know what he’s talking about. He was trying to murder us. If I was connected, why did he… he just tried to rape my niece… again.”
The detective’s eyes followed Eric’s stare to where Coco laid. Deedee joined Josephine and they were both crying over the fallen teen.
“Is it true? Did this piece o’ shit try to rape you again?” the detective asked. Deedee nodded. The detective stared at the contortions of pain all over Eric’s face.
“Who ya gon believe, my man? We partnas in this. He’s the real kingpin behind all this!” Lil’ Long shouted.
“Partners? No, we’re not,” the detective said with a sarcastic grin.
The detective watched the expression on Eric’s face as he emptied the magazine in the body of Lil’ Long.
“My partner was killed,” the detective said. Lil’ Long’s body was in death’s dance when the detective grabbed Eric’s hand and tightened his fingers around the smoking gun. “I want you to know what it feels like to take a life and I want to know the reason my partner was murdered. Do we have a deal?” Kowalski asked.
Eric’s answer was barely audible but the detective was satisfied. He was on his horn.
“Gunshots fired, two people hit. Officer needs assistance.”
Kowalski gave the location and shoved the phone back in his pocket. Deedee walked over and hugged Eric. He was bleeding but still standing and holding on to the gun Kowalski had given him. Josephine sobbed softly with Coco’s head quietly resting in her lap. The ambulance seemed to arrive with the quickness but it still felt like forever.
The medical technicians hurried Coco in and immediately started attending to her injury. The bullet had grazed Eric’s arm and the injury didn’t require hospitalization. The paramedics patched up his arm and the detective hauled him away to an unmarked car.
“Take the girls to the hospital,” Eric said to the bodyguard. “I’ll be in touch with you as soon as I can.”
He sat in the backseat of the police car. Both Deedee and Josephine were teary eyed watching Eric being driven away.
“C’mon get in,” the bodyguard said to the girls after hailing a cab. “Follow that ambulance.”
Deedee and Josephine hopped in. The cab sped off in the early morning air, chasing the ambulance. There was hardly any traffic on the road and the taxi easily stayed behind the speeding ambulance. Once they reached the hospital, the girls jumped from the cab and raced to catch up with the EMT’s who were already taking Coco through the emergency room door.
They kept walking behind the gurney, their heartbeat racing as Coco was carried beyond where they could enter. The security stepped in front of them.
“Are you family members?” His stare was friendly but firm.
“Yes…” Josephine said quickly.
“And you, young lady?” he asked, addressing Deedee, who was still staring straight ahead as if in a trance.
“No… I mean yes. No, she’s our best friend…”
“You’re gonna have to wait over in the waiting area until the doctors are through examining her,” the security said pointing. “Wait over there. The nurse will call you soon enough.”
“Thanks,” Deedee responded as if by some remote force.
She was a wreck, her mind running a hundred miles an hour and her body exhausted trying to keep up. Deedee glanced at Josephine and wondered why the bullet hadn’t hit her instead of Coco. Why Coco? She grimaced when Josephine’s mouth started running. Deedee wanted to shut this mouthpiece down but was so tired she could only listen to the ranting.
“Why didn’t you tell home-boy we were sisters? You know we down like that...” Josephine’s voice trailed when she saw the look of concern clouding Deedee’s face. “Coco’s gonna fight through this,” she continued. “I know her. You give her any type of chance and she’s winning. That’s just Coco.”
Deedee glanced at Josephine and stared off. The incident replayed inside her head like a terrible nightmare. Her body quivered. While Josephine was confident about Coco’s eventual recovery, Deedee was still finding it difficult to wrap her mind around the fact that Coco was even shot.
“Try calling her mother again,” Deedee suggested.
CHAPTER 1
“I got that hard white lady…”
Ms. Harvey heard the recognizable pitch. She felt her heartbeat increasing and automatically her steps quickened, hurrying in the other direction. Ms. Harvey folded her arms around her slim, frail body. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the humming coming from deep inside the recesses of her mind. The same urge and familiar mental gnawing of wanting to fly far away had crept from her stomach, impeding her breathing. Sounds mixed with her fear came from her dry lips.
“I got it, oh boy…”
“I don’t want none o’ y’all sh—”
“This will make you feel real good, Ma.”
Ms. Harvey walked on as the lure of getting high moved through her body. The thought of her last high left her feeling euphoric but uneasy. Ms. Harvey’s legs went rubbery and her stroll slowed. She appeared to be suffering shortness of breath when she stopped and looked back.
“We can go around the corner…keep it on da low-low.”
Ms. Harvey tried hard to stay on the straight and narrow since making a pact with her daughter in early spring. It was the beginning of what she hoped to be a nice summer. It was past midnight and she had decided to take a walk. Her daughter was in the club celebrating successfully graduating from high school with friends. Ms. Harvey was very proud of her daughter and earlier relished the accolades bestowed on Coco. It was late Friday night and Ms. Harvey couldn’t stay inside her apartment. She was excited and wanted to share her daughter’s story with peeps from the neighborhood.
Coco gave a wonderful and moving valedictorian speech. She lauded her mother, which lifted Ms. Harvey’s swag to dizzying heights. So she went about the neighborhood on a crowing mission. Ms. Harvey soon found herself outside a local bar, a few blocks down from her apartment building. While spreading the news to anyone who would listen, someone bought her a drink and another.
In her walk back home, she thought of how Coco lived up to her end of the agreement they’d struck. She wanted to keep her end of the bargain but Ms. Harvey was alone and temptation inched closer. It was like a silver back gorilla, prowling and looming larger and larger in the form of cheap cocaine.
“Crack is no good for you,” she said.
Rachel Harvey was alone in familiar haunts with old friends and old habits. Drinking alcohol made her decisions even more erratic and she knew being out on the street after midnight, anything could happen. In the hopes of an extended
