URBAN: In Love with A Boss Nigga (31 page)

“Come on.” She swayed her way to the bedroom. “Let’s finish this right.”

“You want me to do all the work, don’t you?” He climbed on the bed right after her.

“Only if you think you can handle it.” She giggled. He chuckled and was right on top of her.

“I know I can.”

They started all over again. She wrapped her legs around him again and he went at her without mercy. He didn’t hold back at all. When he leaned back to look at her, she took his hand and placed it on her neck. He grinned and squeezed slightly. She shook her head, indicating that she wanted him to squeeze even tighter. He did and she moaned. Her body moved like a snake beneath him and he held on to her. Every time he pumped into her, he squeezed. It wasn’t long before she gave in to the pleasure. He smirked and kept going quickly until he came as well.

She held him and told him to put on the alarm. He tried to but every time he pressed the button it started buzzing. It was a weird buzz though. It wasn’t the regular buzzing of an alarm clock but it sounded like his doorbell.

“What’s that?” He asked as he looked towards her front door. He tried to shake her, but she wasn’t there anymore. He looked all around the bedroom, but it began to fade away.

The sound of the doorbell buzzing brought him out of his dream. It felt so real that he really thought that he was home. He’d forgotten that after he bumped into Tasha, he just went home. He got up and the doorbell was still buzzing. He went towards his intercom.

“Who is it?” He asked.

“Leo, it’s Antwon.” Antwon introduced himself. Lionel buzzed to let him in.

“What’s up?” Lionel opened his apartment door before Antwon could even knock on it. “Don’t you have a key or something?” He asked him. Antwon didn’t answer at first. Lionel looked at his friend. He wasn’t looking as frail as before, but he didn’t look like his old self either. “What’s going on?”

“I got something to tell you.” Antwon sat on the couch. “But before I do, can I ask you a quick question?”

“Sure.” Lionel leaned on the wall opposite of his friend. “What is it?”

“You still putting money in your mother’s bank account?”

“Yeah, but where is that coming from?”

“It’s good that you putting the money in your mother’s account.”

“Okay?” Lionel was still confused. “You never answered my question though. Why did you ask me that?”

“I’ll answer that after I tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“You not going to be seeing me for a while.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m going to be gone.” Antwon gave him a small smile but Lionel could tell that whatever he was about to say had been weighing on him for a while.

Chapter 6

It was the night of the shooting. Antwon had just run up on Janine and her boyfriend Martin. As he held the gun to the back of his head, he could feel his anger grow. He was screaming words but all he could think about was revenge.

“Now, do you remember me motherfucker?” He screamed.

“I’m so sorry.” Janine cried from the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck is up with him?”

“This is the guy you shot from the club.” She told him.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah oh shit motherfuker.” Antwon gripped the gun. “What you got to say now?”

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Martin laughed.

“You bitch.” Antwon pulled the trigger.

The shots echoed throughout the street. Janine screamed loudly as she went to the body of her now dead boyfriend Martin. Half of his head was gone and she was covered in his blood.

“No, no no no.” She screamed again and again. She looked at Antwon. “You!” She pointed at him. “You!”

Antwon was in a trance, but he quickly snapped out of it. He realized that people were starting to run about. He didn’t even think to look for witnesses. He just wanted to get to Martin. As he put the gun away and ran in the street, he had to find a place to hide. He just kept running around the corner and as soon as he found a block that was empty, he walked to a quiet corner. He found an empty lot. He unloaded the gun and and buried it deep in the ground. He took the bullets and threw it in the trash can.

He sat on the ground and rocked back and forth. He kept replaying Martin’s body dropping to the ground. Antwon had fought people, beat them up to a pulp, but he never shot and killed someone before. He’s always used to say that if he had to kill someone it would be easy, but now that he actually did, it didn’t feel like that at all. The image of Martin’s body falling, the sound of it hitting the ground, and the blood. He couldn’t get over it.

Just then he looked down. His clothes had Martin’s blood all over it. He suddenly started to panic. He wiped his face in case there was any blood on it. He knew he couldn’t hide out if he was covered in blood. He had to change his clothes, and quickly. But how could he do it? He couldn't just walk in a store, soaked in blood, and just buy a whole new wardrobe. He started to hate himself. The more mishaps he spotted, the more he realized that he should have waited for Lionel. Lionel could at least talk him down or they could have done a better plan. Now that he was here covered in blood, he regretted his decision.

He started to think about what he could do. He looked across the street and spotted a clothes donation bin. People in the neighborhood would put their old and used clothes in the bin. He waited until the cars that were driving up and down the block disappeared. He ran across the street and stood on top of a milk crate. He opened the bin and felt around for clothes. The first item he pulled out were these tight yellow leggings. He threw it to the ground and went back to fishing for clothes. He pulled out some ratty old jeans. They were a bit too big for him, but he just threw it over his shoulders. He then found an old t-shirt and jacket. He went back to the lot.

Although it was a little cold outside, Antwon stripped down and changed clothes. He took his blood soaked clothes and threw them in the trashcan. He looked down at his brown Timberland boots and saw that there were splotches of blood on them. He took out his wallet and saw that he didn’t have much money on him. He hated himself again. Why didn’t he wait things out? Why couldn’t he at least prepare just a little bit?

He found a bargain store and found some dingy shoes. He didn’t want to buy them, but he did and quickly discarded of his shoes in the trash as well. He got on the train and just stayed on. Everyone was looking at him, but he couldn't tell if it was his paranoia or his outdated clothes that was bringing the attention. He just stayed on the train. He saw many passengers come and go. They left him alone because they thought he was homeless. Since the passengers let him be, after his fifth ride on the line, he fell asleep.

“Young man?” Someone poked him, but Antwon just groaned and rolled around.

“Young man!” They poked him harder and shouted. “You need to get off the train.” They told him again, but he just slowly opened his eyes. He started to wake up and when his eyes adjusted, he saw the bright lights. He turned and looked at the person who was poking him. When his eyes focused he saw that it was a police officer.

“I didn’t do it.” Antwon spilled out.

“Didn’t do what?” The cop squinted.

“Nothing.” Antwon nervously said.

He got off the train and saw that he was in the Bronx. He was about to get on the train that was on the other platform, but the cop was still staring at him. He was talking on his radio while looking at Antwon. The cop started walking towards Antwon. Antwon started walking slowly outside and when he hit the corner he ran. He bumped into a middle aged woman. He knocked down the items in her hand. He helped her picked them up and tried handing them to her. When he went to hand her the last item, he saw that she left.

“Bitch must have thought that I was trying to rob her.” He mumbled to himself. He looked at the last item and saw that it was a hair dye. He laughed but then a crazy thought came to his head. He thought that he should dye his hair. If someone saw him kill Martin, they would know how he looked like. If he could just change his looks, it would help him escape even longer.

He now had a new goal. He looked around. There was nothing but fast food places and small shopping stores. He went inside one of the fast food places. He tried to go in their bathroom, but the door was locked.

“May I please use your restroom?” He asked in his most polite voice. The worker behind the register looked him up and down.

“I’m sorry sir, but our restrooms are for customers only.” She told him rudely. “May I please help the next customer?”

“Miss, I asked you nicely. I just need to use the restroom because it’s an emergency. I could have been rude to you and cursed you out but I didn’t.” He felt himself get angry again. “So I’m going to ask you again and I won’t even be rude. Can I please use the fucking bathroom?”

At this time the whole fast food restaurant went silent. Everyone was staring at them. Antwon didn’t care. He just wanted to go inside and use the restroom. The sooner he dyed his hair, the better he thought to himself. The cashier thought about sticking to her original no, but when she saw how everyone was staring at them she backed down. She knew it was only a matter of time before people took out their cellphones and recorded the whole thing. She didn’t need that kind of headache in her life.

“Here you are.” She slid the key to him.

“Thank you.”

He walked to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He moved past the urinal and looked at himself in the mirror. He almost laughed. He looked homeless. He always took pride in how he looked and what he wore, so to see himself in these rags, it was strange. He splashed some cold water on his face and opened the package of hair dye. Out fell a pair of gloves and and paper instructions. He browsed through it quickly and then applied it to his hair.

Suddenly there was a sound of someone trying to open the door.

“Yo, someone is in here!” He yelled. He looked back at the directions. It suggested that the user applied some to the eyebrow hair to match. He shrugged his shoulders and did it. Once again, there was someone at the door. “I’m almost done.” He told them.

“Well there’s a line out here.” The female voice said. “This is the only bathroom in the place. You have to be considerate of other people. You are not the only person here that has to use the fucking bathroom.” She went on. Antwon tuned her out and when enough time passed, he rinsed out the hair dye. He took a paper towel and dried his head. He looked at the mess he left behind. Just as he was about to clean it up, the person knocked on the door again.

“Sir!”

He aggressively opened the door and threw the key at the impatient customer. She looked at him confused.

“Blame yourself for the fucking mess. If you had been more patient…” He didn’t finish his sentence; instead he left the restaurant. He got one block down before he called Lionel to pick him up.

After Lionel dropped him home. He turned on the TV to watch the news.

“Today there has been a shooting in front of Brooklyn’s adult entertainment club.” The news anchorman started the story of the shooting. They spoke of Janine and all the crimes that she confessed to, including the murder of the owner from the club she worked in earlier. Antwon shook his head as he saw the club where he was shot on the screen again. It brought back old memories. He started paying attention when he heard the newscaster say:

“Police are looking for an African-American male, believed to be in his mid twenties.” And that’s when Antwon’s paranoia went to overdrive

“What if they find me?” He thought and the crazy thoughts kept going and going. He tried to go to sleep but his thoughts kept racing. He started to drink but when he ran out of liquor, he needed something else to make him feel better. He went to his drug stash. He still had a bit left. He thought about taking some but he didn’t want to become one of those stereotypical drug dealers that took their own product. He always laughed at them. How did they ever expect to make money if they were stealing from themselves?

There was a knock at his apartment door. He rolled his eyes. He figured it was Lionel. He went to the peephole and saw a cop along with the detective that questioned him during his shooting. He could never forget that detective. The second he was out of surgery from his shooting, the detective was waiting for him. He kept asking Antwon questions, but since Antwon was raised to never trust the police, he told him nothing. To see the detective again, made him nervous.

“Yeah?” He yelled on the other side of his door to the officers.

“Antwon, sir? It’s Detective Ward along with Officer Stewart. We are here to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay! One second” He quickly ran and threw a hoodie and sweatpants on. He put the hood up and then opened the door. “I’m sorry for taking my time, I was asleep.” He lied. “What’s up?” He opened the door a bit.

“We’re just here to update you on your case.”

“My case?” Antwon was lost for a second but then he remembered. “What about it?”

“Would you like to invite us in?”

“I really don’t want anybody at my house right now. I don’t feel so well.”

“We’ll just be in and out.”

He let them in and sat on his couch.

“Well we have solved your case. We found the man that shot you.” Detective Ward leaned against the door.

“You did?” Antwon tried to look nonchalant. “That’s good.”

“It is, but he’s dead.”

“Wow. I’m not going to shed any tears though.”

“I can understand that, but I still have to bring you this news and then ask you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Where were you tonight?”

“I’ve been here all night.”

“Was anybody with you?” He asked.

“I was with my friend earlier but after that I was alone.”

“Okay.” The detective looked around. “Do you mind if we took a look around?”

“Not to be a dick, but do you have a warrant? I barely invited you in my house but I did, since you see nothing in plain sight, I do not give you permission to search my home.”

Antwon knew a thing or two about the law. He thought that the cop was there for one reason, to ask if he killed Martin. As soon as the cop started to look around the room, Antwon figured it out. He was either a suspect or a person of interest.

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