Murderville (22 page)

Liberty went to the window as A’shai walked his mother to the car. He opened her door for her and said, “Tell pops I’m sorry. This is something that I have to do.”

“I know Shai and now that I’ve met her, I understand why. I believe in love and that girl in that house is your soul mate, Shai. She looks at you the way that I look at Baron. She’s good for you. She softens you. You be a good man to her, and you both stay safe. If you need anything just call my cell phone. I will never turn my back on you, Shai. You have made my life so much better over the years. I know you have a pretty young thing in your life now, but don’t you forget about your old lady,” Willow said with misty eyes. She shivered slightly as her tears hit the cold wind, and she pulled the mink shawl she wore tighter around her neck.

“Never,” A’shai said as he kissed her cheek and pulled her coat tighter around her. “Get out of this cold weather, ma. Call me when you make it home just to let me know you made it. I’ll answer.”

He hit the top of the hood once she was inside and turned to walk away. As he stepped onto the porch he heard her blow her horn. He turned and saw her smiling face as she gave him a wave. He waved back and then remembered that the duffel bag full of money was in his backseat. He held up one finger to signal for her to wait and just as he took a step toward the car, he watched her turn over the ignition . . .

BOOM!

A’shai was thrown to the ground as his car exploded before his very eyes, sending burning $100 bills flying into the sky along with a cloud of black smoke. “Nooo!!!!” he shouted as he scrambled to get to his feet, crawling and slipping through the snow covered ground towards the blaze. Liberty ran from the house and grabbed A’shai, but he threw her off him as he went to rescue Willow.

“Noo!” he cried as he bent over and punched at the snow as the fiery steel burned slowly in front of him, crackling sinisterly as if it were taunting A’shai. He knew that Willow was dead. There was no way she could have survived. He knew that this was the work of Samad and that the bomb had been intended for him. He stood and stormed over to Liberty. He gripped her by her arm and pulled her into the house.

“Oww, Shai, you’re hurting me,” she cried as her tears mixed with the snot that ran from her nose. She was frantic and felt extremely guilty because she knew that Willow had just died because of her.

“What’s his number?” A’shai asked as he picked up the house phone. “Dial it!”

Liberty dialed Samad’s digits and as soon as A’shai heard Samad’s voice he spazzed.

“I’mma dead you, you bitch ass nigga. You don’t know how I get down, but I’mma teach you, homeboy. On my dead mother, I’m going to make you wish you never crossed me,” A’shai shouted before hanging up the phone. He picked up the entire base and ripped it out of the wall as he tossed it across the room. A’shai didn’t normally lose his cool, but this was a blow that was so unexpected he reacted without thinking. His legs gave up on him, and A’shai collapsed onto the couch as he buried his head in his hands while sobbing.

Liberty knelt before him and pulled him into her arms as she stroked his head soothingly.

“I’m so sorry A’shai,” Liberty whispered. She was the sole reason his world was being turned inside out. He was too good of a man to ever admit it, but they both knew it was an unspoken truth. “I’m sorry.”

SIXTEEN

“I WANT THE MUTHAFUCKA’S HEAD ON A
fucking platter by nightfall! I’m burying my WIFE today! If he isn’t in the dirt before this day ends, I’mma make the fucking streets bleed!” Baron shouted to his henchmen as he stood in his conference room. It had been years since he had warred with a nigga. He had gained too much respect in the streets for any of the young gunners to ever test him, but Samad had no reservations. He had brought conflict to Baron’s homefront and had taken the one person in his life that had been irreplaceable. “Get the fuck out,” he whispered as he stood at the head of the rectangular table and placed both hands on the surface. He hung his head solemnly as his men left him alone. The range of emotions that filled his chest made it hard for him to breathe, and he loosened his neck tie to open his airways. It had been exactly one week since he had gotten the worst news of his life, and he had yet to shed a tear. He was too full of rage to allow his sadness to set in. He had the rest of his life to mourn; right now he just wanted vengeance. A knock at the door caused him to look up as he watched Nico walk into the room.

Nico didn’t say a word. He was too full of guilt. He was the one who had put the call into Samad, giving him A’shai’s whereabouts. Nico had always been jealous of A’shai. Ever since Baron and Willow had brought A’shai home, he had stolen Nico’s shine. Nico was tired of being behind A’shai. He wasn’t family . . . the same blood didn’t course through their veins. When Nico saw an opportunity to get rid of A’shai, he took it. He had no idea that his beloved aunt would get caught up in the cross hairs.
I tried to stop her from going. If she would have just waited like I told her to none of this would have happened. A’shai’s bitch ass would be a distant memory.

“You heard from Shai?” Nico asked.

Baron shook his head, not wanting to speak about his son at the moment. Although he knew that A’shai wasn’t directly to blame for Willow’s death, he wasn’t innocent either.
I can’t believe I’m putting her to rest today. She is the love of my life. What am I going to do without you?
Baron thought. He cleared his throat as Nico put a firm hand on his shoulder and said, “We have to get going, Unc.”

Baron squared his shoulders, composed himself, and fixed his tie before walking out of the room. Even at his weakest state, he still radiated strength. His long stride was unflinching. The average eye could not sense the turmoil he was going through but those who knew him best could see that the light inside of him had been snuffed out. Willow had been his reason for everything. Without her, he was nothing. He would live out the rest of his days reliving their times together and seeking revenge. Killing Samad would not be enough because it wasn’t a fair trade. Willow’s life was ten times more valuable than Baron’s enemy so an eye for an eye wouldn’t do. Baron wanted to annihilate Samad’s entire existence and wipe him completely off the map. Baron walked into his foyer and shook hands with one of his workers. The man was dressed exactly like Baron and was the same skin color as his boss. Baron handed him a nice-sized wad of hundred dollar bills and nodded at him as the man was escorted out of his home with a bodyguard who was holding an umbrella up to conceal his face. At first glance the man looked just like Baron. He was a decoy for prying eyes just in case Samad had people watching him. Baron waited until the decoy had pulled away in the limo before he and Nico went to the five-car garage and entered his bulletproof black Infiniti truck. Nico pulled open the rear door for Baron and then got into the driver’s seat to escort his uncle to the funeral.

Bitter resentment filled Baron as he stepped out of the car. He touched his hip to make sure his pistol was in place and then discreetly scanned his surroundings. It was a private ceremony so any unfamiliar face would be considered an enemy, but all Baron saw were loved ones around him. As he ascended the church steps he noticed that his hired guns were in place and ready. Anyone who wanted to show up unexpectedly wouldn’t get past the front door. He had made sure to send Willow home in style. No expense had been spared. White calla lilies had been her favorite flower and they filled the church’s altar, surrounding her casket like an angel’s halo. The 14-karat-gold casket sparkled up front. He couldn’t believe that he was about to say his goodbyes. Inside he was broken, but outwardly he remained intact. There was nothing that Willow loved more about him than his strength and he knew that she would want him to stand tall in her final moments on earth. As he stood over the closed casket he bowed his head in silent mourning. The fire had completely singed her skin, not allowing for an open casket ceremony. He would never see her face again, but it didn’t matter. It was etched in his memory like the name of lovers drawn in wet cement. Nico tugged at his suit jacket to get his attention and Baron turned on his heels sharply in discontent as he stared a hole through him.

“Don’t disrespect my final moments with my wife!” he barked.

Nico took two steps back, his eyes wide as he stammered, “It’s . . . I was just . . .”

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Baron said lowering his voice.

“It’s Shai. He’s here,” Nico stated.

Baron walked briskly towards the church’s entrance. Part of him needed to lay eyes on his son. They were all each other had now that Willow was gone, but the obstinate side of him wanted to place blame on A’shai’s shoulders for what had happened. At that moment Baron wanted nothing more than to embrace his boy and share his grief with the only other man who understood. A’shai knew what the world had lost. They were the only two who truly felt the blow.

A’shai got out of Willow’s car wearing a double breasted Versace suit, all black with a slim tie. For the past week, he and Liberty had hidden out in a downtown hotel. He had gone over the last moments of his mother’s life repeatedly, wishing that he had never volunteered his car to her. Her death weighed heavily on him and although he knew that he needed to skip town, he would never forgive himself if he left without paying his final respects. As he walked up the church stairs none of Baron’s soldiers would look him in the face. He went to enter the building and was stopped by one of Baron’s block lieutenants.

A’shai looked down at the hand that was touching him and frowned up as he slapped the hand from his chest. “You must want to lose that hand my man,” A’shai stated calmly as he gripped the man’s wrist at his pressure point, causing him pain.

“Yo, you can’t come in here Shai,” another one of Baron’s workers stated.

“Fuck you mean I can’t come in here?!” he questioned. “That’s my mother!”

“We’re just following orders,” the worker said solemnly, not really wanting to be involved in the family conflict. He gently nudged A’shai, trying to get him to leave, which only further enraged A’shai.

A’shai reached inside his waistline and gripped the handle of his pistol, ready to pop off. He didn’t remove it, but was just waiting for things to get out of control.

“You can move aside or I can lay you down in this mu’fucka. Either way I’m coming inside that church,” A’shai stated.

At that moment, Baron appeared.

“I’ve got it from here,” Baron said as he stepped directly in the entrance to the church. As father and son stood face-to-face they both could sense the extreme hurt in the other. Baron wanted to reach out and embrace A’shai but instead he cleared his throat. “You can’t be here. You’re not welcome, A’shai. I told you what would happen over that girl . . . now look where we are . . . what it’s led to,” Baron stated.

“What you mean I can’t be here, Baron?” A’shai said, calling his father by his name for the first time in years. “That’s my mother in there, fam! You think I wanted this fa’ her?”

A’shai had so many emotions pulsing through him but the one he recognized the most was rage. He needed his father right now, but Baron was showing him shade . . . shunning him and A’shai took it personally.

Whatever small piece of his heart that Baron had left was being broken as he denied A’shai entry. It was taking everything in him to stay firm in his decision. Pig-headed, Baron refused to move aside as he shook his head and repeated, “You can’t be here. You have to leave, son.” Baron turned to one of his goons. “See him to his car.”

A’shai’s nostrils flared as he backed away from the church while nodding his head. By denying him access to Willow’s funeral, Baron had just ripped his heart from his chest. A’shai could barely breathe as he grit his teeth while retreating. He pointed at Baron, stabbing his finger through the air. “Fuck you, Baron. We’re through. You hear me. You tell my mother I love her . . . but you . . . you no longer have a son,” he said vehemently as he turned to walk away. No one moved to escort A’shai to his car. They knew firsthand how A’shai’s temper could flare, and no one wanted to see him. This was between Baron and A’shai; no one else dared to intervene. Baron noticed how his men respected A’shai. They were all fearful of him and secretly Baron was proud but he refused to speak up. His relationship with A’shai had run its course. A’shai was a grown man now, and it was time for them to part. Baron’s eyes misted slightly as he watched A’shai get in his car and drive away. He felt in his bones that this would be the last time he would ever see his son and it hurt. Baron gathered himself quickly not wanting to wear his heart on his sleeve. He refocused on the task at hand and prepared himself to bury the greatest woman he had ever had the pleasure to meet.

Baron paced the same back and forth pattern in his home office for two hours as he awaited the phone call. He had just watched helplessly as men put dirt over his wife’s casket, and he was full of wrath. He wasted no time when it came to putting in work. He already had shooters on the ground in L.A. watching Samad’s home. They had been tracking his every step all week and had learned his routine. Baron was determined to have Samad in a six-foot hole before 12
A.M
. Baron’s home was full of guests, but he was in no mood to socialize. Everyone was respectful and gave him their condolences, but there was only one thing on Baron’s mind.

Murder

Baron couldn’t focus on anything but executing Samad. He only wished that he was there to pull the trigger himself. He went to the mini-bar and poured himself a glass of his finest cognac before taking a seat behind the desk. He took a large gulp and closed his eyes as it burned his throat on the way down. It was funny how quickly life had changed. Things had gone awry in the blink of an eye. He pulled off his neck tie and threw it across the room as he turned to look out of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. His estate was immaculate and vast, but now that he had no one to share it with all he felt was lonely. It was a painful reminder of better times.
I’m getting too old for this,
he thought, knowing that it was time for him to bow out gracefully. After handling Samad he was through. Without A’shai he had no one to will his empire to. All that he had built over the years would be divided and nitpicked by the vultures until there was nothing left. Years of living the champagne life had come to an ugly end. He sipped his drink and watched his phone, waiting impatiently, torturously, for his peoples to call. He was tempted to check in on them but there was no need. They were well-trained and obedient young killers. They would get the job done. All he had to do was let them play their positions and within the hour balance would be restored to the winning team. His doorbell rang, and he winced because he could feel the headache coming on. There were too many people around him. He wanted to clear the house but he felt that they deserved to be there. They were celebrating Willow’s life. How could he turn them away? He arose from his seat, taking the cordless phone with him as he went to answer the front door.