Back in the Hood Read online

  As quickly as she fell in love, grief took over. She saw Malek fall to his knees with the baby in his hands. A look of pain donned his face, and the front of his white T-shirt filled with crimson blood. Halleigh reached out for him, but she couldn’t get to him. She heard her baby crying, but she couldn’t move. The only thing she could do was cry.

  Halleigh’s eyes shot open at the sight of her love dying, and she stared into space. “God, please help us,” she pleaded.

  She couldn’t help but think that her vision was some type of premonition. That’s why he hasn’t come for me yet, she reasoned in her mind. Please, God, let Malek be okay. Her love for him was just that deep. Even while she was in distress, she prayed for his wellbeing. Even if a part of her was angry that he wasn’t there for her, she still couldn’t help but love him. They were soul mates, and her love for him was unselfish and unyielding. It was evident that no matter what, she couldn’t force herself to not love that man. Only death itself could keep her from loving him. She hoped, though, that wouldn’t be the case

  Mitch entered the trap house, his authority causing his henchmen to straighten up and pretend as if they hadn’t just been distracted by the game of NBA Live they’d been playing for some hours. Mitch stood in the living room in his Pelle jacket, black hoodie, and Sean John jeans, with a Styrofoam food box in his hand.

  “Turn that bullshit off,” Mitch stated in his low, serious tone. He walked over to the TV monitors and looked at Halleigh on the screen. “She ate?”

  “Nah,” Bugz replied distractedly as he continued to play the game.

  “Since when?” Mitch replied as he pulled his baggy pants up on his waistline.

  “Shit, I don’t know, man. Yesterday I think,” Bugz replied, refusing to turn his attention away from the game.

  “Why not?” Mitch asked calmly as he went over to where Bugz and two other corner boys were sitting.

  “The bitch ain’t got no act-right in her,” Bugz said as he hit the blunt that was being passed around. He chuckled as he thought about his sexual tryst with the captive.

  Mitch walked over to the game and snatched the cords out of the wall, interrupting their tournament. “Fuck am I paying you niggas for? Huh?” Mitch asked. “Didn’t I give y’all strict orders? Why didn’t y’all feed her? She’s pregnant !”

  Bugz frowned and shot back, “Damn, fam, I didn’t know we was running a luxury hotel out this bitch. We kidnapped that broad. So, I forgot to feed her. I don’t see why we hanging onto this bitch anyway. I say we pop her ass and pop that bitch-ass nigga Malek.”

  Mitch shook his head in disdain and then lunged at Bugz, hemming him up by his collar. He pointed a threatening finger in his face. “You feed her because I say feed her, nigga. I’m boss. You don’t need to know why we hanging onto her. I’m not paying you to be sitting around with these mu’fuckas glued to an X-box. Understand?”

  Bugz snatched away from Mitch, embarrassed by the fact that he had been degraded in front of his peers, but he humbled himself and replied, “Yeah, I got you, fam.” He brushed his shoulders off as if Mitch had gotten dirt on him by touching him. “Damn . . . my fault, my nigga. I’ll go feed her now.” Bugz headed toward the kitchen.

  “I got it,” Mitch said as he grabbed the food he had intended for himself and started down the stairs to give it to Halleigh. He mumbled to himself about how incompetent Bugz was as he made his way to the bottom of the steps.

  The loud noise his Timberland boots made as he descended the steps sounded identical to Bugz’s footsteps, and Halleigh cowered in fear, huddling farther into the corner of the basement.

  As Mitch reached the bottom of the steps, he could see her through the darkness. He looked up and fumbled around before he pulled the string hanging from the ceiling to illuminate the room. A yellow glow shone throughout the basement, and a funky smell, like fresh blood, filled the air. Mitch immediately frowned up and walked toward Halleigh.

  “Halleigh, come and grab some of this food,” Mitch stated, his voice causing her to turn around.

  “Mitch?” she called out weakly.

  He didn’t respond.

  Halleigh blinked a couple of times, adjusting her eyes to the light. Once she could see clearly, it was evident that Mitch was the person in the basement with her, confirming that she had been right all along. He had been the second figure she’d seen after being snatched out of the shower.

  “Mitch, please let me go. Why are you doing this to me?” she asked from the floor. She wanted to stand, but her body was in too much pain.

  Mitch swallowed hard, coaching himself the entire time not to let Halleigh’s sweet voice get to him. “Come eat,” was all he said.

  He squatted down near her and put the food on the floor. There was a look of terror in Halleigh’s eyes, and Mitch tried his best to avoid eye contact with her as guilt bombarded his soul. The last thing he had ever wanted Halleigh to do was to look at him as though he was nothing but a monster. It definitely wasn’t the same look he’d seen her give Malek. He’d secretly longed for that look, not the one he was receiving now.

  As Mitch looked downward, dodging Halleigh’s eyes, he noticed dried blood between her thighs. He could smell sex and sweat in the air. He frowned as he lifted her chin and rubbed her hair gently as if she was his woman.

  Halleigh closed her eyes. She couldn’t stand to look into his eyes like that. She could still feel him staring at her, though. She began to shake, thinking that he, too, may force himself upon her.

  He observed the torn shirt as well. Between that, the blood, and the smell, Mitch’s hands began to shake as he put two and two together in his mind. His eyes scanned Halleigh once more. Her once confident swagger was replaced with fear and an insecurity that he hadn’t seen in her since her days as a Manolo Mami. The blood on her thighs only confirmed his suspicions.

  No wonder Bugz hadn’t fed her. He was too busy trying to fuck her.

  Son of a bitch! Mitch thought about his hardheaded, horny worker.

  “Mitch, please . . .” Halleigh whispered, interrupting his thoughts. “I need to see a doctor. He raped me, Mitch. He hurt me real bad. I just need to make sure my baby is okay. That’s all I want to do. Please, Mitch,” Halleigh pleaded.

  Mitch clenched his jaw and rose to his feet. He was too pissed for Halleigh’s soft words to even penetrate him at that moment.

  He emerged from the basement and stood near the door as he motioned for Bugz to approach him.

  “Yeah, uh, what’s up, fam?” Bugz stammered. He could tell by the menacing look on Mitch’s face that Mitch wasn’t too pleased with him. He’d already gotten on him about starving the poor girl, so certainly he was over that and on to something else.

  “Why is she bleeding?” Mitch asked Bugz, staring him straight in the eyes as if daring him to try to lie.

  Bugz attempted to laugh the tension away and answered, “I told you the bitch ain’t got no act-right.” Bugz grabbed his private parts. “So a nigga had to put some up in her.” He snatched at his crotch obnoxiously and turned to walk away.

  “Yo, Jake?” Mitch called out to one of the other henchmen sitting on the couch.

  “What up?” Jake replied.

  BOOM!

  Out of nowhere, Mitch put a bullet through the back of Bugz’s head. “Clean this mu’fucka up.” Mitch glared from one corner boy to the other. “Any of you other niggas who can’t follow orders gon’ find yourself in the same predicament. I said watch her and feed her. Nothing more, nothing less.” Mitch was furious at what had taken place in his absence.

  The room was quiet, but Jake hopped up and did as he was told. He shook his head in shock as he began to dispose of the body, but he didn’t dare say a word. He wasn’t trying to see Mitch, and he definitely wasn’t trying to be next.

  Just as quickly as Mitch’s temper had flared, it settled, and he went back into the basement. He removed the coat he was wearing and covered Halleigh’s body before picking her up and carrying her up
the stairs. Her body was limp in his arms, almost like a rag doll. She had no energy to protest her relocation, and Mitch’s arms provided her with warmth from his body heat.

  Halleigh hadn’t the slightest idea where Mitch could be taking her, but she didn’t even have the energy to protest anyway. She had been in a damp basement and she knew that whatever he had in store for her couldn’t be worse than that.

  The first thing Halleigh saw when she emerged from the basement in Mitch’s arms was Bugz’s dead body on the floor. She looked up at Mitch, who simply stepped over the body without a word then carried her up another flight of stairs. He took her to a bedroom and laid her onto the queen size bed.

  “Look, Halleigh, this wasn’t supposed to happen,” Mitch finally spoke. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Plan?” Halleigh asked with a puzzled look on her face. “What plan, Mitch? What’s going on?”

  Refusing to allow the tenderness in Halleigh’s voice to get to him, Mitch ignored her queries and continued speaking. “I’ma call a friend of mine over here to check on you and make sure you and your baby are okay.” He deliberately put some sternness and bass into his voice to let Halleigh know that even though he was about to get her some help, he still meant business. “Don’t act a fucking fool up in here either, screaming and all that. Don’t give me a reason to hurt you, Halleigh. I don’t want to take it there with you, so don’t leave me without a choice. Just chill out for a minute, and at the end of all this, you will walk out of here unharmed,” he said.

  Halleigh shook her head in disgust. “I don’t understand you, Mitch,” she replied with hatred laced in her voice. Any tenderness or gentleness that had once been in her voice was now null and void. She was confused, hurt, and mad. She needed to get to the bottom of this and find out what was going on. Why would Mitch be doing this to his best friend’s woman?

  “You were Malek’s friend. He trusted you. I trusted you, Mitch. Why would you do this to us? Is this about you and me? I mean, I’m not blind. I’ve noticed the subtle ways you are with me. And believe me, Mitch, you are a good guy, but . . .” Halleigh’s words trailed off before she continued with, “I could never be with you.”

  Mitch laughed charmingly, rubbing his neatly trimmed goatee as he shook his head in disagreement. He gently rubbed the back of his hand across Halleigh’s cheek. “It was good, ma, but it wasn’t that good.” He pulled his hand away.

  “I don’t beef out over no broad, but let me put it to you like this: maybe if you had chosen differently, you wouldn’t be in this situation. This shit don’t happen to niggas like me. Only niggas like Malek. He ain’t a gangster; he’s a ball player. He should’ve stuck to the game he knew best. Believe it or not, he started this war. Now I’ma finish that nigga,” Mitch said.

  Mitch walked over to the door. Before exiting the room, he turned to Halleigh and said, “Now I’ma have my niggas set up the cameras in this room. The windows are armor guarded, and the door has a dead bolt. Don’t be stupid, which means don’t try anything stupid.” Mitch turned to leave, but then had one more thing to say.

  He walked back over to Halleigh. “Oh, yeah, and don’t even bother wasting your time thinking about Malek. That nigga is as good as dead.”

  He looked down at Halleigh’s stomach. “I suggest you better concentrate on keeping you and yours alive.” Mitch reached to stroke Halleigh’s face, but she smacked his hand away forcefully and with malice.

  Mitch smiled. He couldn’t help but admire her loyalty. He had known all along that her loyalty to Malek was the road block stopping him from pursuing her, which is why he never really stepped to her like he wanted to. He knew it would be in vain as long as Malek was still around. Mitch knew that Halleigh would never choose him, even after Malek’s death. She loved that boy way too much, and although he didn’t like it, he respected it. Any nigga in the game would have loved to have a for-real ride or die chick like Halleigh on their team.

  Unfortunately, she’d never be on his, especially not now. With that final thought, Malek turned around and walked out, leaving Halleigh alone.

  Although she’d managed to maintain her composure while Mitch spat all that venom about Malek her way, now that he was out of sight, she began to cry her eyes out. Although he had basically promised her that she would be okay, he had also assured her that Malek was going to die. If that was the case, she didn’t even care anymore whether she lived. She couldn’t see herself living without Malek.

  What am I going to do? she asked herself.

  She could feel herself hyper ventilating. With each forced breath, her heart hurt tremendously. She could feel the pit of emptiness expanding in her stomach. She wanted to scream for help, but knew better than to test Mitch. Still, she couldn’t just sit there knowing that her baby’s father was about to be introduced to death. She had to do something. She had to make a move. Everyone else seemed to have a plan; now it was time for her to come up with one of her own.

  Chapter Two

  Malek breathed heavily and his palms began to sweat profusely. He watched closely as the other people in the bank casually tended to their business all around him, not knowing what was in store for them. He began to fill out a deposit slip under a fake name as he tried to look composed. He took a deep breath and thought, It’s all or nothing.

  With that simple thought, he erased any hesitation that dwelled in his heart. He couldn’t turn back. The survival of Halleigh and the child she was carrying in her womb depended on it.

  Malek looked around, inconspicuously casing out the place. The bank was small, but under high surveillance. Malek had scoped out the cameras in each corner of the lobby and also the ones that were pointed directly at the tellers’ drawers. He also took glance at the medium-built, middle-aged white security guard who stood in the corner. He wasn’t just a flashlight security guard either. This guy had a black .45 on his hip. Malek noticed the guard touch it every so often, patting it to make sure it was there. He was most likely a police officer moonlighting.

  Malek noted the overzealous look in the security guard’s eyes, as if he’d been on the job for so many years just waiting for something to jump off. He knew that the security guard wanted to be a hero. He was just waiting for the opportunity to pull that gun from the holster and shoot it, so Malek knew that if anything went wrong with his plan, the guard would be a problem.

  The guard kept a watchful eye on the bank’s patrons, still patting that damn gun as if it was a magnet and his hand was metal. Malek knew he was taking penitentiary chances by sticking up a bank, but the only thing on his mind was getting Halleigh’s ransom. He clenched his jaws and gripped the pen tightly as he thought about Halleigh probably being tied up somewhere, hoping he would come for her, or even worse, giving up on him completely for not being there to prevent it all from happening in the first place.

  Malek’s eyes began to water. The guilt felt like a ton of bricks on his shoulders. He knew that it was his responsibility to protect Halleigh and his unborn child, and he had failed. What was like salt in the wound was that this wasn’t even the first time he’d failed her. What type of husband and father would he make if he couldn’t keep his family safe?

  The fact that Mitch had taken his most prized possession had Malek questioning his manhood. How could I have let this happen ? he chastised himself.

  Malek glanced at the door as Scratch stumbled into the bank acting drunk off his ass. In actuality, Scratch was as sober as a preacher on Easter. His demeanor was all a part of Malek’s plan.

  Scratch was to cause a distraction and draw the attention of the security guard while Malek robbed the place. As long as Scratch stayed in character, Malek felt like it was all a sure thing.

  Scratch was staggering and talking loud. He held a brown paper bag in his hand. At first sight, it would look like was holding a 40-ounce beer bottle, but the true content of the bag was a pistol. Scratch’s finger was already wrapped around the trigger. He was prepared to shoot, just in case h
e needed to clear a way for them to exit.

  Just as planned, the guard immediately motioned toward Scratch, and that’s when Malek headed to the first open teller in sight.

  Malek’s fitted cap was pulled low over his eyes, only showing the bottom portion of his face. He took a deep breath and walked in front of the teller, whose eyes were focused on the ruckus by the bank’s entrance.

  “Where in the hell is the manager?” Scratch yelled. By now everyone in the bank was looking at Scratch. “My damn ATM card just got stuck and I want my damn money!” he yelled, standing in the middle of the lobby, swaying back and forth as if he couldn’t keep his balance. “I’m almost out of my drinky-drinky,” he explained, “and I needs my money to gets some more.”

  While Scratch played his part to the nines, Malek approached the female bank teller. He was so high on his own adrenaline that he felt as if he would throw up; but he still pushed forward. Malek reached into his hoodie pocket and slowly placed the chrome .45 on the counter, his finger on the trigger.

  Finally pulling her attention away from Scratch, the teller attempted to greet Malek. “How are you to—” She stopped mid-sentence after she glanced down and noticed the pistol pointed directly at her midsection.

  She flinched and put her hand on her chest. “Oh my God,” she whispered as her breathing became shallow.

  “Just relax and keep your cool,” Malek instructed in a low tone. “You know what time it is. And if you try anything funny, I’ma have to push yo’ shit back, okay?” Malek asked in the most subtle voice he could muster.

  The teller simply nodded her head in fear. She was too afraid and in shock to do anything other than that as she stared down at the gun, praying and hoping that it stayed right there in its place.

  “Now, I want you to give me the unmarked bills in your drawer,” Malek instructed. “Put them in that big envelope right there.” Malek pointed to a money deposit envelope that was among many stored behind the teller. It was the type of leather pouch that businesses used to make deposits. “Give me all hundreds and fifties, ma” Malek cocked the gun. “And if you even think about triggering the silent alarm, I’m going to make sure you’re the first person I kill before the police get here.”