Justified, page 2
The patrol car’s door popped open. She couldn’t see the officer’s approach from her side mirror, but she heard the crunch of gravel beneath the officer’s feet as he took his sweet-ass time approaching the car.
CHAPTER 2
Charlie groaned as she came into consciousness. Pain greeted her and almost made her pass out again.
“We got a pulse,” a voice boomed.
Charlie winced and shrank from the sudden cacophony around her. Seconds later, the scent of grass faded as several pairs of hands lifted her from the shrubbery on the side of the road.
“Careful, careful,” another voice ordered.
Pain ricocheted throughout her body as they jostled and strapped her to a gurney.
“Don’t worry. We’re going to get you some help,” a woman told her.
Charlie parted her bruised and cut lips to ask, “Henny?”
“What was that? I think she said something,” the woman informed her team.
Charlie attempted to speak again, but her dry throat sent her into a coughing frenzy, which detonated more misery and suffering in her broken body.
“It’s okay. Try to relax.” The woman placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “We’re taking you to Provident Hospital. They are going to patch you up in no time.”
Where is Hennessey? Charlie turned her head from the woman and struggled to open her eyes, but they seemed glued shut.
They lifted her again.
Despite her closed eyes, the bright light inside the ambulance stabbed her irises and caused pain to explode in her temples. There was a lot of bustling and shuffling around her before there was a prick in her arm and something cold rushed into her veins. She must have passed out because the next thing she knew, she was jostled again. Struggling for strength, Charlie opened her eyes. Her gurney wheeled at a maddening clip through a long hallway. Men and women in white coats ran alongside her, gripping the side railing. They talked over each other, making it difficult to make out what they were saying.
At last, they plowed through two sets of swinging doors and wheeled her to a stop beneath an enormous circular beam of light. Charlie slammed her eyes closed and squirreled away from the pain, but it was everywhere. Again, they injected something cold into her veins and the world dissolved, and she was back on the side of the road with Hennessey . . .
Apprehension tied every muscle in Charlie’s body into knots while her mind went through every fatal traffic stop scenario she’d seen on the Internet for years. Would their black lives matter tonight?
When the big Robocop-looking muthafucka arrived at Hennessey’s left side with his hand near his holster, Charlie wondered how the hell this muthafucka was already on ten.
“Keep your hands where I can see them!”
“They’re up,” Hennessey huffed, keeping his hands at ten and two on the wheel.
Instinct told Charlie to look back into the car’s right-side mirror. Sure enough, another cop was doing a slow creep toward her. Lord knew she had performed the same tactic in Kabul plenty of times. Stay calm. Breathe. Play it cool.
However, Charlie’s head and her heart weren’t in agreement at the moment.
“License and registration,” Robocop ordered.
With his wallet already in hand, Hennessey removed the requested cards and handed them to the officer. Only the officer was too busy flashing a light into the car.
When the beam hit Charlie, she frowned and twisted away.
“Where are you two coming from tonight?” the officer asked. The light traveled from Charlie’s face and down her body. Despite the open window, tension thickened the air.
Hennessey spoke through gritted teeth, “Just heading home, Officer.”
“That’s not what I asked you, boy,” the cop growled.
Aw. This is about to be some shit. Charlie grabbed Hennessey’s hand again.
“We were at the Moonlight Club,” Charlie answered for Hennessey.
“Is that right?” the cop questioned, taking the cards from Hennessey. “Are there any weapons in the vehicle?”
Fuck.
“I’m going to ask you two again. Are there any weapons in the car?”
Hennessey sighed. “I have a legally registered handgun underneath my seat, Officer.”
“Step out of the vehicle.”
“What?” Hennessey barked.
“STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE.”
Charlie woke again to the sound of someone crying and hushed voices buzzing. Faintly, she wondered what the crying was about, but she lacked the energy to ask. Instead, she attempted to block it and the buzzing out. However, it soon sounded like a million bees were trapped inside of her head and drove her mad. She twisted away from the noise, but her head weighed a ton, and her neck muscles were about to snap from the effort.
“Look. She’s awake,” Johnnie gasped.
Charlie heard an army of feet rush around the bed.
“Charlie? Can you hear us?” Michael asked. “We’re right here, sweetheart.”
Someone took hold of her hand. Their trembling transferred to Charlie, and she attempted to pry her eyes open to see what was happening. She sacrificed a few lashes in the process but managed to get her eyes open about a quarter of an inch. None of the images made any sense. It was as if she was underwater. The world was one big blur; there was no real shape to anything. She blinked, but it was harder the second time around to open her eyes. When she managed it, her vision didn’t improve much.
“We’re all right here, sweetheart,” Johnnie assured her. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Where is here? Charlie ran her thick tongue over cracked lips. “Henny?”
The room fell silent.
Didn’t they hear me? There was a good chance she’d only thought the question. Charlie licked her lips and tried again. “Where is Henny?”
Everyone’s gazes shifted around.
Charlie’s heart pounded in her ears. “Get off of him! Get off.”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Charlie jerked as if the gunfire had sounded in the room.
“Calm down, Charlie. Everything is going to be all right.”
Charlie pushed her sister’s hand away. They were hiding something from her—something bad. “Where?”
Teddy got to the point. “I’m sorry, Charlie. But . . . Hennessey is gone.”
The oxygen sucked out the room as Charlie twisted her head towards Teddy’s blurry image, but because of the pounding in her ears, she hadn’t heard her sister correctly. She couldn’t have.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
But her heart had heard and understood.
“No.” She shook her head.
“I am sorry.” Teddy clutched Charlie’s other hand.
Charlie snatched it free as if Teddy’s touch scalded her. “No,” she repeated as tears rushed to the surface. Her vision submerged deeper underwater. A round of empty promises flowed from her sisters’ lips while pain seized every inch of her body, especially between her legs.
A new fear rippled through her. She inched her bruised hand over to her flat belly. “No.”
When her sisters turned away, the truth chiseled its way into her head. “Nooo.” Her tears were hot as they slid down her face, and she choked on the sob lodged in her throat. Hennessey was gone. The love of her life—dead. And the child she’d been carrying had gone with him.
Charlie sank into despair—sure she would never recover.
CHAPTER 3
Vic Caruso jumped when the phone rang and knocked a half a dozen beer bottles off the coffee table in the process with his foot. During the second ring, clouds parted in his head. He’d passed out on the couch again.
Grumbling, Vic snatched the phone from its cradle and answered the call before it went to voice mail.
“Yeah.”
“Are you fucking catching the news?” Crews snapped a couple of octaves above his normal register.
“What is it?” Vic dismissed the near hysterics in his partner’s voice—mainly because Crews stayed in a state of panic over one thing or another.
“Shit is about to hit the fucking fan,” Crews whined.
“Can you be more specific?” Vic’s eyes drifted closed again, while the alcohol sloshing through his veins was already spinning his thoughts away from this phone call.
“The bitch is still alive.”
“Mmm,” Vic moaned, not hearing a word.
“Vic! Are you listening to me, man?” Crews snapped.
Annoyed, Vic snatched his eyes open again. “What the fuck are you going on about, Chris? It’s too fucking early for this shit.” Ain’t it? Vic pried one eye open and looked around for the time. Why isn’t there a clock in this room?
“Turn the fucking television on, Vic. That muthafucka’s bitch we capped last night is plastered all over the news. The shit is even on CNN.”
“What?” Vic opened his second eyeball and patted the sofa’s cushions around him in search of the TV remote.
“I got a bad feeling about this,” Crews whined. “If the bitch starts talking—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Vic ordered as he powered on the television. “Ain’t shit going to happen to nobody. We’re cool.”
“I believed you last night when you told me the bitch was ghost.”
“She was dead.” Vic struggled to follow what the journalist and Crews were saying, but the segment ended, and he had to switch channels.
“She must’ve risen from the dead then.”
That’s impossible. Vic remembered checking the chick’s pulse himself. He didn’t make those types of mistakes.
“We’re gonna have to get Jace and Thomas and make sure our stories are straight on this before we talk to our union rep. I got ten years on the force without a single scratch on my record. I can’t lose it along with my benefits over some bitch.”
Vic rolled his eyes. “Calm the fuck down. Nobody is going to lose shit. Let the chick hurl her accusations. They aren’t going to stick to shit. We were off duty, and no electronic eyeballs were watching a muthafuckin’ thing. If it gets down to it, it’s our word against hers. There’s not a grand jury in this country who is going to take a nigga’s word over ours.”
Crews remained silent.
“Exactly.”
Crews sighed. “But we still need to get our story straight, right? I mean, in case she can identify one of us.”
Unimpressed with the news reports, Vic shut off the television. “Fine, whatever.” He lumbered to his feet and shuffled toward the kitchen with the phone tucked under his ear. “You and the guys can come over here to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Crews sighed again. “Yeah, see? That’s all I’m saying. We need to get our stories straight. Just in case.”
Vic grabbed the last Heineken from the refrigerator. “Fine. Be here in an hour.”
“You got it.”
Vic disconnected the call and popped the top off of his beer. A second later, the phone rang again. He took one look at the caller ID screen and groaned.
He answered the call on the second ring. “Yeah.”
The caller’s voice rumbled over the line. “You left a witness?”
“We fucked up,” Vic admitted. “But don’t worry. We’ll clean it up.”
“You’re damn right. I paid you good money to take care of both of them.”
Vic’s grip on the phone tightened. “I said we’d clean it up.”
“I’ll be watching.” The caller hung up.
Stunned, Vic pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the screen again. Fuck you, too.
Provident Hospital
“Look straight into the camera,” a female officer said.
Battered and broken, Charlie opened her swollen eyes the best she could, but when the camera flashed, the bright light stabbed her irises, and she had to slam them closed again.
“One more,” the woman said.
Charlie pried her eyes open again; this time, tears streamed and matted her mascara-coated lashes together. Blood rushed into her head, sounding like a rolling storm, crashing inside against broken veins and vessels.
Another camera flash blinded her and sent pain shooting into the center of her brain. “I’ll teach you, you fucking bitch,” a voice echoed in her head.
“Turn to the right,” came the next order.
Charlie shuffled her feet and turned on her stilt-like legs. Hours ago, they had been snapped apart by animals in blue. “Say something slick now, bitch!”
The camera flashed.
“Turn to your left.” Charlie’s earlier screams of outrage rang in her ears. Her hands balled at her sides.
“Ma’am? To your left.”
Charlie closed her eyes and turned, but her left foot dragged. She stumbled, sharpening her pain as it ricocheted. Still, this was easier than enduring the rape kit. And the rape kit was nothing compared to the rape.
If she could survive that, she could survive anything.
“Open your hospital gown,” the officer said.
Charlie hesitated.
“Ms. Warren?”
Charlie pressed her lips together and chanted in her head, You can do it.
The officer’s voice softened. “Take your time.”
Charlie’s scarred hands fumbled with the gown’s strings, and after taking a deep breath, she opened it. The flashes came in quick sessions, burning her irises. It’s almost over.
She needed it to be over.
“Okay, ma’am. You can get dressed now.”
Charlie closed her gown and shuffled toward her hospital bed. The pain intensified with each step. Once in the bed, she rushed to press the button for the nurse.
The cop packed her gear and exited the room.
Alone, Charlie’s composure slipped, and tears flowed. “Fuckin’ uppity bitch thinks she’s too good for this dick!” She pulled the covers over her body while tears soaked her pillow. “Henny!”
“Scream all you want to,” the cop growled. “That dead nigga can’t help you.”
A nurse’s voice came over the intercom. “Can I help you?”
“Pain.”
“Yes, ma’am. Someone will be there in a second.”
A hospital second meant anything from five minutes to an hour. Charlie didn’t want to wait. She wanted everything numbed. It made it easier for her to check out of reality and quiet the voices echoing inside her head.
* * *
Ramsey rushed into the hospital like a hurricane. Rashid and Dominic flanked his sides while Trudy pulled up the rear. His long strides stormed across the hospital. People rushed to get out of the way. When he spotted Charlie’s sisters in the waiting area, he made a direct beeline.
“How is she doing?” he asked them as a group.
Their father, William, unbraided his hands and then used his cane to stand up. “There is no way to answer that, son. She’s still with us, but . . . I don’t imagine she’s going to be the same Charlie we all know and love. Those bastards have stolen everything from her.”
Ramsey digested the information.
Teddy noted Ramsey’s veins bulging along his temples and his nostrils flaring. Hennessey’s oldest friend was having a hard time controlling the rage boiling inside of him.
“Is she talking?” Ramsey asked. “Is she, at least, saying what happened?”
The Warrens shifted looks among each other.
Ramsey didn’t miss it. “What? She told you what happened?” He stepped forward. “What did she say? Who did this shit?”
They shared another look.
“It was Kong, wasn’t it?” Ramsey guessed. His hands balled into boulders at his side. “I know that nigga did it. Tell me, and we’ll go over there right now and handle this shit.”
Kong’s name was short for King Kong on the street. He’d been called that for as far back as anyone could remember. Muthafucka had been slinging dope since he was in diapers. No lie. Kong’s daddy used to stash dope in his son’s diapers. It was no surprise Kong followed in the family business. Somewhere in junior high, guns replaced drugs. Kong was better than the muthafuckin’ military when it came to getting his hands on weapons.
Kong bumped heads with Hennessey and Ramsey when they started making names for themselves in the music industry. Suddenly, Kong wanted to spit bars on their label. However, Hennessey and Ramsey didn’t want anything to with Kong. Besides, gangster rap died out in the nineties. Kong didn’t want to hear that shit and started his own label. The beef between them turned out to be great for business. The rivalry made both labels famous.
But the bad blood remained real.
“Say the word,” Ramsey said, hyped up. “I’ll go over there and squash this beef right now!”
“Calm down.” Michael approached. “It wasn’t Kong or any label beef.”
Ramsey frowned. Michael’s words didn’t compute.
She lowered her voice. “They were cops.”
Ramsey cocked his head like a confused puppy. “Cops?”
Everyone in the group nodded.
“The cops did this shit?”
William attempted to assist. “It was a fucking traffic stop.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Afraid not. Charlie is in there right now filing the report and documenting the abuse.”
The moment Teddy finished informing Ramsey, the family saw an officer leave Charlie’s room. “I’m going to go and check on her.”
“I’m coming with you,” Johnnie volunteered.
“Wait. I want to come,” Teddy and Billie chimed together.
Michael shook her head. “We don’t want to crowd her. You two stay out here with Dad and Ramsey. We’ll be right back.”
Teddy and Billie twisted their lips, but they agreed to Michael’s directive.
* * *
Charlie heard a knock at the door before Michael poked her head around the corner of her hospital room. “Mind if I come in?”
Charlie minded, but her family was worried sick.
“Sure. C’mon in.” Charlie swiped her eyes with the back of her hand and pushed the button on the hospital bed to raise her head up.
Michael entered and waved Johnnie to follow in behind her. “How are you feeling?”
