Daddy's House

Daddy’s House

By: Azarel

A Life Changing Book in conjunction with Power Play Media

Published by Life Changing Books

P.O. Box 423 Brandywine, MD 20613

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, or locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Other names, characters,

and incidents occurring in the work are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, as are those fictionalized events and incidents that involve real persons. Any character that happens to share the name of a person who is an acquaintance of the author, past or present, is purely coincidental and is in no way intended to be an actual account involving that person.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: 2007939105

www.lifechangingbooks.net

ISBN - (10) 1-934230-91-X (13) 978-1-934230-91-6

Copyright ® 2007

All rights reserved, including the rights to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Acknowledgements

Wow! As Mary J. would say, “I'm Going Down!” I never thought I'd make it through this one. Daddy's House has been by far a difficult task. Between juggling my CEO duties at Life Changing Books and writing a book- by the grace of God-I made it! My Heavenly Father always makes it possible for me to succeed. Without Him I would be nothing! Thank You.

A special thanks must go out to my family before I continue. To my husband Tony, I know I drive you crazy. Thanks for standing by me through the late nights, long trips out of town, and books invading our house. I keep telling you all this will end soon-I just can't see the end of the tunnel yet. To my girls, who watch my every move- thanks for being patient. I'll do better with changing up our schedule- I think it's funny how everyday you expect to go to the post office, UPS, then to the bank. I love you both. Iman, that ATM card is coming!

I’m so blessed to have a slew of family members who stick with me consistently in life. Mommy and Bill, thanks for always being there. Daddy and Joyce, I'm so thankful for your support. To my two grandmothers, Lover and Gram, I can't imagine what my world would be like without the two of you. And to my grandfather Toot, know that I am here for you. To my sister Tam, I love you dearly. Thanks for being there whenever

I need you. You continue to wear many hats…now you got that Hush thing going (www.boutiquehush.com). I better rock a new bag every week. Kinae, what can I say? You are a little me in training. Stay off the phone! Love ya!

A special shout out to the LCB Board; Don, Jeremiah, Bean, Tamara, and Anthony. Shout out to the Fenners, Cookes, Williams, Newells, Vicks, Kinneys, Fords, Freemans and the Greens. I love you all. Also, to my dearest cousin, Candice. You told me to make sure I put you in the acknowledgements, so I went a step further and wrote this book about you (smile). To my extended family and circle of friends; I could not write books successfully without your support.

There are far too many to name. But let me try to do my best: Leslie German; each and every time we have a deadline, you come through. You may not be able to function after a job; but you handle your business. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Cheryl and Emily, we've known each other for over twenty years, you both are like sisters to me-love you for life. Danielle Adams, girl we are getting old-you know what we gotta do (smile).

Darren Coleman, I gotta crack the whip on you. You have abandoned the whole family we gotta put you in check. Lisa Williams, even though you're a 'rock star' now, you still manage to support me because you gotta run those books out there! If I hadn't mentioned your name, you know I always leave space for you. Write your name here___________________ you know I love you!

To the ladies who hold it down daily at LCB, I don't know how to thank you. You all make it possible for us to do what we do- shine! Leslie Allen, you are Osama bin Laden in a dress. You keep us all on point, and I love you for that. You've been with me since day one through the good and the bad. You wear many, many hats and can't be thanked enough for all you do. Keep riding us- we need the pressure. Nakea Murry, you are the beast in the industry. You know your stuff well, and seem to bring the professionalism needed to succeed, yet you can be crazy when we need you to be (party girl-smile). Thanks for being in my corner. Kathleen Jackson, I thank you for always being there when I need you.

A special thanks goes out to the distributors and vendors who got my back. Hakim, Balde, Gordon, Harris, Sidi, Henry, Nelson, D.C. Bookman, and Lloyd. Know that I appreciate your business and level of respect that comes along with this crazy business. To Kwame and Karen, I appreciate all you've done for me. Nati, you are what this business should be about-integrity. You should teach a class and invite you know who. Thanks for being an honorable black brother. Mr. Evans at Expressions, thanks for keeping me in check. To my authors: Tyrone Wallace, J. Tremble, Tonya Ridley, Tiphani, Capone, Ericka Williams, Nisaa A. Showell, Mike Warren, Mike G, Danette Majette, Sheree Avent, Marissa Monteilh and Carla Pennington, thanks for being apart of the LCB family. Let's kill 'em in 2008. Thanks to the Flexin' and Sexin' family, Kwan, Anna J., Eric S. Gray, Juicy Wright, Brittani Williams and Aretha Temple. You guys put out the hottest anthology ever.

A special shot out to the people who always keep LCB events in place; Keisha George and Reshaun Brent. Your help and support is greatly appreciated. Again, to those of you not mentioned, it's been a rough year for me, so please know that it’s my mind and not my heart.

Peace,

Azarel

Chapter One

The unusual sound outside my low budget apartment scared me once again. I opened my left eye slightly, only to see that my bedroom door was still locked and securely in place. I clearly remember the maintenance man clowning me when I paid him extra money to come by and install the double bolt on the inside of my bedroom door. He thought my cautious nature was over the top, and laughed at me, saying the neighborhood wasn’t that bad. Little did he know, I’d gone up against worst things in my life than just a few neighborhood criminals. Hell, maybe the maintenance man was crooked too, ‘cause I’d been taught to trust no one.

As usual, my hallucinating antics had gotten the best of me. I wanted to get up and double check the noises that I was sure came from outside, but my body lay stuck like it had been glued to the bed. I had just finished another twelve hour shift at Texaco, and wanted to sleep my ass off. Although I’d tossed and turned for hours, the rattling sounds became clearer.
Four o’clock
, I thought,
nobody
should be out and about at this hour
. I lifted my head for a quick second and stared at the clock again, just to verify there were only three more hours before my ass needed to clock back in for work. I closed my eyes tightly, determined to get what sleep I could.

Despite all that had gone on over the past year, I managed to fall back into a light sleep. After all, this was the safest place the Feds had found for me so far. The one bedroom garden apartment was a far cry from my last residence in Flint, Michigan, where drug dealers and pimps lived only two blocks away. It reminded me of Brooklyn, where I was born and raised, and where my life was ruined.

Normally, the witness protection program only offered
some
financial assistance to start you off and
some
employment, but I was classified under special services as
needy
, a nut case is what they really thought. Eight months ago, I started my first day in the program, and nothing had worked until this place outside of Hamilton, New Jersey came along.

It was a decent spot, but I still couldn’t figure out why the Feds would put me so close to New York City, where everything originally went down. I mean, I’d been sent clear across the country, and now I was only two and a half hours away from the place that got me in this situation. As I slipped into what I thought was a deep sleep, I could still hear my mother calling me the day she was arrested; the day we were
all
arrested. “Candice! Candice!” I thought I heard her say. I frowned and twitched under my sheets at the sound of her raspy voice, but was determined to ignore it. I desperately needed some uninterrupted sleep.

I sunk deeper into the covers, and pulled my knees closer to my stomach. I had almost found that perfect position, until the crashing noise of my front door being ripped off its hinges, scared the shit out of me.

Instinct kicked in. I jumped up trying to remember what I was supposed to do. My escape route had been planned and practiced from the first day I moved in. I knew there would come a time when I’d have to run. She wouldn’t let me testify alive; she told me to my face. I remember it like it was yesterday. My own mother really wanted me dead. The rambling and thrashing sounds told me they were trashing my living room. My heart must’ve stopped. All I heard were the words, “She’s in there,” someone said, as they continued to bang.

The voices were deep, muffled, and unfamiliar. From what I understood, my mother, Velma ‘Big V’ Holmes was still locked down, and would be until the trial. Unfortunately for me, she was like God—
there even when
I couldn’t see her
.

Her connections were strong, even in Jersey. Once, these three armed men ran up in her stash house, unloading round for round. Their aim was to knock off everybody in her operation. My uncle said it was like a scene out of an Italian mafia movie. Big V, not only walked toward the bullets, she was somehow able to grab one of the assailants and shoot him dead in the face, blowing off his nose. Always prepared, he said that after her sniper rifle was empty, she exposed a revolver, finishing off the job. My baby Rich told me he was the only one who didn’t run. Everybody else fled after shooting a few rounds. Still in all, Big V and Rich finished the job. I heard my mother never flinched.

The crazy part was that all this went down at an illegal stash house, but somehow, even after the bodies were taken out and the news reporters publicly aired her dirty laundry, she still managed to beat the charges. She got off because the property was in her name, and the assailants entered illegally, with the intent to harm her. Not only that, she dealt with her workers who didn’t stand strong.

We all knew it was bullshit, but her money was long, and her talk-game was right. So, as far as I knew, she could be out on bail right now.
Damn, if this is what she meant by bringing in the heavy artillery, she meant business,
I thought.

“
Bitch, you dead!” one of the voices shouted, from the
other side of my bedroom door. His raging voice brought
me back to reality.

Twenty seconds passed and I was still in my bed,
scared to move.

"Where da fuck you hidin'!" one of the voices shouted
in between more smashing sounds.

Shit, shit, shit, what
the hell am I going to do
? I panicked even more. Fear
took hold of my thoughts. I inched back in the corner of
my bed pulling my covers with me. For some reason I
thought if I'd shielded myself, they wouldn't be able to get
into the room. The hard rattling and powerful shaking of
the knob made me wet myself a little. I wanted to yell
back just to see if my mother was on the other side, but
decided against it. I also wondered if my old love, Rich
was out there too. He claimed to love me, but Big V had
probably convinced him that I was the enemy. Hell, for
all I knew she could've been screwing him. That's how
she got down. She did anything to stay at the top of her game and keep her crew loyal. Unfortunately, she andRich were two of a kind-ruthless. So, if he was after me, I
would be yesterday's trash.