Page 8 of Lane

“Alton, weren’t you here yesterday?” Jordan asked when he answered.

“I was, but I wanted to talk to you. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He sighed, but his tone told me he wasn’t surprised. “Do you remember the night we met?”

“How could I forget?”

It was late when I received a call from my sister. I was still awake, trying to wind down from a busy day, but my brain wouldn't shut off.

“El, what’s wrong?” My sister knew the hours I worked and how long my days were. She didn’t call me this late unless it was urgent.

“He’s going to kill me,” she rushed to say, her breath coming in pants.

Her boyfriend had been in the news, along with the East Dremest Police Department. I’d trusted her when she said he was doing better. He wasn’t in trouble anymore. Eleanor had a good head on her shoulders. She wouldn’t have gotten involved with a dangerous man.

My first reaction was, “Call the police.” Then I thought about what I’d said and why it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“He said he’d tell them I started it and beat him. I hit and scratched him to get away, but I didn’t start it.” The police would have believed him. He was an ex-cop who had done time but still had acquaintances on the force who would cover for him thanks to him having information on them that would land them in a hell of a lot of trouble.

“I’ll be right there.”

She tried to beg me not to come; all the while, she cried in fear. She wanted to be free of him but didn’t want me to get hurt. She sobbed over the phone and was torn about what to do.

I didn’t care about me, only her. We hung up so she could hide. I grabbed my gun from the safe. I didn’t live in a city like East Dremest and not protect myself. After my home was broken into a while back, I vowed never to feel helpless again. The cops took far too long to respond. I’d be prepared going forward.

The drive to my sister’s house was quick. She lived in half of a duplex. The other side was empty, the tenants having recently moved out. Just as I was about to climb the steps to the front door, a car came screeching to a halt by the curb.

The last person I expected to get out was Jordan Altair Sr. Of course, I knew who he was; everyone who lived in the city did.

Raising my gun, I didn’t point it at him but showed him I could if I wanted to. I wasn’t helpless. His driver walked toward me and said, with his own gun aimed at my face, “If you put your finger on the trigger, I’ll put a hole in your head you won’t walk away from.”

“My sister is in there," I replied, instead of saying I wasn’t about to shoot Jordan. “I have to help her.”

A scream suddenly sliced through the air. Jordan moved swiftly up the stairs and rammed his shoulder against the door to get inside. The driver left me on the sidewalk as he ran after Jordan. I followed, not sure what was going on. I had to help my sister though.

“You motherfucker,” I heard Jordan growl when I was inside. “I let you live far too long.” Rounding the corner, I saw he had Eleanor’s boyfriend by the hair with his head wrenched back. “I gave you too many chances. Now you’re abusing a woman.”

“She stole from me! I was preparing to move what I’d bought from you, and she found it and took it.”

That was when my eyes landed on my sister huddled in the corner of the room. She was naked with her legs pressed up to her chest. Bruises were already forming on her face and arms. Blood trickled from her nose and cut lip.

I rushed forward, taking off my shirt to drape it over her. I settled beside her, with my arm around her shoulders. My eyes met Jordan’s.

“Did you take from him?” Jordan asked her.

I was about to answer when she rushed to say, “No. I didn’t even know what I found.” Her voice shook, but she wasn’t intimidated by him. I was proud of the fight still in her.

I’d seen many people on drugs in my line of work. My sister wasn’t using. If that was what they were referring to anyway.

Jordan assessed her before focusing on the scum on his knees again. “I told you to not be reckless with the product. And you leave it where anyone can find it. Were you going to sell it on my streets?”

“No!” he cried. “I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t believe you. I had a call about you dealing. That’s not how this works,” Jordan growled.

“Please. I didn’t.”

Jordan put his gun to my sister’s boyfriend’s temple and pulled the trigger. It was violent and bloody, but I couldn’t turn away.

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