Relapse: A Novel (34 page)

York kept pumping Rayna, as discreetly as possible, for information on how the new couple’s relationship was progressing. It wasn’t too hard a task, because Rayna was jealous and always rubbed in York’s face all the elaborate things Lootchee did for Beijing.

York found out that Lootchee’s nose was as wide open as it
could be for a dude like him, plus Rayna told him about all these other rich people that Beijing befriended and associated with.

When he first devised the plan to kidnap Beijing for ransom, Rayna was feeling it. That’s why York sent the two young thugs to rob Rayna that night at the strip club, planting the seed in her that York owed some strong people money—big money!

After that incident it was easy for him to convince Rayna that all of their lives were in danger, including that of his and Rayna’s daughter, who was with her mother the majority of the time. She had to help with the plan to get the ruthless killers off their backs.

Scared, mostly for her innocent little girl and her mother, Rayna relented and agreed to help any way she could.

York rubbed his hands together like he was in front of the fireplace trying to warm them. He was thinking about all the cold cash he was about to put his hands on.

That’s when he got the call from Stash. Now he was just a little worried.

The small dirt path that wound its way from the main road was cushioned with pine needles, moist leaves, and several seasons of decayed foliage, muting the intrusive sound of footsteps in the cool ink-dark woods. It was mostly silent, except for the occasional owl making its presence known to any possible mates in its territory. The information that Rayna had given him, along with a few words that just came in hot off the press of the streets about a guy named Jake, gave him the location. Stash had been lying on the wet ground watching the house where Beijing was being held. He tightened his grip on the MP submachine gun, which was equipped with a screw-on sound suppressor.

He had no idea that a special tactical team was also watching the old blue house from a distance. They had been following Sterling all day. With his background they figured that he’d learn his daughter’s whereabouts and try to pull something crazy like this.
With a thermal-heat seeking device, they were able to discern how many people were in the dwelling and what part of the house they were in. Of the four people still inside, one had not moved from the center of the front area since the SWAT team took up watch. They concluded it must be the prisoner.

Stash could see the orange glow of fire at the end of what looked to be a blunt. As it was passed back and forth, the small torch revealed a dim glimpse of the careless smokers.

One of the men was Roy; Stash had never seen the other before tonight.

Stash stealthily moved within ten feet of Roy and the man he was with. He could hear them talking.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on that money,” Roy said under his breath.

“I know that nigga Lootchee is as rich as goat’s milk,” the other replied. “But you think he will hand over ten million for a bitch?”

Roy looked like he was thinking the question over. “Hard to say,” he murmured. “Love’s a muthafucka.”

“Yeah,” the other man countered, “but that nigga don’t love nobody but himself.”

Roy was about to open his mouth to respond when three slugs slammed into his chest. The impact lifted his feet eight inches from the ground before dropping him flat on his back, dead. The assault rifle he’d been holding lay by his shoes.

Jake’s eyes bulged almost completely out of his oversized head. He wanted to scream but it was too late. Another trio of deadly hollow-point bullets from Stash’s silent killing machine stung Jake in the face and forehead, muffling his attempt to shout for help. Jake was dead on his feet for a second or two, and then tumbled to the ground like a fallen oak tree that had just been cut at the trunk.

Stash stepped over to the dead bodies, admiring his handiwork,
when he felt something hit him in the back. Turning around, he saw a man holding a gun, a mirthless smile on his face. Stash raised his weapon but was a little slow to the draw. Two shots went off. Stash fell to his knees clutching his stomach. The next shot from the Negotiator, Marquell’s, army-issued .45 put Stash on his back. He never got a shot in.

The cold barrel touching the back of his head ended any celebrations Marquell might have thought about.

“Sleep with the maggots,” Sterling barked before squeezing the trigger to his own silenced MP5, sorry he was too late to save his friend from his unfortunate fate.

But he did manage to succeed at what he was there to do, save his daughter.

The SWAT team commander immediately jumped on his walkie-talkie. “Shots fired,” he shouted. “Shots fired. We are going in now.”

Thirty seconds later the glass in most of the house windows turned into shards. York and the remaining two conspirators were not totally caught off guard. They’d snatched up their weapons after hearing the first shots.

They weren’t prepared for what happened next, though. The house went completely black: SWAT had cut the power. Three shadows appeared wearing night vision goggles and ended the madness with a single shot each.

York managed to dive on the floor, face-first, just in time to avoid the fate of his colleagues.

“I surrender,” he screamed at the top of his lungs, “I surrender.”

Two other members of the SWAT team had their eyes on the hostage the entire time. Her father untaped her and escorted her outside. Beijing was shaken but unharmed.

She sobbed in tears trying to pull herself together until she
saw Stash lying in a pool of blood. She was stunned; she could not believe her eyes. Immediately she remembered who he was, and looked as if she saw a ghost. “Oh my God.” She looked at him the way she had that unforgetful day when she was ten years old as all kinds of questions ran through her mind. Her thoughts were interrupted when her father came up to her and took her into his arms. Sterling said, “You owe thanks to this guy right here. Without his help …”

“Mike?” she gestured to the supine man she remembered.

“Yeah,” Sterling confirmed, “we also call him Stash.” Wow. Beijing was stunned, wishing that she could formally thank her angel for saving her for the second time. She had always wondered what she’d say to him if she ever saw him again, but now that she did, she feared that she might never get to say anything to him again.

Beijing returned to her father’s house and was surprised by all the people who had gathered to pray her home. She was most surprised by three guests who greeted her, Lootchee and his parents. Though she appreciated that his parents had put off their vacation to support their son, and felt good that Lootchee was prepared to go bankrupt for her, she was still tired. Tired of Lootchee’s games and bullshit. She turned to Lootchee, who had trailed Beijing and her father back to the house. “Lootchee, I’m done with your lies and your bullshit. It’s time for me to move on with my life and find someone who understands what a healthy relationship is.”

She walked out of Lootchee’s life that day and knew that she would take one day at a time. No matter what lures Lootchee sent her way, she’d wouldn’t relapse again.

Lootchee knew that Beijing was done, but he wasn’t. He was used to getting what he wanted, and this was no different. He followed Beijing over to the county hospital and waited until she left. Beijing had been visiting Stash for the past two weeks, and now it was time for Lootchee to pay him a visit.

“Good to finally meet you,” Lootchee said to Stash. “That was some real crazy shit you did in those woods. All joking aside … that was real admirable.”

“That’s what we do for those we love,” Stash said, eyeing Lootchee with suspicion.

Lootchee cut to the chase. “So, you trying to take my girl, huh?”

“Actually she was mine first,” Stash said, enjoying the fact that he was ruffling Lootchee’s feathers.

“Which means you know that she was my woman? And we’ve been through a lot and weathered a lot of storms together.”

Stash nodded. “She told me all about y’all’s time together. She also told me she was done with you. Besides ‘we’ have history.”

Lootchee raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“I knew her since she was a little girl. And who would have thought that fate would bring us back together again.”

Lootchee had heard of Stash. He knew he was a stand-up, respected guy, and no one ever had a bad word to say about him. Lootchee looked him dead in his eye and said, “If I heard of you, you must have heard of me.”

Stash nodded.

“Then you know this ain’t over, playboy, and may the best man win,” Lootchee said with a cunning smile as he walked out the door.

My loving children Kennisha and Timmond—I thank you both for all your understanding and for making me such a proud mother. My mom, I thank you for your unconditional love.

My dear Craig, I love you and no words could ever express how much I value you for loving me the way you do! My brothers: Damon Williams (always hustling in our squares—I truly get it), Tim Patterson and Curt Bone (you both should write books and drop some of that knowledge you got. I’d buy them one hundred times over), and Shaft Jones (Superman-the Superstar. LOL)! Though I may not be in touch everyday, I love and appreciate you all in your own ways.

To my girls who hold me down through all the ongoing madness in my life, all while pushing me to the finish line to beat the deadline. Jewel Sanchez, your name says it all; you are a gem! Natarkki, Mia Upshaw, Nikki Allen, Kia (I got on my slicker and galoshes), Rosetta (for making me breathe), and my dear little cousin, Faith aka Shay-Shay. Thanks for always hanging in there with me.

To my agent, Marc; Melody; Porscha; Jane; and all of the team
over at Random House/Ballantine for your undying support and assistance with making a conception into a birth.

To all the people in my past who have helped me to learn what addiction and relapses are all about. And most important to my readers; not one inkling of any of this would be possible without you! I love you all.

N
IKKI
T
URNER
is a gutsy, gifted, courageous new voice taking the urban literary community by storm. Having ascended from the “Princess” of Hip-Hop Lit to “Queen,” she is the bestselling author of the novels
Ghetto Superstar, Black Widow, Forever a Hustler’s Wife, Riding Dirty on I-95, The Glamorous Life, A Project Chick
, and
A Hustler’s Wife
, and the editor of and a contributing author in her Street Chronicles series. She is also the editor of the “Nikki Turner Presents” line, featuring novels from fresh voices in the urban literary scene. Visit her website at nikkiturner.com, or write her at PO Box 28694, Richmond, VA 23228.