Enemy of My Enemy Is a Friend

Chapter one

 

Art, Jerome, and Mitch we're sitting in Ant’s Living room on a spacious black leather sectional playing PlayStation 2. This was an everyday routine. Except for today they were meeting to discuss something that was extremely important, according to Ant. Leaving each man wondering what was so important. They had been in the house for about an hour now, and the only time they saw Ant was when he opened the door to let them in. Since then, he had been in the back arguing with his pregnant girlfriend Jameka, which also seemed like an everyday routine. That is, since she got pregnant, which caused her to be extremely jealous and emotional.  She often took it out on all of them. She was cool peoples, plus she was fine as hell. Dark skin, hazel eyes, and long black hair that came to the center of her back. Plus, a body to kill for, which Ant had tried to do on several occasions. Being niggas always stepped to her. An` when she brushed them off, as if they were just dust on her shoulder, which left their egos bruised. Causing them to react with disrespect which Ant wasn't having. Often leading to many fights, even shoot outs. That was cool with the clique, cause that's the type of shit that they lived for drama. Earning the name which, they went by in the street. Dramacyde.

 “Touchdown nigga!” Mitch shouted making the score 28 to 7.

“You keep on doing that same corny play.” Jerome sneered.

 “If it's so corny then stop it then. Oh yeah you can't, might as well pay me my $20 now.”

 “Nigga, fuck you and this game” Jerome said turning the game off.

 “That's forfeit, which is the same as a loss. So, pay up.” Mitch said holding out his hand.

 “I ain't paying you shit we didn't finish.” Jerome snapped.

 “We finished when you turned the game off, and you're gonna pay me.” Mitch fired back.

“Git it how you live.” Jerome said standing up.

“Ain’t no bitch in me, and you know how I live.” Mitch responded as he also stood up.

 Both men stood facing each other waiting for the other to make his move. It was no secret that the two men didn’t get along an only tolerated each other on the strength of Ant and Art. Art and Ant had been close since elementary school. Creating a bond stronger than brothers. Mitch and Jerome came along in Junior High years. Since that time all four had been inseparable. Even still, friction existed between the two. The reason was unknown.

“Y’all niggas always arguing about the simplest shit.” Art yelled, getting up to stand between the two. “J you lost so pay the man, if you were winning you would have wanted your money. If you can’t lose with dignity, then don’t gamble.” Art said meeting Jerome's stare.  Art was smaller than the two of them but what he lacked in size he made up for with viciousness other than Ant, Art was the most feared of the four so when he spoke people listened or learned the hard way. Looking away Jerome went in his pocket and peeled a 20 off his bank roll balled it up and threw it at Mitch.

“Take your punk ass money “Jerome said sitting down. Mitch caught the money unballed it and put the $20 in his pocket then sat down. Art looked at the two, shook his head as he sat back down. Pulling a bag of weed out of his pocket he emptied the contents on the table and stated to break the weed down. Once the weed was free from stems, he rolled it in a sour apple wrap. Licking it closed, he reached for the lighter on the table. Burning the blunt dry, he lit it up taking a long pull. Letting the weed fill his lungs until he felt the effects as the three men sat in silence.

     The mood was broken when Jameka stormed from the backroom. Without saying a word she snatched the car keys off the coffee table looked at the three men rolled her eyes and stormed out the front door. Slamming it hard enough to shake the whole room. Shortly after Ant came in the room with the somber look on his face.

“Let me hit that”. He said reaching for the blunt which Art handed him already knowing his homie was upset.

 “What was that all about?” Art asked.

 “You know that girl stay trippin. I can't wait till she has that damn baby so she can calm the fuck down.” Ant said shaking his head.

 “Better you then me “Mitch laughed.

“Nigga fuck you “Ant replied.

 “Naw nigga that’s what got you in this situation. Always fucking somebody.” causing the men to laugh, lifting the mood.

 Changing the subject

 “So what was so important that you had to tell us.” Art asked. Making everyone focus their attention on Ant. Realizing that the moment to lay all the cards on the table was here. He proceeded to let his niggas in on his idea.

“Yall know that nigga Shawn that be selling dope on Willis St?” Ant said looking at them.

“Yeah, we know him, What about him?” Jerome asked.

“Well word is he holding on to some major paper from a reliable source. I heard he’s in the mid six figures. "Ant paused to let that information sink in.

 “Yeah, so what's your point?” Art said already knowing where this conversation was heading.

“Yall all know that nigga Shawn a bitch, So I think it's time that nigga pay his dues.” Ant said matter of factly.

“What you wanna do? Rob him or something.” Mitch asked.

“Thats exactly what I wanna do.  What up, yall wit it?” Ant asked looking at each man in the eyes.

“Shit I'm wit it.” Jerome said.

“Im down” Mitch replied.

 “So how we gonna hit this nigga.” Art asked not having to say whether he was down or not. It was automatic that he was with it. Ant smiled, knowing his homies was riders and would roll with him wrong or right in any situation. Satisfied with their responses he proceeded to lay out the plan.

 

 

LATER THAT NIGHT

CHAPTER 2

The four men pulled up to the curb in front of an abandoned house on Delason Ave which was  the next street over from Willis St. In a stolen Chevy Lumina. Shutting off the car, each man sat in silence as Ant proceeded to lay out how they were going to hit the house.

“ The house is secure and he serves through a hole in one of the windows that’s boarded up on the side of the house. He knows me so I'm gonna go to the window like I'm going to buy. While I distract him, ya’ll are gonna creep around the side of the house to the basement window that's closest to the street it should be open.”

 “How do you know it's open” Mitch asked.

 Ant just looked at him with a look that said “shut the fuck up” then continued.

“It should be open, y'all crawl through the window get upstairs and catch the nigga by surprise. Qnce he secured let me in. We find the dope and money and vanish. Since he will see my face y'all know his fate?”

Every man shakes his head, understanding that Shawn was not supposed to live.

 “Y'all ready? “ Ant asked.

 As an answer, the men started to get out the car. They walked through the pathway that placed them in Shawn's backyard. Staying in the shadows Art, Mitch, and Jerome creeped around to the side of the house while Ant walked to the other side and knocked on the door.

“ Yo who that?” A voice said through the slot that Ant recognizes as Shawn.

“It's me nigga!” Ant said in a cheerful manner to relax the man from his defensive approach.

“What's up, Ant? What you need?” Shawn said.

“Man it's been booming up my way, and I heard you got onions for $1150. I need two of those.” Ant said

 Yeah I got oz, but the ticket is 1200. Since you getting two, I'll let them go for 2300?”

“That's cool. You got any weed in there? I also need something to smoke on. Stop me from making another trip, especially with this dope on me.” Ant said. More as a stall tactic than anything else.

“Yeah I got some weed. It's a personal sack, but I'll sell you an eighth. Is that cool?” Shawn asked.

“Yeah that'll work.” Ant said, when he heard a commotion in the house followed by Art coming to the window. “ What you looking to buy?” he said smiling.

“Nigga, open the fuckin door and quit playing.” Ant said laughing to himself at how the nigga Art could have fun in a situation like this with his crazy ass. Art came down the stairs and let Ant in the side door.  “Where that nigga at? "Ant said coming in the house.

“He in the front room.” Art said.

BOOM!

“Ahh shit. What was that?” Ant said. Both the men raced up the stairs into the front room. As they entered the front room.  They saw Shawn lying face down on the floor.

“What the hell you shoot him for?” Mitch said shoving Jerome

 “He was moving. I told him to be still. "Jerome said nonchalantly.

 “You stupid motherfucker! Now how are we gonna find the dope?  “Mitch yelled.

 “I'm not gonna be too many stupid motherfuckers” Jerome shouted.

“Nigga fuck you” Mitch responded

“Nah Fuck you!”  With that both men lifted their guns and aimed at each other. Ant walked up and placed his hands on each of their guns and gently lowered them

“Fuck that nigga.” He said to Jerome. “It might take a little longer than expected. We just gotta look for it.” He said turning to look at Mitch.

 Mitch an Jerome stared at each other a moment longer before going off in separate directions to look for the dope an money. Ant looked at Art and shook his head.

 “Them niggas stay on some bullshit. You should have let them shoot each other.” Art said. Getting tired of them niggas always arguing.

“Dem niggas are family. We can't let them go out like that. Come on let's find this shit and get the fuck out of here.” Ant said as he proceeded to tear apart the front room. Starting with the leather sectional pulling a small paring knife out of his pocket, he slashed the pillows looking to see if anything was stashed inside. Finding nothing he started to search the coffee tables when something in the corner of the couch caught his eye. With further inspection in the corner of the couch between the cracks and the frame, he saw a strap. Pulling the strap, he saw was connected to a duffel bag. Cutting the bottom of the couch nestled in the frame was a black duffel bag. Pulling it out he opened it up inside was neatly wrapped bundles of $100 and $50 bills.

“Bingo!” He said to himself. When Ant turned around getting ready to alert his homies on his find. He found himself staring into the eyes of Shawn, who was still laying on the floor. In his hand he had a chrome 9 mm, which was now pointed at him. Slipping, Ant tried to reach for his gun that he had tucked into his waist which was a useless attempt. As soon as he made his move Shawn squeezed the trigger BOC!

Hitting Ant in the stomach causing him to collapse to the floor.  Hearing the gunshot all three men rushed into the room Art was the first to arrive with his gun drawn. Seeing the situation, he let off six shots all hitting Shawn in the head and upper body leaving him lifeless. Making sure that Shawn was dead, he then raced over to his fallen comrade. Ant was curled in the fetal position and by the look on his face one could tell he was in severe pain. Turning him over. Art saw that Ant had been shot in the stomach and the wound was bleeding bad. Turning back to Jerome and Mitch.

“Yoo, one of y'all go get the car. We got to get him to the hospital quick.” Art said.

 Jerome turned and raced out the side door to go retrieve the car.

“Ahhh!! This shit hurt!! Ant yelled.

 “Hold on man. We gonna get you help.” Art said as he cradled his friend.

 “Yo Mitch, help me get him outside so we can be ready when Jerome gets here.” Art said, snapping Mitch out of his daze, he helped Art lift Ant. They slowly carried Ant outside and down the driveway. By the time they made it to the front of the house, Jerome was pulling up. Jumping out of the car he ran around and opened the door as Mitch and Art laid Ant across the back seat. Jerome jumped back in the driver seat, Mitch jumped in the passenger seat, and Art rolled in the back with Ant. This was a situation that none of the men have ever faced before. Sure, they have shot and even killed before but never had they thought that it could happen to one of them. Which left them in the state of panic and confusion. As they listen to their closest friend scream in pain as he slowly bled to death. Ten long minutes later they pulled into the emergency entrance of St. Elizabeth Hospital. Honking the horn as they came to a stop in front of the double doors. Jumping out of the car they yelled for help. Nurses came running out looking in the back seat the medical staff immediately went to work. At this point Art, Mitch, and Jerome stood by and watched as they placed Ant on a stretcher and wheeled him inside.

 “Hey, we gotta go.” Art whispered.

“We can't just leave him like this” Mitch pleaded.”

“If we stay here the police are going to ask questions which will only land us in jail. We can't help him now, he's in good hands.” Art said sadly.

 Seeing his point, they ran away amid confusion unnoticed.

 

 

Chapter 3

Art sat quietly in the driver seat of his Pearl white 98 Cadillac Sedan Deville thinking how he was going to break the news to Jameka. His car was parked in front of Ant's apartment. He knew Jameka was home because Ant’s Chevy was in the driveway. He had been sitting in front of the apartment for about 30 minutes none of the men saying so much of two words still in shock from the event of the past couple hours.

Deciding that the time was now, He opened his car door and proceeded to make his way to the front door. Once there, he knocked lightly. After a few seconds he heard Jameka's voice on the other side. He could tell she wasn't standing close to the door, something that Ant told her never to do and only answer the door for Art, Jerome, or Mitch. Anyone else send them on their way.

 “Jameka open up it's me.” He yelled, so she can hear him. Recognizing his voice, Jameka came close to the door and looked out the small glass window to make sure. Once certain it was Art, she opened the door.

“I know that nigga ain't send you over here to” she stopped suddenly looking from Art’s face then to his blood-stained clothes.

“Where's Ant, Art” she said looking him in his face.

 “Jameka Ant’s been shot.”Art said with his head down.

 “NOOOOOO!” she screamed falling to the floor. Art reached down and tried to pick her up by her arm, but she pulled away from him.

“Jameka come on, you must pull yourself together. Let’s to go to the hospital, you know Ant’s a warrior he's gonna be fine.” Art said reaching for her

” I told him not to go I told him not to go!” She screamed. Getting a good grip on her arms. Art proceeded to lift her slowly to her feet. Holding her tightly he continued to confront her. Suddenly her grief turned to anger.

 “How could you let him get shot! You were supposed to watch his back.” she yelled as she started to punch him repeatedly in his chest. He grabbed her wrist to stop her from hitting him.

“Get off of me.” She yelled, as she tried to snatch away. Then she suddenly stopped and grabbed her stomach.

 “What's the matter?” Art asked seeing the pain look on her face. They both look down at the same time seeing that her pants were soaked causing a small puddle to form at her feet. “ I'm going into labor.”Jameka said with wide eyes.

“DAMN” Art said wondering to himself what else could possibly happen. “Come on, let's get you to the hospital.” Grabbing her by the arm leading her to the car. He had the pause twice, being Jameka broke down because the contractions were coming back-to-back. Setting her in the back seat not paying attention to the blood and water that was getting on his seat. Running back to the front door he locked it and made sure everything was secure. Once he had the house locked up tight, he ran to the driver side of his car jumped in and sped to the hospital.

 

 

Chapter 4

Coming to a screeching halt for the second time in less than two hours in front of the emergency. Instead of St. Elizabeth Hospital this was Northside Children's Hospital. Art honked the horn frantically until he received assistance which came in the form of three nurses. As if knowing the severity of the situation they brought with them a Gurney. Looking inside the car seeing Jameka in the back seat in pain holding her stomach promoted them into action. Working with the efficiency of a trained medical team the nurses broke off into different roles to better assist the patient. One took vitals, one made preparations while the other with Art helped assist Jameka into getting comfortable on the gurney as much as possible for someone in her condition could be. Once everything was in order they made their way to the elevators, heading to the maternity ward with Art holding Jameka's hand the whole way.

 The next two hours went by in a blur Art didn't know whether to pass out or throw up. He had seen some awful things in his life but none came close to seeing a woman give birth up close and personal. That moment made Art have a new respect for women. Having to go through all that pain to bring a new life into the world. Seeing this miracle is something he would never forget; it almost made him wish he was watching the birth of his child and not his best friends. But that wasn't the case so on 2:30 AM March 10th Anthony junior came into the world kicking and screaming. At that same moment Anthony senior departed this life on the operating table from a gunshot wound to the stomach.

 

 

Chapter 5

Lt. William Johnson walked out of the house which was the latest crime scene. Standing on the front porch he cleared his lungs of the toxic smell of death. A smell that hung in the air like a thick fog, clinging to everything it came in contact with. No matter how many times you experienced the sight or smell. One never gets used to it.

As he stood silently pondering over what he considered to be a robbery, which resulted in the death of yet another young black male. He grew frustrated because no matter how much he did to help in the community the killing seemed to only get more and more frequent as the days passed. And what were they killing for? Drugs? Money? Colors? It didn't matter, none of these things were worth the value of the human life. That's one of the reasons he became a cop. So, he can make a difference, make the streets safe for the hard-working citizens. So that they didn't have to live in fear in their own home. This is what drove him to work long hours with little or no rest pushing himself literally to the limits to solve case after case. That was the reason he told himself but everybody knew the real reason he worked himself so hard is because he couldn't save the streets from consuming the one person that mattered the most his brother.

Pulling him from his thoughts was the captain getting out of his car. Coming down off the porch he met the captain halfway on the front walk. They greeted each other with handshake. William who everybody called Billy for short and captain Charles Walker were good friends they had met about 10 years ago while they were in the Academy. Even though they had different rank among the force they both were good at what they did, and often shared the same views. Resulting in 70% overall arrest record when it comes to solving homicides.

"So, what's good?” the captain asked

“You already know, the same shit as always” Billy responded in a grave tone.

  “What do we have? “The captain asked referring to the crime scene.

“From the looks of it, it looks like a robbery gone bad. The vic's name is Sean Peters. He was pronounced dead on the scene from multiple gunshot wounds from at least two different guns”

 “What makes you say that?” the captain asked not doubting his judgment just wanting to know the reason.”

“The first shot was at close range and appeared to be a 9 mil, won't know for sure till we got the Ballistics back. That shot took place while the Vic was sitting. And from what I could tell he fell out of the chair he was in and lost consciousness and must have been presumed dead by the assailant. At that point they started looking for what they came for. Then the Vic regained consciousness pulled his gun and shot one of the perps causing one of the other perps to unleash at least six shots from what appeared or should be a 45 by how big the holes were. The perp that was shot dropped his gun; the techs are dusting for prints as we speak. He also appeared to be seriously injured by all the blood and by the dark color it appeared to be a gut shot. The place was ransacked and by the minimum amount of drugs and money I would say they got what they were looking for. There is also a lot of blood leading to the street where I presume, the getaway car was parked. And by the footprints in the blood, you can add another perk which makes the number at least 4, a driver, the wounded, and the two that carried him to the car.” Billy concluded while closing his notepad

 “Good work Lieutenant, is there anyone who saw anything?  Outside of the call reporting shots from the house, nothing.” The captain asked. A patrolman approached them.

" Lieutenant, captain” the policeman said greeting both men

“What's up?” They both responded at the same time.

 "I received a call saying that a young black male in his late teens just checked in the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital, I was told that the victim was shot in the stomach. He was dropped off by three other black males who disappeared in all the confusion leaving the car in the emergency entrance, which was reported stolen earlier today from a Walmart in Boardman. I waited to see what was going to be the outcome with the vic, which was not good he died on the table.” The patrol man stated

“Damn!” the captain said. Knowing the only lead in the case died with the young man in the hospital.” “Did you get a name?” Billy asked.

 "Yeah," The patrol man said, as he pulled out a notepad.” His name was Anthony Jones.” After hearing the name, Billy almost passed out. He kept his composure while thanking the patrolman who closed his notepad and left the scene. Knowing the name also, the captain asked. “Are you going to be alright?” “Yeah man. Fuck!!!” Billy yelled as he walked away.

 

 

Chapter 6

Five days later Rising Star Baptist Church is where the funeral was being held. The church used to be the Thornhill school until it was bought by the church. When the church first began it only used a small portion but now with its immensely growing congregation. The school has proven not to be big enough. And on this very day the church was filled to capacity. Filled with family and friends as well as spectators to send Anthony Jones to his final resting place. When Art entered the church, he was instantly overwhelmed with the feelings of uneasiness. He believed that there was a God, but he wasn't the one to put too much faith in religion. Life was what you made it and not proclaimed by the man upstairs as so many believed. And if there truly was a heaven or hell then his best friend who was laying in the casket was on his way to hell as he would be too when his day came. Being that the life he led was one of crime and violence. He knew deep down that he had a good heart, he just was trapped in a life that seemed destined for him. Throughout his life he had been hurt enough to become hardend to the elements that often plague a soft heart. Because of that he vowed never to be hurt by nothing or no one ever. That's one of the reasons as he walked towards the front of the church where his best friend lay. He didn't have a tear in his eyes, not because of lack of love, but the side effects to shutting down one's emotions as a defense mechanism an not being able to turn them back on. After enduring the long walk, he now stood in front of the silver and white casket that held his longtime and closest friend. He was dressed in a all white suit. If one didn't know better you would think that he was just sleeping peacefully. As Art stood in front of the casket, he thought of all the good times and all the things that they had been through together. It was like his life was flashing before his eyes and in every scene Ant was there. When he thought of Ant not being there anymore while standing in front of his now empty shell made him feel as if he was losing a part of himself. Swallowing the lump in his throat, He said his final goodbye and turned to walk away. When Art turned around, he faced the front row which seated Ant’s mother Mrs. Jones and Jameka holding little Ant. They both were looking at him through tear filled eyes. This was going the hardest of all facing them. As he walked towards Mrs. Jones she stood.

 “Mrs. Jones I'm sorry.”

SMACK!!!

 Before Art could complete his sentence, he was smacked across the face by the lady he was once closer to than his own mother.

 “How dare you come here, it's your fault my only son is laying there." She said with hate filled eyes. Art was speechless. Filled with hurt, shame, and most of all guilt. He bowed his head and slowly walked out of the church with all eyes on him. Most showed pity for him while the rest held contempt. He didn't care, because he also felt that he had let Ant down. He was supposed to have his back. Maybe they were right. It was his fault. Once outside Art reached in his pocket and pulled out an already freaked black n mild and lighted the cigar, he took a long and much needed pull. As he slowly exhaled the smoke, the church doors opened then closed behind him. Without even looking back he knew who was standing there.

"It's all my fault. " Art said as he took another pull off the cigar.

"That night." Jameka begin. “The reason me and Ant we're fighting. We were fighting because I didn't want him to go because I had this bad feeling. Like I knew he wasn't going to come back. So don't blame yourself. I know that y'all were best friends and that you would have done any and everything for him. "But it wasn't enough, was it? Ant ain't here no more, is he?" Art said as he turned around to face her. Jameka was standing there, looking like the Angel she was. Even in the all black. In her arms she held little Ant. He was sleeping with his thumb in his mouth which made Art smile because Ant as a grown ass man still sucked his thumb. Jameka looked down at her son and began to fuss over him fixing his hat and adjusting his clothes.

 "I named you his godfather, that's what Ant wanted" Jameka said without looking up. Art didn't say anything, he couldn't he just looked on. At that moment he vowed to watch over Lil Ant.

"Remember, that you are family and that I don't blame you for that night. I was upset. I knew that you had his back. God just had another plan. Well, I have to get back inside " Jameka said as she moved closer and kissed Art on the cheek.

" That cigar stink " She said as she waved her hand in front of her and the baby nose. Which caused her and Art to smile at the memory of her always complaining about them smoking black and mild’s in the house. As reality of the statement set in, that times like that were no more. A sad sadness suddenly washed over Jameka and she slowly turned and walked back inside the church.

 

 

Chapter 7

Art took a few more pulls of the black and mild before putting it out. Discarding the half-smoked mild in a nearby ashtray, he headed for his car. He intended to follow the family to the cemetery and watch from a distance as his best friend was laid to rest. As he approached his car, he was so deep in thought that he didn't notice a man sitting on the hood. Once he looked up, Art was staring into the face of his Big Brother. He was startled by the sudden appearance but recovered quickly. Not quick enough to go unnoticed by his older brother.

“I thought I smelled bacon" Art said in a smug voice. Him and his brother didn't get along, plus he wasn't in the mood due to the time and place of his brother's sudden appearance.

Billy let out a sigh. "Just because I'm a cop don't mean I'm not your brother. I came here to see if you were OK." Billy said with concern in his voice.

"I'm good. Thanks for asking. But what's the real reason you're here? " Knowing his brother all too well. "Why does it have to be another reason?" Billy said.

 "Are we really gonna play this game? Now? " Art said growing frustrated

 "Well since you asked so nice. Everybody knows that you and your two girlfriends meaning Jerome and Mitch were there with Ant. It's just a matter of time before they make the evidence say the same. And when they do, I will have to arrest you.” Billy said with regret in his voice.

"Yeah, I just bet. That would make your day, officer Walker. Sorry to bust your bubble, but we weren't there. It seems Ant made some new friends.” Art said in a composed voice, even though he was worried. The idea of being caught never crossed his mind.

 “We'll see." Billy said not believing him. “Well, you should leave town until this blow over, being that we're family and all. Consider this a warning." Billy said over his shoulder as he walked off.

Art watched his brother walk off shooting daggers at his back. When him and his brother were younger, they were so close being that they were only four years apart. They did everything together period until Billy graduated from high school and then went to the marines. During that time Art started to be in the streets more causing him to do a small bit in ODYS and when he came home his brother was home which was supposed to be a good thing except, he was now a police officer. Which Art considered the ultimate betrayal. From then on the brothers were no longer close. So there was no doubt in Art’s mind that if a warrant was issued his brother would turn him in. Getting to his car he had already made up his mind. After his friend was laid to rest and he met up with Jay and Mitch to tell them the news he just heard and he was doing what his brother had advised, leave town.

 

 

Chapter 8

Five years later

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Art turned over with a grown and sluggishly reached over and pushed the button shutting off the alarm. It was 4:45 AM brushing the covers to the side he sat up. Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head resting on his hands he slowly gained his bearings. Once he was fully awake, he made his way to the bathroom with the slow drunken walk which would be better described as a stagger. Standing in front of the mirror looking at his lean frame which was chiseled and toned from the pull-ups and pushups he did on the daily. He looked into his sleepy eyes thinking to himself that it didn't make any damn sense that he had to get up this early in the morning. The reason he was up so early was that today he was starting his new job. At the age of 24 years old this was the first time he had ever worked a real job in his life. He wouldn't even have this job if it wasn't for his Aunt Linda. She got him this job being he had just come back to town after being gone for five years. He left town right after his best friend's funeral. At that time his life was getting too complicated, and he felt it was best to get away. He had a nice little bit of cash plus the police were looking to question him about his involvement in his friend and another man's death. So, he felt it was best if he got out of sight until things cooled down. He only planned on being gone for a little while, but it turned into five years. When he left, he moved to Atlanta. While he was down there, he ended up falling for a girl by the name of Yolanda. She seemed like the perfect girl for him. Come to find out she was a local slut.  By him being an out of towner it took him a while to find out. One day while he was in the streets getting money, task force decided to make some sweeps. So he shut down shop and came home early. Only to find Yolanda on the living room floor with not one but two niggas getting her brains fucked out. Instead of killing all three which was his first thought, he decided to

pack his shit, clean out his safe, plus the niggas two pockets, and jump on the highway for home. Fuck Atlanta. He did have a good run while it lasted, plus he had a nice bit of change stacked up

    After getting dressed he admired himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his bedroom door. He had to laugh at himself and his work uniform. Who would have thought that Art of all people would have a job working at a Correctional Facility?  If anything, he would have been expected to be locked in one. His uniform consisted of a white button-down shirt with the flag on the upper right sleeve and a correction shield on the upper left sleeve a pair of light gray pants with a Black Hat. He wasn't a CEO that would have been too much, he worked as a food coordinator which wasn't all that bad plus the pay was good. He didn't really need the money, being he had a lot of money saved up,  but the money was dirty. Having a job would place him all the way under the radar. Also, his aunt Linda hooked him up with the nice apartment and since she was the deputy warden at the prison, she hooked him up with the job. His Aunt was always looking out for him doing everything in her power to keep him out of the streets so he felt the least he could do was give the legit life a try.

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Shannon looked in the mirror at her reflection and couldn't help but to be disgusted. Not at how she looked but at what she saw. At 25 years old she was what many men would call gorgeous. She stood about 5-5, cinnamon complexion, petite with curves in all the right places, long hair, and the prettiest brown eyes. What caused her disgust was the dark circles that were under her eyes from many long stressful nights of dealing with her abusive husband of three years. The fights usually stayed limited to heated arguments, but as of lately they went a step further with him putting his hands on her. Which was evident by the hand prints he on her neck. The bruises took on a deep purplish hue in contrast to her soft brown complexion. As she looked in the mirror she zoned out to when times were better between her and her husband. They had met four years ago when she was fresh out of college working as a rehabilitation career and development counselor at the Mahoney County jail. At that time Chauncey Dixon was a rookie police officer for the YPD. How they came to meet was one day as she was signing out getting ready to go home after a long day. Chauncey came walking around the corner, he had just dropped off a guy to be locked up for an old warrant that he had pulled over on a routine traffic stop. When she first saw him, it wasn't like she was seeing stars or anything of that nature. He did have a certain swagger about him, so when he asked her for her number. She obliged, which followed by more light conversations than dinner.  From that point on, they were inseparable which soon led to them getting married, despite the protests of many members of her family. Who thought that Chauncey had a dark side, even though he was always nice to them. In her eyes he was kind of sweet and caring. That was until recently, to be more specific since he got promoted to lead officer over this new squad known as the V- G.R.I.P, which stood for violence gun reduction introvention program. Which gave him a chip on his shoulder, that everyone was beneath him which even included her. Snapping back to reality, she let out a frustrated sigh causing the foundation to smear that she put on to cover up the bruises. Slamming the compact on the bathroom sink , she stormed into the adjoining master bedroom to change his shirt. Going to the closet she shifted through the many clothes until she came across a turtleneck. She realized it would do the trick, but being it was in the mid-70s outside she would still look suspicious. She had little choice in the matter. She slid with the sheer white blouse over her head careful not to mess up her hair and replaced it with the powder blue turtleneck. Stepping back closing the closet, she looked into the full length mirror hanging on the door. Looking closely she still could see the bruises. But only if inspected with the careful eye, which she would avoid anyone doing. If she stayed moving which was going to be hard. Being she was a counselor at a prison, and a looker as she was known to be, close inspection is what she got all day. She had no choice but to try. She had no more sick days being she used them all up for the same very reason. Cursing her husband for making her halft to go through this, she grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door off to work realizing she was already running late.