Push Comes To Shove Part 23

Counterfeit? Squeeze's brows knitted. He focused on the Porsche's hood and pointed at the money. "You saying this ain't legit cash?" Squeeze's brows knitted. He focused on the Porsche's hood and pointed at the money. "You saying this ain't legit cash?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Now gather your confetti and find the door before s.h.i.t gets ugly."

Squeeze and Hector didn't like being made out to be fools. Squeeze steadied his hands on the roof of his car while staring at the front door of Cutty's chop shop. "If it's one thing that will cause me to hurt a bunch of people, it's a chump playing on my intelligence."

"Yeah, Boss. It makes me want to be violent, too." He stretched and yawned, then looked at Squeeze from the other side of the Mercedes.

"GP played me like I rode the little yellow school bus. You know what I want you to do?"

"What's that, boss?"

Two days later, GP was stretched out across the couch, his head resting on Kitchie's lap, staring at the ceiling. "Are you sure, Mami Chula?"

"Yeah." She caressed his face. "I don't care. I don't have to have the car. You and Jewels do what you have to do. I'll get myself together in a little while, then get on the bus. Besides, it'll work out anyway. The Goodwill is only a block away from the group home. When I leave the kids today, I'll walk over, pay for the furniture, then ride with the delivery men to the new apartment."

He was transfixed by the movement of her lips. "By that time, I'll be done and will be waiting at the apartment for you and the furniture to get there. I hope like h.e.l.l that Ms. Pittman approves of the place."

Kitchie could hear Desmond walking across the floor in the apartment above them. "Ms. Pittman said that the only thing she's concerned with is that we have our own place. After she does her walk-through in the morning, she promised me that Secret and Junior will be home by lunchtime."

"One thing is for certain; this is the last day we'll be away from the kids until they go off to college."

Jewels came out of the bathroom, keys in one hand, cell phone in the other. "Come on, GP, you slacker. Let's bounce. Kitchie, we'll holler at you later."

"Alright."

GP sat up and shared an intimate kiss with Kitchie. "I love you so much, girl. See you later on."

"I love you, too." Kitchie heard Desmond's footsteps fall again, thought for a moment, and then a smile stretched across her face.

GP wanted to shout into his new neighbor's phone, but he didn't want her to think that he was rude. He kept it respectful. "What do you mean, she never showed up?"

"Aren't we talking English? No one came in and paid for that order, and the last delivery has gone out for the day."

GP hung up and called the group home.

"Eastside Group Home, attendant Felicia speaking. How can I help you?"

"Felicia, this is Greg Patterson, Secret and Junior's father."

"Yes, Mr. Patterson; your wife has told me so much about you. When I find time, I'm going to come purchase some Street Prophet gear."

"May I speak with my wife, please?"

"She was scheduled to volunteer today, but she never showed up. She was talking about getting the place together for the children; maybe she's there."

"I'm here now. Uh...Felicia, if you hear from her, have her get in touch with me. And, Felicia?"

"Yes."

"Tell the children that I love them."

"Not a problem, Mr. Patterson."

GP stared at the phone for a few moments after he returned it to its base.

His neighbor looked up from the daily paper. "Use it again if you need to."

"No, I'm done. Thank you. I'm gonna go back next door. Thanks again, Mrs. Fletcher."

"Make sure you pull the door up tight." She turned her attention back to an article about a bill that would bring back parole to the federal system. I want my son home I want my son home, she thought. "They need to let them folks out. All that d.a.m.n time they pa.s.sing out don't make sense."

When GP left the neighbor's apartment, Jewels was coming up the stairs. "Is Kitchie with you?" He was trying to remain calm.

"Nah, I just came from getting a piece of p.u.s.s.y. She's supposed to be with you. That was the plan, right?"

"Something's wrong." GP headed down the steps. "Let's go to your house."

"What's up, homeboy?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

It wasn't twenty minutes later when Jewels stuck a key in her apartment door.

GP brushed past her. "Kitchie!" He went into the bedroom only to find it empty.

And that's when he heard it.

The headboard in the apartment above Jewels's was banging violently against the wall. All he could hear was, "Take this d.i.c.k. Take this d.i.c.k. His f.u.c.k game ain't like this, is it? You love this long d.i.c.k, don't you?"

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Ooh, Papi!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Give it to me."

Jewels's mouth dropped. She looked at the ceiling with eyes likened to headlights.

GP's lips tightened. He tossed the queen-sized mattress aside. Out of the six weapons resting on the box spring, GP chose the biggest-a .357.

"GP, fool, what the h.e.l.l are you about to do?"

"Get the f.u.c.k out of my way! I knew something was up with them two."

Jewels was witnessing a side of him she had never seen. This side revealed a raving lunatic on the verge of a mental hiccup. She stepped to his left.

GP ran to the fourth floor and blew the entire lock off of Desmond's door. He kicked the door in to find Desmond running in the nude across the living room for his gun.

GP took aim and fired.

Desmond changed directions, knowing he couldn't make it to the gun.

GP fired again.

Desmond never broke his stride. Curtains fell and the window shattered when he dove through it.

GP rushed into the bedroom to find a stunning Puerto Rican. She was a fascinating sight to see, but not as captivating to his eyes as Kitchie.

With no regards for her nudity, she threw her hands up. "Don't kill me. I don't know s.h.i.t about his business other than he's a hustler. I saw him stash money and c.o.ke right there." She aimed a finger at the closet.

GP stood at the edge of the window and looked out. Desmond was on the ground, in a fetal position, exposing his naked a.s.s to the whole neighborhood.

Kitchie awoke in a comfortable bed stacked with large pillows. The spin of the ceiling fan was slow, hypnotizing even. I don't have a ceiling I don't have a ceiling-she sat upright. Her wrists were bound together as well as her ankles. She tugged at the plastic flexicuffs with her teeth.

"You have a better chance at chewing your hand off than you have with that cuff," came from a dark corner of the room. "I thought you were going to sleep through the night. I could've watched you all night."

Kitchie withdrew from the center of the bed. She settled her back on the headboard and screamed as loud as she could.

"You can be easy. I'm not gonna hurt you. Screaming is useless; there isn't a neighbor for eleven miles in either direction. While you're here, you'll stay locked in this room, and try not to damage the bars on the window."

She could see that the speaker's legs were crossed, but the top of his body wasn't visible, due to the way the main light was being eclipsed by a curtain. "What do you want with me?"

"Nothing more than to make a point." He emerged from the shadow, sucking on a Tootsie Roll Pop.

Kitchie couldn't believe her eyes.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you are really surprised to see me." Squeeze sat at the edge of the bed. "Is there something I can get you?" He pointed. "That's your private bathroom. There's clean towels and a change of clothes in your size on the counter."

"Untie me. What in the h.e.l.l has gotten into you?"

"That's a question you should ask GP. Not that you could at this point. I'm curious to know, though. Why did he put you in jeopardy by f.u.c.king with my cash?" He took the lollipop out of his mouth. "I expected more from the man who claims to love you."

"Untie me, G.o.ddammit!" She kicked him off the bed.

Squeeze let out a hair-raising chuckle as he picked himself up from the floor. He put his face up to hers.

She could smell the candy.

The door burst open. Hector came in with a gun leading the way. "I heard something go b.u.mp."

Squeeze reared back and smacked her across the face, reddening and stinging it. "Don't make me murder you sooner than I plan to."

"Is he gonna die?"

Jewels sat down on the sidewalk beside GP. "He's busted up pretty bad, but he'll live. Have you heard from Kitchie? I checked everywhere."

GP looked at the pay phone. "No, I'm worried about her. I'm angry. I feel defeated. Everything came down on me at once. I can't even keep my own kids. I just exploded. I...shouldn't have shot him."

"You missed." She looked at the booth from which GP had tried for years to make a living.

GP lifted his head as if he had experienced instant relief.

"For a motherf.u.c.ker who doesn't want anybody to get hurt, you did a good job your first time out."

He examined the palms of his hands as though dirt covered them. "So the police looking for me?"

"Desmond ain't telling the cops s.h.i.t. Street dudes like Des hold court in the streets. The broad was gone before the paramedics. .h.i.t the scene."

A squad car stopped curbside and shined its searchlight, illuminating the immediate area and the showcase window of the costume shop. The lone officer poked an elbow out. "No loitering. There's a shelter two blocks down, if you need a place to sleep for the night. They stop accepting at nine."

Jewels and GP stood.

GP squinted to avoid the brilliant light. "This is my art booth." He gestured toward the bare tables. "I've rented it for years now. We're just waiting for a phone call. I've been personally using this phone quite awhile, too."

The officer leaned his head out some. "You do the Street Prophet comics?"

"Airbrushing, T-shirts, sweats, comic books."

"When does the next issue come out? My son loves the Prophet."

"I'm working on it now; it'll be ready come the first of the year."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

"Excuse me," Jewels said, approaching the car.

"Yes, what can I do for you, sir?" He shifted the car into Park.

She removed a CD from her vest pocket. "I was going to drop this off at the police station, but you saved me the ha.s.sle. Police stations ain't my type of hype; might f.u.c.k around and jinx myself. Feel me?"

He took the CD. "What's this?"

"Put it this way, it's enough evidence there to put a ring of molesters behind bars and get you a pay raise in the process."

She watched the squad car's taillights fade into the night. "You couldn't think of nothing else other than you're waiting on a phone call?"

"I am," GP said. "You did the right thing."

Jewels began to walk away. "No, what I should've done was broke his a.s.s off with this steel d.i.l.d.o I got. Show him how that s.h.i.t really feels, then blow his f.u.c.king head off like I'm gonna do Sticky Fingers when he comes out of hiding. People like Conrad Tharp don't stay in jail. Let's bounce, fool."

"No, I'm staying. Kitchie knows to show up here or call if she's in trouble, no matter what time it is."

She turned to face him. "Then we wait a little longer. In the meantime, you can tell me why your punk a.s.s turned down that motherf.u.c.king job and what you plan to do about Desmond. Keeping it real, f.u.c.k Squeeze. He can charge it to the game. If he gets to tripping, I'll cancel his chicken dinner."

"I'm not worried about Squeeze or Desmond right now. Dude jumped out a window; he's twisted, right?"

"That he is."

"Then he's not a threat right now. I got too much s.h.i.t on my mind as it is." He stared at the pay phone. Please let her be safe Please let her be safe.