Tick, Tick, Boom! Read online

  “I already know.” Glancing back at the sleeping baby, Kenya got out of the truck, praying Storm wasn’t at home. That way at least they’d get a chance to get London out of there without added controversy. Walking over to the electronic keypad located on the side, Kenya punched in the security code causing the attached garage door to open wide. “Thank God he ain’t here. Come on, pull inside, and leave the baby in there. He asleep anyhow.”

  Brother Rasul and Kenya went through the always unlocked door directly into the side entrance of the condo. Met by the sounds of music and the smells of something cooking, both he and Kenya were confused.

  “I thought no one was at home.”

  “Storm’s car isn’t here. Maybe he just left the radio playing,” Kenya speculated walking over the area of the living room floor she’d let London die on. “And I don’t know why he left this pot on. His ass don’t even cook.” Leading him into the kitchen, they soon heard a dog start barking. Scared, Kenya reached back for Brother Rasul’s arm.

  “It’s a dog, Kenya,” he said, trying to ease her fears. “I didn’t know y’all had a dog.”

  “Yeah, neither did I,” Kenya replied feeling like she was in a foreign place not somewhere that up until a week ago she called home. “But if you can go back there, my sister’s body is behind that second door. Can you just get her? I can’t see her like that anymore.”

  Leaving Brother Rasul to clean up her dirty work, Kenya headed up the stairs to get a few more of her personal belongings she’d left behind. With each step, something just didn’t seem right. First the pot on the stove, then the dog barking, and now she smelled the aroma of her cucumber melon body wash. What the fuck? Entering the master bedroom, Kenya heard sounds coming from the shower in her bathroom. The closer she got, she could see the steam slipping through the semi-closed door. Who in the hell?

  Slowly pushing the door open, Kenya discovered that there was a person inside her private domain. Not knowing what to think, instinctively Kenya armed herself with a family-size bottle of bleach she kept underneath the sink. I’ma blind me a motherfucker real quick! Twisting the cap off, she braced up. Moving quietly toward the glass shower door there was about to be sheer hell to be paid. Seconds before she raised her hand to pull the handle, the water suddenly stopped. Not wanting to give whoever the opportunity to be prepared, hood-wise Kenya flung the door open splashing bleach everywhere.

  “Oh my God, argggg,” Jordan painfully screamed out from the surprise attack. “I can’t see, arggg, it’s burning, arggg! My eyes, my fucking eyes.” Her arms, which had bleach on them as well, swung wildly trying to find the knob to turn back on the water and hopefully wash off the chemical that was poisonous to the skin. “Help me! Urggg, it’s burning! Oh my God!”

  “Jordan! Oh, hell naw. Jordan?” Kenya immediately recognized her ex-employee from Alley Cats. “Why in the fuck is you at my damn house, in my fucking shower? Have you lost your entire mind? What the fuck is going on?”

  “Is that you, Kenya?” Jordan was relieved, thinking that somehow Marco had gotten inside the condo and made good on his promise to get at her. “Kenya, please help me. Whatever that was is burning my skin like a motherfucker and I can’t see! Please, girl,” she continued to beg as Kenya stood idly by.

  Setting the almost empty plastic bottle on the sink, it was about to get real. Preparing herself to do real battle, Kenya went aggressively in. “Bitch, didn’t I ask you what the fuck you doing at my goddamn house? Your ass might be burning but you ain’t deaf, you heard me? And where the fuck is Storm?”

  “Kenya, damn, please,” Jordan begged, hoping for a miracle and some sort of grace from her old boss.

  Jordan frantically moved her hands along the moist, sweating walls. Her heart raced as the burning feeling intensified. Finally, she found the knob and attempted to turn it on.

  Not in the mood for any games or further delays, Kenya was not playing around. She wanted answers. Some random ho suffering bleach burns in her shower didn’t mean jack shit to her. Using her foot, she kicked a naked, dripping wet Jordan dead in the stomach causing her to fall in the corner of the marble floor. Not letting up or feeling any sort of sympathy, Kenya stumped her out. Combined with the rage she’d been feeling all week from London’s senseless death, O.T.’s untimely murder, Storm’s deceitful betrayal, and having to drive all the way to Detroit, then back, a grown man couldn’t stand a chance to win against her right about now, let alone a naked trick with bleach tears in her eyes.

  “Okay, Jordan, you ready to answer my questions or you want me to really burn that ass? It’s up to you ’cause I don’t give a dry fuck.” Kenya reached back toward the sink for the bottle.

  “Wait, Kenya, damn, wait.” Jordan couldn’t see clearly, but she knew Kenya was moving ready to back up her threats.

  Finally feeling like she was going to try to explain, Kenya turned on the cold water. “I wanna hear this bullshit. But trust no matter what in the fuck you say, you damn straight getting another ass kicking before you leave!”

  Allowing the cold water to flush her eyes out and her body off, Jordan crawled into the other corner of the shower trying to catch her breath. Being able to make out Kenya’s shadow, Jordan knew she needed medical treatment immediately if she hoped to see properly in the future. “Kenya, please, it’s still burning.”

  Not feeling any remorse, Kenya coldly stared into Jordan’s beet red, swollen eyes demanding an explanation one more time before she promised to kill her. “Look, bitch, this ain’t a joke okay? Now, this is the last fucking time I’ma ask you. Why in the fuck is you here? I know Storm ain’t fucking your skank ass. If you tell me that, you and him both gonna die!”

  Panting for air, Jordan swore that she and Storm hadn’t fucked. And in reality, she was telling the truth. In between begging for more cold water and rubbing at her irritated eyes, she informed her that Storm was gone to view O.T.’s body. She explained to Kenya that her and his homeboy Ponytail had been staying there to keep Storm company. “It ain’t like what you think, Kenya, I swear on everything I love. Storm ain’t been checking for me. It’s not like that.” Jordan ran her con game down praying it worked. “We just been here because Storm been nutting up. We just been having his back while you was gone that’s all. Storm said I could use this shower. I swear I ain’t mean no disrespect to you. I swear.”

  “You and Ponytail?” Kenya recognized his name as one of Storm’s boys from back in the day and she kind of eased up on her rage.

  Jordan picked up on the fact that Kenya thought she and Ponytail were really a couple and she ran with it. “Yeah, me and him been here just trying to keep your man from going crazy, just kicking it. Where you been anyway?” She tried flipping the script hoping for mercy.

  “What?” Kenya was thrown off at the question and didn’t know what to say.

  “Is y’all two beefing hard behind that Big Doc B bullshit or what?”

  Kenya was stunned she’d even mentioned Doc. “Hold up, bitch, what in the entire hell you talking about?”

  At that point, Jordan knew the tables were about to turn, and she monopolized on it. “Listen, girl, I’ve been banging him too, but I ain’t tripping. He is a good paymaster. It ain’t no thang. He everybody cash cow from down at the club.”

  “Banging him? Who, Doc? Why you say that stupid shit?” Kenya didn’t know what to say next or what to do. I know Doc’s ass ain’t tell this good gossiping bitch what happened. I swear if he did that dumb shit . . .

  After getting Kenya to turn back on the water, Jordan finally stood to her feet. She rinsed the still-burning chemical off her skin the best she could before Kenya’s mercy wore off. Stepping out the shower, buck-naked and soaking wet, the stripper had no shame, not even asking for a towel. Delusional in her thoughts, she wanted Kenya to see what she was working with and what Storm was gonna be getting every night when she got rid of her Detroit ass once and for all. Pretending that Doc, not Marco, had shown her and a few other people the
infamous video, Jordan saw the horror plastered on Kenya’s otherwise smug face. “Yeah, girl, a bunch of us seen it. I ain’t gonna lie, you got a hellava head game.” Jordan gave her a half-cocked smile. “Storm is one lucky man. Shit, I wish you liked to eat pussy like you suck dick. I’d definitely be down.”

  “Storm.” Kenya felt dizzy thinking about the video she’d made only to ensure Doc’s silence about the baby, not for him to show every random ho in town. “I gotta go.” She suddenly turned around gathering up a few items and stuffing them into a bag. “Damn, I gotta go,” she mumbled once again while Jordan took the opportunity to splash more water from the sink in her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, girl, Storm is so fucked up behind O.T., I don’t think he has time to worry about you and the next man who getting his wet wet,” Jordan remarked raising up with water dripping from her face. “And dang, what’s going on with the baby? That shit crazy as hell.”

  Pausing at the doorway, Kenya couldn’t believe her ears. Hold up, this bitch even know about the baby? I wonder did she see my sister down there too? “What you mean baby?”

  “I saw all the baby stuff in the other room, so I figured—”

  “Figured what?” Kenya waited to hear what Jordan was gonna say next determining if she had to kill her as well.

  “Well, when you weren’t here, I thought you went back to Detroit to have you and Storm’s baby. It is his, ain’t it?” Jordan pushed her luck going for bad. “And dang you look good to be pregnant!”

  Knowing Storm would be completely done when he saw the video, if he hadn’t already, Kenya didn’t feel the need to correct Jordan on her misinformed facts. It was obvious she hadn’t actually been in the walk-in freezer; otherwise, she’d be running off at the mouth about that as well. For the time being, she’d let Jordan continue to breathe. At this point, Kenya had nothing else to lose, so one more dead body on her growing list wouldn’t matter. It was nothing but God and time restrictions that saved Jordan’s conniving life. Tossing her bag over her shoulder, Kenya briefly looked around once more then exhaled. Heading back to the lower level of the condo, she saw Brother Rasul standing at the end of the staircase nodding. Kenya knew he’d gotten London’s body discreetly into the truck and was ready to leave.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m a hundred. We’ll catch up with Storm later. Let’s handle this other business first.”

  Shocked to see a naked female standing at the top of the stairs, he looked to Kenya who just shook her head guiding him out to the garage. “Let’s just go. It ain’t shit here for me anymore. This life is done.” Kenya had him throw her bag in the back seat on the floor. A smile of satisfaction came across Brother Rasul’s face, and Kenya’s cell rang before they could get off the block.

  * * *

  STORM

  Meanwhile, on the far side of town, Storm had gotten himself mentally together. After paying the funeral director the rest of the cash he owed him for his rush services, he went to see O.T. Literally sick to his stomach, he approached the casket. With both hands gripping the sides, his body started to shake uncontrollably. Closing his eyes, Storm wished he could just open them back up and all of the past few days would have been nothing more than a bad dream. His brother would be alive, talking that good shit he always did. Kenya would have been back at the house complaining about this and that. And he would be sneaking peeks at London’s ever growing belly on the sly.

  Unfortunately, when he did reopen his shut eyes, the horrible nightmare was still staring him in the face. All the dope money, bad bitches he’d fucked over the years, guns, property he owned, and expensive rides he possessed weren’t gonna make this situation good. The tragic reality was what it was. “Damn, we should’ve gotten out this game a long damn time ago. I should’ve made the final call, but I didn’t. This shit on me. A nigga dropped the fucking ball, bro.” Storm repeatedly apologized to his brother’s motionless corpse. “I fucked up! I’m sorry, bro!”

  Wiping his eyes from the multitude of tears, Storm looked at all the flower arrangements that had come in. Playas out here might’ve feared your ass, but them hoes always had love. Storm read a few of the small attached cards to himself before moving over to the family guestbook. He wanted to see what mourners had beaten him there earlier that morning. Oh, hell naw! What in the fuck? He thought his red eyes must’ve been playing tricks on him. Kenya James’s name was printed in black ink, bold as life directly on top of Anika’s. Kenya fucking James? This must be a fucking joke. Kenya? She’s back? Naw, this must be a joke. Wasting no time, Storm rushed out of the small chapel and into the director’s office with the book in hand. Not caring that the man was on the phone, apparently consoling a potential customer, he started yelling. “Yo, yo.” His voice got louder as he slammed the book on the desk. “I need to holler at you real quick; now!”

  Sensing the drug dealer was not in the mood for common courtesy, he abruptly ended the call. “Yes, what’s the problem? You don’t like the job we’ve done? We did our absolute best.”

  “Naw, dawg, it ain’t that.” He pointed at the two names wrote in the book. “It’s this right here.”

  “Okay, and?” The funeral director was at a loss.

  “Kenya James’s name is right damn here in this fucking book. What’s it doing here? Why is it in here? I’m confused!”

  “Calm down, sir. I guess she signed it earlier this morning. I’m sorry, you didn’t inform me or the staff you wanted a closed viewing. I can adjust that immediately; no problem. Please forgive us.”

  “Hold up. What you saying? She was here? In this funeral home seeing my brother?”

  “Yes, this morning. She, a man, and a tiny baby were here shortly after we opened. Like I said I didn’t know you wanted a private viewing only. Allow me to make that clear to all the staff.”

  “Naw, hold up. A baby? A man? What man? What he look like? Was this her?” Storm reached in his back pocket pulling out his wallet then a picture of him and Kenya.

  Nodding his head, the man confirmed that one of the young women who had been there this morning was indeed Kenya James. “The man she was with is from Detroit. He’s a pretty big dude that’s all I know.” He had dealt with enough shadiness from drug dealers over the years to divulge as little information as possible. Saying he was Muslim, or the type of truck they were driving, would be on Storm to find out. After all, Brother Rasul had also paid him to do a job, so he wanted to stay out of any altercations that could possibly deviate from future business.

  Leaving the book on the desk, Storm bolted out the door in utter disbelief. Darting into the parking lot, he jumped in his car, slamming the door shut. Dialing Kenya’s number, he was shocked when she answered. “Yo, girl, damn. Where the hell you at? Where you been?”

  “What? Don’t worry where the fuck I’m at,” she fired back at the top of her lungs. “Worry about the stankin’ slut Jordan you got staying at my damn house, taking a shower in my fucking bathroom. That should be your new focus not where I’m at. Now bye, nigga. Beat it. Kick rocks.”

  “Hey wait, slow down, girl,” Storm begged while pulling out into traffic. “My damn son!”

  “Don’t ask me nothing about his little shitty ass. You lucky I don’t throw that ugly bastard of yours out the window. Now go fuck yourself, Storm, we done!”

  Kenya hung up in his face. At first he thought it must have been a joke the funeral director was playing on him for some reason. Yet the fact she knew Jordan was at the condo proved it was true. She was back in town. Storm was overjoyed. His backbone was not far. She probably still back at the house kicking Jordan’s teeth in and dragging her by the hair.

  Running red light after red light, Storm finally made it to his block. She didn’t lie. London did have that baby! My son! My motherfucking son! The thought of setting eyes on his baby was all he could think about. With O.T. gone, his first-born seed was all he had left to look forward to. Kenya might’ve been still on that “fuck you, nigga” bul
lshit and that was all right with him. Bitches come and go but, his son was his bloodline.

  Chapter Twenty

  JORDAN

  What should have been a calm and normal morning was anything but that. All hell had broken loose, and in reality, the bona fide sack chaser had no one to blame except for herself. Having thrown on a track suit, Jordan snatched her cell off the floor. Her eyes were still burning as she tried to focus. Her skin still felt as if it were on fire. She was still trying to catch her breath and wrap her head around what had just taken place between her and Kenya. Nursing sore ribs alone with a busted lip, she held on to the banister making her way downstairs. That bitch got me fucked up! She just lucky she caught me slipping, because if she didn’t, I would have popped all the way off! Somewhat disoriented from the ass whopping she’d just endured, Jordan struggled to see the cracked screen of her phone as it started to ring. Now what? Who in the entire fuck is this about to be? Caught in her feelings, she figured it had to be Storm demanding she get the hell out his house for fighting with Kenya. At this point, I don’t give two dry fucks if it is that nigga telling me to get the fuck on. He need to bring his ho ass back here and try to control that wild animal bitch he so in love with; put the cheating ho back on her leash.

  “Yeah, hello, what is it?” Ready to do verbal battle, her loud voice rudely rang throughout the house. “What? Say what?” she angrily responded to the caller. “Look y’all can pull the plug for all I care. Now please stop calling my damn shit. I got enough problems without worrying about my dingbat sister!”

  After callously hanging up on the hospital she rubbed at her irritated eyes. Suddenly as if she needed any more surprises, Jordan smelled the pot she’d left simmering on the stove burning. Seconds later she almost jumped clean out of her skin. “What in the fuck else can happen today? I swear to God this ain’t the time.” As if on cue, the smoke detectors in the kitchen and rear pantry area starting ringing, causing Reckless to start back up barking. Turning the fire off underneath the pot, Jordan got yet another call. She was annoyed. Without attempting to look at the cracked screen, she sucked her teeth. Assuming it was the hospital again, she answered. “Damn, what part of don’t call me again do you not comprehend? I thought I just said fuck that damaged bitch!”