Page 10 of Nobody But You

“Don’t guess, know,” he said as his gaze caught my eye. Once he was sure he had my attention, he continued.

“Yes, to catch his ass in the act. Most importantly, I want to study him. See his routine and how he goes about his day. I want to know everything about this man. I want to know the most intricate details of his life. I need to know if he eats his burger with cheese, mustard, ketchup, lettuce, onions, and a few French fries on top.”

“Daddy?” I asked as he looked at me with his most serious expression that matched mine. I knew Ahmad didn’t eat that becausethat was how I’d just eaten the burger I’d scarfed down. I laughed hard. My father was never serious with me. We joked around like this all the time. He loved to keep his princess, as he called me, happy and laughing. He’d deemed us all a part of his royal family, labeling us as such. He eventually joined in on my laughing.

“I’m being serious, though, Baby Girl,” he said as he sobered his laugh. I hadn’t taken my eyes off Ahmad, who had exited his vehicle and entered the convenience store.

“He comes here every Wednesday at the same time. Why?” I spoke.

“Good job. My normal drop-off day is Wednesday at ten a.m. from random locations. Normally I would never have an exact time because it’s too predictable, not only for the fucking cops but for these young niggas that want the crown. I set this time up specifically for him. As you can see, he comes here right after to drop off what he skimmed from me. Then he comes back on Friday to pick up his money. My fucking money!” His voice rose in anger as he explained.

“The person he’s selling my product to works in that store.” I looked to my father to see how he could have gathered that much information.

“How do you know?” I asked as I focused on the store’s door to see when Ahmad would leave. It had been thirty minutes.

“You see, all this shit here is my jungle, and I’m the King. I wear the crown. I like to think of myself as a lion. I have a pride of motherfuckers that I trust to bring me back all the information I need. In essence, I have eyes everywhere. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” I was listening, but wanted to know who was inside that store. I undid my seatbelt and reached for the handle to go find out.

“Where are you going?”

“Inside that store,” I returned.

“Not like that, you aren’t.” I gazed down, confused at my simple t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, to see why I couldn’t go in.

“I just told you that I was the king of this jungle. They’d recognize you as soon as you walked through the door. You’re my lioness. The lioness is the hunter. I will teach you how to strategically stalk and hunt your prey until you have enough information to take them down. You’re beautiful and tall, like your mother. Too beautiful, you’ll stand out. There will come a time when you’ll learn to use it to your advantage. I need you to learn to blend in. I don’t want them to see you coming unless you want them to. Also, I want you to avoid your brother and his part in the business. Please don’t ask questions; never go around when he’s conducting it. It will always be our advantage if they don’t know who you are, in case I need to send you after them,” he said as I nodded in understanding.

“Most of your targets will be easy, but never underestimate anyone I send you after. They’ll be bigger, stronger, and faster, but none of that shit will matter once I’m done with you.” I nodded again as the door opened, and Ahmad walked out; he’d been inside for forty-two minutes. We watched as he got into his car and pulled away from the curb. Shortly after, my father did the same, following him.

Past- Four Months Later

“You come in here often? I would remember seeing someone as beautiful as you. I come here every night.” The gangly white man I was sitting beside asked. His skin was pale, his face sunken in, and his eyes held a yellow jaundice that showed the years of his alcoholic habit. I was sure he’d been handsome at some point in his life. However, I wasn’t a therapist, nor did I care what had driven him to the bottle. What I did care about was what that bottle had caused him to do.

“No, this is my first time.” I smiled and fluttered my lashes. Lashes that were heavy with mascara and caked with heavy eye shadow. My entire face was exaggerated with a full face of makeup. With the added wig, I was unrecognizable. He took his glass, raising it to take another sip of the whiskey he’d constantly thrown back for the last hour. At twenty-one, I was of drinking age, but tonight, I needed a clear head, so I opted for a Coke to give off the appearance that it was a mixed drink.

“It must be my lucky night, then,” he said as he raised his hand to twirl a strand of hair from the wig I was wearing around his thin finger. I cringed at the act, but I didn’t waver; I was there to seduce him. I crossed my legs, drawing his eyes to my exposed thighs in the short, body-hugging mini-dress I was wearing.

I had been following Trip Callahan for three weeks. I was there the night the state of California released him from prison, sitting in the shadows. Which led me to this bar every night to watchhim. Trip was an old money trust fund baby who was a world-class fuck-up and took full advantage of his white privilege. After only three months inside, he’d somehow managed to be released after killing my mother by being drunk behind the wheel.

Callahan had found his way onto Ten, traveling one hundred twenty miles per hour before losing control and barreling into my mother’s car. She’d lost her life on the way home from the hospital where she was a nurse, while he’d walked away with mere scratches. I sat in the back of the courtroom, hopeful, as the judge told him he would sit in jail until his arraignment. When his court date arrived, his lawyer had found a way to swindle his client out of being charged.

Money buys every fucking thing!

Because of my mother’s death, what my father and I worked on never came to fruition. Our world was swiftly flipped upside down, and I found myself swimming in grief. We all did because she was our Queen, our everything. My father had become despondent, and my brother rarely came home at night. He threw himself into school and the streets even more than before. Each day without her felt heavy and dark. I finally let that darkness consume me, embracing the feeling that led me here to avenge her and kill Trip Callahan.

“Hey, do you want to get a room?” I asked seductively as I ran my fingers down his arm. His touch made my hands feel like they were on fire, or maybe my blood was boiling from my anger. I tried to hide the recoil of my face as he haphazardly threw back the remainder of the brown liquid.

“How much?” He asked. I tempered my disdain and curtly smiled.

It figures he’d think I was a damn sex worker.

“How much can you afford?” I spoke his language because guys like him loved throwing their money around. It was how they measured dicks. I'd guessed he was small, considering how much money he had to throw away.

“Well, that depends. We can discuss it upstairs. Get us a room. I’ll wait here.” I said with another smile. He nodded, and my eyes followed his path as he left for the concierge to secure one. He was staggering, barely making it to the desk. Moments later, he returned to retrieve his prize for the night, which was me. I followed his drunken body. He reeked with the stench of all the alcohol he had consumed. I held my breath to stop the bile from coming into my mouth.

I was also getting nervous because I’d never done this before. However, I let my nerves fuel me instead of backing out of what I would do. The elevator opened, and we went inside. His skinny fingers pushed the number three repeatedly as the doors closed. In silence, we ascended, with him giving me his best smile, which I barely returned. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened upon its arrival.

“After you,” he said as I stepped out and waited for him to lead the way. I followed him as he staggered to his assigned door, room three hundred and eight. He fumbled with the key before clumsily dropping it to the floor. He searched for it until I helped him out of his daze.

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