Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose (27 page)

There was a sudden knock at the door. Ant jumped. He tip-toed to the door, put his ear to it and listened. The knock came again. “Who?”

“Goddamn Ant. It’s me nigga; Half Pint.” Half Pint was one of the few niggas Ant trusted to bring him coke. They had known each other since East Gant Elementary. Ant still had to take precaution. He left the latch on the door and opened it. All Half Pint could see was an eyeball. “Nigga stop bullshittin’ and lemme in. I got other drops to make.” Ant closed the door, removed the latch and opened the door. “Bout muthafuckin’ time nigga. Where the fuck—”

The door imploded inward. In rushed Detective Patterson and three other deputies with vests on and their guns drawn. “Sherriff’s Office; get down on the ground! Now!” Patterson didn’t wait for him to comply. He simply opened fire. The other officers followed suit. High caliber slugs tore into Ant’s chest and sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor.

In a matter of seconds it was over. Patterson kept his gun at the ready as he approached the body. His partners did the same. He reached down and placed two fingers on the side of Ant’s neck; nothing. Anthony Davis was dead. He hadn’t whispered any dramatic last words like in the movies. “He’s gone,” said Patterson as he stood up. “Everybody clear on what happened here?” he asked, looking at his fellow murderers. They all nodded their heads in agreement. “All right, call this in. And get that other piece of shit back to the jail.” The officers exited the room. Ant’s eyes stared up blankly at the ceiling, seeing nothing as the blood pooled around his lifeless body.

$$$

After intercepting the 11-44 code over the police scanner, it didn’t take long for the news media to arrive. They descended upon The Camelot motel like vultures. The yellow crime scene tape kept the camera crews from getting too close to the actual scene. Reporters from local networks began broadcasting live; yelling out questions.

Against protocol, Detective Patterson chose to address the media and answer their questions. After all, this was his big opportunity. “Is it true that a man was killed here this afternoon in room 109?” a reporter yelled out.

“The answer to that question is yes. At approximately 1:15pm the Sherriff’s office received an anonymous tip that one of Greenville’s Most Wanted was staying here at the Camelot Inn. The suspect in question was a Mr. Anthony Davis, aged 22. Mr. Davis was wanted in connection to a variety of violent crimes in and around Greenville, including armed robbery and murder. He was also wanted for questioning about that violent shooting that occurred at the mall a few months back.” Patterson was sweating profusely as he stood in the hot summer sun. He continuously wiped his brow as he talked.

“Myself and three other deputies were assigned to follow up this lead. With the aid of an informant that had a history of dealing with Mr. Davis we were able to gain entrance into room 109. Upon entering the room, we immediately identified ourselves. The suspect raised an automatic weapon at my person. I proceeded to use necessary force to take the suspect down,” he said looking directly into the cameras. Reporters began yelling more questions at the detective. “That’s all I have for now ladies and gentlemen.”

The cameras panned away from him and onto the sealed body bag that was being rolled out of room 109 on a stretcher. The stretcher was placed into the back of a waiting ambulance. The paramedics slammed the rear doors shut with a sense of finality.

$$$

“No, no, no, NOOO!” Meka screamed out hysterically at the top of her lungs. She had just finished watching the newscast in which Detective Patterson had stared into the cameras and practically gloated about murdering her brother. She’d always known there was a possibility Ant would be killed. But now that it had actually happened it was too much for her to bear. Meka’s heart was overwhelmed with pain and guilt. A part of her was gone forever and she’d never even get the chance to say goodbye. It wasn’t supposed to have ended like this. Not like this. “Nooooo!”

CHAPTER 34

Meka was in her mother’s house packing. She wanted to be ready for her flight tomorrow. A few weeks ago, Dre had told Meka that he was heading back to New York and that he wanted her to come with him. Initially, she’d said no. Greenville was her home; it was all she knew. All of her family was here. But after giving it some serious thought, she’d recently changed her mind. Yeah all her family was here but they didn’t give a fuck about her. They never had. Yeah Greenville was her home but what did she really have here to hold on to besides a bunch of bad memories and pain?

It was a week after Ant had been murdered. The emotional wounds were still very fresh and cut deeply. As she stuffed her suitcases with clothes, her mind would inevitably drift to thoughts of her brother; happier times. Tears ran down her cheeks as she thought about pieces of her heart that she could never get back. The events of the past few weeks had scarred Meka forever.

Mike was now brain dead, withering away in a hospital bed unable to breathe on his own. Ant was dead; murdered by the pigs in blue. Meka had also just found out that Gloria was back running the streets again; doing whatever she could to get high. The more Meka thought about it, the more she knew that leaving with Dre was the right move. It was time to get away from Greenville and start anew. But before she did there was something very important she needed to handle…

$$$

David Patterson had been promoted to Lieutenant after the killing of Anthony Davis was ruled ‘justifiable’ by the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division. S.L.E.D as they are more commonly referred to, is the state’s top law enforcement agency. They investigate all deaths and shootings by the gun of an officer. Their track record for being biased in favor of officers was notorious. It was no surprise to anybody in the black community when they came back with their speedy decision.

There had been an elaborate ceremony at City Hall attended by Mayor Bob White, several city council members, the Sherriff, and other high ranking law enforcement officials. At the ceremony, which was also attended by the public and captured by several local news media, Patterson was heralded as a hero who had risked his life in order to make the citizens of Greenville safer. The former detective basked in the glow of public adulation and honor. All the years of hard work and corruption he’d put in on the force was paying off.
Finally
, thought Patterson.

$$$

David Patterson pulled up beside the black prostitute in his new grey Buick Lasabre. It was a little past midnight. He was easily able to blend in with the other customers in and around ‘the cut’, who had come out under the cover of the night to get whatever fix they needed. “Hey honey,” Patterson said as he pulled up beside the black woman and rolled down his passenger window. Her dress was tight and cut short. She gave him a good view of her full braless titties as she leaned into his car.

“You looking for a good time sugar?”

Patterson leered at the woman. He reached down and rubbed his crotch. “I’m always looking for a good time babe. How ‘bout you hop on in this here car and show me what kinda fun you talking about.” The whore got in.

“Ok buddy its $50 for head, $80 to fuck and $150 for my asshole. All that freaky stuff like pissing or taking a shit on me is 50 bucks extra and you pay for the motel room.” She ran down her list of services and prices as if she was going door to door selling Avon products. “Of course I’d prefer cash but if you got some crack…”

Patterson pulled out his badge. “Shut your fucking trap you black bitch.” All the feigned niceness evaporated from his voice. “You got two options: I can arrest your ass and let you spend a couple days in the county or you can suck the skin off my dick and I’ll let you go. And I ain’t got all goddamn night either.” The crack whore didn’t hesitate. She reached over and pulled Patterson’s uncircumcised dick out of the already opened zipper in his pants. She began sucking.

Patterson closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he got sucked off. The whore was a little older than he preferred but what the hell. It wasn’t like he was paying for it. He smiled to himself. Despite being elevated to the rank of Lieutenant and given a desk job, David Patterson still enjoyed the thrill of picking up a whore and getting a nice good blowjob every now and then.

There was a sudden knock at the driver’s side window. Lieutenant Patterson opened his eyes, furious. He’d been about to cum. He placed his hand on the head of the woman sucking his dick, telling her to keep going. The knock came again
. Probably some homeless fucking junkie
, thought Patterson as he rolled down the window. “What the…!?” The last word died a horrible death in his throat as he realized he was staring down the endless hole of a high caliber pistol.

“This is for my brother muthafucka.” BOOM! BOOM! Two slugs tore into David Patterson’s face and the side of his head. The crack whore jumped up with a mouth full of semen. The flash from the muzzle of the gun had briefly illuminated the interior of the car. For a few brief seconds that seemed like years, Meka stared into the eyes of her mother. She turned and fled.

EPILOGUE

The American Airlines plane sat on the tarmac at Greenville Spartanburg International Airport waiting to take off. Tameka Davis sat in her seat next to the window and stared outside. The morning summer sky was a peaceful blue as the sun ascended. Beside her, in the seat next to the aisle was her boyfriend Dre. The flight attendants walked the aisles smiling as they made sure everybody was comfortable.

Meka didn’t hear them. She was in a zone as she reflected back on all the craziness and drama that had transpired over the past couple of years. All of the bloodshed, the death, the pain, the love lost. She thought about how much she had lost; loved ones and friends she would never see alive again.

5 months pregnant, Meka’s emotions were all over the place. As much as she tried, she couldn’t hold back the tears as they silently slid down her beautiful brown face. The more Meka thought about it, the more she realized that it wasn’t just the past couple of years; her whole life had been hell. But she had survived. She was still here. Even after everything she’d been through, she was still here. There had to be a reason.

Meka stopped crying. The bright sun dried the tears that had silently streamed down her face. She looked over at Dre and smiled. “What’s good baby? You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Meka said, still smiling. After a brief pause she rubbed her protruding belly and said, “Dre… I’m having twins.” She hadn’t needed to visit a doctor to know this. She felt it. Still smiling, Meka looked back out the window. Tameka Davis had finally found her reasons for living.

Author’s Note:

Unlike many writers I feel a duty to my people to portray our lives as realistically and humanely as possible. I literally laughed, cried, got upset, felt sad and felt deeply for these characters as I wrote this story. As if they were real; because in every town, city or state across America I know these aren’t just characters. These ARE real people going through real situations as they attempt to make sense of and navigate through the harsh, chaotic circumstances they’ve been born into.

I hope you were thoroughly entertained by this novel. I also hope it made you think and opened your eyes to the harsh realities that we as a people face at the bottom of societies economic ladder. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on my latest work of art.

Peace & Love

Ladies & Gentlemen, for your reading pleasure,

Synergy Publications is proud to present a sneak preview of …

HBIC:

Head Bitch In Charge

Book I

By Caroline McGill

Prologue

In a crowded Brooklyn church in the heart of Bedford-Stuyvesant, a young woman sat at a piano pounding on the keys and directing three little girls with the voices of angels. The young woman was especially proud because the singing cherubs belonged to her. Her daughters, Etta, Elaine, and Elle were just ten, eight, and five years old. “The Mitchell Sisters” were singing their little hearts out and making a joyful noise unto the Lord. They had the church rocking to their rendition of the old gospel favorite, “Trouble In My Way.”

“
Trouble in my way (trouble in my way) I have to cry sometimes (I have to cry sometimes) So much trouble (trouble in my way) I have to cry sometimes (I have to cry sometimes) I lay awake at night - but that’s alright (That’s alright) Because I know my Jesus (Jesus, he will fix it) I know my Jesus (Jesus he will fix it) After while …”