Читать книгу Karma III - Sabrina Eubanks - Страница 7

K eith couldn’t quite believe his recent run of pure unadulter-ated luck. Everything he’d envisioned since he first met Oscar Tirado had finally come to pass. They’d worked hard, he and Oscar, to get to the point Keith ended up reaching alone. He was vaguely rueful that Oscar hadn’t made it with him, but not very. After all, Keith never intended for him to. That’s why he gave him up to Tate and Troy Trinidad.

Oscar Tirado had been one of the dirtiest cops the NYPD had ever seen. Just like Cain and Ramsey, he’d been a highly decorated First Grade Detective, but he’d lived a double life for a long time.

Oscar had also been a drug dealing, money laundering, cop killer in his spare time. Cain and Ramsey had been instrumental in ending Oscar’s reign of terror, and Oscar hadn’t appreciated it when they’d brought him down. Keith hadn’t given Cain and Ramsey much thought. He’d dismissed them as minor, but important, figures in the cast of Oscar’s downfall. Mostly he’d just been glad that when the shit hit the fan, none of it was slung on him.

Keith might not have given Cain and Ramsey a second thought, but Oscar had obviously let revenge fester in his mind like a wound that wouldn’t get well. Oscar had gone into the joint looking for ways to get out. He’d been adamant that he’d never serve his full sentence, and he’d kept his lawyer very busy. Oscar sent his lawyer to the Feds to make a deal. Let him out and he’d hand them the Trinidad brothers on a silver platter. The Feds went for the deal. The fact that Cain and Ramsey were heading the sting was gravy for Oscar.

He’d finally get those assholes back for cutting his fun short.

Oscar decided to give the Trinidads a heads up about the sting to exact revenge on Cain and Ramsey. He called a meeting with them on the night he died. Keith had known the Trinidads and Oscar long enough to know that it would be fairly easy to gum up the works of that covert pow-wow by going against Oscar. Keith had taken his life in his hands by having the balls to fuck Oscar right in his face, but the hell with it. Keith could admit to himself that he was a greedy opportunist, who ultimately wanted everything for himself. That was the nature of the game, after all. To the victor goes the spoils, and he was going to make sure he was the last man standing.

It would be a long time before he forgot the look Oscar gave him when Keith informed Tate and Troy that Oscar had been solely responsible for bringing the heat down on them. That Oscar had his lawyer contact the Feds to get them to cut him a deal.

After cursing Keith to eternal damnation for his Judas kiss, Oscar started groveling. He knew Tate and Troy would never let him leave there alive. Tate had stood up at his desk and told Oscar, if he got on his knees, he’d think about it. Keith had never in his life seen a look as black as the one Tate got from Oscar.

Keith had to give Oscar credit. He was a tough bastard to the very end. He lifted his chin and spit right in Tate’s eye. “Fuck you, Tate. You’re gonna have to kill me, you son of a bitch!” he’d said, defiantly. Tate had used his handkerchief to wipe Oscar’s spit out of his eye, laughing with real humor, almost tickled. “I’d be delighted,” he’d said with a chuckle, “Oh Troy!”

Troy had leapt across Tate’s desk with his machete in his hand and taken Oscar’s head off before he could turn around. Also some shit Keith had never seen before. Oscar’s head hit the ground with a surprised look on its face and rolled between his feet. His body stood a little longer — jetting blood — then collapsed on the floor next to his severed head. Tate had tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket and looked at Keith. “Run if you want to live, before I change my mind,” he’d said — and he didn’t have to say it twice. Keith had high-tailed it out of there, but he was almost sure things would continue to work in his favor.

The sting was set to go down the following day. Keith knew the Trinidad brothers wouldn’t just lie down, give up, and go to jail. He also knew if Cain and Ramsey were the undercovers, Tate and Troy weren’t getting away. He personally might hate their guts, but their track record spoke for itself. Draco was going down. Keith had been certain that when the sun set the next day, Tate and Troy would no longer be among the living.

That was the way it turned out, of course. Both Tate and Troy were dead, but they hadn’t gone without a fight. They’d put a world of hurt on the opposition. Killed a bunch of cops and agents. They’d put the hurt on Ramsey’s big-mouthed ass, too. Keith heard they’d lost him a couple of times before he stabilized. Too bad. Before it was all over, Keith intended to make sure his slick ass wished he was dead — and he could blame arrogant-ass Lucas Cain for all his future trouble. He and Nicky.

Keith had been mildly upset to hear Nicky had gotten hurt. He did still care for her, but perhaps she’d gotten what she deserved.

She still had to pay for tossing his ass aside for the perfect Mr. Cain.

Keith clenched his teeth and swallowed like he tasted something awful. Lucas Cain. Keith’s hand curled into a fist and his lips went up in an unconscious sneer. Lucas Cain.

He’d hated that motherfucker since the academy. Hated his ass on sight. Conceited, swaggering, bastard. He thought he was the shit.

Thought he was the motherfucking man. Living in his goddamned fly-ass brownstone, pushing a fucking 500. He stole his woman.

Nicky.

No matter how he turned it over in his mind, Keith could not deal with that particular pile of bullshit. He couldn’t take it. It was like an atom bomb to his manhood. He frowned. Oscar had laughed at him — tried to say he should be glad it was Cain who’d taken his woman. Like that shit was supposed to make him feel better. Well, fuck Oscar’s dumb ass. He should have given more thought to what fell out of his mouth. That was one of the reasons his ass was dead.

Keith was not the one for taking shorts. Sooner or later he’d get your ass back.

Keith had more to get Cain back for than losing Nicky. He’d shamed him. Twice. He’d manhandled him once. Cain had thrown him out of that office on his ass so hard he’d skidded across the floor, everybody snickering and laughing. He’d embarrassed him in front of everybody. Then Cain had the balls to come to the place Keith was staying and kick his ass in his own hallway, like Keith wasn’t shit. Keith had never been in a fight where his feet actually left the ground. Nigga had tossed him like he was 5 years old.

Cain broke Keith’s nose … broke his finger … shattered his ego.

Ramsey provided the background music of humiliating laughter.

Cain moved so fast, he didn’t even give Keith the chance to fight back. Cain’s fists were like steel. He’d smashed his nose with one punch. Beat his ass … embarrassed him … stole his woman.

Keith wanted to hurt him bad. Needed to. Had to. He wasn’t trying to fight him, because he knew he would most likely lose. There were other ways to hurt Cain. Sometimes it was more fun to hit people where they lived. Keith was going to hit him low and where he could do the most damage. Right in the heart.

It had been six weeks since the sting had gone down. Ramsey —

as far as he knew — was still using a crutch, with his arm in a sling, and Nicky was using a cane for her shot leg. Both almost well, but still a bit incapacitated. Cain himself still had bandages on his arms.

Keith knew all this because he’d seen them. More than once. All congregated in Cain’s great room, having a real swell time. Nigga should keep his curtains closed.

Ramsey seemed to be doing his convalescing there, which made things easier for Keith. He could literally kill two birds with one stone. The easiest way to get to Cain was to hurt the people he cared the most about. That was the plan, but first Keith was going to serve Ramsey a heaping plate of tragedy and grief — with a side of guilt and humility. Keith cracked his knuckles. He’d teach that hyena to laugh at him. Fucking curly head pretty boy.

He turned his head and looked down the block. Keith started to watch the corner in earnest now. It was almost time for him to make his move. He watched the children pour out of the school and start to board the buses that were idling at the curb. Some were met by parents, others walked away in small groups, laughing and talking.

Keith stayed where he was and kept his vigil. Soon enough she came out. Keith looked at her intently and smiled to himself in apprecia-tion. He had to give Ramsey one thing. He sure didn’t mess around with ugly women.

His eyes followed her as she crossed the street and walked toward her car. Wow. She was beautiful. Medium height with dusky brown skin, and a head full of long, silky, dark hair that hung lushly down her back. She was wearing a white skirt and flat white sandals, with a gauzy summer blouse that draped modestly over the round curve of her expectant belly. It was an interesting shade of orange.

Tangerine, maybe. It made her skin look like it glowed. She carried two black canvas tote bags. One over her left shoulder and one in her right hand. She carried a small plant with pink flowers in her left

— probably all the stuff she’d acquired over the course of the school year, taking it home since this was one of the last days of school.

Keith walked discreetly to his car and started it up. He smiled. It was funny to him that people never knew when something like this was about to happen. He watched her take her time putting things in her car, pausing in a picture worthy moment of maternal bliss to pat her belly in protective indulgence and calm Ramsey’s kicking child.

She opened the door and got in, primly holding her skirt around her knees, then pulled off. Keith stuck a stick of gum in his mouth and followed her.

Yes, his luck had definitely been good as of late. Lissette Maldonado had practically fallen into his lap. He’d found out about her when the sting had first gone down and Ramsey and the rest of them were still in such fragile condition. This had been before Keith had gone AWOL and his character had started carrying a question mark.

He’d seen her come out of Ramsey’s room on more than one occasion Keith had asked around, looking to find out who she was. Keith had been impressed with the amount of women who’d left Ramsey’s room with tears rolling down their faces, but Ms.

Maldonado had been the only pregnant one. A few well-placed questions left him privy to the fact that she was, indeed, Ramsey’s girlfriend. He’d played his hand and tried to dig a little deeper with a woman who turned out to be his ex-wife, but she’d given him a lukewarm greeting, accepted his sympathies and effectively frosted him out. She was pretty, but that broad was so cold, she probably pissed ice cubes.

He didn’t need her anyway; after all, he had the lovely Lissette to exact his revenge on. Cain was the ultimate target of Keith’s retribution, but he owed Ramsey his share of humble pie. Keith had a one-way ticket to Costa Rica and a brand new life of luxury, but he was determined to take the shine off those rock stars and pay Nicky’s ass back before he left. He refused to leave until he took care of them.

His ego wouldn’t let him.

Keith trailed Lissette to her apartment in Williamsburg. He watched her get out and begin to laden herself down with all her stuff. Nothing looked really heavy, just awkward. Keith got out of his car and started toward her.

The thought crossed his mind that maybe he should just take his flight and get the fuck out of New York. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind that were still sane, something flickered and tried to find a voice. Maybe he should leave it alone. Maybe he was about to fuck with the wrong people. His lunatic ego stomped that small spark of clarity out with big boots. Fuck them niggas. They weren’t shit. Besides, they were both hurt, and a hurt nigga could only do so much. Tate and Troy had tried, but it was time for somebody to put a real dent in their swagger. Keith wasn’t about to just dent Ramsey’s.

He was about to shatter it into a million pieces.

Keith had taken his time to decide the best approach, and he thought he’d come up with a good idea. He was dressed like he was just out for a jog — sweat shorts and a tank top. An iPod and a fanny pack for good measure. He jogged up to her just as he took the plant out of the car. It was a geranium.

“You’ve sure got a lot of stuff for a lady in your condition,” Keith said, jovially. Lissette turned and looked at him sharply. Keith spread his hands in a nonthreatening manner and flashed a winning smile. “Do you need any help?”

Lissette smiled at him with some hesitation. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

Fine. Time to gain her trust and put her at ease. He laughed and produced his badge and ID; Keith smiled when she actually took the time to read his name.

This time her smile was more genuine. “Okay, Detective Childs.

I guess I could use a little help.”

People were so stupid. He’d sedated her rational, city dwelling, case of distrustful nerves, brought on by a stranger offering unre-quested assistance, just by showing her proof that he was a bona-fide officer of the law.

He was sure she also felt her safety was guaranteed because she now knew his name — and possibly his shield number — in the off chance something jumped off that shouldn’t. Stupid. Just plain stupid.

Meanwhile, Keith kept smiling. “No problem. Glad I was able to put your mind at ease long enough to be of some service.” She laughed musically. Keith was very impressed with how pretty she was. What looked good from far away, was beautiful up close. She was that startle your heart pretty, like Nicky. He had goose bumps.

“Nothing like a cop to make you feel safe,” she said, handing her bags to him. She held onto the geranium, and walked up the steps of the well-maintained brownstone. She took out her key and opened the door.

“Then you must feel safe a lot. I saw you at the hospital after the sting went down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Were you involved in that?” He nodded. “I guess you can say I did some work out of the loop. A lot of people I know got hurt. I noticed you coming out of Ramsey’s room.”

She started up the stairs and he followed. Lissette smiled at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you noticed me, huh?” He smiled back. “Forgetting your face is highly unlikely. What’s your name?”

She stopped halfway up and turned around, looking slightly amused. “Are you coming on to me?”

Keith smiled and shook his head. “No. I just asked for your name. That’s all.”

She looked at him funny. “So … you know Noah?” He nodded. “Yeah. We went to the academy together.”

“Oh. Well, my name’s Lissette. I’m his girlfriend.” He wanted to ask her if she was sure about that, but he kept his mouth shut. “Really? When are you guys due?”

“In September,” she said, proudly patting her belly.

“Congratulations.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Lissette started back up the stairs. She probably felt she’d just put him in his place, nicely. Let him know not to come barking up the pregnant lady tree. She’d laid her claim and Ramsey’s. She was his girlfriend. Women were so into titles. None of it meant shit to him.

That wasn’t what he was here for.

Lissette stopped at an apartment on the second floor. “This is me. Thanks again, I really appreciate it,” she said, with a smile and with finality. This was as far as she was willing to accept his charity.

She wasn’t letting him in. Not so stupid after all, but stupid enough.

Keith slipped the bags off his shoulder and sat them by her door.

“You’re welcome. How’s Noah doing? He was hurt pretty bad. We did a lot of praying for him.”

“We appreciate it. It must have worked. He’s doing much better, but he’s still got to take it easy.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, I’d imagine … well, nice meeting you, Lissette. Give Noah my regards.” He turned to walk away.

“I sure will. I’ll make sure to tell him I met you.” Keith smiled. No, you won’t, but he’ll know I was here. Keith moved fast, putting his foot between both of hers and forcing her body against the door with his own. He had his hand over her mouth before she could scream.

“Open the door and I’ll take it easy on you.” The hand covering her mouth was suddenly wet with tears. She was making a scared moaning sound behind his hand. Keith reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a short knife with a sharp blade.

He held it to her stomach just hard enough for her to know what it was. She froze. Even seemed to stop breathing.

Keith leaned forward and spoke in her ear. “I said, open the fucking door. Don’t make me hurt you in this hallway.” Lissette whimpered, but she opened the door. Keith pushed her inside and nudged the door closed with his shoulder. Lissette stood staring at him with huge eyes, one hand over her mouth, the other on her belly. Keith put the knife back in the fanny pack and took out a length of cord. The realization of how dire her situation was showed on her face. She watched with desperate fear as Keith wrapped the cord around both of his fists.

Instead of cowering and mewling, she took off in a mad dash for the bedroom. Keith was right behind her, his instincts telling him she was going for a gun. She sprinted into the room and jumped across the bed, reaching for the drawer in the farthest nightstand. She reached in and came out with a silver .32, rolling over on her back, and taking aim.

She would have gotten him pretty good if the weapon had fired.

Instead, when she pulled the trigger, nothing happened. If that pistol had come from Ramsey, Keith was certain of two things — it worked, and it was loaded. He jumped on the bed, one knee on either side of her and wrenched the gun out of her hand so hard, he heard the bone in her finger snap. Lissette cried out in pain.

Keith glanced at the gun, looking down at her in mock annoyance. “Next time take the safety off. Oh, wait … you don’t get a next time.”

Lissette started fighting, but he subdued her long enough to get the cord around her neck. “Please!” That was all she managed to get out before Keith started choking the life out of her.

He looked at her with eyes just as sorrowful as the ones looking back at him. “I’m sorry, Lissette. I regret this more than you know.

You should have been more discerning about the company you kept.

Thank your lover for this. Go to sleep.” He made sure she was gone, then he looked at her beautiful face. Her features were puffy and her skin had an unnatural color from the violence of the act he’d just committed. It wasn’t as easy as it looked like it was in the movies, to strangle a person who didn’t want to die to death. It was violent and it took strength and determination.

Keith looked down into her sightless eyes. He hadn’t really wanted to do what he’d just done, but he believed it had been necessary. He also realized that he’d better do whatever other dirt he planned to do and get the fuck out of Dodge. Keith put his hands down and closed her eyes. There was no going back now. He’d started a war. He might not be able to swing this alone. He took out his cell and called a couple of old friends.