Chapter 28
No one is happy to see me as I emerge from the crowd of sick junkies looking to get sicker. That much is clear by the mug Curry greets me with as I climb the steps of the trap house. Simon barely glances at me while he interacts with one dope fiend after another. Calvin sits close by, on the banister but this time, he's puffing on a black and mild. He's the only one that regards me with nonchalance.
Sensing the vibe from all of them, I head straight for the door. I'm not here to make amends with any of them anyway. I did what I did to protect Simon and I'm not apologizing to anybody, including him. So, when he excuses himself from the porch, handing off some bags to Calvin to sell in his absence, I continue walking into the trap house. Not that I get very far, cause the screen door creaks open before I can make it to the kitchen.
"Candyce!" Simon yells.
I roll my eyes. I'm not for his shit today or anyone else's. I just wanna' stay around long enough to run interference with Daz. It's Saturday, so it's weekly pickup and drop-off day for cokerunners. I'm not sure where we fall on his route so I got here early just in case. It's a quarter past 9 and already, Simon is approaching me with anger practically seeping off of him.
"What type of shit you on, Candyce?!" He yells.
"What are you talking about, Simon?" I ask.
He stops a few feet away from me.
"You know what the fuck I'm talking about. I know you only see three of us out there right now. What did you do with Neco and Maj?" He demands.
"I haven't been here in days, what--"
"Stop it, Candy. I know you know wassup. You catch me leaving the house at 5 in the morning and next thing I know, Caesar sending word through Calvin that they all gotta hit the block. Neco, Maj, Curry and Cal."
I sigh. So this what Simon's been banging on my bedroom door wanting to talk about. I figured as much. But he stopped knocking three days ago, so I naively hoped he'd gotten over it. I can see by his demeanor that I was wrong. Simon being Simon, he was just letting that shit build up until there was no longer a door between us.
"If Caesar told them to leave then why are they still here?" I ask.
"Why you think? I can't sell and watch my own back. I asked Cal to stay and he asked Curry to stay. You ain't been here in a while but it's getting crazy out there. These people want they fix rain, sleet or snow. I can't keep them at bay by myself. That's why I need them. So why you getting in between that?" Simon says.
"You just said Caesar gave the order, so why you harassing me?" I ask.
Simon smacks his teeth, "You know damn well yo errand boy ain't making moves without yo permission."
I sigh, too tired to keep up the facade that Caesar acted alone. I did what I did 'cause I knew it was right. Now, it's time to stand by that.
"Alright so yeah, I told Caesar I was gonna replace his corner boys with someone more experienced. With someone I know is gonna' watch out for you. But I didn't need him to do it; I was gonna do it myself," I say.
Si shakes his head with a cryptic smile on his face.
"So that's what we doing, Twin?" Simon spits out bitterly, "We lying to each other now?"
I turn away from him, walking into the kitchen. I perch myself on one of the counter tops and Simon follows behind me like I knew he would.
"That lying shit ain't ever been us, Candy," He says.
I laugh.
"Really? Cause I seem to remember me lying to Ace almost always and you lying to Mama constantly," I say.
"But did I ever lie to you? I never went behind yo back and made some weak ass deal with Ace, acting like it was in yo best interest."
"Me either! Caesar isn't Ace."
"Close enough," He says.
We stare at each other. We're on two opposite sides of a carefully drawn line. I usually keep my shit, my secrets and all my fuck ups on my side and Simon keeps his over there. We stand close enough to let each other see, but never comfortable enough to cross that line. I didn't intentionally do it this time, it just so happens that some shit spilled over while trying to look out for him.
Just like some shit spilled over onto my side when Ace was looking out for me.
I can't explain that to Simon right now 'cause he's never had to look out for someone other than himself. I'm content being the bad guy right now if it means keeping my brother safe.
The screen door opens in the distance. I hear footsteps sounding towards us. I can't see who it is from where I'm sitting, but Simon turns his head in that direction. I'm more than surprised when I see Cam's light-toned hand dap up Simon, then embrace him in a manly hug. As if they've known each other for awhile.
My eyebrows furrow together. Am I really seeing Simon act buddy-buddy with one of Ace's men? But not just any man. Ace's right hand man, or at least he was, before Caesar came in the picture.
Cam walks further into the kitchen and sees me sitting near the stove.
"Oh, wassam, Candyce. I ain't even see you there," He says.
His voice comes out a little wheezy and it's probably due to the gauze tapped across his nose. There's a purplish bruise under his right eye too. Caesar really did damage that night at the club.
"How you feel?" I ask, patting the tip of my nose.
His hand instinctively goes to his nose. He touches it slightly, wincing as he pulls his hand back.
"I'm good. The Doc put a splint in it. If ion have no major incidents, I should be alright," He says.
"Good. We need your pretty face to close those business deals right?" I ask.
Cam smirks at me. Simon rolls his eyes.
"We can talk back here," Si says, directing Cam to the hallway leading to the bathroom.
I hop down from the counter, assuming Si and I's conversation is done for now. I walk back to the front of the house, bypassing the girls hard at work in the cook shop. Their gaze is intense as they cook everything down on hot plates. As hard as they're working, there's just not enough of them to keep up the supply and demand from the customers outside. There should be more girls working to keep up production.
Another problem Calvin ain't equipped to handle.
I walk past them and push the screen door open. Soon as Curry sees me, he turns around and shakes his head.
"Don't mind him. He just mad he lost Larry and Moe," Calvin says from the right of me.
I walk over to him, leaning against the porch banister. I can see Cam's white BMW parked across the street.
"And how you feeling about the new adjustment?" I ask.
Calvin shrugs, releasing smoke from his nostrils. He hands off dope to a few people before he answers.
"I don't know if you familiar with the ladder to success, but I'm guessing you not since you or Simon didn't have to climb it. But in Ace's organization, corner boys don't move from selling on the block to being the head of a trap. We don't take leaps that big without doing something impressive. And we damn sure don't get demoted for nothing," Calvin says.
I watch as he smokes. His calm demeanor when both Simon and Curry wanted to rip my head off is commendable.
I understand his frustration all the same though. Calvin managed to become a trapper in his own neighborhood. From a hood perspective, I know it's something to be proud of. Just like I know it's gonna' be a tough pill to swallow when he goes back to being just another corner boy. But he's only known for being that-- a corner boy--, meaning despite how much he wants it, he just isn't qualified for this job.
"It's nothing personal. I just want the best for Simon," I say.
Calvin places the black and mild on the side of his mouth as he serves another fiend.
"You don't see me mugging you, do you?" He says.
I turn my attention back to the car parked across the street.
"So wassup with him and Cam?" I ask.
"I don't know. He come around every now and then. Ever since Caesar beat the fuck out of him," Calvin laughs.
"Simon ever tell you why he come around?" I ask.
Calvin shakes his head.
"All he said was he drove Cam to the hospital that night. I guess the lil nigga saw the value in having a hothead as a friend and saw an opening with your brother. He might need the protection if Caesar come at him again," Calvin says.
"I guess," Is all I say.
I don't know why Cam suddenly took an interest in Simon but I'm not gonna pry into it either. Simon could use a few friends in this circle. And who knows? Maybe Cam can get him to ease up off Ace since defending Ace is what got his face cracked open in the first place.
"Say, love. I'm almost out. Can you hand me some right quick?" Calvin asks.
"Yeah."
I peel away from the banister and go back inside the house. There's twenty or so bags near the girls' station so I start to fill my hand up with them. I look up when I hear two sets of footsteps walking towards us.
Simon comes into view with Cam close by. Simon's face is unreadable as him and Cam dap off again.
"See you around, Candyce," Cam says to me.
I wave goodbye. Cam pushes the door open at the same time I hear a car door close. I look up to see Daz making his way to the trap with two black duffel bags in hand. One hangs from his fingertips, clearly empty and the other is slung over his back as he approaches the yard. Him and Cam dap up and exchange a few words. Daz nods his head at Cam's nose and Cam touches it again. He winces before recounting what I'm sure is a watered down version of events.
"Boss Lady, I need that work," Calvin says from the porch.
I start to fill my hand up again but Simon grabs what I have. I watch as he stuffs some in his underwear and more in his pocket. Then he brushes past me and heads back out the door. Calvin hands the leftover drugs to Simon in just enough time to dap Daz off, who's now walking up the steps. Daz daps Simon off too. He reaches to dap Curry off but his immature ass refuses. I can't believe he's seriously acting like somebody took his favorite toy away.
Daz runs a hand over Curry's head like the child he's acting like, then moves up the steps before Curry can retaliate. The door opens and I hear Curry whispering threats under his breath.
"Woah, what it do, Candyce?" Daz says, with a wide grin on his face.
"Hey, Daz," I say, going over to give him a side hug.
I follow him into the kitchen, where he sits the bags on the counter. He unzips the one that was slung across his back and starts taking keys of cocaine out.
"What you doing here?" Daz asks.
"I was actually waiting for you," I say.
Daz stops unloading the white powder wrapped in saran wrap. The smile on his face evens into a thin line.
"You good?" He asks.
I nod my head.
"Well what can I do for you?" He asks.
"I need to get in touch with Tory and Munch. I haven't seen them since Club Legacy and I wanna run something by them," I say.
Daz turns an eyebrow up at me.
We eye each other as he kneels on the floor near the sink. He opens the bottom cabinet, and feels around inside before pulling out a large Ziploc bag folded over twice. Stacks of money is protected inside.
"It's payday?" I ask.
"Nah. Not yet. Cam gotta run it through the books at the car wash and the clothing store first."
"What clothing store?" I ask.
"The one yo brother owns down on Broad Street. It's like a mens clothing store but they sell women's shoes too," Daz says.
"Y'all was using a clothing store this whole time and Caesar made me work at that hot ass car wash this summer?" I ask.
Daz laughs, "I guess he wasn't feeling yo connection to Reese."
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. Caesar can be so damn petty. He had the nerve to be mad that I was fucking with Reese when all along, Keyana might have been pregnant.
"Yeah, well fuck him," I say, "And you can tell him I said it."
Daz's eyebrows furrow together.
"He told me you told him about what happened with Connor," I clarify.
Daz smacks his teeth, going back to unload the dope.
"Ain't nobody went running back to Caesar like you think. We was talking and your name came up."
"How?" I ask.
I'm not mad at Daz for telling Caesar what happened. I just gotta feel him out to see if I can trust him. Now that I'm on the outs with Caesar, I don't want my business getting back to him through the grapevine. If I can sell Munch and Tory on this offer, I know I won't have anything to worry about with them. They hate Caesar almost as much as I do right now. But Daz is somebody I gotta keep a close eye on cause of his connection with Munch, Tory and Caesar.
Daz sighs.
"We was chopping it up one day and he told me he had a kid on the way. I asked him when he found out and he said that night at Club Legacy. He said he went there to celebrate. I didn't even know he was there so we got to talking about how packed and crazy it was. He said he ran into you and I told him about our lil run-in with the white boy," Daz says.
I'm visibly tense when he's done filling in the blanks for me. So that night Caesar ran up on me in the bathroom... he had just found out Keyana was having his baby. He had the nerve to be all in my fucking face and not mention it.
This is exactly why I needed to put space between us. All his lies and bullshit was weighing heavily on my conscious. He could have told me that night. I still would have taken it hard but I was with Reese. It wouldn't have mattered if he had a baby with his girlfriend at the time 'cause I was with somebody else too. But instead, he dodged my question when I asked what he was doing there that night when he could have been honest.
"You straight, big dawg?" Daz asks.
It's then that I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. I sigh, wiping them away with the back of my hand. I spent three days in my room crying away all my tears, or so I thought. I got out of the house to focus on business today. So I hastily pull myself together in front of Daz.
"If I would've known telling Caesar was gon cause all this, I woulda kept the shit to myself," Daz says.
I chuckle at him misreading the situation. I'm grateful for it too. The less people that know about Caesar and I, the less stupid I feel.
"Nah, it's okay, Daz. You good. Can you get me in touch with them though?" I ask.
"Who? Munch and Tory?"
I nod my head.
"I mean, yeah, I guess. But I can't pass on they info without them saying it's okay. Especially not Tory," Daz says.
"No, I get it. When can you reach out to them?" I ask.
"It ain't nothing but a phone call. I tried to hit up Munch today but he ain't answer," Daz says.
Shit. I could've really used that distraction today.
Daz notices my slump in posture.
"Look, I only got a few more traps to collect from and then I gotta swing by The Loft to drop it off to Cam. Munch should've hit me back by then. I can prolly give you a ride to his place if he say it's okay," He says.
"Yeah, that'll work," I say.
"Cool, cool. Let me chop it up with Calvin right quick and then we can go."
I nod my head, excusing myself to the bathroom. I squeeze my way through the narrow walkway and into the bathroom. If you could even call it that. It's a tiny room that seems more like an afterthought than an actual place to wash up. It's armored with a noisy toilet in one corner and a sink right next to it. The entire room is done up in aquamarine tile as a way of masking the shabby job. Even that's half done, though. Only thing I find solace in is myself as I stare into the mirror above the sink.
I hate that I notice all my flaws in a way I never would have if Caese didn't break my heart...again.
Tears threaten to fall but a knock on the door keeps them from falling. I straighten up. I open the bathroom door to see my other reflection staring back at me.
"Daz is ready to go," He says.
I don't answer as I push past him. He grabs my arm as I'm walking away.
"You okay?" He asks.
I stare back into his concerned eyes. I don't blink away the tears in my eye or fix the scowl on my face.
"Yeah."
He doesn't let up his hold on me. I give him a bored look, waiting for him to release me.
"I guess lying really is for us now," He says.
I yank my arm away from him.
"I guess so."
...
"Look at you dressed like you ready for combat. I see you, lil Everdeen," Munch says.
I hate that I instantly break into a smile at his corny ass remark. I glance down at my black jeans, black long-sleeved thermal with a fur vest on top. I also have on combat-boot heels so it's easy to see where his joke stems from.
"And what that makes you? Haymitch drunk ass?" I ask.
"You forgetting that Tory was the one tryna get you drunk, not me," Munch says, moving aside so we can step in.
"Yeah 'cause we all know you don't like to share," Daz says.
Daz laughs while Munch gives him the finger. They dap each other up.
"So what y'all doing together? Y'all gotta 'nother bet going I don't know about?" Munch says, eyeing us over.
Daz stifles a laugh.
"And that's my cue to go. Candyce, I'll be back later to pick you up if shit don't go as planned with Tory," Daz says.
"Tory?" Munch says at the same time that I thank Daz.
Daz leaves out and pulls the door closed behind him.
"Who that is, Walter?!"
I turn my head towards the steps where an older lady's voice just sounded.
"Nobody. Go yo nosy ass back to sleep, Ma!" Munch says.
The voice disappears and soon after, I hear slippers sliding away from the staircase.
I raise an eyebrow at Munch.
"You like 30 still living with yo mama, Walter?" I ask.
"She stay with me and she can't see worth shit but she can hear every fucking thing," Munch rolls his eyes, "Come in the living room to talk. She can't hear none over the TV."
I follow behind him as he navigates us through to the living room.
"And I'm 24, not 30 but I don't play with children either," He adds over his shoulder.
I roll my eyes as we come up on a beige sofa set wrapped in plastic.
I can't help but laugh.
Munch smacks his teeth, "I knew you was gon say something. But I don't give a fuck. She can make a mean bread pudding so I let her do her thing."
"I thought you said she was blind?" I ask.
"No, I said she can barely see. But as long as she can read the dial on the oven, she can do whatever she want in this bitch," Munch says, taking a seat on the sofa.
I sit down next to him, balancing my elbows on my knees. He turns the TV on as promised, blasting the living room with surround sound. He uses the remote to turn it down a few notches, but it's still loud enough to drown us out.
"So wassup, Kid Sister? What you want with me?" He asks.
I look him over. He's dressed in a grey T-shirt that's gotta be a size too small and navy blue sweatpants. The Adidas slides on his feet slump under his weight but he looks as comfortable as ever taking up more than half of the sofa.
"I started a trap house with Simon," I blurt out.
Munch's face remains calm.
"I heard," He says.
"Caesar was sort of helping me out with that but I don't like his idea of help. He recruited a bunch of corner boys to play as mentor and security but some shit went down and I don't like the way they handled it," I say.
I look over at Munch waiting for some input but he doesn't say anything. I thought saying Caesar's name would make him show me to the door but since it doesn't, I continue.
"Not only that, but Caesar still got them working on the corner. So every now and then, when the block slow up, they open the trap and try to make back what they couldn't on the block. It's like they using him and ion like that. That's not what I brought him in for," I say.
"So what did you bring him in for?" Munch asks.
I lean back into the sofa, sighing.
"I guess to help out. We gotta make money somehow while Ace is gone."
"If you needed money, why you ain't just say that. I got some shit in the stash right now that can hold you over 'til Ace come back," Munch says.
I falter, trying to see if he's serious. For once, he's not playing.
"Why would you do that?" I ask him.
"Cause you Ace's lil sister. How I'm supposed to look bruh in his face when he come home, knowing I ain't help out when I had the chance? Matter fact, I shoulda looked out for y'all at the funeral. I gave my condolences but that's not enough. I got you, just give me a second," Munch says, moving to get up.
"Wait!"
Munch looks back at me.
"I don't need a handout," I tell him.
"Then what you need?" He asks.
"Your expertise."
Munch squints his eyes, trying to read between the lines. When he finally solves the riddle, he vehemently shakes his head back and forth.
"Hell no!" He yells.
"Why the fuck not?!"
"Didn't you just hear what I said? I can't do right by Ace and help you at the trap."
"What? Why not? Caesar did it," I argue.
"You not hearing me. A real friend wouldn't bring his potna's sister into this life, knowing he tried to keep her out of it," Munch says.
My face twists up. I'm so tired of people acting like Ace didn't casually walk me into The Loft and therefore into his organization. Ace forced me into the car that day I landed on Angel's doorstep. Nobody else. He was doing what he thought was best for me, but in turn, put me into a life I wasn't ready for. At least, I wasn't ready back then. But over these last two months, I been working my ass off trying to provide for the family he left behind. I'm tired of hearing that "Ace didn't want this for you" bullshit. I'm sure Daddy didn't want this for Ace either, but your wishes don't get upheld when you choose to leave the family you were supposed to protect.
"Munch, don't tell me what Ace would do cause Ace ain't here, alright? I don't want a fucking loan. I don't like handouts and Simon don't either. If you wanna help me, come work for me. You don't know Simon like I do, okay? Bad enough I'm trying to replace his guys. If I accept yo offer and call it all off... he'd never forgive me. Worse yet, he'd probably go back to selling for somebody else. I don't know who he used to work for, but I didn't trust them then and I don't trust them now. But I'm trusting you. You're loyal to Ace. So help me clean up the mess he made. Please," I say.
Munch rubs his hand down his face. It worries me that even after all that, he's still shaking his head.
"Ace would kill me if he knew I helped drag you further into the game," He says.
"He'd kill you foreal if he knew you sat by and watched his family get kicked to the curb. Ace knows how stubborn I am. He won't blame me for refusing your help. He'd blame you for not doing all you can to stop that from happening."
Munch strokes his beard, staring at the floor.
"What about Caesar?" He asks.
I swear, I could almost breathe a sigh of relief that we were moving in a new direction.
"He's out. I haven't talked to him in days and I don't plan on doing so."
Munch strokes his beard some more. I can talk his ear off about why he should help me but this could go either way. Munch made it clear he didn't work for anybody but Ace. That's real loyalty. So he can do what he thinks Ace would do, or he can do what's best. I only hope he sees that the two aren't one in the same.
Munch finally locks eyes with me.
"You sure you don't want the money?" He asks.
"Munch..."
"Aight, aight. Fuck it. I'll work for you until Ace comes back. But this trap queen shit is over when he do, you feel me?" He says.
I smile, "I hear you, Walter."
...
Getting in touch with Tory is exactly what I expected it would be: lowkey, at night, and suspicious as hell.
Munch went ahead and brought Tory up to speed since Daz got caught up with his kid. Instead of having me meet him at Munch's like any sane person would have, Tory instructed Munch to wait until nightfall to bring me to him. I almost called the whole thing off 'cause of how extra he was being, but I knew his job as a hitman has earned him a lot of enemies. Who knows who's waiting in the cut for him to slip up? His cautiousness is probably what's kept him alive this long.
Munch's Chevy Silverado pickup truck rolls to a stop at the stop sign. His truck's headlights are the only signs of life out here. Up ahead, there's two roads, one leading left and one leading right. There's a metal fencing with wild weeds growing behind it and a "Dead End" sign entangled in it.
We're quiet as we listen to Munch's turn signal methodically ticking away. Rap was pouring from the speakers earlier. Now the music is low and Munch is on full alert with his gun sitting in his lap.
"You sure this where he said to meet?" I ask.
Munch doesn't take his eyes away from our surroundings.
"Yeah, this the pin he dropped me. Don't trip. His paranoid ass do shit like this all the time," He says.
Sure enough, a black Tahoe pulls up next to Munch's window. I hold my breath, remembering the brown arm that held out a semi-automatic and almost blasted me, Ace and Caesar to pieces.
Munch raises his window down, clutching his gun harder. The Tahoe next to us is matte black with tinted windows. So there's no way of knowing if it's actually Tory until he rolls the window down.
The window eerily slides down to reveal him in the driver's seat with a black T-shirt on and a black bandanna tied around his forehead. His dreads fall over it, shielding his eyes. There's a blunt in his hand, so he takes a puff of it, before exhaling it out of the side of his mouth.
"We doing this or what?" He asks.
I undo my seat belt and say goodbye to Munch. He promises he'll see me at the trap first thing tomorrow with his Sunday best on. I smile as he pulls off. I pull the door open to Tory's truck and slide into the passenger seat.
"Now look what we have here," He says as I close the door behind me.
"I guess you took me up on that offer," He says, handing me the blunt so he can steer the car onto the side of the road.
"What offer?" I ask.
"At the club when I said you should have niggas ready to ride for you," He says.
I ash the end of the blunt out before bringing it to my lips.
"I didn't know you were offering," I say.
"I fucks with you Candyce," Tory says, "You match my fly and shit," He nods to my all-black outfit.
I laugh, choking on smoke in the process. I ash the blunt then hand it back to him.
"What's with the all black anyway? Caesar sent you to take me out?"
"Yeah. That's why I'm sitting here getting high with you in the middle of fucking nowhere," I say.
"It's wild you hit me up 'cause you been on my mind. My days been boring as hell since that night in the club. Not fucking with Caesar really put me out commission," He says.
"I wish I could say the same. I ain't think of you until yesterday and my life damn sure ain't been boring," I say.
Tory laughs, "Damn, it's like that huh?"
He takes a pull then passes it to me.
"You ever get tired of this shit, Tory?" I surprise myself by asking.
"Tired of what?"
"This life? The drugs? The bodies? The drama of it all?" I ask.
Tory reaches into his cup holder, pulling out a pack of Black Sweets cigars and a seventh of weed. I try to hand the blunt back to him but he declines.
"Hold on to that. It sound like you might need it," He says.
I continue smoking while he rolls two more blunts. Eventually my brain gets foggy and my eyes get low. I don't feel much of anything but I keep blowing while I wait for Tory to answer my question.
Once he's sparked up, his voice fills the quietness of the car.
"You been killing people, Candyce?" He asks, seriously.
Then again, everything sounds serious coming from Tory. Even his jokes; that's what makes him so funny.
I laugh, "Not unless Connor counts."
"So you heard about that?"
I nod my head.
"Yeah, Caesar told me. He thought it might interfere with me letting Simon sell," I say.
Tory looks over at me, "Did it?"
I shake my head.
"But it should've," I say.
Tory doesn't respond. We smoke our personals in silence.
I'm in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of the night, with a stranger I've only met twice. And somehow, I feel completely comfortable next to him.
"I watched my brother kill someone."
Tory glances at me from the corner of his eye.
"Well, actually I watched both of my brothers kill someone. I couldn't stop either 'em," I say.
"Simon?" Tory asks.
I nod my head slowly.
"At the trap. A dopehead was talking crazy, getting aggressive with him. Simon threw him off the porch."
"Damn," Tory says.
"His friend told me Simon should probably be a hitter. What you think?" I ask.
Tory chuckles, "You mean from one hitman to another?"
I laugh too, realizing how loaded I must sound.
It gets quiet again. I let the week's event muddle my thoughts as I close my eyes. I think about Simon, and how drastically different our relationship is. We're closer than we ever were before but that's only 'cause we run in the same circles now. Maybe it's cause of all the shit going on with Caesar, but something felt so off between me and Si today. We're usually able to agree to disagree but I'm so tired of fighting with him, of fighting period. I don't wanna argue anymore. Not with Caesar, not with Simon, not with my conscious, not with...
"I caught my first body when I was nine," Tory says.
My eyes pop open. I turn my attention to him with my eyes wider than they should be. My head sinks into the headrest as I wait for my lips to talk.
"Who'd you kill?" I ask.
Tory stares straight ahead.
"My mama."
I think any answer would have floored me. But this one nearly scares me sober.
That's what you get for smoking with a hitman.
I got no interest in arguing with the little voice in the back of my head. So I tune her out and focus on Tory.
"What the fuck happened?" I ask.
"I spent two weeks locked in the closet with no food. She was mad at my brother but his dad wouldn't let her touch him so she took it out on me. She tried to put me back in there but I wasn't having it. I knew where he kept his gun so I ran to it. I told her to stop, she didn't so I shot her."
"How did you feel?" I ask.
Tory looks at me.
"Free," He says.
"What happened after that?" I ask.
"They threatened me with juvenile life but I had enough witnesses to attest to the shit she used to do to me. They sentenced me to therapy and let me out of juvie a few weeks later. I went to therapy but the damage was already done. I been doing what I do ever since," Tory says.
"And your brother?"
Tory smirks, "We don't talk anymore."
"Damn," I say.
The car grows silent as Tory continues to smoke. I put mine out it in the ash tray. My brain is too scattered to think of anything to say.
"I don't think Simon is cut out to be a hitter," Tory says.
I look over at him.
"Why not?"
"'Cause you gotta be a special kind of fucked up to do what I do. Something rooted in you has to be snapped. It's not something a first body or a dead brother can snap outta place," Tory says.
I sit on that for awhile.
"Something died in me in that closet. Something I can't ever get back. I don't know what it is, but I'll be sure to ask my maker when it's that time. Until then, I keep my head down and do what needs to be done. Trust me. Simon ain't no killer, Candyce," Tory says.
I sit up, remembering why I got in the car with him in the first place.
"I don't think he's a killer either. That's why I need you," I say.
Tory waits for me to continue.
"I'm not naive enough to think Simon won't have enemies. Simon's new to this. People are gonna try him, whether it's another dope head or whoever. But I think something in Simon might be broken too. Something in his DNA. I don't want to lose him and I don't want him to kill anyone else because of that. I need you to keep the grim reaper off his back. I don't want what died in you to die in him. No offense," I say.
"I can respect that," Tory says, "And I uh, heard what happened at your club. You got people that want you dead too, huh?" He says.
Tory sits up and puts his seat belt on. I settle back into the seat, doing the same.
"Ain't nothing new. Just protect my brother. I'll be okay," I say.
"You got it, dude," He says, pulling away from the curb.