Authors: Treasure Hernandez
Back in the Hood (14 page)
“Yo, Jake?” Mitch called out to one of the other henchmen sitting on the couch.
“What up?” Jake replied.
BOOM!
Out of nowhere, Mitch put a bullet through the back of Bugz's head. “Clean this mu'fucka up.” Mitch glared from one corner boy to the other. “Any of you other niggas who can't follow orders gon' find yourself in the same predicament. I said watch her and feed her. Nothing more, nothing less.” Mitch was furious at what had taken place in his absence.
The room was quiet, but Jake hopped up and did as he was told. He shook his head in shock as he began to dispose of the body, but he didn't dare say a word. He wasn't trying to see Mitch, and he definitely wasn't trying to be next.
Just as quickly as Mitch's temper had flared, it settled, and he went back into the basement. He removed the coat he was wearing and covered Halleigh's body before picking her up and carrying her up the stairs. Her body was limp in his arms, almost like a rag doll. She had no energy to protest her relocation, and Mitch's arms provided her with warmth from his body heat.
Halleigh hadn't the slightest idea where Mitch could be taking her, but she didn't even have the energy to protest anyway. She had been in a damp basement and she knew that whatever he had in store for her couldn't be worse than that.
The first thing Halleigh saw when she emerged from the basement in Mitch's arms was Bugz's dead body on the floor. She looked up at Mitch, who simply stepped over the body without a word then carried her up another flight of stairs. He took her to a bedroom and laid her onto the queen size bed.
“Look, Halleigh, this wasn't supposed to happen,” Mitch finally spoke. “This wasn't part of the plan.”
“Plan?” Halleigh asked with a puzzled look on her face. “What plan, Mitch? What's going on?”
Refusing to allow the tenderness in Halleigh's voice to get to him, Mitch ignored her queries and continued speaking. “I'ma call a friend of mine over here to check on you and make sure you and your baby are okay.” He deliberately put some sternness and bass into his voice to let Halleigh know that even though he was about to get her some help, he still meant business. “Don't act a fucking fool up in here either, screaming and all that. Don't give me a reason to hurt you, Halleigh. I don't want to take it there with you, so don't leave me without a choice. Just chill out for a minute, and at the end of all this, you will walk out of here unharmed,” he said.
Halleigh shook her head in disgust. “I don't understand you, Mitch,” she replied with hatred laced in her voice. Any tenderness or gentleness that had once been in her voice was now null and void. She was confused, hurt, and mad. She needed to get to the bottom of this and find out what was going on. Why would Mitch be doing this to his best friend's woman?
“You were Malek's friend. He trusted you. I trusted you, Mitch. Why would you do this to us? Is this about you and me? I mean, I'm not blind. I've noticed the subtle ways you are with me. And believe me, Mitch, you are a good guy, but . . .” Halleigh's words trailed off before she continued with, “I could never be with you.”
Mitch laughed charmingly, rubbing his neatly trimmed goatee as he shook his head in disagreement. He gently rubbed the back of his hand across Halleigh's cheek. “It was good, ma, but it wasn't that good.” He pulled his hand away.
“I don't beef out over no broad, but let me put it to you like this: maybe if you had chosen differently, you wouldn't be in this situation. This shit don't happen to niggas like me. Only niggas like Malek. He ain't a gangster; he's a ball player. He should've stuck to the game he knew best. Believe it or not, he started this war. Now I'ma finish that nigga,” Mitch said.
Mitch walked over to the door. Before exiting the room, he turned to Halleigh and said, “Now I'ma have my niggas set up the cameras in this room. The windows are armor guarded, and the door has a dead bolt. Don't be stupid, which means don't try anything stupid.” Mitch turned to leave, but then had one more thing to say.
He walked back over to Halleigh. “Oh, yeah, and don't even bother wasting your time thinking about Malek. That nigga is as good as dead.”
He looked down at Halleigh's stomach. “I suggest you better concentrate on keeping you and yours alive.” Mitch reached to stroke Halleigh's face, but she smacked his hand away forcefully and with malice.
Mitch smiled. He couldn't help but admire her loyalty. He had known all along that her loyalty to Malek was the road block stopping him from pursuing her, which is why he never really stepped to her like he wanted to. He knew it would be in vain as long as Malek was still around. Mitch knew that Halleigh would never choose him, even after Malek's death. She loved that boy way too much, and although he didn't like it, he respected it. Any nigga in the game would have loved to have a for-real ride or die chick like Halleigh on their team.
Unfortunately, she'd never be on his, especially not now. With that final thought, Malek turned around and walked out, leaving Halleigh alone.
Although she'd managed to maintain her composure while Mitch spat all that venom about Malek her way, now that he was out of sight, she began to cry her eyes out. Although he had basically promised her that she would be okay, he had also assured her that Malek was going to die. If that was the case, she didn't even care anymore whether she lived. She couldn't see herself living without Malek.
What am I going to do?
she asked herself.
she asked herself.
She could feel herself hyper ventilating. With each forced breath, her heart hurt tremendously. She could feel the pit of emptiness expanding in her stomach. She wanted to scream for help, but knew better than to test Mitch. Still, she couldn't just sit there knowing that her baby's father was about to be introduced to death. She had to do something. She had to make a move. Everyone else seemed to have a plan; now it was time for her to come up with one of her own.
Chapter Two
M
alek breathed heavily and his palms began to sweat profusely. He watched closely as the other people in the bank casually tended to their business all around him, not knowing what was in store for them. He began to fill out a deposit slip under a fake name as he tried to look composed. He took a deep breath and thought,
It's all or nothing.
alek breathed heavily and his palms began to sweat profusely. He watched closely as the other people in the bank casually tended to their business all around him, not knowing what was in store for them. He began to fill out a deposit slip under a fake name as he tried to look composed. He took a deep breath and thought,
It's all or nothing.
With that simple thought, he erased any hesitation that dwelled in his heart. He couldn't turn back. The survival of Halleigh and the child she was carrying in her womb depended on it.
Malek looked around, inconspicuously casing out the place. The bank was small, but under high surveillance. Malek had scoped out the cameras in each corner of the lobby and also the ones that were pointed directly at the tellers' drawers. He also took glance at the medium-built, middle-aged white security guard who stood in the corner. He wasn't just a flashlight security guard either. This guy had a black .45 on his hip. Malek noticed the guard touch it every so often, patting it to make sure it was there. He was most likely a police officer moonlighting.
Malek noted the overzealous look in the security guard's eyes, as if he'd been on the job for so many years just waiting for something to jump off. He knew that the security guard wanted to be a hero. He was just waiting for the opportunity to pull that gun from the holster and shoot it, so Malek knew that if anything went wrong with his plan, the guard would be a problem.
The guard kept a watchful eye on the bank's patrons, still patting that damn gun as if it was a magnet and his hand was metal. Malek knew he was taking penitentiary chances by sticking up a bank, but the only thing on his mind was getting Halleigh's ransom. He clenched his jaws and gripped the pen tightly as he thought about Halleigh probably being tied up somewhere, hoping he would come for her, or even worse, giving up on him completely for not being there to prevent it all from happening in the first place.
Malek's eyes began to water. The guilt felt like a ton of bricks on his shoulders. He knew that it was his responsibility to protect Halleigh and his unborn child, and he had failed. What was like salt in the wound was that this wasn't even the first time he'd failed her. What type of husband and father would he make if he couldn't keep his family safe?
The fact that Mitch had taken his most prized possession had Malek questioning his manhood.
How could I have let this happen ?
he chastised himself.
How could I have let this happen ?
he chastised himself.
Malek glanced at the door as Scratch stumbled into the bank acting drunk off his ass. In actuality, Scratch was as sober as a preacher on Easter. His demeanor was all a part of Malek's plan.
Scratch was to cause a distraction and draw the attention of the security guard while Malek robbed the place. As long as Scratch stayed in character, Malek felt like it was all a sure thing.
Scratch was staggering and talking loud. He held a brown paper bag in his hand. At first sight, it would look like was holding a 40-ounce beer bottle, but the true content of the bag was a pistol. Scratch's finger was already wrapped around the trigger. He was prepared to shoot, just in case he needed to clear a way for them to exit.
Just as planned, the guard immediately motioned toward Scratch, and that's when Malek headed to the first open teller in sight.
Malek's fitted cap was pulled low over his eyes, only showing the bottom portion of his face. He took a deep breath and walked in front of the teller, whose eyes were focused on the ruckus by the bank's entrance.
“Where in the hell is the manager?” Scratch yelled. By now everyone in the bank was looking at Scratch. “My damn ATM card just got stuck and I want my damn money!” he yelled, standing in the middle of the lobby, swaying back and forth as if he couldn't keep his balance. “I'm almost out of my drinky-drinky,” he explained, “and I needs my money to gets some more.”
While Scratch played his part to the nines, Malek approached the female bank teller. He was so high on his own adrenaline that he felt as if he would throw up; but he still pushed forward. Malek reached into his hoodie pocket and slowly placed the chrome .45 on the counter, his finger on the trigger.
Finally pulling her attention away from Scratch, the teller attempted to greet Malek. “How are you toâ” She stopped mid-sentence after she glanced down and noticed the pistol pointed directly at her midsection.
She flinched and put her hand on her chest. “Oh my God,” she whispered as her breathing became shallow.
“Just relax and keep your cool,” Malek instructed in a low tone. “You know what time it is. And if you try anything funny, I'ma have to push yo' shit back, okay?” Malek asked in the most subtle voice he could muster.
The teller simply nodded her head in fear. She was too afraid and in shock to do anything other than that as she stared down at the gun, praying and hoping that it stayed right there in its place.
“Now, I want you to give me the unmarked bills in your drawer,” Malek instructed. “Put them in that big envelope right there.” Malek pointed to a money deposit envelope that was among many stored behind the teller. It was the type of leather pouch that businesses used to make deposits. “Give me all hundreds and fifties, ma” Malek cocked the gun. “And if you even think about triggering the silent alarm, I'm going to make sure you're the first person I kill before the police get here.”
Once again, all the teller could do was nod as her eyes watered and her breaths increased, so much so that her chest was rising up and down and Malek could clearly hear her inhaling and exhaling.
Malek noticed the pictures of the teller and her children that were placed inside her space. “Give me the money so you can go home to your kids. Now, just calm down and be smart,” Malek said, trying to coach her through the robbery.
She fought back her tears while doing just as Malek had instructed.
“You're doing good.” Malek briefly looked over his shoulder to make sure Scratch still had the guard's full attention.
Scratch was nearly to blows with the security guard. He was being pushed out of the bank. “Get yo' mu'fuckin' hands off me, man,” Scratch screamed as he tried to get back into the bank; but the burley guard wasn't having it.
The security guard was too big for Scratch to muscle through, but he was putting up a hell of a fight and causing a scene. Even the bank manager had approached them. With all of this going on, not one person was paying attention to Malek and the teller.
After tangling with Scratch for another minute or so, the guard finally decided to just pick Scratch up and toss him out of the building like Mr. Banks used to do to Jazzy Jeff on
The Fresh Prince of Bel Air
.
The Fresh Prince of Bel Air
.
Just as Scratch was hitting the ground, Malek was coming out of the building. He even smiled at the guard on his way out. The bank deposit pouch stuffed with money was under his armpit, inside his coat.
Scratch got up from the ground, fussing and cussing all the way around the corner. He was sure enough putting on a scene until he rounded the corner, flipping off the security guard as he walked out of sight.
Malek was waiting on him in the parked car. “Let's go, Scratch,” he yelled out of the window as he started up the car.
Scratch hurried into the waiting vehicle. With Malek in the driver's seat, they sped off without looking back.
Before the guard even noticed that the bank had just been robbed, Malek and Scratch were gone. Malek thanked God that he had gotten out of the bank without falter. He would be no good to anyone locked up, and what he had just done was a major risk. Even so, he knew that bank envelope didn't hold all the ransom money he needed in order to get Halleigh back.
As he drove, he got his mental together and prepared for bank job number two.
Just minutes later, Malek and Scratch were at another bank not too far from the one that they had just robbed. Working with very little time, they couldn't afford to take a break. They had to do this thing guerilla-style. Malek knew that he would have to go all out to get the half million.
Malek and Scratch were running the same game that had worked so well at the first bank, but this time they ran into a problem: a cop came in during the middle of their caper.
When he arrived at the bank, Malek had filled out a deposit slip, the same as before. He scoped the place out and noticed the security guard, this one less on guard than the one before. He was too busy checking out the female's asses to pay attention to Malek. The more Malek thought about it, he probably really didn't even need Scratch to perform his Oscar-winning role. The big-bootie women were distraction enough. Still, if it wasn't broke, there was no need to fix it, so things went on as planned.
Ironically, though, an cop came to the bank on his lunch break to cash his Friday paycheck. Just as he pulled up in front of the bank and was about to get out of his car, he heard on his police scanner about the other bank robbery that had just taken place. He listened as the voice on the radio explained how one man caused a distraction while another man stuck up a teller.
At first he was going to drive over to the other bank location to see if they needed any assistance, but decided that since he was already at the bank, he'd go ahead and cash his check and stop by the other bank afterward. He was confident that his fellow officers had everything under control.
When the police officer got out of his car and entered the bank, he walked in and saw Scratch acting a fool. The security guard on duty was almost unable to contain the man. The officer shook his head, realizing that this security guard probably needed his help more than the officers down at the other bank.
“Where the damn manager?” Scratch yelled. “My fuckin' money didn't come out that raggedy-ass ATM machine.” Scratch went on his rant as he walked over to the banker's desk in the middle of the medium-sized bank.
Malek was taking the money from the teller while the security guard was trying to calm Scratch. Just like before, all eyes were on Scratchâwith the exception of the police officer, who had entered the bank in the midst of the mayhem.
At first, it was the officer's instincts to go over and try to help get the situation under control, but then he remembered the call that came over the radio describing the technique used to rob the bank earlier. He looked around, wondering what the chances were of the same exact thing taking place just a few blocks away a few moments later. When he saw Malek and the tellerâthe only two people in the bank not distracted by the commotion going on between Scratch and the security guardâhe knew the chances were greater than he'd initially assumed.
“Remember, just stay calm and everything will be okay,” Malek reminded the nervous teller just as the police officer slipped his hand down to his gun and walked up behind Malek.
Malek tried to keep his head low. His brim covered most of his eyes. He could see the teller slipping one hand under the counter as she gave him the money with her other hand.
“What the fuck you think you doing?” Malek said in a harsh whisper. He pulled back the hammer on his gun, which lay on the counter pointed toward her.
She quickly put her hands where Malek could see them. Before he could do anything else, he heard the voice of the police officer behind him.
“Put your hands in the air where I can see them, son,” the officer ordered with his gun aimed at Malek. “It's over. You're not getting out of here with this money today,” the officer said sternly, but without raising his voice. The cop deliberately used a calm tone because he didn't know Malek's state of mind and didn't want his suspect to harm the innocent teller, who was already visibly frightened.
“Fuck!” Malek cursed to himself under his breath as he thought quickly about what to do. But what could he do with a gun pointed to his head? Still, that didn't keep his mind from racing for a way outâhopefully, with the money.
Within five seconds, Malek had weighed his options and decided to do what he had to do. “I'm not going to jail today,” Malek whispered just before he swung around, catching the unsuspecting cop off guard with his bold actions. Malek immediately began firing his gun, hitting the cop in the midsection.
The cop managed to let off a couple of rounds, but none of them hit Malek as he ducked, dipped, and dodged toward the exit, using people as live body shields to deter the cop from firing at him for fear of shooting an innocent bystander.
The patrons in the bank went into a frenzy at the sound of the gunfire, and it became complete mayhem as screams and the sounds of a stampede caused by the panic echoed through the building. Before the security guard could react, Scratch had grabbed the guard's gun from his waist and pointed it at him. Malek saw the officer he'd shot gasping for air as he dropped his gun and held his mid-section.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Malek repeated as it registered in his brain that he'd just shot a cop. He quickly exited the bank, and Scratch followed close behind.
“What the fuck happened, youngblood?” Scratch asked in confusion as he ran, almost out of breath. Scratch's eyes were bigger than golf balls. He couldn't believe what had just gone down. It was a horrible misstep that was sure to make them wanted men, especially if the cop died.
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