Murderville (8 page)

“How did you get that?” she asked hoping not to hear the kind of horror story that comes with having bad scars.

“It’s nothing. Just a little scratch,” A’shai said as he blew it off. A’shai began to grow uncomfortable with all of the questions and then he noticed that the sun was going down. He knew that he had to return to the warehouse before dark or risk being beaten. “Thank you for giving me dinner, but I have to go now,” he said urgently as he stood up. The thought of being late and being punished made A’shai’s limbs shake and he began to grow nervous. Baron caught on.

“Are you okay, lil man?” he asked as he frowned at the sudden change of behavior.

“Yeah, I just have to go before they notice that I’m gone,” he said. Willow began to tear up as she thought about her childhood. She, too, was a human slave as a teen, but was lucky enough to have met Baron in the same town that they were in, Tijuana. They always came back to Tijuana on their anniversary to celebrate the day that he met her and purchased her freedom from El Garza. It may have seemed like an odd tradition, but Willow actually found peace by revisiting the place that she had been rescued from. She never wanted to forget where she had come from. It was therapeutic for her in a way. Each year she left a little bit of her painful past in Tijuana instead of allowing it to weigh down her heart. Baron was one of the most successful businessmen and drug kingpins in the Midwest, and El Garza valued their working relationship. Working for a man who trafficked humans initially turned him off, especially after rescuing Willow from his clutches, but he used his position of power to his advantage. Willow urged him to get the money and to continue to profit off El Garza, but she always made sure to give back. She opened a safe center in Tijuana for the women and children who were able to escape the modern day slave system . . . all with money that El Garza helped her husband make. So instead of Tijuana being a bad place with bad memories . . . to her it was a place that needed her presence and one that reminded her to cherish her freedom. Willow knew that A’shai was in the same boat she had been in years ago. Baron also picked up on it.

“Listen, do you work for the Garza family? You can tell me,” Baron said as he stood up and walked around the table to A’shai. A’shai nodded his head yes.

“He is an old friend of mine. We should go have a talk with him,” Baron said as he placed his hand on A’shai’s shoulder. Baron was actually in town to discuss business with the Garza family and negotiate better cocaine prices. He had a great business relationship with the family and was sure that he could work out something.

They left the restaurant and headed over to the Garza warehouse. A’shai told them the truth about how he got to Tijuana, and it nearly brought both Willow and Baron to tears. Baron and Willow decided at that point that A’shai would return to the States with them. They had no children of their own, and it seemed like fate brought them to A’shai. Willow, because of earlier sexual abuse, was unable to have kids, so she was open to taking in A’shai. The fact that A’shai was from her homeland made bringing him home with them even more special to her. A’shai connected Willow to her roots, and Baron understood that. When he looked in A’shai’s eyes he saw the eye of the tiger. They both fell in love with the young boy in that brief meeting, and the rest was history. A’shai left on Baron’s private jet back to Detroit, Michigan with them that night. He had been one of the lucky ones. He had found a way out, however, Liberty’s fate wouldn’t have the same storybook ending.

* * *

The clanging of chains being unlocked awoke Liberty from her restless sleep as two of the workers entered her room and closed the door behind them.

“Be the lookout. Once I’m done you can take your turn,” one of the men said as a slight bulge appeared inside his pants. Liberty scurried to the corner of the room and cowered as the man removed his gun holster and lay it gently near the door. “I’m going to make a woman out of you,” the man said as he grabbed Liberty roughly and flung her fragile body onto the steel frame that served as a bed.

“No!” she shouted, seeing the same ill intent in this man’s eyes as she had seen in Ezekiel’s. Her feet went flying in the air and her fingers clawed at his face as he climbed atop of her, manhandling her into submission. She had no strength, but she came out like a lioness cub to protect herself. The scent of the man as he weighed her down with his body made her stomach turn and as his hands roughly parted her thighs, he forced his tongue into her mouth. Liberty bit down as hard as she could, drawing blood.

“Agh!” the man screamed as he brought his hand to his mouth in disbelief. “You bitch!” he screamed hysterically. The blow that followed made Liberty’s neck snap so violently to the side that she feared her neck had broken. Dazed, her head fell back onto the bed and her body went limp momentarily. The room became hazy as she felt the man ripping her clothes from her body. She fought him, removing his hands from her body, but he was too strong for her. Determined to snatch her virginity away he entered her roughly. He penetrated her with so much force that he broke her pelvic bone. The pain was too much for Liberty to bear, and her body went completely limp as she gave up. She realized that no matter what she did, she could not stop this and the more she fought the more he hurt her. So she lay still as endless tears rolled down her cheeks, allowing herself to go far away to a state of mind where no one could touch her . . . withdrawing within herself so deeply that she found peace despite the evil going on around her.

SIX

EIGHT YEARS LATER

“I NEVER COULD UNDERSTAND YOUR PEOPLE,” THE
white, middle-aged Canadian said as he unfolded his clasped hands. He then grabbed the cigar out of the ashtray and took a pull. “Blacks always want it all. So selfish with what could be easily shared,” he said with an arrogant smirk on his face. Baron sat across from him while A’shai also joined them at the table. They were on Baron’s estate to discuss business. They sat poolside as an oversized umbrella loomed over them, blocking the beaming rays of the sun. Bonzi, the Canadian, wanted Baron to give up some of his territory so that he could move in. The name of the game was cocaine and that’s what Baron sold wholesale to the streets. Bonzi was Baron’s source of the illegal substance, and now he wanted to move his nephew in town so that he could get a piece of the pie. Needless to say, Baron wasn’t having it.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, my friend,” Baron said as he took a sip of his cognac and then rubbed his neatly lined salt-and-pepper goatee. A’shai stayed silent as usual, as he sat back and listened. Baron always had A’shai sit in on his business meetings, legal or illegal, so that he could soak up the game. Since the day Baron had taken A’shai in, he began grooming him to be a better version of himself. Although the same blood didn’t run through their veins, A’shai was Baron’s boy. A’shai, now at the age of twenty-one, was a well-seasoned businessman and although he was a month away from receiving his bachelor’s degree from Michigan State University, he had already gotten a Ph.D from the streets.

“So, what’s it going to be? My nephew is a knucklehead from back home. I’m just trying to get his feet wet. I want to set up on the lower Eastside, and that’s just a small portion of your region,” Bonzi stated.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do it. The Eastside is one of my most lucrative areas. I can set him up in a small city just outside of Detroit. Maybe Flint perhaps?” Baron said trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

“You niggers just don’t know your place,” Bonzi mumbled under his breath as he shook his head in disbelief. Still smiling, Bonzi put out his cigar. He couldn’t take a black man telling him what he couldn’t do. His hidden racism reared its ugly head. A’shai quickly slid his hand down to his .45 caliber pistol after hearing the insults from the millionaire druglord that sat to the left of him. Baron smoothly put his hand on top of A’shai’s and tapped it, signaling for him to cool down.

“I guess our business is done here,” Baron said as he smiled and extended his hand.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Bonzi agreed as he downed his cognac. It was unspoken but it was evident that their business relationship had just ended. A’shai was burning up inside as he clenched his teeth and stared at Bonzi, displaying his chiseled jaw line. Bonzi paid the youngster no mind and focused his attention on Baron. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Bonzi asked. The underlying threat didn’t go unnoticed by Baron.

“I’m positive,” Baron said as he extended his hand to Bonzi. A’shai began to rub the scar on the right side of his cheek. He had a bad habit of doing that when he was angry. A’shai couldn’t understand why his father was bowing down to Bonzi.

“Let me pour you a shot of my finest cognac, before you leave. I insist,” Baron said knowing that Bonzi was a fan of good aged cognac. Baron threw his hand in the air as he motioned to his butler who was standing by the guest house.

“Winston, please bring me the special bottle that I have in the china cabinet,” Baron yelled. Just as quickly as he said it, the butler disappeared into the house to retrieve the drink. A’shai was still boiling as he rubbed the side of his face. Baron patted his thigh under the table, signaling him to calm down. Baron unleashed his perfect smile at his son and then focused back on Bonzi who couldn’t believe that Baron had refused his offer. A man of Bonzi’s stature rarely received ‘no’ for an answer.

“You’re going to learn, Baron. You have to change with the times. You have run the black market in Detroit for far too long. It’s time for change. It’s time for a new era,” Bonzi said, already thinking about how he and his goons would move in on Baron’s territory.

“I agree. It is time for a change. That’s why my son is going to take over for me,” Baron said as he patted A’shai’s back and smiled. A’shai was still looking at Bonzi.
Just give me the word, I’ll put two holes in his head,
he thought as he sat there tight-lipped. He hated to be disrespected and by Bonzi disrespecting Baron, A’shai felt it also. He couldn’t believe that Baron was backing down and letting Bonzi’s threats slide. At that moment, the butler came with the bottle of cognac on a sterling silver platter.

“Thanks Winston,” Baron said as he grabbed the cognac and poured Bonzi a glass.

“Well, gentlemen, I think that’s my cue. I will see you again,” Bonzi said as he stood up and downed the cognac. Bonzi’s bodyguard stood about twenty feet away and moved on request as Bonzi motioned to him, indicating that it was time to leave.

“I’m sorry it had to go down like this,” Baron said as he stood up and buttoned up his Armani blazer. “Excuse us. Winston will see you out.” Baron extended his hand and headed towards the house. A’shai followed suit and slid his hands in his pants as he walked alongside Baron.

“Pops, why did you let him talk to you like that? I was ready to body that mu’fucka,” A’shai said as he expressed his anger.

Baron threw his arm around his son and stopped walking. “Look son, you have a lot to learn. Please believe I wanted to put a hole in his head right then and there. However, would that be smart? His bodyguard was about ten feet behind us . . . strapped. Plus, we’re at our home. Your mother is in the house. Let me drop you some knowledge, Shai: bad boys move in silence,” Baron said as he gave his son his infamous smile. “Now take a look over there.” Baron looked back towards the pool where Bonzi was on the ground going into convulsions. Bonzi’s bodyguard dropped to his knees and tried to grasp what was going on. Foam began to spill out of Bonzi’s mouth as he shook violently. A’shai couldn’t believe his eyes. He watched as Winston smoothly walked over while pulling a gun with a silencer attached to the tip. Winston walked behind the kneeling bodyguard and swiftly dropped two bullets in the back of the bodyguard’s head.

“What Bonzi just drank is a special brew called Black Tea, a creole tea that can kill you slowly if sipped. In Bonzi’s case, he drank enough to kill an army. I wanted him to suffer for talking to me like that. Like I said, bad boys move in silence,” Baron repeated as he patted A’shai’s back and turned him around towards the house. “Now let’s go grab some lunch,” he said smoothly. At that moment, A’shai realized that Baron didn’t concede to Bonzi. He just outsmarted him. Baron handled the situation like a true gangster and he had just taught A’shai a lesson in the streets. That’s why he admired Baron; he handled his street affairs just like he would a legit business deal: professional and with class. As they approached the door Baron added, “Guess I’m going to call up my old friend, Samad. Looks like we need a new coke connect.”

* * *

A’shai tossed his car keys on top of the counter and began to pull off his blazer. He inherited his sense of style from Baron. Although, he was a street nigga he dressed as if he was a Wall Street banker, wearing top of the line Italian threads. A .45 pistol rested in his holster on his belt buckle. He had grown to be a strategic, intelligent young man. Baron and Willow groomed him for success and home schooled him until he was in ninth grade. At first it was rough for him to adjust because he had no previous schooling, but with Willow’s persistence and patience he had caught up to other kids his age just in time for high school. He walked into his plush living room and stopped at the picture that sat on his end table. It was a photo of Baron, Willow, and him just shortly after they took him in. He smiled as he remembered that time so vividly. He knew that if it had not been for them, he would have been dead or in a dormant situation. He then noticed the scar on his face and then he began to think back on how he got the blemish.

“I hope you okay out there, Liberty,” A’shai whispered to himself as he thought about his childhood friend. Frequently he would think about her and the more he did, the guiltier he felt. He had come from the same place as her, but he got lucky and met Baron and Willow. The fact that he didn’t know where she was or how she was doing ate him up inside. Just as he finished his thought, he heard a noise coming from the back room. He quickly reached for his pistol and clicked off the safety. The first thought that crossed his mind was Bonzi.