Chapter 37
When we pull up to the trap, my attitude is worse than before. I'm praying Munch takes a hint and keeps any out-of-the-way comments to himself. If not, I'll probably spazz on him like I should have did earlier.
I climb out of Tory's truck and cross the street to the trap. Simon's sitting outside on the porch when I walk past. If he cared about why I looked so pissed, he didn't ask.
Not that I wanna hear his voice either. He's partially apart of the reason why I can't have what I want. 'Cause although I would never admit it to Tory for fear of it reaching Simon's ears in an argument, I have a stash hidden away for bail money in case he ever gets in a mood to smash cop cars again. He can tell me not to worry about him all day long. He's my brother and I'm gonna make sure he's straight even if it means sacrificing some things I want in the process. Even if it means not hearing so much as 'thanks' for all I do for him and our family.
I push through the front door. I avoid the kitchen altogether since 9 times out of ten, it's where Munch is. Instead, I head straight for the bathroom and lock myself inside.
I fucking hate the patched up work of the ceramic blue tile all around me. I hate that this is where I have to resort to as a hiding place.
I have my own room at home but the last place I wanna be is in the company of the very people I feel is holding me back.
"This is stupid, Candyce," I whisper.
Just yesterday, I was proud of myself for taking the reigns as the head bitch in charge. Now, I'm crying over a car I couldn't really afford anyway.
I sold myself a pretty dream. Now I'm blaming the very people who are the reason I can even think about buying something with that many zeros. If I hadn't had to step up and provide for my family, I never would have moved to selling drugs. If I never ventured down that path, maybe Caesar would have never felt the need to get me my own club.
All I know is, I feel like I'm working overtime to keep the fire from creeping up on our asses. It's to the point where I'm starting to feel like I'm sacrificing my wants, my mental health and my happiness so that my family can have theirs.
The sad truth is, I'll burn in a fire a thousand times if it means keeping my family out of harm's way. Knowing that doesn't make me feel heroic; it makes me feel stupid. So I call up the only person I think would understand.
The phone rings four times before Chantal answers.
"Telly's phone. The prettier sister speaking."
I laugh into the phone.
"Lori?" I ask.
"I told you I'm prettier. Even Candy thinks so," She says.
The next thing I hear is rustling in the background.
"Hello?" I ask.
"Yeah, girl. I called Lori ugly for playing in my makeup without permission and now she asking everybody we know who's cuter," Chantal says.
"For the record, I say it's her," I say.
"Thank you!" I hear in the background.
"Get out my damn conversation, ugly! Go play on your iPad before I take it from you," Chantal says.
I wait for her and Lori to finish their spat. After a minute of passing words with her sister, Chantal comes back on the phone.
"My bad, bitch. Lori in middle school now and she think she grown," She says.
"Bitch we thought we was grown at that age too," I say.
"Yeah but this new generation different. All they know is Youtube. What the fuck was she doing playing in my makeup anyway?"
"I don't know, sis. Thankfully ion have that problem with Paryis yet."
"Wait until she start seventh grade. You gon forget you ever liked her," Telly says.
I smile. Paryis is already a handful at times. I know she's gonna be lethal when her hormones actually kick in.
"But you didn't call to talk about my bratty ass sister so wassup?"
I pull in a deep breath to tell her about the car, and my family and Simon not talking to me but then, I just let it out. There's too much to unpack there. I feel like venting to her about this now will be like bringing her in, in the middle of a movie and asking her opinion.
Besides, I barely wanna talk about what's going on now. I definitely don't wanna catch her up to everything else I've left her out of.
"It's nothing. How are you and Tobias?" I ask.
"Me and Tobias are fine. The negro finally got his mind right so he's been over here like every day. Mama keep hinting that he can sleep over but I ain't ready for allat."
That's another thing about Chantal. My girl has been keeping that kitty on lock and key until the right guy comes along. I just hope this Tobias dude is the right guy cause I'd hate for her to lose her virginity to an asshole who up and leaves her for New York the next day.
Then again, bad things only happen to me.
"Take your time, Telly. You'll know when the time is right," I say.
"I know, Candy. You've been telling me the same thing since we were fifteen," Telly say.
"Cause the first time only happens once. Once your innocence is gone, you can't get that back."
Telly's end of the line is quiet for a moment.
"Candy, you okay?" She asks.
"Girl, I don't know."
I slide to the floor with my back against the door. I run my hands through my hair while I get my words together.
"How do you do it?" I ask.
"Well you know me. I never even let a nigga into my breathing room until he show he worthy."
"No, not that. I mean, how do you help your mom out and be there for Lori without feeling like you giving too much of yourself? 'Cause don't get me wrong; I love my family. I just..."
"It's hard," Chantal finishes for me.
"Yes," I say.
"I have my days too, Candy. Sometimes I'm too tired when I get off work to come home and play mommy and big sis to Lori. I hate having to share that role with my mama but I do it 'cause I have to. It be breaking me down sometimes but I'd rather me than them."
"Right," I say.
"At the end of the day, I know I can come back from not getting enough sleep 'cause I had to help Lori with some project while Mama's at work. Eventually she'll be old enough to take care of herself. And eventually Ace will come home to take the weight off yo shoulders," Chantal says.
"I hope so. 'Cause some days I feel like I shoulda ran off too."
Telly laughs.
"You say that now. Wait until he does come back. Y'all gon be fighting for that spot at the head of the table," She says.
"I doubt it. I know what it's like to have to think for everybody else. This responsibility is a burden. If Ace ever decides he wants the job back, I'll bend over backwards to give it to 'em."
Chantal's response is cut short by somebody knocking on the bathroom door. I tell her to hold on before hitting the mute button.
I stand up and brush off my pants. When I open the door, it's Tory.
"When you done crying about it, I got sum'n to show you," He says.
I press the mute button again. Telly's voice comes through clear as day calling my name.
"Let me call you back, Tell," I say.
"Aight, girl. Call me if you need me," She says.
She knew to say that 'cause we both know I won't be calling her back.
"Okay. You too," I say.
I click the line and finally step out of the bathroom. Tory looks at me with a smirk.
"What?" I ask.
"That was Telly from the club?" He asks.
I give him a look.
"That was Telly from Pandora's Box 'cause I will fuck you up if you even think about going after her," I say.
He holds his hands in surrender. I follow him into the living room where he stops to check his phone.
"What's with you and this phone? Yo face been in it all day," I say.
"I'ma busy man," Tory says.
I watch him as he steps to the window. He makes a gap in the crooked blinds wide enough to see out.
"What you looking for?" I ask.
"You know you ask a lot of questions," He says, walking to the front door.
"Not that you ever answer 'em," I say.
Tory pulls the front door open.
"That's 'cause I'd rather show you than tell you," He says.
He opens the door wider and waves me over. I walk over slowly wondering what the fuck this nigga had up his sleeve now.
I step into the doorway and see nothing at first. All I see is Munch standing on the porch and Simon sitting on the porch steps.
What the fuck is everybody waiting for?
Music traveling up the street keeps me from asking the question. It's a good thing too.
Cruising up the street is the front end of a candy apple red car. My car. At least, I can assume that it's mine since Daz is the culprit in the front seat.
I run out the door and down the steps while Daz parks the car onto the curb.
"Daz... What did you do?" I ask.
The smile is hesitant to appear on my face until I piece together what the fuck is going on.
He takes his time climbing out of the lowrider.
"You mean what did we do," Daz says.
He shuts the car door and nods towards the porch, where Tory is leaning with the same cocky smirk on his face and Munch is standing with his arms folded. Simon stares on but I could never really read his face.
"You mean..."
I turn around and Daz is dangling car keys in my face.
"It's yours," He says.
My eyes widen as I jump into his arms. He laughs in my ear as he hugs me back. By the time I let him go, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I turn around to attack the other two boys I know are responsible for this, but they're already walking towards us.
I jump on Tory first.
"Oh now she love me again. You see this shit, Munch?" He asks.
I look over at Munch. I stretch my hands out for a hug like he did earlier.
"Don't come over here with that fake shit. You don't fuck with me nomore remember?" Munch says.
I ignore him and curl up against him anyway.
Munch is a big softie so it doesn't take long for him to hug me back.
"Bet you glad I dragged yo ass out the house now," He says.
I step out of his embrace.
"Wait, this is why you got me to come out? So y'all can surprise me with a car?" I say.
"A nigga did a good deed and got yelled at for it," Munch says.
I open my mouth to defend myself but close it right away. I was a little out of line today. Coming at Munch as if he didn't agree to work for me as a favor. Even still, he didn't let that stop him from buying me a car.
I hug him again, simply 'cause I know he probably put up the most money. He was eager to give me money to hold us over until Ace came back. That showed me he'll spend whatever to make sure I'm straight out of loyalty to Ace.
This was done because of how much he fucks with me.
"You asked me why I been in my phone all day. I been checking in with Daz. He was at the lot when we pulled up," Tory says.
I look back at Daz.
"Foreal?" I ask.
Daz confirms by nodding his head.
"I didn't even see you!" I say.
Tory taps me on my head.
"That's cause you don't pay attention to yo surroundings," He says.
"I do pay attention!" I say.
"Can't be. How you let a nigga drag you out the city before you realize?" Daz says.
I open my mouth to object then close it back. They've gotta point.
"You can go ahead and delete that Lyft shit out ya phone. If you can't tell when you've been riding too long, you don't need to be riding passenger to nobody," Munch says.
"Then you got too many eyes on you to be hopping in and out of people's cars you don't know," Tory says.
I know he's hinting at my unfinished business with Angel. I kept that in mind every time I rode with someone, but without my own whip, there was nothing I could do but hope for the best.
Their scolding reminds me of what it was like to have Ace breathing down my neck. Back then, I woulda told Ace to go to hell for clocking my moves the way they're doing. That's when I could afford to be the bratty little sister. I've been through too much in the past months to see their intentions as anything other than them looking out for me.
It's funny, it took me gaining three brothers to understand what one was trying to teach me.
All I can say is it feels damn good to know other people are watching my back. Gifting me this car just gave me one less thing to worry about.
I dangle the car keys and let out an excited squeal.
"You gon take this bitch for a spin or what?" Munch asks.
"She rides smooth as a motherfucka," Daz says.
I look back to where he's leaning against the car. Then, I look at Simon sitting on the porch alone.
Since everything has turned around for me, I can't help applying that good faith to Simon too. I figure now's as good a time as any to extend an olive branch.
Simon doesn't look up at as I approach. I know he sees me since I'm casting a shadow over him where the sun just was. I set my pride aside anyway.
There's no harm in trying.
"You wanna take a ride with me?" I ask.
"No."
"You sure? I'll let you drive," I say.
"I'm good."
I try a different approach since this clearly ain't working.
"Well since I got this car, you don't have to depend on Cam for rides anymore. I can pick you up and drop you off or you can drive yourself. It'll be like ours."
Simon lifts his head to stare me in the eyes.
"I don't want shit from you, Candyce," He says.
I'm not even ready to talk about what that blow does to my heart.
"Since when am I the person you not want shit from?" I ask.
Simon stands up. He looks down at me since our fraternal genes blessed him with a more intimidating height.
"Since you started acting like Ace."
He doesn't offer up any other explanation. I guess he's said it all though, considering how he feels about Ace.
So much for him coming around.
I'm stuck in position watching him go inside the trap and slam the door.
"We doing this or not? I gotta house to run even if it means just babysitting ya boy," Munch says.
I dangle the keys and catch them in my hand.
"Yeah," I say.
I walk back over to them with my heart weighing a ton. Daz walks around the car to get to the passenger side. Tory doesn't bother with the back door, hopping over it instead. Munch makes him push over so he can climb in too.
I get in last. Once I turn the key in the ignition, I do my best to forget all about Simon. The further I drive, the better my mood returns.
...
After we took a few laps around the block, everybody agreed it was time to go back. Tory wasn't technically supposed to leave Simon's side. Munch didn't trust Simon alone in his house and Daz was using today to make up for not going home to Vee on most nights. Plus, Kareem was complaining about missing him.
He parted ways with us saying he'd be back tonight to collect the weekly input from the trap. Normally he did it on Saturdays but Munch didn't want to take any chances with Christmas tomorrow.
People in the hood got desperate round the holidays, especially our strung out visitors. If any junkies were bold or high enough, our house would be like a one-stop shop for drugs and money.
None of us would be here, and none of us wanted to have to come in on Christmas Day to deal with that headache. So we've all been waiting at the trap for Daz to come through.
I check the time on my phone again.
"It's 2:01 and he still ain't here yet," I say.
"Hit him again, Munch," Tory says.
His voice vibrates against my back.
We're sitting on the sofa with my back against Tory's chest. My legs are stretched out on the remainder of the sofa. I'm so close to sleeping right here. I probably would be if Munch wasn't seated across from us counting money aloud in a brokedown computer chair. The chair is already leaning without Munch adding his weight on it. I'm waiting to see his stupid ass fall through the floor.
We closed up shop a few hours ago so Munch sent Simon on ahead. There was no use in us putting up with his attitude any longer than we had to.
Now I wish I had jumped ship too. I was tired hours ago but it seemed rude to leave after they just bought me a car.
Speaking of, I've been having separation issues from the moment I got out the car. No doubt I would have drove around the whole city if the boys wasn't pressuring me to turn back.
I sit up now to check the blinds to make sure the car is still there.
"Girl you check for that car more than you check for the time. It ain't goin' nowhere," Munch says.
"I can't believe nobody came for it yet," I say.
"Who the fuck gon' come for it?" Munch asks.
I lean back against Tory's chest.
"The repo man. Or the cops. I'm still not sure I believe y'all got it like that to be getting same-day delivery," I say.
Munch scoffs.
"Nigga just bought her a car and she questioning if we got it like that."
"They was gon' give me that fuckin' car one way or another," Tory says.
I point my thumb at him.
"See what I mean? That's what I'm afraid happened," I say.
Munch snaps a rubber band around a stack in his hands. He tosses it into an open duffle by his feet. This makes the second bag he's gotten started on. The other one is zipped up and ready to go if Daz ever decides to show up.
"Don't listen to that nigga. Them people at the dealership ain't talkin' to Tory without a credit history," Munch says.
"Fuck you, nigga," Tory says.
"It ain't my fault you don't exist on paper," Munch says.
Tory uses one hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes.
"It's called being smart, nigga," He says.
"It's called being a felon, nigga."
Tory smacks his teeth.
"Only a muhfucka adapted to jail gon' run around and not leave a paper trail. Bruh ain't got no credit cards, no bank accounts. He prolly don't even got a ID," Munch says.
"I got an ID nigga, fuck you."
Munch gives me a skeptical look.
"He lying to impress you. He want you to think he a real boy," Munch says.
It automatically makes me think of that scene in Pinocchio. I start laughing as Tory grabs the sofa pillow and aims it at Munch's head.
He blocks it with his arm. At the same time, a sharp trill sounds from his pocket. Munch pulls the flip phone out and checks the caller ID.
"It's Daz," He says, "He bet not be letting no bitch get in between him and business."
We watch as he snaps the phone open.
"It's about time," I say.
I cover my mouth while a yawn sneaks out of me.
"You know you ain't have to stay. Munch was just fuckin' with you earlier," Tory says.
I sit up and stretch my arms above my head.
"I know. I wanted to," I say.
"T!" Munch calls.
We turn our attention to where he's sitting with the phone turned away from his ear.
"Isis showed up to Vee's shop airing it all out. Vee throwing his shit out as we speak so he can't make the drop tonight. He wanna know if you'd do it," Munch says.
"On Christmas Eve?" I ask.
I don't know who to be more mad at: Daz, Vee or Isis.
"Tell 'em get his house in order. I'ma take care of it," Tory says.
Munch nods his head as he repeats it back to Daz. Then he snaps the phone closed.
"He said good lookin' out," Munch says.
Tory stands.
"We good as long as they keep that shit in-house. We don't need that drama at Christmas tomorrow," He says.
"Who you tellin'? It's always my shit that get caught ina crossfire," Munch says.
"Let me count this last lah bit and then you can push out," He says.
Tory looks down at me still sitting on the couch.
"You down to ride?"
I turn my lip up like I'm thinking.
"That depends. Does this ride end with me getting a new car?"
"You got a new car," Tory says.
"I'm not talkin' bout Kandi," I say.
"You named yo car after you?" Tory says.
"No, I named her after Kandi with a 'K'," I say.
"Like back when you was a stripper?" Munch asks.
My eyes go buck-wide. Where the hell did that come from?!
"You was there that night?!" I say.
"Trust me. I wish I could forget too," Munch says.
"Ion know, I kinda liked what I saw," Tory says.
I turn with my mouth open just as wide as my eyes. Horrified does not cover how I feel when I see the smirk playing at his lips. I slap him on his arm.
"You was there too?!" I say.
He laughs.
"Why y'all never told me?!" I say.
"Cause we was saving it in case we ever had to flame yo ass," Munch says.
I shake my head, covering my face with my hands.
"Y'all ain't right," I say.
"Girl get up and let's go," Tory says.
I sigh, standing up.
"I guess this mean I ain't getting a new car."
"Girl this ain't The Price Is Right. You better take yo stripper car and be happy," Munch says.
"See, no. Now it's time to go 'cause who asked you?" I say.
Tory chuckles. He moves over to where Munch is zipping up the last bag. He piles one on his shoulder and tosses me the other one.
"Aight, I'll see you tomorrow, my dawg," Tory says.
He bends and daps Munch into a manly hug.
"12pm. Real time, not CP time. Don't be late," Munch says.
"I know the drill," Tory says.
"You bet not be late either, Candyce. Trust, y'all do not wan' hear that lady's mouth," Munch says.
"We'll be there. See you later, Munch," I say.
"Aight. Y'all be safe!"
"Always," Tory says.
I step out onto the porch with him following behind me. He pulls the door closed behind us.
We walk down the stairs and across the street to his black Tahoe. Tory hits the locks and we both climb in.
"Throw that shit to the back," Tory says.
I follow his lead and toss the black duffle over my shoulder.
"So where we going?" I ask.
Tory turns the key in the ignition.
"The Loft," He says, pulling away from the curb.
Pretty soon, we're cruising down the highway with rows and rows of trees surrounding us like before. The trap is kinda far from The Loft but we can get there in less than twenty minutes if we stay on the highway.
Faint Christmas music plays from the radio. Both of us were too tired to tune the radio to a better station so we just let it ride with the volume low.
It's just white noise at this point since I'm more concerned with why Tory keeps looking at me.
"Eyes on the road, Tory. It's late as hell and we're both tired. The last thing we wanna do is wrap the car around a Christmas tree," I say.
When he doesn't say anything, I roll my head against the seat.
"You see what I did there?" I ask.
"Yeah and it was lame as hell so I'm more worried about you being too tired to give me real advice for what I'm boutta ask you," Tory says.
I perk up in my seat.
"I'm listening," I say.
"So I was thinking 'bout what you said," Tory says.
I stay quiet 'cause I'm way too tired to rummage around in my mind's archives to figure out what he means.
"About Kiari. How you said I still got time to make shit right," He says.
"And?"
"And I think you right. I'ma give us another chance. A real chance," He says.
I can't stop the smile from stretching across my face.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Yeah," He nods his head.
"Aww, my brother boutta be all caked up!" I say.
Tory laughs.
"Calm down. Ion even know if she 'gon go for it. It's been a long time since we kicked it. Ki might hate me now," He says.
"She don't," I say.
"How you know?" Tory asks.
"Cause it would be impossible to hate you, T," I say.
"You prolly right. I am that nigga," He says.
I smack my teeth. Tory hears my reaction and smiles. I roll my eyes.
"I was thinking of going see her before Juanita's tomorrow," He says.
"You can't go over there empty-handed on Christmas. Not after you went months without talking to the girl," I say.
"I know. That's why I'm asking if you got time before Juanita's to ride out to Sak's Fifth and help me look for something?"
"Saks Fifth? Expensive taste have we?"
"I figure go big or leave the girl the fuck alone," Tory says.
I laugh.
"I second that!" I say, "But of course I can help you find something. What you thinkin? Purse? Heels? Jewelry? You can never go wrong with a little blue box."
"I think a little blue box gon send the wrong message," He says.
"You don't want her to think she wifey?"
"I want her to forgive me and not be disappointed," He says.
"Yeah you prolly right. Maybe we should scratch the blue box."
I go online to search up the best apology gifts. I'm usually much better at this, but I'm not used to giving love advice this late at night.
"Ou! Unless it's a necklace! You can't go wrong with a necklace cause she can't mistake what's in the box," I say.
"A necklace that say what?" Tory asks.
"How about a 'T' like Troy gave Gabriella in High School Musical?" I say.
"You got jokes I see," Tory says.
I start laughing.
I'm cut off by the squealing of sirens. I turn in my seat and sure enough, there's blue and white lights flashing behind us.
"Fuck," Tory says.
"What about the--"
"Get back there and cover up the duffles as best you can. Here," Tory says.
He steers the wheel with his knees while he pulls his black hoodie over his head. To my surprise, he's in a white wife beater underneath.
"There should still be that jacket you used to sleep on earlier today. Climb back there and get it," He says.
I climb over the seat and into the second row of seats. I tuck the two duffles under the seat as best I can. I throw the hoodie off his back over one of them. I search around on the floor and then the third row of seats for the jacket I used earlier.
It doesn't help that the floor is dark and the jacket I'm looking for is black.
I feel around for it, but I keep getting distracted by my pounding heart and the lights of the sirens.
"You good back there Candyce?" Tory asks.
"Yeah, I'm--I'm looking for the jacket."
"You don't know where you put it?"
"Pull the car over! Now!"
I freeze like the woman over the loud speaker has commanded it yet.
Tory turns around in his seat.
"Don't freeze up on me now, Cee. I gotta pull over but I can't do that until you back in yo seat," He says.
I snap out of whatever trance the cop's voice had over me.
I stand up to move back into the front seat but when I move, I realize my ankle is caught in one of the duffle bag straps. All that moving around must've got my ankle caught up.
I feel the car start to slow down.
"Hol on," I say.
"For what?" Tory asks.
I hear the irritation in his voice.
I sit down in the backseat and move fast to try and untangle my foot.
"Just give me a second," I say.
"5-0 right behind us, Candyce. We don't have a second," Tory says.
"Pull over! I won't ask again!"
"Candyce, get in the fucking seat," Tory whispers.
His panic is making me panic. Now my hands are fumbling with the straps, making the situation worse.
Just hold up!" I scream.
"Stop the car now!"
Without warning, Tory hits the breaks while I'm still trying to untangle my foot. My body jerks forward off the seat. I'm thrown forward into the back of the driver's seat but my foot is still entangled. I feel my foot turn the opposite way and it takes everything in me not to cry.
Instantly, my entire leg feels like it's on fire.
"Fuck!" I scream.
"What the fuck happened?" Tory asks.
"My feet. I think I twisted my ankle," I say.
"We ain't got time for allat. I just pulled over," Tory says.
"What you want me to do? My foot hurts," I say.
Tory keeps checking on me and the cops in his review mirror.
"I can't get back there right now so just stay low," Tory says.
The cops kill their siren behind us.
"The last thing we need is them seeing you crying in the back. Motherfuckers die for less," Tory says.
His plan ain't solid, but what other choice do I have? Like he said, people die for way less.
I do as I'm told, lowering myself to the floor. Ironically, I find the other jacket under the passenger seat. I throw the first one over my legs and the other over my head. I make sure all of my hair is tucked away before laying perfectly still.
I hope these jackets covers everything up. I've seen firsthand how cops shoot first and ask questions later.
I lay there unmoving for about thirty seconds before I start to freak out.
"What's taking so long?" I whisper.
"Shut up, Candyce. I think they running my plates," He says.
Munch just said Tory don't have a paper trail. I can take a guess and say that this car ain't in his name either. And he doesn't have a license. All this gives them reason to check the car.
They gon' kill my ass before they figure out why I'm laying on the floor.
I hear a car door close behind us. My heart drops. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear footsteps walking towards us. This plan becomes stupider with each step they take.
I hold my breath as glint of what I'm assuming is a flashlight, hovers over my face. The hoodie's covering me though, so I can only see the yellow circle glowing through the fabric.
The person must take a look around the car cause I hear footsteps all around me.
Then, there's a knock at the window. Not my window, Tory's. I hear the window slide down.
"That's some dark tint you got there."
Wait...
I know that voice.
"Is that why you pulled me over, officer?" Tory asks.
"Look at me. Do I look like an officer?"
"If you ain't no officer then what the fuck you stopped me for?" He asks.
"Take a guess. You get three tries Torian Gray."
There's silence on both ends.
"I guess it's safe to assume this ain't a traffic stop," Tory finally says.
"Did you piece that together all by yourself? I wasn't sure if you could with your eighth grade education."
I didn't know who it was before, but I do now. It's just like FBI Agent Gutierrez to drag up some old shit to throw back in your face.
Tory chuckles.
"How 'bout you help my dumb ass out by filling in the blanks," He says.
"No problem."
I can imagine the stupid ass sarcastic smirk on her face. Fuck, I wish Tory would just shoot this bitch. Hearing her voice got me ready to do it.
"I didn't think I would have much luck getting you to come down to the station. I figure it would be better to ask you some questions here, without all your boys around," She says.
"With all due respect, I think my answer gon' be the same no matter who I'm around," Tory says.
"Is that so?"
There's silence so I assume Tory nodded his head.
"Well, I'm gonna ask anyway," She says.
It doesn't take a genius to know what she's about to ask, since apparently, her whole life revolves around him.
"Do you know someone by the name of Ace?"
"Nah, never heard of 'em," Tory says.
"Let me rephrase that so we can skip the bullshit and the run-a-around. I know you know who Ace is. I need you to tell me where he is."
"I can't tell you where he at if I don't know who he is."
"That's fair. It has been awhile. Lucky for you, I bought some pictures that'll help jog your memory," Gutierrez says.
I hear what sounds like a photo being bent.
"That's you at his brother's funeral," Gutierrez says.
"Can't be," He says, "I don't do funerals."
"Right. You just kill them and leave someone else to deal with the rest."
Tory smacks his teeth.
"Look man, you got the wrong person," He says.
"I don't think I do."
Tory sighs.
"You're telling me this isn't you standing next to Munch and Daz at the funeral?" Gutierrez asks.
I'm sure Tory's face looks exactly like mine under the jacket.
"We don't all look alike," Tory says, "Now am I under arrest? 'Cause I got other shit I could be doing than going back and forth with you."
"Cut the bullshit, Gray. I know you know where he is. Just tell me," Gutierrez says.
"I don't know who the fuck you think I am. If you don't know where the nigga at, how the fuck you expect me to know? You the cop, ain't you? Shouldn't you know?" Tory says.
There's a pause in the conversation.
"He said this wouldn't go anywhere," Gutierrez says.
"Who?" Tory asks what I'm thinking.
"But I had to try anyway. I'm a hard bitch, but even this is beneath me," She goes on.
"Good. So can we wrap this shit up then?" Tory asks.
"I wish we could, but I'm getting desperate, Tory."
"Well I'm sorry to hear that but what the fuck that gotta do with me?" He asks.
"Everything," Gutierrez says.
POP!
POP!
POP!
POP!
I don't have to wonder who shot who. The impact of the bullets rocks the car.
Stay still, Candyce.
"Tory," I whisper.
Don't move, Candyce.
"Tory," I breathe.
I push the voice trying to save my life to the back of my mind.
My body starts moving at its own pace. My chest rises and falls too fast, making it too hot under the hoodie.
Tears prick my eyes.
How can I lay still when Tory... When he just...
"What...the... fuck."
Tory! My eyes widen.
Maybe she didn't shoot him after all. Maybe she just fired warning shots into the car to get him to talk.
My optimism dies as Tory starts coughing up a storm.
"Don't fucking move or the next one goes in your head," Gutierrez says.
I have to see what's going on. I almost pull the jackets off me, but Gutierrez's voice traveling alongside the car stops me.
"Where are your fucking guns?!"
Tory responds by coughing some more.
"Where are they?!"
Her voice is frantic. I don't think I've ever heard her off her game like she is right now. She sounds... scared.
"Fuck you," Tory sputters.
As terrified as she sounded a minute ago, Gutierrez pulls it together just enough to get her point across.
"Tell me where they are or I shoot you and find them anyway," She says.
Don't tell her, Tory.
She still doesn't know I'm back here. If I pop out at just the right time, I can catch her off guard and do what I should've done in that interrogation room. If I did, Tory wouldn't be coughing up a lung and choking on what I can only imagine is his own blood.
The car door chimes as Gutierrez pulls it open. The car light shines down on me.
If she looks back here and sees me...
"It's one ina arm rest and one--" Tory stops to catch his breath.
Gutierrez wastes no time climbing into the car and opening the arm rest.
I silently pray Tory doesn't reveal where the other gun is.
My heart sinks when I hear him tell her the other one is in the glove compartment.
She must find it 'cause I hear the compartment slam close. She gets out of the car and slams the door.
It isn't until the door light goes off that I realize why Tory gave the guns up. He knew she would shoot me if she caught a glimpse of me back here. Protecting me even when it means he won't be able to protect himself.
Footsteps come around to Tory's side of the car again.
"You move one inch, just one! And it'll be the last move you ever make," Gutierrez says.
Tory doesn't respond. Why doesn't Tory respond?!
I hear footsteps leading back to the squad car parked behind us. Once I'm sure Gutierrez is past us, I throw the jackets off my body.
"Candyce," Tory groans.
I remove my swollen ankle from the straps with much ease than I had earlier.
I lunge for the front seat, wincing as I put my weight on my busted ankle.
I have to crawl over the arm rest and slide my way back into the front seat. Once my butt hits the seat, I look over at Tory.
My hands immediately cover my mouth.
His body is slouched to the side. The seatbelt is the only thing keeping him upright. One of his hands is limp, which makes sense since there's a hole the size of a quarter dollar going through it. Blood soaks his dark skin and wife beater.
"Tory," I breathe.
My voice and hands shake. Tory's face turns up in pain.
"Tory, what do I do?" I ask.
He opens his mouth to say something but blood comes out instead. I lurch forward to help him. I make the mistake of sitting my hand on his right leg to balance myself.
"Ah!" Tory screams.
I pull back.
"I'm sorry!"
Blood covers his mouth and chin. My eyes rake over his body. I want to help him but his shirt is too soaked to know where to start at.
I can't help the tears creeping down my cheeks. Tory cracks an eye open and sees me.
"Candyce," He says.
I hurriedly wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. We need an escape plan. We got no guns, a twisted ankle and Tory on the brink of death. Yet, running is still our only option right now.
"We gotta go, Tory. We gotta go before she comes back," I say.
I peer over the backseat to see if Gutierrez is on her way back. Thankfully, she's still in her car doing God knows what.
"We need to go, Tory. Can you move?" I ask.
He groans.
"Candyce."
I ignore him as I lean over him to undo his seatbelt. I do the best I can to unhook him and stay out of Gutierrez's line of sight.
"Candyce," Tory says.
This time, he grabs my arm. We lock eyes.
"Get out the car," He says.
"What?" I ask.
Tory takes a long deep breath.
"Get out the--"
"No!" I say.
I move his bloody hand off me. He looks too weak to try and convince me otherwise. Even if he had all his strength, he still wouldn't be able to convince me to leave him alone.
I shake my head.
"We're leaving. Right now, Tory. Before she gets back," I say.
With the seatbelt off him, I start pulling him across the seat. We get as far as trying to pull him over the arm rest before he lets out another gut-wrenching scream.
"You can't... carry me...and... run on a... twisted ankle," He says.
"Watch me."
I grab ahold of him and pull him towards me again.
He doesn't scream this time. I expected him to scream, so when he doesn't, I sit him back down to make sure he's still here with me. I have to shake his head for his eyes to open.
As I look into his tired eyes, my tear ducts get heavy.
I pull in a shaky breath. I close my eyes, but the tears seep out from under them anyway.
"Please, Tory. Please don't give up," I say.
Tory's eyelids flutter.
"You gotta go Candyce. You gotta... find Munch."
"No, Tory," I say.
"Tell... tell Juanita I ain't gon make it to Christmas," Tory says.
Tears start pouring of out me faster than the blood can pour out of him.
"I can't leave you, Tory. You're my best friend," I cry.
Tory's forehead begins to sweat while he struggles to pull in more air.
"I know that. You mine too. That's why I need you to get out."
"No," I say, shaking my head.
Tory licks his lips, ready to tell me the same thing.
Suddenly, a car door closes. I jerk my head up and sure enough, Gutierrez is walking back to us. This time, with a small box-like machine gun in her hand.
"Get the fuck out the car, bruh! Go get help," Tory says.
I look between him and Gutierrez.
"But she-she"
"If she was gon kill me she woulda did it already," Tory says.
He only says that because he doesn't see the gun.
"Tory, she--"
He turns his head to me. I cry harder seeing the tears in his eyes.
It hurts like hell, but I do as he says.
"You gon be right here when I come back?" I say.
"Yeah. I ain't goin nowhere," Tory says.
He tries to give me a reassuring smile but he coughs up blood instead.
We're both lying to each other. Him lying that he's gonna' make it out alive and me lying that I'm gonna be okay after. Both lying to protect each other's feelings.
He looks at me like he knows I'm gonna change my mind.
"Go bruh," He says.
Guiterrez is approaching the driver's window now. Tory musters all the energy he has left to push his car door open.
I use the distraction as my chance to run.
I bolt through the passenger door.
"What the fuck did I--"
"Hey!" She yells behind me.
I keep running no matter how much pressure it puts on my ankle. Guiterrez fires some warning shots in the air as she calls me to come back.
I keep my head faced forward. As long as she doesn't see my face, she'll never know it was me.
All I can do is hope she doesn't empty a clip into my back before I can make it through the trees.
Just as I dive into the trees, gunshots explode behind me. I know I shouldn't, but I turn around anyway.
Instead of firing more warning shots into the air, Guiterrez has turned the gun on Tory. I step outside of my body as I watch Tory's body jump around in the car as a reaction to the bullets ripping through him.
I can't scream. I can't fall to the ground like people do in the movies. I can't do anything but watch as she kills my best friend.
After Tory's body slumps over onto the steering wheel, she moves about the car spraying bullets through the matte metal exterior of the truck. I stand just beyond the trees watching her wipe her prints off the machine gun when she's done.
When it's all over, she fires shots from Tory's guns then puts them back in his truck.
I stand there until she hops in her car and tears down the highway.
I tell myself the show is over; he's dead and I let it happen. I don't move until I can think of something else.
I don't know how long I stand there before I remember that somebody has to report him dead. All I know is that the sun is up now.
I take out my phone. I think about dialing 9-1-1, then decide not to. I only have energy to dial one number, so I press the first one in my emergency contacts.
I tell him where I am and then, I pass out.