Back in the Hood Read online

  Halleigh frowned and looked at her phone to make sure she was dialing the right number. The number was correct. “Her phone is turned off?” Halleigh said to herself, slightly confused.

  Her game all fucked-up. She got a millionaire for a boyfriend and she can’t keep her phone on ? I’ma have to teach her a thing or two. Halleigh flipped down her phone and got up so she could get dressed.

  “I guess I’ll go ahead and do a little bit of shopping today,” she said as she headed into the back room.

  Halleigh opened her robe and let it fall to the floor as she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she stepped beneath the spray, she dropped her hand to her stomach and smiled, thinking about the life forming inside of her. She adjusted the water temperature, and the steam began to fog up the room. Halleigh let the water hit her face and cascade down her body. The feeling of the hot water was almost orgasmic. She closed her eyes and was enjoying herself as images of Malek popped into her head.

  Halleigh was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the two masked men creep into the bathroom with her. All of a sudden, she felt a cold draft as the shower doors flung open. Startled, Halleigh opened her eyes and found herself staring into the eyes of a man with a ski mask. She tried to scream, hoping Malek would somehow come and save her, but the man grabbed her and put a rag over her nose and mouth. She could smell the chloroform. She tried to kick and scream, to release herself from the man’s grasp, but his strength was too much for her.

  After only a few seconds of trying to free herself from the man’s hold, Halleigh began to lose her consciousness. The foggy bathroom made the scene dreamlike, leaving Halleigh disoriented and scared just before she finally blacked out.

  A couple hours later, Halleigh woke up groggy, and still naked, the way she was when she was yanked out of the shower. She looked around the unfamiliar empty room. There was nothing in it, except for a toilet and a soiled mattress on the floor.

  Confusion and fear sank in and Halleigh began to do the first thing she could think of doing and the last thing she remembered trying to do—scream for help. “Help! Somebody, help me!” She stood up and ran to the steel door, the only exit in the windowless room. She figured she was in a basement because of the concrete walls and floor. The moist air had a damp, horrendous smell that made her nauseated. She pounded on the door, screaming and kicking.

  After a couple minutes of no response, she dropped to her knees in defeat. She began to think about her unborn baby as she gripped her stomach. Oh my God! Who would do this? Where am I?

  “Malek, where are you?” she whispered, curling up into a fetal position and crying her eyes out.

  “Here it is right here.” Scratch pointed at the big brick house on Nebraska Avenue. He had taken Malek to a small weed spot that the local Mexicans ran on the east side of Detroit. “They move heavy reefer out of this one right here,” Scratch said as he and Malek looked on.

  “How you know?” Malek asked, wondering how a dope-fiend knew about a weed spot. “Man, I know everything that goes on in this city,” Scratch said with pride. “They’ve been making good money over here for years. Big Poncho is over this one, and he runs a solo operation. He sells weed out the front and a small amount of smack out the back. He has a shooting gallery in his basement. He charges dopeheads to come use his gallery, and it’s small, but this spot will give us practice.”

  Scratch looked at the house and shook his head. “Whew! I ain’t did this in years, youngblood,” There was a little nervousness in his voice.

  His adrenaline began to pump as he continued filling Malek in on the spot. “He might have a couple of li’l niggas in there, but nothing serious. If we do it right, we can hit him and take him for what he got. He keeps his money under floorboards in the closet in the master bedroom.

  “You say he doesn’t have a lot of people around him?”

  “That’s right. Sometimes his little brother is in there with him, and sometimes his li’l honey dips, but for the most part, he never has a crew inside. But he does keep a gun on his hip at all times, and I know he probably has a couple of straps stashed around the house.”

  Malek sat and listened intently as he put a plan together in his mind. Maybe Scratch isn’t as dumb as he looks.

  “I got a plan,” Malek said as he cocked his gun back. He reached into his glove box, pulled out another pistol, and set it in Scratch’s lap.

  Scratch gripped the gun and examined it like it was a rare art piece. He cocked it back also, loving the way the cold steel felt in his palms. It had been years since he held a gun, and it felt damn good.

  After Scratch finished schooling Malek on the scenario, the two got out of the car and prepared to proceed with their plan. Malek kneeled by a bush near Poncho’s back door, waiting for Scratch to unlock the back door for his entry. Scratch had gone into the house through the front door with the intent to let Malek in.

  As Malek waited, it felt as though hours had gone by. He was beginning to think Scratch had chickened out. “I know I shouldn’t have dealt with a junkie,” he whispered as he remained in a crouched position. He gripped his black .45 and stared at the door. Then, he heard the sound of the back door being unlocked. Malek smiled. Scratch had held up his end of the plan.

  But just as Malek rose and walked to the door, he saw something unexpected. A Mexican-looking female with long, flowing hair came walking out the door with a garbage bag, apparently to take out the trash.

  They locked eyes and stared at each other in silence. When the girl saw that Malek was wearing all black and a ski mask rolled up on top of his head, she figured out he wasn’t there for a friendly get-high visit. She tried to run back into the house, but Malek grabbed her by the hair and put his gun in her face.

  “Shhh!” he ordered, quieting her before she even got the chance to scream for help. “Look, if you listen and do everything I tell you to do, then you won’t get hurt,” Malek said sternly. “But I promise you, if you make one false move . . .” Malek didn’t see the need to finish his sentence.

  The girl nodded her head and began to tear up. Malek guided her back into the house as he pulled his ski mask over his face. He put his gun to the back of the girl’s head and pressed her into the living room, where Poncho was weighing up ounces of weed.

  Poncho was taken by surprise. Malek pushed the girl toward him. Poncho tried to grab his gun, which was on the coffee table near him, but Malek swiftly motioned toward him, causing him to freeze.

  “Don’t try it!” Malek pointed the gun directly at his head.

  Poncho instantly put up his hands and swore under his breath, knowing he’d been caught slipping.

  “You already know what time it is, homeboy. Where the stash at?” Malek walked closer to him and put the gun to his temple. He cautiously looked around the room, making sure that no one caught him slipping, and hoping Scratch would surface.

  Once again, he kicked himself for thinking he could trust a junkie. He was certain that thoughts of their plan had gone right out of Scratch’s mind the minute he walked into the dope house.

  “There isn’t a stash, bro,” Poncho said with a heavy Spanish accent.

  “Oh, so you think I’m playing, huh?” Malek smirked. Without hesitation, he pointed the gun at Poncho’s foot and let out a shot, leaving Poncho’s Timberland boot smoking and pouring blood. Poncho’s and the girl’s screams echoed through the house as Malek watched him roll around on the floor in agony.

  At that point, Malek was going for broke. He didn’t care how he got money. His only concern was taking care of Halleigh and his child, and if niggas had to suffer for the happiness of his loved ones, so be it.

  “So let’s try this again. Where is the stash?” Malek said, more authority in his tone this time.

  The girl didn’t even let Poncho respond. She pointed to the back room and yelled, “It’s all in the back safe, under the floorboards.” She was crying hysterically.

  Poncho knew he had to kiss his whol
e stash goodbye. “Stupid bitch!”

  Malek smiled. He was about to tie them up, but before he got to Poncho, he felt a gun on the back of his neck and froze up. He slowly raised his hands, not wanting to turn around and cause Poncho’s younger brother to shoot.

  The gunman, his red bandana covering his forehead and sitting right above his eyes, said, “You fucked with the wrong ese, homes! Drop the gun!” He nudged Malek with the barrel of the shotgun.

  Before Malek could obey the man’s command, another familiar voice filled the air, a more smooth tone. “Naw, playa, you might wanna drop your gun.” Scratch pressed his gun to the back of the man’s head.

  Malek smiled. Scratch had come through for him.

  “Drop it!” Scratch yelled.

  Poncho’s younger brother dropped his gun and put his hands up. Poncho continued to shake his head, regretting that he wasn’t more cautious. He couldn’t believe that a junkie had set him up to be robbed.

  Malek grabbed Poncho off the floor and guided him to the back. “Scratch, hold it down in here!” Malek yelled before he exited the living room with Poncho.

  “I gotcha, youngblood.” Scratch kept his gun trained on the woman and Poncho’s younger brother, while Malek went back to get the money. Scratch smiled, feeling good to be a part of something. It gave him a sense of importance, and while the ride lasted, he was definitely enjoying it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A small smile formed on Mitch’s face as he sat in one of his many stash houses and watched Halleigh on the monitor. She was balled up on the ground, crying. He, along with his henchman, Bugz, shared a weed-filled blunt while watching her like she was a star on a television reality show. Mitch had had a camera installed in the basement room where he held Halleigh.

  Bugz smiled as he enjoyed every minute of the torture Halleigh was going through. He was tall and lanky with a neat Caesar haircut. Two huge front teeth had earned him the name Bugz, because of his close resemblance to the cartoon character, Bugs Bunny.

  “How long are we going to keep her down there?” Bugz asked after he exhaled the weed smoke.

  “As long as we need to. That nigga Malek thinks shit is sweet. He should have killed me when he had a chance. Now I’ma make that nigga suffer,” Mitch said as he saw flashbacks of Malek holding the gun to his head.

  He knew Halleigh was Malek’s weakness, and the best way to get back at him. It wasn’t hard for him to get Malek’s address. He had a computer geek on his team that could find out any information that he needed about Malek, so finding where he rested his head at was simple.

  Mitch stood up and began to think about how he was going to kill Malek once he got to him. The only thing he had to do now was to wait. He was expecting a call from Malek sometime soon.

  “I’m not going to just kill him. I’m going to make that nigga regret the day he woke up and thought he could put a gun in my face. I am the new king of Flint. Hands down!” Mitch yelled as he paced the room and his rage began to take over.

  Malek and Scratch bolted out of the house with two bags full of weed and money. They left the three Mexicans gagged and tied up. Malek popped the trunk and tossed the goods inside while Scratch hopped in the passenger’s seat. Malek snatched the mask off of his face and got in the driver’s side and pulled off.

  “That’s what I’m talking about, youngblood!” Scratch said excitedly. “I haven’t had that type of rush in years.” He looked back at the house in his rear view mirror. “This shit was supposed to go down. Can you believe not another mu’fucka was up in that house?”

  Malek was just as excited as Scratch that the two had pulled off the robbery, even though things hadn’t gone exactly as planned. “Good job, Scratch,” Malek said as he maneuvered the car through traffic.

  “Thanks, youngblood. Scratch still got it, baby,” Scratch said, talking to himself more than Malek.

  “That’s not the hit I wanted, though. This can’t be any more than ten thousand in cash and about fifty grand worth of bullshit weed that probably won’t even sell,” Malek said, slightly frustrated but not completely ungrateful. The only thing on his mind was getting back the money that Gary had swindled from him. He would go after Gary later, but until that could happen, he had to make sure he had enough money to support Halleigh in the way he’d promised. There would be no scraping to buy groceries for his family.

  “See, youngblood, this wasn’t for the money. This was practice for the big hit. You did a lot of things wrong, and if that was one of Mitch’s or Sweets’ spots, you would have been dead.”

  Malek frowned up at Scratch’s comment, not liking the fact that Scratch was pointing out his flaws. But something in Malek told him that he should listen to what the old G was saying. Wisdom was something no one could buy, so he allowed Scratch to continue without interference.

  “The first mistake was, you didn’t keep everything in front of you,” Scratch told him. “You gave the other cat room to sneak up on you. You have to work from a corner, so that nothing can creep up behind you.”

  Malek knew Scratch was correct. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right. Another thing you did was underestimate the female. You had your gun just on Poncho, and all your attention was on him. If that fox was smart and up on the game, she could have popped you with the gun that was hid in the seat of the couch. I guess she didn’t know it was there, but Scratch peeped it as soon as he got in the room.”

  Malek listened close and soaked up the game that Scratch was dropping. Although Scratch was a raggedy has-been in the street game, there was definitely knowledge there that he had picked up through his rough journey. Malek was new to the stickup game. He only knew how to hustle and move bricks; but he was a quick learner, and now he had his sights set on Mitch’s spots.

  Malek thought about his former comrade’s complete disloyalty and disrespect. “I’m ready to get at Mitch,” he said under his breath.

  “I don’t wanna throw a wrench in your program, young-blood, but if you wanna hit Mitch, you might want to go in the middle of the morning. That way you can catch him unsuspecting. If we go now, he’s gonna have young guns sitting around, waiting to pop off.”

  Malek nodded his head and got on the highway. “You right.”

  “So, if it ain’t too much, can I see my girl Halleigh now? Scratch ain’t seen her in a while,” Scratch said like a proud father.

  “I got you, baby,” Malek said as he headed toward their home in Grand Blanc. He knew the close relationship that Halleigh and Scratch had. After all, he was the reason why she’d been at the rehab center during the shooting. He usually wouldn’t bring anybody to his home, but he would make an exception for Scratch. He felt that Halleigh would appreciate being surprised by Scratch’s presence.

  “Just don’t say nothin’ to her about what we just did, okay?” Malek warned.

  “No doubt,” Scratch answered then leaned back in the seat, happy he was going to see his girl, Li’l Rina.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bugz watched Halleigh closely on the screen. Mitch had left to make a couple runs and had assigned him to stay at the abandoned stash house with her, so he was responsible for feeding and guarding her. Bugz watched as Halleigh kicked and screamed, trying to get help. The more he looked at her, the more he became fascinated by her.

  Mitch was very adamant about telling Bugz not to mistreat or even interact with Halleigh while she was in their custody, explaining to him that she wasn’t the enemy, just a means to an end. But Halleigh’s beauty was too much for Bugz to resist. He looked at her curvaceous body and wondered what it would be like to have a woman of her beauty. Her perky breasts and fat ass had him aroused, and he wanted to feel the inside of her. Although her hair was wild and she was distraught, she still was beautiful in his eyes.

  Actually, he had gone to school with Halleigh, but she became too popular and out of his reach once she hooked up with the so-called basketball star. She never gave him a second glance. He’d always had
a small crush on her and secretly envied Malek. Now that the tables were turned and her life was in his hands, it was sweet revenge for him.

  He walked over to the refrigerator, grabbed a TV dinner, and tossed it in the microwave. He waited for it to warm and then headed down the basement stairs with it.

  Halleigh heard the creaking of the wooden stairs, and her heart began to beat fast. She didn’t know who to expect to walk into the room, and hurried to the corner, as far away from the door as possible. She sat down and pulled her knees close to her chest as she waited to see who was coming. She heard the dead bolts being unlocked—there were at least four of them on the door.

  Halleigh saw the tall, lean man step into the room. She began to breathe heavily as she stared at the face that had some familiarity to it. “Where the fuck am I?” she asked, trying to figure out how she knew the guy.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Bugz tossed the TV dinner toward Halleigh then slowly approached her. As he got closer, he could see Halleigh tense up, trying to cover her naked body with her hands as best she could. Bugz was in awe at her physique.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he stood over her.

  She looked up at him and screamed, “Why in the fuck am I here? Why?”

  “Look, I don’t know why. I’m just—”

  Before Bugz could finish his sentence, Halleigh gave him a power punch to his groin, sending intense pain through his body.

  “Aghhh!” he yelled as he grabbed his nuts and bent over in agony.

  Halleigh made a run for it. She jumped up and bolted, darting up the stairs, where she tried to open the door. It was locked. She pounded on it furiously and screamed for help, but it was to no avail.

  Bugz limped to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at Halleigh, who was hollering and trying her best to open the door. “You can’t go anywhere without these, bitch.” He held up a set of keys that unlocked the dead bolts on both doors.