looked around carefully. The windshield was smearing quickly, obscuring his vision, but he knew Hollis because his grandmother lived there. “Yeah, yeah, right there. That’s that muhfucka’s house.”
“You sure?”
“No doubt.”
Messiah nodded, all traces of playfulness were gone. Shit was about to pop. He pulled down the block and parked the stolen Buick. They both packed MAC-11’s in their goose down parkas. They got out into the chill air, their breath making clouds.
The buildings on the block all had Christmas lights at windows covering their warm rooms. Shadows moved behind glass. TVs flickered and somewhere lame ass Christmas carols leaked from an open window.
They walked like Christmas never happened, pulling the masks down over their faces, heading for their objective.
The snow felt like cold kisses on Kane’s skin.
“Daddy’s home!” Jason shouted. He ran to Tariq as he came through the door. He bent down and scooped him into his arms. “What’s up, my little soldier? You been good?”
“Yes!” he sang, like the innocent angel he wasn’t.
“No,” Misha said behind them as she came out of the kitchen. “Tell your daddy how many times I had to tell you to pick up your toys.”
Tariq looked from Misha to his son. “Is that true?”
Jason dropped his little head, as if his toes could tell a better story.
“You must not want the toys I asked Santa to bring you tonight,” Tariq said, putting his index finger under his chin and lifting his face up.
“No daddy, please I’ll be good! I’ll clean up! I promise!”
Tariq held back his laugh. “I don’t know, I’m gonna have to call Santa and see what he has to say. You go to your room.”
He put Jason down and he trooped off, head hung, like he had just been sentenced. As soon as he disappeared up the stairs, Tariq and Misha released their laughter, embracing at the same time.
“How long do you think before he comes back pleading?” Tariq chuckled.
“There’s no telling,” Misha replied.
There was a moment when this could have gone any which way. Yesterday Misha was breaking his balls about work, today, well…Tariq pulled Misha in gently and then kissed her softly. For once she didn’t stiffen and pull away. Maybe Christmas would come early for him tonight too. Misha’s eyes were big and as wide as her smile. Tariq wanted that look to last forever.
“Enough time to make the move?”
“Hell no,” Misha protested but the look in her eyes said maybe later. They both laughed.
It was their last joyful noise.
Kane peeped in the front window, holding his breath so not to steam up the window and saw Misha and Tariq hugging.
“He in there?” Messiah whispered.
“Hell yeah that bitch ass nigga in there. Come on…”
Kane led the walk around the side of the house to the back door. The sound of carols on the air was lost as they made it into the yard. Policeman not putting a lock on his gate. Tariq was a bigger fool than even Kane thought he was. The yard was full of plastic garden toys piled for the winter. The window in the back door was dark. No light in the kitchen. Kane tried the knob – the door was open. His gold grilled smile looked as menacing as a vampire. “That bitch ain’t shit,” he chuckled.
“QB hoes, you already know,” Messiah answered.
They pushed open the door and entered the kitchen. The house was all but silent. There was enough light spilling from the living room door to light their way and they went past the table and chairs like ghosts.
They emerged in the living room. Misha and Tariq were still in their embrace. But Misha was looking over her husband’s shoulder. At the sight of Kane and Messiah, she let her hands drop and moved away from Tariq.
“Hey baby…” Tariq began to protest, but as soon as he was clear of his wife, Kane and Messiah raised their MAC’s. Tariq musta heard the rustle of their clothes because he looked around then and saw the glint of the guns aimed straight for him.
Kane nodded at Tariq, like he was signaling to an old friend across the street, then the guns spat vengeance and retribution.
Brrrrrap! Brrrrrap!
Bullets tore through Tariq like a kid through the wrapping paper of a present. Holes appeared in his police shirt, popping the material and running a line up his chest, through his chin, blowing apart his nose and then smashing into his forehead. Pieces of brain, bone and skin flurried up like murdered snow…
Tariq flipped over the coffee table, spinning around and falling face first to the carpet. His hand twitching. After two seconds it stopped, and then like Tariq’s fingers, everything in the room was still.
Misha’s eyes watered up. Up until that moment, she hadn’t realized how deep she was. Tariq had been her husband and the father of her children, but fifty grand brought a serious amount of treachery. Even against her husband. She moved towards Kane and Messiah who had dropped their guns. The air stank from blood and cordite.
“You gotta go. I gotta call the police to make it look good,” Misha said, hating herself, but keeping her mind’s eye on the prize.
Kane smiled.
“Yeah, but you goin’ too!” Messiah spat, pointing the MAC at Misha’s face point blank. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d done what they asked. Left the back door unlocked. Kept Tariq busy while they got into the house. Had even telephoned them to tell them Tariq was coming home early tonight. What more did they want?
“No! Power said he only wanted Tariq!” she screeched.
Kane shrugged. “He lied.”
The MAC spoke its last story as it told Misha its unhappy ending.
Her face opened like a can of tomatoes on a firing range. This time the bullets went down, digging into her neck and damn near separating her head from her body. A guaranteed closed casket kill, Kane thought with grim amusement.
“Mommy?”
Messiah and Kane turned. Jason was standing at the top of the stairs. Holding a teddy bear to make himself feel braver. Jason had already wet himself at the noise of the gunfire. His pajamas were leaking and so were his eyes.
“Leave my mommy alone!” he shouted in his best tantrum voice.
Messiah
