Hood Misfits 3 Page 2

  Both of our chins tilted up, we reached out to give each other our familiar handshake with a salute and both of us walked off in the Trap, going our separate ways. Trigga and Jake had done something major, I could feel it as I found my way out of the Trap, but it was the fact that they died in that fire that pushed me to do me, my agenda kicking in overdrive. Weeks later, I kept my eyes on the news, waiting to hear anything about what went on, but I got nothing, only whispers of their death.

  Back to the present day had me thinking on the third time my life changed. It actually started back when I walked into the Nightwings stadium, ready to train for the big game on Sunday. Wasn’t my first time walking into the stadium, but it was my first time walking in seeing a person from my past. Walking through the big stadium, my eyes adjusted to the blaring lights all around me. Music thumped while technicians and other stadium workers bustled around setting up, cleaning, and prepping the field. To the right of me, I saw the Bounce Girls. They were our team’s dance/cheerleading squad. I watched as they swished their hips, bopping to “My Homies Still” while another set of dimes stood to the side, watching, as if learning the routine.

  I looked on with my arms crossed before heading toward my teammates. As I walked through, I gave a glib smile when some of the ladies called my name. Like any nigga, I drank in the view of the ladies before me. All of them were of varied heights, complexions, shapes, and sizes. It was like a wonderland for the eyes and I wasn’t one who couldn’t notice the morsels that were presents. What tripped me out though was the fact that in the group of new girls, ladies, who had just made the cut for the Bounce Girls and who were also alternatives, was a familiar face, one I wasn’t expecting and one I didn’t want to remember me.

  She stood talking to several Bounce Girls, resting a hand on her hip to repeat specific steps to the routine. I watched her do some turn that had her spinning on the tip of her toe, lifting her leg in the air to land into a jumping split, a move I recalled she was well known for and one that always had her G-string lined with ducats. My hand rested on the back of my neck, rubbing it. I watched her sensually roll her hips as she flipped her long, dark sandy-brown hair then bit her lip, hopping back into routine to the song, showing off her plump ass through the whole thing.

  Them Bounce Girls were crazy with it, but with this new addition, I knew if she kept doing what she was known for, shit, she would rise through the ranks as a star. I quickly walked by, nodding and returning the hellos to the ladies and stadium staff. Time was of the essence and we rookies had to put on a show for the sponsors who sat in their private box, watching us. We had met some of the new sponsors who were going to be keeping us all lined with deep pockets. One of them was a new guy from London. Brotha reminded me of that cat I remembered on The Wire; he had the air of wisdom, and I swear a glint in his eyes that said he was a killer. It tripped me out, because the moment we shook hands, it was as if I knew the guy, and he let me know off the bat that he would be watching me closely.

  Watching me was what one of the main sponsors, a cold, callous motherfucker who I tried to stay out of sight from, was doing. Micah Tems was the big man, the main nigga with all the money, the pull, the power, who not only dropped us ducats but also recruited. He was the one who made sure I was snatched up outta the Nightwings football camp I participated in after Dame was gunned down. It was his push, but he used assistants who fooled me into thinking I was clear from the residual fallback of Dame’s big plan.

  That day, when the entire sponsors’ board checked us out and made their introductions, was the day I knew that Dame’s plans was still in play. See, what most people didn’t know about the NFL was the seedy underground, all the politics that went on behind the scenes. All the fans got to see was the glitz and glamour. They didn’t know about the secret sponsors, men and women who put money on you as if you were a horse in the Kentucky Derby. They didn’t know about the bounties put on quarterbacks, wide receivers, and running backs alike. They didn’t know that if you didn’t make a certain yardage a game or a certain amount of touchdowns, that the sponsors could make your life a living hell by causing bad press, or, even worse, ending your career.

  All those people you saw sitting in those expensive-ass sky box seats and shit, they were the big men and women on campus. Even the owners kissed most of their asses because they kept the money coming in. From drugs to bets to prostitution, it all went on behind the scenes of the NFL. In football, teams weren’t supposed to have managers. Well, they had general managers, but team managers? Nah, they didn’t typically have those. But if you were a prize championship team you did.

  You needed a “manager” to handle all the illegal activity going on behind the scenes. That was where Micah came in. It wasn’t hard to forget someone who used to do Dame’s bidding when it came to the players he sponsored, hiding bodies, and handling money. Judging by the way Micah’s eyes darkened like coals as he watched me before giving me a snide smirk and a wink, I knew he was going to be a problem. That nigga was going to be a thorn in my side, one that I could not take lightly. I had to figure some things out before he figured them out for me. Had to do the one thing I was trained to do by a group of misfits back in the Trap: get my game up and develop my plan, because Every Nigga Gotta Agenda.

  Dropping my bag, I laced up my kicks and jogged out into the group of my fellow rookies who greeted me with daps. Big smiles were all around. I glanced up into the stadium, locking eyes on the sponsors’ box and rolled my shoulders, digging in to run my drills. I could feel that nigga watching me, and it made my skin crawl. Being in this world and not in my former one, I felt like a caged animal. Like my homie Pac once said, “I ain’t a killa, but don’t push me. Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to getting pussy.”

  There was no words truer than that shit right there. This world had me on a chessboard, one where I could feel myself being micromanaged. I had to learn how I could be me, and protect my own world, while making sure this glossy, rich one didn’t get tainted in the way. It had me apprehensive and had me on guard, but one thing about me, I wasn’t a sucka. I had a mind made for the game of chess. You push me and you will get gunned down. Those were my thoughts as I practiced that day while being watched and measured for my prowess.

  That was the nature of this new world I was in and only a small scope of the ruthlessness in it. My name is Shawn “Enzo” Banks. I’m not only a playa in this game, but I’m also a killa.

  Chapter 1

  Shy

  Weariness traveled through every nook and cranny of my body. A wretched spasm of pain cut into me, causing me to lean over in a position that was habitual for me now days. I emptied my stomach, pushing my thinning black hair from my face. I was exhausted as I sat back into the bed to get my breath. I used to have beautiful locs, but after I got stage one cancer, I chopped them off and went through my chemo. That was about two years ago. Now my frizzy mane was back and I was sick yet again, the cancer back to claim its bounty. Life had a funny way of going full circle. I guess it was karma, because my life hadn’t always been perfect.

  Glancing at the flat-screen TV that my nephew bought for me, in a condo I knew he stole from a nigga I despised he ever worked for, I turned up the television. A tired smile spread across my face at the thought of how much his thirteen-year-old brother looked like him. Taking care of them again had brought me joy and regret. Regret that I had been too scared to keep them with me when I knew their mother, my sister, was no good for them like I thought she was. The circumstances around her and my nephews was one of the many secrets I’d held on to, one I knew I’d have to tell them soon. The other was one I’d take to my grave.

  The reason for that was because I was their true mother. When I had Shawn I was young, only eighteen, when I was violated on my way to my apartment near Decatur. Shawn was the product of that attack and I wasn’t ready to take care of him like I wanted to. Sade was eager to be a mother at twenty-five, so we made an arrangement and she came to the A to pick u
p Shawn, and took him to Kennesaw, Georgia. She’d travel every summer so I could see Shawn growing up. My little heart was always so smart and it made me proud to watch him become so strong. Those visits were my bread and butter until I learned that my attacker had become invested in having my sister too. He’d found out where she was, attacked her, violated her, and pumped her with drugs, something I didn’t know of until later in Shawn’s life.

  By then, my rapist had made a routine of traveling between my sister and me. He’d fuck us both and then found the means to stalk us both to the point that I got tired of running. He destroyed my sister’s womb with drugs, which she continued to use to hide from the pain of him finding her and using us both. I used my gift for words to be my healing tool, even when he got me pregnant again with Drew.

  He used my fear to keep me quiet. I shipped my other son off to my sister, hoping that if he hid in Chicago my attacker wouldn’t find them, but I was wrong. He did, and he made her life hell. It wasn’t until years later, when she was dead and police found evidence that it wasn’t an overdose but foul play, that he ended up in prison, where justice found its way into his cell. He had destroyed my sister and me, and I promised he’d never lay his hands on the product of his attacks, ever.

  I had kept that secret well, until my sister died. When I moved my nephews home with me, my fears became reality when Shawn was recruited by a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a demon named Dame. I fought hard those days with Shawn, begging him to find a different football camp, one out of state, one away from the Trap, away from a man he had no idea was closer to him than he’d ever know, but it fell on deaf ears. He always had my and my sister’s stubbornness and our ability to be fighters, loyal to family first and others second. That was our weakness, one that had been exploited well in the past, and was now being repeated.

  Fear gripped me, but there was nothing I could say. I knew the devil was a lie and he was going to use my . . . my son for his own plan, and he did. Shawn became his reluctant dope boy and his prize budding star in the football camp. I watched it all, heard it all, and no matter how much Shawn tried to hide his budding predatory ways from me, it never worked, because my ears were always in the street. But like any protector, I kept it all to myself, especially the one secret he didn’t want anyone to know, one that broke his soul and heart because of what Dame made him do. One that broke my own heart as well: the death of his best friend Jake’s grandmother, all ordered by Dame through Shawn’s trigger finger.

  Those boys were close, and Dame used that knowledge to have Shawn break into Jake’s grandmother’s house, shoot her, then go after Jake. Sadly, it worked, but it broke my son down to his core by the act and he’d never forgiven himself for it. Even with running in the streets by that boy’s side, watching Shawn have the letters E.N.G.A. tatted down the side of his ribcage, that secret ate at him deeply and broke his spirit. I hated Dame’s existence before that, because of where he came from, but I hated him even more after that. There were plenty of times I tried to take him out for it all, like I had done Shawn’s assistant coach, but I couldn’t get close enough without jeopardizing my kids to do so.

  Now I lay sick in my thoughts, karma growing in me in the form of cancer, and I prayed that the Lord would just let me stay long enough to protect my kids, because everything I ever did I did for them.

  A soft, wet feel of a cloth against my forehead had me glancing up into a set of chocolate brown eyes that warmed my heart. I genuinely loved this kid as if he were also one of mine. I used to make cakes and cookies for him and his granny. I used to sit and listen to her stories she’d share with me, watching her give me recipes of dishes Jake loved, just in case she passed on in her sleep one day. I was to protect him too and I did my best; damn, I did my best. I was the one who saved him from being paralyzed; the pain of the memories always left me crying, so now I lay looking into that angel of death’s face, muttering, “Forgive me.”

  I knew when a flash of anger and hurt spread across his face that he was really there, and the shock had me sitting up abruptly in confusion.

  “You are supposed to be dead, baby boy. I . . .”

  Any anger that was once in his face now faded away with wisdom I hadn’t expected, and he leaned down to settle me back in bed and kissed my hot brow. “No, ma’am. Sometimes the Lord has other plans; and I see you were a part of that always, too, huh?”

  Fresh hot tears trickled down and I realized I had made a confession I hadn’t intended to.

  “There is no vengeance in my heart for what you just told me. That nigga Dame planned it all. But he’s maggot bait now. I can’t kill my fam for something he had no control over. I learned that lesson awhile ago.”

  Head bowing, my arms wrapped around him to hold him tight, his deep voice felt like healing balm to me, and I cried.

  “Besides, I see the pain in you and him changed you both, made you sick; and now from what you just told me, I want to burn that nigga’s dad’s grave. I got you always Tía Shy, that’s why I’m here.”

  A loving smile warmed my cheeks as he wiped at my tears. I saw beside him a cake and a thick envelope. “I cried for days, baby boy. Don’t you ever do that to me again, kid!”

  He chuckled low, crinkles forming near his eyes, even as a smile spread across his thick, bushy beard. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll make sure not to. Look what I have for you.” He turned his back and showed me the cake I had spotted. “Got you this caramel cake because I remembered how you liked them. My baby girl can burn in the kitchen so she made it. I just tasted it.” He chuckled as he held my hand.

  “Your baby girl? Well, tell her I said thank you and next time you visit you bring her here so I can give her a hug.” I chuckled. I patted the back of Jake’s hand, swallowing my tears.

  “Yes, ma’am. I will. I wanted to see you and give you that while I was in town,” he explained.

  The little boy I used to call a teddy bear was now a grown man, so changed. I could see familiar pains in his eyes. I could tell he had gone through hell, something I was familiar with.

  “How did you find us?” I asked him.

  “I’m always watching my fam, the ones I trained,” he simply stated. “I’m set up in a way that will help you. Right now, just listen. After what you just told me, you really want to listen. There’s money, a cell phone for you that connects directly to me, and a set of keys in that envelope for you and Drew. We are going to pack you up and get you outta here. For now it’s best we get you in a place to heal you up and get that cancer out, Tía Shy, while keeping you and Drew from the fallout.”

  My mind immediately understood what he was trying to say. “So just because Dame is dead doesn’t mean his agenda is?”

  Jake gave a slight nod, cut me up a piece of cake, and watched me carefully savor it. “You’re right, and y’all being in Dame’s old spot ain’t going to work for long but we got it covered. So Enzo can stay here do his thing so not to cause too much suspicion. We want to make sure nothing happens to you two while Enzo covers all his bases. Right now, just you and Drew will be moved to a new place, and we’ll move you out in a way where watching eyes can’t catch ya, trust me.”

  I studied his expression. His gait was in a protective position, all love and trust, and I knew he’d protect my babies, so I agreed. “Okay, whatever I have to do, I’ll do it. Let us stay a little bit and we’ll move there, so Shawn can get his game play ready.”

  “I can respect that. I’ll set up some nurses you can trust. I know one who healed poison from my boy. You know him.” Jake smirked.

  My eyes widened and I almost choked on my cake, because I definitely did know him. He’d come to our house from time to time, too, to rest his head when he didn’t trust it in Dame’s setups. I asked, “Will I get to see him?”

  “Yes, ma’am, if we can get you all outta here quickly and let Enzo do him in the game. We’re just moving you out of here to a safe spot in Atlanta. You won’t be too far, until we get you settled in your therapy,” he
explained.

  My hand covered his again, and a knock then a peeking of Drew’s head in the room let me know our conversation needed to be cut off at the pass. Drew knew some of the streets but I was proud that he still was a kid at the same time.

  “Okay, baby boy, I’ll explain it when I see him. He’s at drill, and will be going to some party later tonight,” I explained. I quickly continued, when I saw him stand, “And you’re not going to kill my baby?”

  Jake turned, his hands clenching before relaxing. “No. Dame did that shit to wound us both. Enzo loved my gram too, just like I love you, Tía. Him and me are fam, and it’s all love. I just got to fuck him up later but it’s all love; he’s E.N.G.A. just like you used to tell us back when we were kids. You created us. I got you for life even if I ever die.”

  Rocko’s “U.O.E.N.O.” sounded from Jake’s pocket. He dug into it, then gave a quick glance at his cell before looking up to give me a reassuring smile. He stepped forward to pull Drew in with a hard tug. He snaked his muscle-thick arm around my son, a boy who thought I was his aunt, and they laughed and joked.

  “Your secret is mine, but I do have two people I need to tell: Trigga and my boss. They need to know that because we have someone you all need to meet,” Jake said, before setting Drew down.

  I didn’t understand who we had to meet, but to keep us safe, I had to trust that. “Okay. No one else please.”

  “On my word. Love you, Tía; rest up or else I’ll be hurt about it. We need you healthy because who else will be my seed’s nana?” He gave me a gentle smile while standing in the doorway and I smiled, knowing he had found love and created life. “I got some of your stuff with me. We’ll meet again.”

  Drew followed him out and that was the last I saw of Jake for now.

  This life was karma, but eventually healing can come. That was proof in the words of a young man who always looked out for us, just as I did for them. I was the gatekeeper; that was my agenda.