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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or organizations, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2007 Brandon McCalla

  ISBN: 0979281628

  Edited by Anthony Whyte

  Design: Sublime Visuals

  Photogaphy: Jason Claiborne & Sanyi Gomez

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For further information contact Augustus Publishing

  First printing Augustus Publishing paperback October 2007

  AugustusPublishing.com

  [email protected]

  Contents

  Warning

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  WARNING

  This book ain’t for punks!

  This for my gangsta women, those who stood by me in my Hip Hop fiction struggle. I write in so many different genres and have positioned myself at times more distinctively than this fiction world deserves. Most don’t care about diversity or the difference, me I try to make a difference and appreciate diversity.

  This book is for the ladies who stood by me in this. This is for Deesha Latoya my special vixen from St. Louis, for Yanta my west coast shorty and for my southern peer the author Danielle Santiago. This is for my forever publicist Nakea Murray, for Virgo, who has always put up a good fight and for Quana, the dame who got most of the manuscripts I’ve written when they were but a fetus.

  This is for Sonia the woman who definitely would ride or die for me if I was riding and prepared to die, this is for my peer and fellow author Kashan who is gangsta enough to curse me out, hang up on me and call me right back just to curse me out and hang up again, and this is for Kim because I went to see her in the hospital and she recovered real quick because she’s a strong bitch. I use the word bitch loosely but only in jest and for fun. None of you are bitch’s, you are all lovely black women, beautiful women with beautiful minds.

  What up Vickie Stringer, Noire, Anna J, Carla Dean, the ever so lovely Nneka, Theresa, my best friend Danni (I love you), Denise Campbell (I see you), Juwania, Natasha my book mistress, Lenaise Williams (stop doing nasty stuff on the cam!), KaShamba Williams!!!, my MOMS!!!, Monique Patterson!!!, Candace Cottrell, Delonya, Azarel!!!, Brenda Thomas, Dawn (Philly), and Tanya Nunez.

  We got Vashni and Vee and all the lovely ladies all over the world in Borders and Walden’s book stores, and every Barnes n Nobles with an urban book section and a hot looking cashier, what up!

  What up Milky! Let me shout out my cousin Wendy from Harrisburg Pennsylvania real quick. Deborah Smith!!!, Puerto Rican and journalistically wise and sexy Jackie (I’m gonna call you), my nieces Jade and Dorothy, Glamour and Crystal (C2C), Maxine, the beautiful Robyn Moffett (keep singing), the Queen of all media Wendy Williams!!!, Ericka, Frances, Seiko, Doreen, Sabrina, Olivia and Lorna!!!, Samantha, Zenobia, Audra, Angel, Shannon, Meisha (rep Brooklyn), BLUNT !!!(Kimberly), Shamora Lowe!!!, Shawnda Grundy (where are you Sha?), and my buddy Sherella.

  I didn’t forget about T.N. Baker, and my girl Tessa and Summer and Xanyell. I see you Tu!!! (Ex factor), Hadiya!!!, and Jazzie (where art thou Jazzie?), Karen Miller!!!

  Nards Baby!!!

  …Baby Girl (yeah you!), Chase (thank you for being a good reader), Rain (congradulations!!!), and Troublesome (stay in school!!!), and Trina (Intellectual’s), to every jump-off and pop-off who momentarily relieved my stress (you are appreciated)…

  Nikki Turner, what up, woman? Venetia Ward learn what patience and loyalty is and to the fans because I’m a fan of the fans. I love your fingers because they turn the pages of the book and keep turning them till there ain’t any pages left.

  I ain’t miss nobody because all of you are inside my head, thus if I didn’t mention you I’m thinking about you nonetheless, never doubt. I love all of you, the book clubs, C2C, Rawsistas, the Mahogany book club, As the page turns, everyone who blogs on to www.literaryhood.blogspot.com

  PROLOGUE

  The year was 1999. They left Brooklyn, New York at 11 o’clock at night, traveled for three hours reaching the south west side of Philadelphia Pennsylvania around 2 o’clock in the morning. Sabrina drove the red Ford Taurus, Dora Dean rode shotgun while Rayne and Bernadette were in the backseats. They had spent the trip joking around, listening to rap music and smoking weed. They piped down and got serious when they arrived at their destination.

  Dora Dean crouched low in her seat. Her feet were resting on the dashboard. She kept nodding off during the trip. Now Dora was wide awake and ready for whatever.

  Bernadette took the clip out of her gun and slapped it back in. She loved the sound loading a gun made.

  Rayne rolled up one leg of her pant and touched the handle of her .22 automatic pistol nestled in the ankle holster. It was her secondary weapon. She didn’t have a gun fetish like the rest of them. Rayne favored the long machete blade sitting on her lap. She preferred cutting and slicing above anything else.

  They slowly drove by the house and parked right across the street. Sabrina looked at Dora Dean and said, “This hood looks all quiet and shit, ain’t nobody outside. What sort of hood is this?”

  “What sort of hood do you want it to be bitch? You want a hood full of witnesses?” Dora snapped.

  “You got the key?” Sabrina asked.

  “What the fuck you think, I left that shit back in Brooklyn?” Dora asked reaching into her coat pocket and producing the key. “We fucked. He fell asleep. I got the front door key and went to the hardware store and made a copy, just like you told me to,” Dora said smiling at Sabrina. “This shit’s gonna be easy. What’s the matter?”

  Rayne laughed. Sabrina turned around and gave Rayne a ferocious stare. Rayne’s laughter ceased.

  “I ain’t scared, bitch. I’m just smart enough to be careful,” Sabrina said turning the lights off. She left the engine running and looked at the passengers in the backseats. “This is it. We’re gonna open the front door and soldier inside. If anyone’s home or tries to get gangsta, let em eat lead.” She looked over at Dora. “You said he keeps the money in a box that he stashes up under the kitchen sink?”

  “Yup…”

  “Does he roll wiht many nigga?” Sabrina questioned.

  “A lot of niggas and he holding a lot of money,” Dora smiled. “I told y’all we might have problems tonight. There might be three…four niggas with straps up in there. It’ll be worth it. That nigga be doing it. And a whole lot of money is under his sink.”

  Bernadette spoke with a coarse voice. “I know we went over this already but remember as soon as we go inside, me and Dora are gonna head straight to the kitchen. Sabrina you keep ’em niggas steady if they around. Anyone acts the fool…you start shooting.”

  “It ain’t like it won’t be the first time we killed some fucki
ng fool,” Rayne said to Sabrina. She reached under the seat for a double-barreled shotgun.

  “Give me my Dick,” Sabrina said when she saw it.

  Rayne handed her the shotgun and chuckled.

  A man and woman were walking down the sidewalk across the street. Sabrina eyed them cautiously until they were out of sight.

  “Rayne you stay in the car. We might have to run out so please keep your eyes on the door.”

  “Humph…” Rayne huffed and pouted.

  She didn’t want to be the getaway driver again. Rayne took immense pleasure from the violence. Dora was the best driver but she also knew the lay out of the crack house. Rayne didn’t. Rayne knew it made perfect sense for her to be the getaway driver.

  With her broad shoulders, Bernadette was the biggest out of all of the girls. She was a husky looking mean bitch. The dude always have them rowdy type niggas with him. If things got out of hand, she’d become very necessary. Sabrina wasn’t a good driver. Her skills were in her gun use. She wouldn’t hesitate blasting anyone.

  “Leave your doors open bitches,” Rayne said.

  “Good idea,” Sabrina said pulling the ski mask all the way over her face.

  Bernadette had a bandanna tied around the lower part of her face; revealing only her eyes. Her hair was cut short like a man. Dora pushed her hair back with a hand and then pulled a stocking down over her head.

  Sabrina check the shotgun in her hand, her Dick was erect and ready to bust off. Bernadette slapped the clip in the 9mm one last time, just to hear the sound of it. Dora pulled out her weapon, a 32. The three inched toward the house.

  It was early Saturday morning and winter. Few people hung outside in the cold. They were in the hood, the south west side of Philly, Sabrina felt things were too quiet. She figured someone was around and they just didn’t see them. It didn’t matter, this spot was gonna be rushed regardless.

  “Okay bitches, let’s do the damn thing.”

  one

  Rayne saw the way Sabrina was backing out of the house and immediately knew something was wrong. It was all in the way she was moving. Sabrina was staggering backwards and trying to reload her shotgun.

  Rayne heard gunshots coming from inside the house from across the street. She was about to hop right out the car and run in with her machete and pistol but had to stick with the plan. She was supposed to wait until they were all out of the house.

  Rayne saw Sabrina clutching her stomach and falling. Sabrina had been shot. Rayne opened the door and ran across the street. Bernadette was shooting at someone on the other side as she backed out the house.

  “We gotta get out of here,” she yelled. “Dora’s dead.”

  “What…?” Rayne shouted in exasperation. She clutched the machete and gun, confusion registered on her face.

  There was a glass-shattering explosion. One of the windows at the front of the house blew up. Bullets from a big gun rained out the window leaving Bernadette wet. Rayne screamed. She purposely dropped the machete while running towards the house. Clutching her .22 with both hands, Rayne fired in the direction of the window. Shots came back at Rayne. she dived down and hit the concrete. She scraped her hands badly and lost her gun.

  Sabrina ran to where Rayne was and knelt over her. Rayne saw the blood all over Sabrina. Most of it leaked from a hole around her stomach. The wound looked wicked.

  “Dora is dead,” Sabrina said in a weak voice.

  Rayne froze, caught up in disbelief. Bernadette had gotten shot right in front of her eyes. She grabbed Sabrina’s shotgun then started crawling across the front lawn closer to Bernadette. She watched in horror as another bullet tore though Bernadette’s left leg. Rayne quickly jumped up from crawling and began running to her.

  Finally she was at the front of the action, her hands bloody and sweating.

  The man shooting from the window made his way to the front door. Rayne wasn’t sure if Sabrina’s shotty was loaded or not but as soon as he came outside, Rayne let the shotgun rock. It was pure luck, Sabrina had reloaded.

  Her first shot missed dude, tearing off a portion of the door. He hesitated. Rayne let off another round before he could shoot. The bullet ripped through his chest. It blew a portion of his spine and whatever was inside his stomach out the other side of him.

  Rayne saw red, nothing but blood. She wasn’t sure what to do next. Dora was dead but she didn’t want to believe it. She would go in the house and find her.

  “Dora ain’t dead…!” She yelled.

  “Help me…” Rayne heard Bernadette’s feeble cry.

  Rayne was close to her. She looked at her friend and shuddered. Bernadette’s condition seemed to be worse than Sabrina.

  “I’m here,” Rayne said walking to her friend and kneeling down. She examined Bernadette and saw numerous bullet wounds.

  Rayne dropped the shotgun. Bernadette was big and tall, but Rayne managed to help her up. They tottered in the dark back to where Rayne had left Sabrina. She wasn’t there.

  A bright light hit Rayne directly in the face. She wanted to raise a hand to her face but couldn’t. Bernadette could barely walk and she didn’t dare let her go. Rayne wasn’t going to be able to keep this up much longer.

  The bright light came from the Taurus. Sabrina was driving and rolled to a stop. Rayne helped Bernadette into the backseat then she hopped into the passenger seat and closed the door. Sabrina was leaning with her head all the way back on the neck rest. Her eyes were closed, blood poured out of her.

  Rayne didn’t care who was in the house or if they’d come out shooting. Dora was dead. Rayne couldn’t stand to see anymore of her friends killed. She hopped out the car and ran to the driver’s side. Rayne pushed Sabrina with all of her strength onto the passenger seat. She gunned the car forward not caring where she was going.

  “What the fuck happened?” Rayne yelled. She jerked the steering wheel maneuvering out of the way of another speeding car. Rayne was driving on the opposite side of the road and may have collided with an oncoming vehicle if it wasn’t early morn.

  “What the fuck happened?” She repeated.

  “We fucked up big-time.” Bernadette said between pangs of pain searing through her. “Dora’s dead,” she managed to grunt before closing her eyes.

  “Fuck!” Rayne yelled.

  She didn’t know what to do or where to go. Rayne was driving on the opposite side of the road and decided to get on the right side. The car shook as it hit the divider in the road. Rayne remained in control.

  “You gotta find a hospital,” Bernadette worded to Rayne.

  Rayne glanced over at Sabrina. She appeared as if she was still breathing. She was way too scared to find out.

  “Can you check on Sabrina?” She asked Bernadette.

  Bernadette grimaced, moved closer and grabbed Sabrina roughly by the hair. Sabrina moaned.

  “The bitch’s alive,” Bernadette announced. Bernadette didn’t have feeling in her left leg anymore, but the bullet in her back was hurting like hell.

  “Find a hospital, Rayne,” Bernadette yelled.

  “I ain’t never been here before. I don’t know where nothing is,” Rayne shot back.

  A few minutes later, she spotted a road sign. They weren’t far from a hospital. Luck was on their side.

  “Thank God…” Rayne sighed.

  She drove the car to the hospital’s emergency area, hit the back of a parked EMS truck. Rayne stumbled out of the car. She saw one of the hospital’s security guards. He saw Rayne, the blood on the car and instantly knew that something was wrong.

  “Help us please!” Rayne yelled.

  She grabbed him by his shirt, clutched him until he forcefully pried her hands away.

  “My friends are inside the car.” She yelled. “They’ve been shot.”

  two

  Rayne raised her head up off the table. The detective came back into the room carrying a cup of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. The items had been requested by Rayne.

  Her emotions
were running like a faucet and her nerves were electrified like lightning. She was shaking uncontrollably and had no control of herself. Everything was crumbling down right in front of her. Rayne needed her medication. She virtually had no idea of where she was. Her mind needed stabilization. Rayne could’ve sworn she was just inside a cell. Rayne didn’t have a clear mind but she remembered someone asking if she wanted something, she told them coffee and cigarettes.

  Rayne wasn’t sure if Sabrina and Bernadette were alive or dead. The authorities had taken her into custody for questioning a couple hours after she arrived at the hospital. They found guns in the Taurus and put her under arrest. Now she was in desperate need of her medication.

  Rayne was handcuffed and fingerprinted. They ran her name through the computer. She was then placed in a cell where she lost her mind and couldn’t focus on anything. She couldn’t stand this anymore. She needed her medication and drifted off into a deep sleep. When Rayne woke up she was in an indiscrete room with an officer behind her. She was in cuffs. Rayne didn’t even remember getting roused from sleep or how she’d gotten out of the cell.

  The officer removed the cuffs and told her to sit at a table where there were two chairs on each side. Rayne was cuffed to the chair and the officer walked out. Rayne looked around not knowing whether things were happening the way she remembered them. She was still looking through eyes that saw only red, eyes that saw blood. Time was jumbled.

  “My name is detective Charles Burrows,” He said once he walked into the room. Rayne stared blankly at him. He was black and close-to-middle-age. “Do you want anything?” He asked.

  “I wanna be let out of here,” Rayne said looking mystified.

  The detective appeared amused, he laughed.

  “How about some coffee and cigarettes.” Rayne blurted at him.

  He walked out the room without another word. Came back in with what she wanted and sat down in the other chair. Rayne had finally put things together. Her eyes were leaking tears that just wouldn’t stop coming down. She reached for the pack of cigarettes with a shaking hand. Rayne saw a book of matches on the table and an ashtray. She moved the ashtray closer to her.