The Heart Read online

  At fourteen, Al was doing what young boys did, shooting hoops and watching girls. During his freshman year of high school, he had grown by leaps and bounds. Not just in size, but in popularity and coolness. Basketball or better yet, dreams of the NBA had become his and Tucker’s focus. But, Tucker’s mother was determined to have him go to college on an academic scholarship, so Al was determined to do the same. However, they had to keep their skills on point just in case the NBA thing came through.

  The basketball court wasn’t fancy; in fact grass was growing between the cement cracks. There were no rope hoops for the ball to swish through and no seats from which the spectators could watch. All that was there was cement, more cement and linked fence surrounding the full court.

  Al and Tucker ruled the court, outdoor and in. At school, Al at six feet directed the game as the point guard and Tucker, at six two, stood back and took shots at will. On the cement, positions weren’t defined. It was street ball. In Norfolk, Virginia, there was no Midnight league where the teenage boys were organized and played exhibition games. But whenever an organization came through with a tournament, you better believe, teams were lining up to recruit Al and Tucker. Some would offer them money to play for their team. The highest bidder was usually granted with their special talents. But, even in their youth, Al and Tucker had their own set of rules they lived by. The two were selective in who was allowed to purchase their services and they never—never played against each other. And no one challenged their decisions. Their connections to Ms. Sunshine, the owner of the ‘anything-you-may-be-looking-for’ house in the neighborhood, legal or not, ensured their protection on the street.

  On that dreadful day, Al and Tucker had just finished a game and were standing on the sidelines having an intense conversation. The two girls standing outside the fence were their main focus. Al’s rap had worked, now he was attempting to persuade her friend to accompany Tucker for a little one-on-one. Al’s glance wandered over the girl’s shoulder where his stepfather stumbled into his line of vision. It was a good thing the gate leading to the house he lived in was open. It seemed his stepfather was fully loaded and would not have been able to open the gate. He never liked to see his stepfather drunk. Usually when he was that drunk it meant his mother and Bill would be fighting before the night was out. Deal with a drunk or Tameka, who was smiling up at him, ready and willing. No brainer, he returned his attention to the girls. This was a hell of a lot better than having to go home. Home quickly became a distant thought.

  When Al finally made his way home that night, it was to the flashing lights of emergency vehicles in front of his house. Something kicked in the pit of his stomach with each step he took. Walking towards the house, nothing could have prepared him for what he was told. Officer Wilber T. Munford stopped him at the walkway to his house and told him his sister Joan was being taken to the hospital. The story told to him was that someone had tried to rape her, but she fought back and it looked like she lost the battle. Al tried to break away from the man, but he couldn’t. Tucker stood by his side as they watched Joan being rolled away with his mother Lena next to the gurney trying to get her daughter to talk. But it was all to no avail. Later that night, his mother came home alone. Billie was nowhere to be found and no one had any answers to his questions. No one could tell him who came into his house and killed his sister.

  The days and nights that followed that gave him some answers. He didn’t want to believe it, because his stepfather was a good man when he wasn’t drinking. And Al knew that Lena was hard on the man. But when Billie was drunk, Lena and everyone else in the house stayed away from him. For days Al wondered why they ever came to live with Lena. All of them would have been better off staying on their own when their grandmother died. But a nice little check from Social Services and a good amount in food stamps convinced Lena the children should be with her.

  The months that followed Joan’s death, were hell on Al’s mental state. He believed if he had just gone home, Joan would still be alive. From that day on, he became his little sister Tracy’s protector. He was not going to let what happened to Joan affect his little sister. Every day he had her at his side. It didn’t matter that she was only eight years old and he was fourteen. Where he went, she went. Where he stayed, she stayed. His mother actually enjoyed not having to come home and deal with the little brat, as she called her. She had her freedom again and could hang out in the clubs or wherever. But Al didn’t care. After Social Service and Child Protective Services completed their investigation, the welfare checks continued coming and that was all Lena was concerned with. As for him, Tracy’s safety was his number one concern. He wasn’t going to lose another sister.

  A few months later, on a September afternoon, the day before Tracy’s birthday, Al and Tucker had stopped by the corner store after school. It was one of those rare occasions when Lena actually had Tracy with her. He didn’t feel the need to rush to get home when he stopped by the corner store to pick up a candy necklace for Tracy’s birthday. He had all of two dollars on him, but that was enough to buy the gift for Tracy.

  Al and Tucker made plans as they walked the few blocks to his house. Whenever they needed a few extra dollars, they would help Ms. Sunshine with her accounting books and she gave them a few dollars. She had been trying to get the two to work for her full time, but the boys refused. They were trying to stay clean for possible basketball scholarships. Neither could afford to have a record. Later that night they planned to talk to Ms. Sunshine about working part-time, just on her books, nothing illegal. As they turned the corner, they could hear the yelling coming from Al’s house. The two looked at each other then took off running. Al burst through the front door just as Billie grabbed Tracy by the arm and flung her back into the bedroom. Lena jumped on Billie’s back swinging with her fist and screaming. Tracy was crying as Billie yelled and turned on Lena with rage in his eyes. Al knew somebody in his house was about to die. It wasn’t going to be his mother and it damn sure wasn’t going to be Tracy.

  Al grabbed Billie’s arms. “Get Tracy,” He yelled at Tucker as he tried to pull Billie’s hands from around his mother’s neck. Instead of following Al’s demand, Tucker walked to the kitchen. On the table was the butcher’s knife Lena always used. Turk moved just as Tucker stuck the knife in Billie’s back. It was hard to believe, but Billie didn’t as much as blink as he released Lena’s throat and turned on Tucker. The backhand hit sent Tucker flying. He slammed into the wall and fell to the floor. Billie walked over to Tucker with the knife still lodged into his back and began to repeatedly kick him. Seeing his friend in danger, Al grabbed the cast iron skillet pan off the stove and swung on Billie knocking him to the floor. He didn’t stop with one swing; Al continued to bang Billie’s head with the pan until Tucker pulled him off. Lena took the pan from his hand.

  Suddenly, everything was eerily silent. The only sound was that of the television show Good Times playing in the background. Al stood over Billie, not sure if he was dead or alive, his adrenaline speeding through his body, and his shirt covered in blood. He looked at Lena, then at Tucker. There were blank expressions on their faces. Someone had to do something and it was clear neither of them had a clue.

  Al pulled his bloodied shirt over his head. He walked into the bedroom, where Tracy was sitting in the corner on the floor with her head on her knees whimpering. Dressed in a little blue jumper with pink flowers all over it, with a little pink shirt underneath and pink barrettes at the end of her two ponytails, she looked up at him and hiccupped.

  “Turkey, Daddy hurt my arm,” she cried.

  With each hiccup, her two ponytails jiggled. With the traumatic scene she was still the cutest little girl he’d ever seen. Now, she was his responsibility. He held his arms out, “It’s all right Sugie. I will never let anyone hurt you again—never.” His frightened little sister walked right into his arms and held on to her big brother.

  Al placed her in Tucker arms. “I trust you with my sister. Don’t let anything happen
to her. Take her to Ms. Sunshine’s house. Tell her what happened and that I need her special friend at my house.”

  Once Tucker was out of the house Al turned to Lena. She standing there, rooted to the spot with the skillet in her hand. He calmly walked over and tried to pry it away, but her grip was strong. “Lena,” he called out to her and for a moment she didn’t respond. He pulled the bloody skillet from her hand, took it over to the sink, washed it, then put it back on the stove. He then went into the bedroom and came back with a spread from the bed. He bent over Billie’s still body and covered it. Reality set in for Lena when he stood. She turned on him swinging her fist, screaming. “You killed him. You killed Billie. You stupid son-of-a-bitch.” She slapped him across the face. “Who in the hell is supposed to take care of me now? Who?”

  At first Al was stunned. Didn’t he just save her life? He wasn’t hearing are you all right son, are you hurt? Or at the very least thank you for getting that crazy man off me. No this woman—his mother was cursing him out because he killed the man that had terrorized their lives for four years. Yeah it was nice when he first came around, but after Tracy’s car accident, Billie changed and so did their lives.

  The shock wore off as Lena swung to strike him again. The vision of his sister Joan on the gurney hit him in the gut. He caught her hand mid-swing then pulled her to him with a strength he didn’t know he had. “You?” he said calmly—too calmly. “You want to know who is going to take care of you! What about your daughter Joan? Who took care of her? What about your daughter, Valarie? You practically sold my sister to the first man that came along offering marriage. How much did you get? Let me see if I got it right, $5,000.00. That’s right. Hell, if you had protected Joan, she would have brought in twice that, after all she was the spitting image of you.”

  “Don’t you talk to me like that. I’m your mother. Let me go!” Lena tried to pull away, but Al was too strong for her and held her wrist tight as he spoke his mind.

  “You don’t know what the word means. If you were a mother, you wouldn’t have allowed that man near your daughters. You knew what he was doing every time he got drunk and you weren’t here. You knew, and you still let him come back into this house. A mother would have protected her children—especially her daughters.”

  “Don’t you judge me! You don’t know the hell I’ve been through.”

  “I don’t, but it’s going to be nothing compared to the hell I’ll bring on you if anything happens to Tracy.”

  “You won’t know. Your ass is going to jail. I’m going to make sure of it!”

  Al released her hands, then pushed her hair over her shoulders. In the smoothest, chilling voice, Al spoke. “Lena, you are a beautiful woman. My boys always say they could hang out and just look at you all day.” Then he stepped so close to her, they were nose to nose. “Say one word to anybody and no man will ever want to look at you again.” He could see the fear and surprise in her eyes. In a way the look hurt him, for she of all people should know he would never hurt her or any woman. But he would beat the hell out of a man that tried to harm his women and that included her. Al stepped away. He saw her rub her arms as if she had a chill.

  “What are you going to do now?” she snarled. “You can’t run. The police will track you down.”

  He didn’t respond at first. Al walked away from her to think. “I’m going to handle my business and you…” he hesitated, “are going to stay out of it. Anybody ask you about your husband, you will just say he walked out one day and you haven’t heard from him since. You got that?”

  “I heard you,” she snapped. “How am I supposed to live now? That little check I get from Social Services is barely enough to put clothes on our backs. At least the money Billie was making was getting us by. But that was barely enough to get my hair and nails done.”

  Al just stared at his mother. He knew she’d had a hard life growing up, but what made her so self-centered? Then it really hit him. He only thought he knew this woman, but really didn’t know her at all. They were standing over her dead husband’s body talking about getting her hair and nails done. No, he didn’t know this woman and the longer he stood there, the less he liked her. And to think, the whole time he lived with his grandmother he always prayed that his mother would come and get them. It just goes to prove we all have to be careful what we wish for. Every woman is not mother material just because they have a womb. But he had to wonder, why it took her four children to reach that conclusion?

  Unfortunately for them, she was the only relative they had. They didn’t have a choice in coming to live with her. And look where it got them. Valarie was the only fortunate one. She was old enough to know when to get the hell out of dodge. She got married as soon as she turned eighteen and never looked back. Joan, her problem was she was just as pretty as his mother. Once, his mother tried to get one of her friends to take Joan in, just to eliminate the competition for the male attention. How could a mother be jealous of her own daughter?

  Tracy was going to be just as pretty as Lena and Al knew it. There was no way he could take Tracy where he was going. Ms. Sunshine’s house was not the place for a little girl. So again, he was left with no choice. Tracy was better off staying with Lena. At fourteen, he felt he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he went to jail for killing Billie, there was no telling what would happen to Tracy. Therefore, he had to put the fear of God in Lena. He had to let her think that he would kill her if anything happened to Tracy.

  The only thing Lena valued was money. Therefore, he had to work that angle to his advantage. “I’ll give you $500 a week to keep Tracy.”

  Lena took a step back as she thought about his offer. Where are you going to get that kind of money?

  “It doesn’t matter,” the young boy, said to his mother. “You keep your mouth shut and take care of Tracy. You keep her safe and I’ll give you $500.00 a week.”

  Lena glared at Al with a look of disbelief. “$1,000.”

  “$500 for now and more when you prove you can be a mother.” Lena nodded. Al sighed as he walked back over to her. “I have one question. Billie wasn’t like this when we first came. What in the hell did you do to make him drink?”

  “No woman has the power to make a man do anything unless he gives it to them.”

  Al made up his mind then and there, that no woman would ever have that power over him.

  The applause of the people brought Al’s attention back to the present. Pearl Lassiter, JD’s press secretary, stood at the podium. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Honorable Governor of Virginia, His Excellency, Jeffrey Daniel Harrison.”

  The crowd of a few hundred applauded as JD walked on the stage with his wife Tracy by his side. He winked at Pearl as she whispered, “It’s the last time I can use it.” Smiling as JD and Tracy took the stage, she knew he never liked the term ‘His Excellency’ so she had to tease him one last time.

  Al smiled, as JD and Tracy took center stage. He was right. Tracy Washington-Harrison turned out to be more beautiful than Lena and Joan. For her beauty was more than skin deep, it was to the soul. How he wished he could find a woman that was as beautiful and as sweet as his Sugie.

  As if it were ordained, his eyes drifted to the woman standing on stage behind his sister. Now—she is sex on spiked heels. He loved that commanding walk and sassy sway of her hips that carried her from one point to the next. Al stood there watching her as her eyes scanned around the room, looking for any sign of a threat to his sister. A lump formed in his throat, as it had many times before. How could someone so dangerous appear to be so vulnerable every time he looked into her eyes? Slowly he reached inside his suit jacket, pulled out a pair of black shades and put them on. The shades allowed him unlimited access to the woman. He could look at her as long as he wanted without detection. But the shades also served as a mental shield from the affect the woman had on him.

  “When are you going to stop staring at that woman and do something about that itch?”

  Al didn’t h
ave to look to his side to know who had the nerve to call him out on his undercover surveillance of Morgan Ryan Williams, better known as Ryan. “I thought you were in Washington visiting Julianna, the woman you have an itch for and are doing nothing about?”

  “That was cold.” Tucker pulled out his shades then put them on, taking his stance next to his friend. Folding his arms across his chest, he smiled. “I’m back.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Morgan Ryan Williams was child number five to Franklin and Mary Williams. Her crime in life, according to her father, Detective Franklin Williams of the Richmond Police Department, was being born a female. That was the crust of the wedge between father and only daughter.

  She was only eight years old when her mother passed away from cancer. That event left her as the only female in a house filled with alpha males. As a little girl, the only examples she had were over-achieving males. So she emulated what she saw day in and day out. All four of her older brothers were police officers or detectives. Learning how to be a lady was out of the question. However, learning to play ball, any kind of ball, was a definite, as well as how to fight and shoot guns. The girl knew how to break down a weapon, clean and store it better than her brothers. In fact, it was one of the things she would do regularly to get her father’s attention. It didn’t work. She stopped trying. Once she grew up, she began to rebel against everything her father stood for on general purpose. He didn’t treat her like a boy the way her brothers did. No, he simply ignored her existence. It was as if his family line ended with his last son. That’s probably why, for a brief period of her life, she ventured on the other side of the law.

  It was during that time that she worked for Al “Turk” Day’s organization. She never met the man back then, for she took orders directly from his right hand man, Donovan Tucker. They were in the midst of taking the organization completely legal when they hired her as the muscle to help them accomplish the task. Yes, she was that good and Tucker recognized her skills and her ability to reason out situations without violence. Their goal was to take the organization legit with as little loss of life, on either side, as possible.