Page 67

“Where the fuck is everybody?” I mumbled as I walked over toward the main house. The majority of my workers lived on the property, and I was fine with it. It made it easier for me to harvest my plants for my drugs. “Somebody is getting… fired.”

As I entered the house, my words stalled in my throat at the sight of all the dead bodies. Sprawled over the furniture, dropped in the middle of the floor, hanging off the counters and stair railing, there were at least twenty people dead.

“This is just the lower level,” Ralph sounded from behind me. Glancing over at him, I could see the tears in his eyes as he looked around. When his eyes landed on one spot in particular, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat moments ago. His wife and son were lying on the kitchen counter, her holding him as if she thought that would save him from the bullets that had ripped through his torso. “There are more bodies upstairs as well as in the guest house. Children and dogs included.”

“Fuck…” I mumbled as I ran back outside, throwing up all I had eaten earlier today. “Fuck, man.”

“Yeah, fuck is right.” He came back on the porch with fire in his eyes. “My family is dead, and the fields are ruined, and for what? A woman who never even wanted you? Because your father left and never came back? Who’s to say the nigga is dead…” He walked over and pushed me, causing me to stumble. “All of this… for what? Fuck you, Chandler! Fuck you and your father! This is because of you!”

Listening to him curse my family’s name did something to me. For my entire life, I made sure he was well taken care of. How dare he forget that? How dare he be ungrateful when I’m the reason all of these degenerates ate?

Pow! Pow! Pow!

Shooting him in the face three times, I watched as his body hit the ground. One thing I wouldn’t tolerate was disrespect from anyone. I had enough on my plate. If my best friend of twenty years wanted to turn his back on me, he could join his family.

Walking to the back of the house where the fields began, I couldn’t help but wonder how my entire staff in Haiti was massacred. Was it Rosier? I knew it was him because that Mills nigga didn’t have that type of pull. Then again, the cryptic messages and photos about my buildings said otherwise. Had I underestimated him? My heart thumped rapidly as I thought about the possibility of biting off more than I could chew. All thoughts of regret slipped my mind as soon as they came when I laid eyes on my barren fields.

“Nooo!” I screamed into the emptiness of the afternoon sky. “What the fuck?!”

Running from row to row, I looked on as all of my coca and marijuana plants withered away, completely destroyed. Dropping to my knees, I grabbed a fistful of soil and gagged at the smell—pesticides, herbicides, vinegar, and salt. Swiveling my head from side to side, I screamed as my entire field appeared to be demolished. There was no need to ask who had done this. In my mind, I already knew. Jumping up, I ran back to Ralph’s truck. I needed to get the fuck out of here. Jumping inside, I fumbled with the keys to turn the ignition. Placing my hand on the gear to shift, the coolness of a barrel on my temple caused me to pause.

“Hello, husband…” I tugged my eyes to the rearview mirror, locking them with a beautiful and smiling Noemi. “I think it’s time to talk about a divorce.”

Fueled with fury, I turned to try and grab her from the back seat, but a blow to the head stopped me. Dazed, I looked around and noticed she wasn’t alone. To the side of her was none other than Jordan Mills. Hearing her soft giggles, my vision began to blur as I laid eyes on her again.

“Be nice, Chandler…” She bit her bottom lip before pulling him into her for a kiss. “My man doesn’t play about me.”

Before I could respond, the barrel of a gun hit my temple once more, causing everything to go black.

“I’m saying, Noemi… you could have called that nigga a bitch before calling him your husband. Let me find out you like his ass.” Groaning from the pounding of my head, I tried my best to pry my eyes open. I could hear Noemi’s giggles like the man speaking had told the joke of the year. “I’ma see if it’s funny when I giveyour husbanda live show of me dropping dick off in you.”

“Fuck you, nigga,” I grunted out the words as my eyes struggled to open. When they did finally part wide enough, their blurry faces came into view. “Untie me and watch what I do, muthafucka.”

Mugging my wife as she straddled Skip, I watched as he tapped her thigh for her to move. Not wanting to, he gripped her neck and tongued her down so deeply that even I had to look away. Looking around, I noticed that they had brought me back to my home, and we were still in Haiti.

“Shit...” she moaned and squirmed in his lap. “Don’t start nothing you can’t finish, Jordan.”

“You know damn well that if I can’t do nothing else, I can make that pussy cream.” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he gripped her ass. “Give me an hour, and I’m going to show you.”

Blushing, she scooted from his lap and stood in front of him. Her eyes zeroed in on the tent in his shorts, and that pissed me off. She was in here acting as if I wasn’t sitting here. The disrespect she’d shown me had been astronomical.

“Get the fuck away from her!” I bellowed, causing them both to glance my way. “I’m going to kill you, nigga.”

Rocking back and forth in the chair, I tried my best to loosen the ropes he’d tied me with. His laughing only increased my anger. I could see Noemi becoming irritated as well, and that warmed my darkened heart some.

“Okay, Jordan… maybe we should leave well enough alone.” She sighed before stepping between us. “This has gone on long enough. Honestly, can you give Chandler and me a minute to talk?”

“Talk about what?” he said, jerking his head to look at her. “It ain’t shit to talk about. He’s about to die, and you belong to me, Mi.”

“He’s still my husband!” she shouted, exasperated. “It’s fucked up how I did him, and I owe him an explanation. We’re still bound together under God.”

Looking back and forth between us, I smirked at his irritation. That was one thing that he couldn’t deny. This girl was Mrs. Gourneau. No matter what he and she had going on, she was still my fucking wife.

“Fine!” He threw his hands back and glared at her. “All of a sudden, you want to be a wife to that nigga, but you were just a hoe for me when you was taking this dick.” He dragged his eyesto me. “I don’t give a fuck what she tells you, you’re dying here today.”

“We’ll see.” I grinned and winked as he left the room, leaving us. Fidgeting, she averted her eyes from me. That wasn’t going to do. “Noemi…”

“I know you want to talk, Chandler.” She sighed heavily, bringing those pretty eyes to me.