. Naomi's probes, Noah's expectations, her own guilt. She was a ball of emotions and it had her spent. There was only one sure way to ease the tension and erase it all, and she had a pocketful of money. Bleu was about to get high all night. She would deal with the consequences in the morning.

*   *   *

Messiah was waiting curbside as soon as Noah stepped out of the mall. He hopped into the passenger side.

“Now what was you saying on the text?” Noah asked.

“The niggas that Bleu was supposed to testify against upped the price on her head. Word spread the streets like crazy too. You got a problem on your hands,” Messiah said. “Might want to think about sending her back to L.A.”

“That's not an option,” Noah said firmly.

“Then you know what you got to do,” Messiah said. “I know where them niggas be. I can send the goons through. Clean that up real quick,” he said.

“Yeah, put the call in,” Noah said.

“Time to heat up the city?” Messiah asked.

“Absolutely,” Noah replied. He was livid at the fact that the hit on Bleu had been revived. It was the reason that he had sent her away the first time. She had come to him confessing her love for him, and Noah had told her to go to Cali. She had no idea she was even wanted in the streets. It was a decision that he now regretted and he wouldn't let anyone else force his hand to get rid of her. As long as he wanted her around, she would be around … he would have to make niggas respect it.

*   *   *

It was a pitch-black night. Only the sounds of crickets broke through the silence as Noah and Messiah pulled up to the one-story house. Nothing moved inside. Noah exited the car and the sound of the slamming car doors seemed foreign in the stillness of the night. The two cars that followed him were filled with men who would kill for him at the drop of a dime. They were about to get their hands dirty tonight, but it was Noah's soul that was about to turn black. He didn't even like to move like this. He only took these measures when it was absolutely necessary, but when Bleu's safety came into question it would play out this way every time.

Noah nodded his head and his goons approached the house carrying gallons of gasoline. Noah never stepped away from the curb. He and Messiah stood back as their men poured gas all over the porch, around the sides, on the windows …

“No women and children, right?” Noah confirmed.

“I play by the rules. I snatched them up just like you said. Had the baby mama call home and tell her nigga she was staying the night at a friend's house. I'll go back and cut the bitch loose once it's done,” Messiah answered.

“She see your face?” Noah asked.

“Come on now, my g,” Messiah answered, reassuring Noah that it had been done correctly.

Noah didn't need the screams of women and children on his conscience. The deaths he was about to deliver would rock the entire hood. The Snell brothers would feel the fires of hell tonight. Noah walked up to the porch and pulled a matchbox from his pocket. The old Noah would have hesitated. He wasn't afraid to kill, but he hadn't believed in grandstanding. But being head of his own team, he knew that sometimes he had to show the hood exactly how he could get down when pushed. Bleu's face popped into his mind and he struck the match against the box, watching the flame dance briefly. He knew that once he committed these murders he would never be the same. It was too heinous of an act to come out on the other side of it alive. He tossed the match onto the porch and like a cat chasing a mouse the flame spread across the wood swiftly.

The bars that had been placed on the windows were supposed to be for protection. They were supposed to keep the dangers of the neighborhood out, but on this day they trapped them inside. Noah waited until he heard the screams before he turned and headed back to his Range. They were bloodcurdling and put a sick feeling in his belly, but Noah disregarded the guilt, citing the greater good of his heart. With the Snell brothers dead, Noah didn't have to worry about the hit on Bleu's head or think about the state forcing her to testify in open court. She was free. Now he just had to help her break her mental chains so that she could go back to being the girl she used to be.

*   *   *

Naomi paced back and forth as she waited for Noah to come home. She was terrified.
How did I lose this bitch?
she thought as concern filled her. She didn't care about Bleu's well-being, but she did care about Noah finding out that she didn't really give a damn at all.
He shouldn't have put this on me in the first place. That damned girl is not my responsibility. I am not her keeper,
Naomi argued with herself, trying to develop her defense and get her story together before he even walked through the door.

It was close to two o'clock in the morning when Noah's headlights pulled up to the house. Naomi's breath caught in her throat.

“Just act worried,” she told herself aloud.

Noah entered and Naomi could see by the look on his face that it had been a hard day. He was serious, his forehead creased in brooding. Noah had put in work tonight. Naomi could always tell because the look in Noah's eyes changed whenever something heavy went down. They turned coal black as if he had seen something so evil that they had been stained in darkness.

“Bleu's gone,” she said, just blurting it out as soon as he laid eyes on her. She wrung her fingers nervously.

“Fuck you mean, she's gone? Do you know what I just did for her?” Noah barked. “You were supposed to keep an eye on her for me. What happened?”

“I don't know. We were shopping,” Naomi started, realizing that she was about to lie to save her ass. “Then we decided to get our nails done. She told me she had to go to the bathroom, but when I realized she was taking a super long time I went to check on her and she was gone.”

Noah wiped his face in frustration as he took a seat on the couch. “And you just now telling me? Why you ain't hit my line as soon as you realized she was gone?” Noah shouted.

“I did!” Naomi lied. Truth was, she wanted Bleu gone.
Hopefully the bitch took that three hundred and got ghost.
“Your phone kept going to voice mail.”

Noah gritted his teeth in frustration. “She ain't got no paper; she couldn't have gone too far.”

“I think she stole some money from my bag before she left. There was a couple hundred dollars missing when I went to pay,” Naomi added.

Noah closed his eyes to hide the sorrow that swept through him. He knew exactly where Bleu had gone. Noah stormed out of the house and hopped into his Range, headed back to the abandoned apartment building where he had first found Bleu. He couldn't get there fast enough. Fear and dread filled him. He was terrified for his friend. He hoped that she hadn't smoked anything yet, but he knew the possibility of finding her sober was unlikely.

He pulled into the apartment complex and around to the back, parking wildly as he hopped out of the truck. The hustlers who manned the block were out, each competing for sales, and they all nodded, showing him respect as he made his way inside. His blood boiled, but he didn't know exactly who to blame. He understood that addiction was an illness, so he couldn't blame Bleu. She had just gotten caught in the trap. It was like quicksand: the harder she fought it, the deeper she sank. It couldn't be Naomi's fault. She wasn't responsible for Bleu. Then he realized that it was his fault; maybe not directly but indirectly he was contributing to the problem. He was flooding the streets with shit that was corrupting the next man's wife or daughter or the next kid's mother.
It's niggas like me that poison the hood. I'm damaging my own people,
Noah thought. It was all in the pursuit of the almighty dollar. Society had him thinking that this was the only way for a black man to get rich. He had grown up looking up to the dope boys and kingpins. The legit men had been considered squares, but those squares took care of their families without fear of repercussion. They didn't leave their families to sit behind steel and concrete. Noah didn't want to be one of those men, but as he entered the abandoned apartments he knew that he was responsible for each one of the brothers and sisters sitting in there getting high. Bleu just happened to be the one he loved.

He felt a rage that he had never experienced before. He was mad at himself for playing right into society's hands. He had been a little black boy who grew up to be exactly who they told him he would be. They hadn't expected much of him and he didn't disappoint. He had become exactly who they wanted him to be … nothing.

Noah found Bleu sitting in the corner of the basement, grasping a crack pipe in her hands. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was gone. He was too late. She was already on a cloud.

“Noah!” she exclaimed when she saw him. “Hey, boy!” Her excitement was induced by the drugs that flowed through her system.

“Hey, B,” he said as he bent down, tears clouding his vision. She pouted playfully when she noticed his tears as she held his face and wiped them away.

“What you crying for? I've never been better. I love you so much. You're my best friend, boy. You know that?” she asked.

He composed himself as he stood. “Yeah, I know that, B,” he replied. He stood up and held out his hand to her. “Come on. Let's get home,” he said.

Bleu followed him willingly.

“Come show me who served you. I want to know. Where did you get the shit from?” Noah said seriously, his tone flat as he pulled her from the basement.

When they entered the courtyard at the back of the building Bleu pointed her finger to the opposite side of the yard. “That's him,” she said.

“Wait right here,” Noah said, feeling heat expanding in his chest as his temper flared. He didn't know if he was mad at himself or mad at the little nigga moving twinkies across the way, but it was too late to contain it. Noah left her where she stood. “Yo, my man, let me holla at you,” he said as he walked over to the hustler. “You served homegirl right there?” Noah asked.

“Hell yeah. I low-key wished Shorty ain't have no paper. I would have let her pay in pussy with her fine ass,” the hustler stated pompously as he eyed Bleu from afar. He was none the wiser of Noah's anger. Noah pounced on him like a lion on prey as he pulled his pistol and grabbed him by the back of the neck simultaneously.

“Get cha' ass out of here,” Noah growled through gritted teeth. The four other dope boys who worked the complex grew weary as they noticed Noah pulling their comrade to the middle of the courtyard.

“Aye, man. What the fuck?” the hustler protested.

“All you niggas hear me and hear me well. You see Shorty right there? That's me. If any of you mu'fuckas serve her, this is what happens!” Noah barked. Bleu looked on in horror, her eyes wide as she watched Noah put the pistol to the man's temple.

Bang!

The .40-cal pistol was so loud that the entire hood seemed to echo as the body fell to the ground.

All the blood drained from her face. This was a side to Noah she had never seen. Noah didn't even give a damn about the life he had just taken. He had caught three bodies since Bleu had been back in town. He had always known that she brought out the best and the worst in him, but her addiction was bringing out a completely new beast.

“Let me go,” Bleu whispered as Noah grabbed her up and practically dragged her to the truck. “Noah. Why did you do that?” she cried.

“I'm not playing anymore, B. You are responsible for that nigga losing his life. You have to stop this shit. You've got to get better, because every time you cop from anybody in this city I'm putting the burner on 'em and it's only so many times I can pop a nigga before I get caught. I just murdered a nigga in broad daylight, Bleu, over you. His death is on you, and when I go back to prison behind some dumb shit that's gon' be on you too!” he shouted. “You want that?”

He fussed at her all the way until they got to his truck before tossing her inside. She didn't speak. Her eyes just filled with tears as she sat back and let him drive her home.

They didn't say one word to each other the entire drive. She was mad at him for blowing her high. He was mad at her for being so reckless with her life. Even when they arrived in the driveway they sat there, silent, brooding in anger.

“Do you trust me?” Noah asked.

“You know I do,” she said, staring out her window and refusing to look in his direction.

“Good, because I'm about to do something that you won't like, Bleu,” Noah said. “I just need you to remember that I love you. What's coming next is going to be hard, but I'm going to fight for you because you can't fight for yourself,” he said.