Chapter Two.
"If you're in the cross fire than you should expect to get hit." — Carla Baptiste.
June 28th, 2005
New Orleans, Louisiana
"A bullet don't have no name on it chile," Carla shook her head as the two watched the scene unfold before them.
Citrus took one look at her grandmother before sticking her fingers in her mouth. A disgusting habit she developed after the death of her mother. For some reason it numbed her and calmed her anxiety. Carla always tried to break her out of it, but it never seemed to work. Whenever, Citrus felt overwhelmed those fingers would reach right up and shimmer their way up into her mouth.
"Same way that fire don't care if it burns wood, pig fat or the flesh from your body. A knife don't have no preference either. If you're in the cross fire than you should expect to get hit. That poor lady had it coming," Carla pulled Citrus into her more before letting out a low sigh, "She shoulda' left that man alone when she had the chance."
Citrus was surprised all of this was flowing from her Grandmother's mouth. She was normally a quiet lady. She sat back and observed and kept to herself, she knew how to mind her business and when to speak on certain situations. But in this case, it was as if that mindset had dispersed into thin air. Carla was letting it all go without a care in the World. Maybe it was the old age getting to her.
"Put that damn gun down now! It's youts out dis' way," Carla let go of Citrus and slowly limped her way over to Dewayne and Modi.
"Grandma," Citrus sent her a pleading look which Carla only ignored.
"That ain't the first time that man done went on a rampage and beat her bloody!"
"You mind your old ass business bitch!" Dewayne snapped his neck in their direction before pointing the gun in Carla's vicinity.
"Listen here, if you point dat' damn gun at me you betta' be prepared ta' use it," Carla stepped closer. "You've been terrorizing Motrise since she was sixteen. You took her innocent soul and destroyed it Delroy. You needs to leave dat' girl lone and 'em babies and go on and leave."
Everything; Miss Carla Baptiste was speaking was nothing short of the truth. Dewayne had been harassing Modi for years, and when she finally gave him the time of day he wasted no time putting his stamp on her. Despite him being eight years her senior, nobody seemed to have a problem with it because that's just how things went around here.
People minded their business, especially when it came to Dewayne Vasquez.
However, Carla no longer cared. She had known Dewayne for over a decade. He literally used to take baths with her daughter; Noel. She watched the evil and selfish person he had grown to become over the years, and she was sick of it. This was a boy that her daughter once considered a bestfriend. Yet, the money and the fast life took over and changed him for the worst.
Carla could say the same for Noel. She was already pregnant by time Dewayne and Mortrise started dating. She got mixed up in the fast life too, which was promised because her baby father happened to be the notorious Simon "Deeds" Hayes.
Deeds was ruthless back in the day. He wasn't just your typical local drug dealer. That man ran shit. At only twenty-three going on twenty-four years old, he had almost all of Louisiana on lock. From the distribution of any and all top-notch weapons, to every single type of drug you could name. White, Crystal, Heroin, Kush, Opioids. He had it all!
He was feared by many and he had the looks to match it. Just one glance and you knew not to go there with him. Along with the looks came the crew and attire to match. Though he was feared, he was also respected and a female magnet. That being because in '95, almost every female in Louisiana had a kick for real dangerous men. It wouldn't repel them off bat, but simply peak their interest and attraction.
