Harlem Girl Lost (18 page)

“All right, man. Damn!” He strode to the rear seats and began to clean out any type of evidence before they dumped and burned the rental he had been driving for the past week on a stolen credit card.

Looking over his shoulder, Chance glanced at him. “Yo, where the rags at? I'm gonna wipe down the front.”

Hollis was in the process of tossing old McDonald's bags and soda bottles from the back of the car. “I think I got some towels in the trunk.”

Chance opened the front door, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and took them to the trunk. He opened it and stared for several moments. Then he lowered the trunk lid. “Hollis.”

Busy cleaning the car, Hollis didn't hear him. Chance looked around the block and called him once again, only louder. “Hollis!”

Hollis stopped cleaning and stuck his head out of the car. “What now, nigger?”

Chance motioned. “Come here.”

Annoyed, Hollis got out of the backseat. “What?”

Chance gritted his teeth. “Come the fuck over here!”

Hollis dropped what he was doing and hastily stepped to the back of the car, where Chance stood. Chance looked around before he lifted the trunk lid again. “What the fuck is that?”

Hollis looked inside the trunk. “It's a body,” he said, almost casually.

“Motherfucker, I know it's a body. What the fuck is it doing inside the trunk?”

Lost for words, Hollis shrugged. “Man, I don't know. I musta forgot about him.”

“Nigger, how the fuck you forget a—” He caught himself and lowered his voice. “How the fuck you gonna forget a dead body in your motherfucking trunk?” He grew even more vexed when he remembered the hit they had just completed. “Nigger, you had me driving this bitch while we did a—” He slammed the trunk lid hard. “You motherfucker …” Chance knew that if anything had gone wrong—like it had—or worse yet, the fucking cops caught him, he would have been doing double life for both bodies over some stupid petty shit. Beyond angry, Chance decided to leave before he did something he might regret, like put a bullet in Hollis.

Chance had first
met Hollis in the neighborhood. He was an orphaned street kid from Haiti who spoke little English. He had watched the tattered, sickly-looking boy search garbage bins for aluminum cans. One day, Chance offered him something to eat, and Hollis had looked up to Chance ever since. After Chance got out of juvenile detention and ran away from his foster parents, he bumped into Hollis again, by now nothing but skin and bones. Chance took care of Hollis as they both started sleeping in abandoned buildings, until one day Hollis got so sick Chance was forced to get him help. Chance
knew that if he took him to Harlem Hospital, the authorities would be notified. Worried for the little boy, Chance took him to an old man from the neighborhood whom Chance had known since he was younger. The man's name was A.O., and he was a local legend who specialized in everything when it came to the streets. A.O. had seen these symptoms before and called a house doctor to come look at him. After the doctor looked him over, it was determined that Hollis had a severe case of pneumonia. The doctor said that Hollis was extremely lucky, because if the boy hadn't gotten medical attention when he had, he would have died in a matter of days. After Hollis was nursed back to health, A.O. let Chance and Hollis stay with him, since neither of them had any parents. They had been together ever since.

Though he and Hollis had been raised together in the game and were considered brothers, Chance knew that, brothers or not, he would not tolerate Hollis or anyone else jeopardizing his freedom. Chance had been locked down at the Bronx House of Juvenile Detention and Spofford for the murder five years earlier. Those sixteen months had nearly driven him mad. Doing life in some prison became his mortal fear, which was why he was so very cautious about every move he made. Being afraid in the street was an asset in his business because it kept you on point, kept your senses fresh. If any drug dealer tells you he isn't afraid, then that's a nigger who isn't doing real things.

Chance cursed himself for putting himself in the mix, because he usually didn't involve himself in Hollis’ side of the business. But when Hollis had caught wire that a nigger that he had a contract on had emerged on the streets, he'd begged
Chance to back him up. Since it was on the spur of the moment, Chance agreed, but only because all he had to do was drive. Or so he thought.

Chance began wiping down the trunk with a cloth as he stared angrily at Hollis. He walked to the driver's-side seat and wiped the dashboard, steering wheel, and door handles, then threw him the keys. “You are a stupid motherfucker!”

“Damn nigger,” Hollis yelled back. “I forgot, damn!” He fanned his nose against the pungent odor emanating from the trunk.

Not since the Harlem epidemic of heroin in the sixties and seventies, when the Italians formed an alliance with Black Murder Inc., run by Mr. Untouchable himself, Nicky Barnes, had Harlem seen such a influx of drug money. But crack money made heroin money seem like chump change in comparison. However, even with all its disadvantages, there were some advantages to capitalize on, and one was murder. It was one business in Harlem that never changed, and it could be very lucrative to the person who had the balls to handle it. One such was Hollis, and he had elephant nuts. Hollis was king in that domain, a cold-blooded murderer. He and his crew of teenagers—mere boys and girls who called themselves the Young Guns—committed some of the most heinous crimes in the underworld. Word on the streets—and only behind his back, of course—was that he was called Heartless, because he was a coldhearted bastard and everyone feared him. Hollis had been murdering men and boys professionally since he was twelve years old. Only eighteen, Hollis no longer got a rush from a simple kill. No, now he got off by seeing them suffer hard and long. Hollis wouldn't blink at killing anybody, man,
woman, or child, because he didn't care, and that was what made him so ruthless. Hollis had death in his eyes, and nobody could deny it.

The ages of his team of killers ranged from eight to eighteen, and male or female, not one of them would hesitate to kill. Hollis invented sick and demented ways to kill his victims. Since most of his victims were other drug dealers, as an extra incentive he would torture them until they told him where they kept their stash. Hollis became very effective at making them talk by slicing their stomachs open and unraveling their small and large intestines before their eyes. At times, if he really hated you, he'd prick you with a hypodermic needle filled with the monster AIDS virus, and watch you die slowly. He'd enjoy seeing you every day as your health declined. He once pricked a boy from the neighborhood, a seventeen-year-old high school basketball star, all because a girl Hollis liked chose the dude over him. He would come up to the sick boy every day and offer his twisted brand of compassion.

“Yo, man, you don't look too good. You got a cold or sumptin? You need to get some of that Buckley's—it's nasty as hell, but it might help!”

Heartless.

NOT IN
A
MILLION YEARS

A
t Birdie's request, Silver stayed in the house all day, just in case, while things calmed down. And the more Tommy was around Silver, the more he took a special liking to her. Tommy, though he was fucking Birdie, was not a homosexual, just an opportunist, and a nigger had to survive somehow. Yeah, he fucked Birdie up the ass, but that was nothing. When Tommy had been up north, that was the only way he'd gotten some commissary and money—by giving niggers back shots and letting the stuff boys suck his dick. And now, if it weren't for Birdie, and for him having a big-ass horse dick, he would be a typical homeless bum. But he still loved a shot of young pussy every now and then.

After two weeks or so, Tommy tried to feel Silver out by purposely leaving the bathroom door open when he took a piss, wanting her to see his girth. He would walk out of the shower wrapped only in a towel and strut in front of her while she was watching television in the living room. Silver tried to pay it no mind, but he started growing bolder and bolder as the days went by. She thought of telling Birdie about it, but felt it would be awkward, and besides, she didn't want to cause trouble
or friction between them, so she put up with it and stayed locked up in her room. In an odd way, she and Birdie had become rather distant lately. Birdie knew that Tommy had been acting differently ever since Silver had arrived, and had seen the way he ogled Silver's body. Birdie was getting jealous, not so much against her, but because Birdie hadn't been loved in so long that it was hard not to feel a little threatened. Even though Tommy was not a good-looking man by any means, he was all Birdie had, and that was hard to come by for him.

Silver reasoned that she just had to make it through the summer and then she would be on her way. The scholarship couldn't come through quickly enough for her. By now, she rarely left her room at all, even to eat. Birdie checked on her from time to time, but that was it. Silver normally waited till late at night to move about and maybe make a sandwich or get some crackers.

On this particular night, Silver decided to take a quick shower and wash her hair while Tommy and Birdie lay in bed watching a movie on VHS. Tommy heard the shower come on, and he began to get a hard-on as he imagined Silver's naked body inside the shower.

“I hope she doing okay,” Birdie said, “ ‘cause this is the first time she came out of her room all day. She ain't even eat.”

Paying Birdie no mind, Tommy rubbed his crotch and began scheming. “Baby,” he said with a false smile, “I feel like some ice cream … some butter pecan. You think you can go to the store and get me some, please?”

Birdie looked at him with a smile and said, “We already got some butter pecan in the freezer. I'll go get you some.” Birdie attempted to get up, but Tommy held him back.

“No, I meant that other kind,” Tommy said, snapping his fingers. “That green shit with nuts.”

“Pistachio?” said Birdie.

Popping his finger bingo, Tommy said, “That's it,” and added like he was a big baby, “You think you can go get you man some?”

Looking at him pout, Birdie smiled and said, “All right, baby, I get you some. Let me just put on my shoes.”

On his way out the bedroom door, Birdie asked, “Do you want anything else while I'm out?”

“No,” Tommy said impatiently, than added, “Wait, get me some chicken. But I don't want that shit from the bodega. Go to that Arab place—U.S. Fried Chicken.”

“That's all the way on Eighth, Tommy.”

Tommy grabbed his dick through his boxers and said, “Please?”

Birdie's eyes lit up, and he said, “I'll be right back.”

Tommy quickly yelled, “Take your time!”

Just as Silver
finished showering and was drying herself off, the bathroom door suddenly opened. She quickly covered herself with the towel. “I'm in here!” she gasped.

Tommy just stood there, staring at her with his beady eyes. Silver tried to slide past him, but he blocked her by putting his arms across the doorway.

“Excuse me,” Silver said.

“What did
you
do?” he asked sarcastically.

She attempted to duck under his arms, but he lowered them. Frustrated, Silver yelled. “Auntie Birdie!”

He smiled. “Birdie's not here.”

“What is it that you want, Tommy?” she asked warily.

“Oh, I think you know what I want.”

Looking in his beady eyes, she yelled again, “Birdie!” She attempted to get past him once more, but he pushed her back.

“Scream all the hell you want. Birdie's not here to help your ass.”

Tommy's large dick protruded from his boxers. Staring down at it, Silver grew scared. “Yeah, lil’ bitch, I'm gonna put all this shit in ya,” he said, and began stroking his meat.

Silver shook her head. “Tommy, don't do this,” she said, trembling fearfully. “You and Birdie is—”

“Fuck Birdie!” he snapped. “That ain't got nothing to do with shit!”

As he approached her, she threw up her hands. “Wait, Tommy, please. I'm a virgin!”

He smiled again. “Shit, you shouldn't have told me that. I ain't had no virgin pussy since pussy had me.”

He snatched the towel off her body, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he ogled her breasts and neatly trimmed pussy hair.

Cowering for cover as Tommy moved toward her, she cast a wild glance at the door. “Birdie!”

Tommy turned around. No one was there, but it gave Silver all the time she needed to run past him and out of the bathroom. She heard him curse and scramble after her, but it was too late. She slammed her bedroom door in his face and locked it in the nick of time. He hit the door and cursed. “Bitch!”

Scared to death, Silver quickly tried to put some clothes on as he pounded on the door, but only had time to put on a T-shirt
before the door was kicked open. Tommy lunged for her like a maniac and slapped her, knocking her back across the bed.

“I was gonna put some Vaseline on my dick,” Tommy said coldly. “But now …” He pulled out his huge dick. “Now I'm gonna fuck ya lil’ ass raw!”

He grabbed her by her hair and lay on top of her.

Silver panicked. “Okay, Tommy, okay, okay … you got it baby, you got it!” She smiled tremulously and forced herself to relax.

Slowly, he released his grip on her hair and searched her face, unsure what to do next. He lifted himself off her slightly, and she continued to reassure him.

“You were right—I do want some of that meat. I have since I first got here.”

He let her up but continued to eye her cautiously.

She forced lust into her voice. “That day when you were in the bathroom and you forgot to close the door …” She giggled. “Well, I saw it. Ever since that day I have fantasized about you making love to me. That's why I started staying in my room. Because I couldn't take seeing you if I couldn't have you.”

She stood. “Come on,” she said, taking him by the hand.

He smiled and stepped closer to give her a hug, and then Silver viciously jabbed her knee in his nuts—he never saw it coming. Tommy keeled over and screamed in excruciating pain as she ran quickly to the front door. She flung open the front door and ran into Birdie, standing on the other side. She cried out in relief at his unexpected presence and threw herself into his arms.