While I loved being part of the administrative staff, teaching would forever be my first love and I wanted to soak back in those roots. When I told Noelani my first day was in a few days she offered to come help decorate my new classroom today at Dillard High School.
“I feel like I’ve fallen in love all over again, Noe. He makes me smile. He makes me feel like a Tamia song all warm, sticky with honey, and dewy with love.” I started singing Officially Missing You, so she knew how zealous this man made me. “I miss him when he’s lying next to me sleeping.”
“Damn girl. He got you singing and shit.” She fanned herself making me giggle. Her phone started ringing. “Oou, I gotta go. I’m showing Cassian the Miami warehouse and we operate over there. Call me later.” She and I hugged before she left.
It took me about another hour to finish decorating my room how I wanted it. My whole African theme came out better than I expected. I was so excited to show it off that I called my dad but got no answer. I called my mom and got no answer with her either. Why is it that when I don’t feel like talking to anyone, they have no problem calling my phone until it goes dead but when I want to show them something no one has time for me?
Tuh. The nerve.
I really wanted someone to see how cool my room was, so I called one more person. “The FBI watches these video chats, Krishna.” Of course Amell would be the one to answer my FaceTime call with a blacked out screen.
“Well, geesh, tell them my name too why don’t ya.” I giggled. “Noe and I finished setting up my room. Look at it, Babe. Isn’t it nice and so African?” I roamed my camera around the entire room making sure that he saw everything.
“Yes, Gazelle. You’re definitely beautiful and nice to look at.”
Blushing, I wish he’d remove whatever he had on the screen so I could see his face. “Thank you. What are you doing and what part of the country are in that’s blacked out?”
“I’m waiting to snatch up JD from school. He’s…”
“Shit.” I yelped almost dropping my phone seeing Amp and several security guards rush into my classroom. These weren’t just my regular guards. These were my father’s guards.
“What’s going on?” Amell asked, finally coming into view on the camera.
I tried to open my mouth but the glower on Amp’s face as he marched my way startled me too much to speak. “Krishna, get your purse. We have to go.”
“Okay.” My heart was racing so damn fast. I looked at my phone and Amell had hung up.
Automatically I started thinking the worst. What happened and to whom?
When we stepped outside the school everything started moving in slow motion. Black truck after black truck lined the front of the school. I felt like we were in the middle of a Secret Service mission with all the guards shielding me with heavy artillery. Standing tall and armed the guards by the truck were talking into their earpieces.
I kept calling Amell. No answer. I called my parents. No Answer. I called everyone and got nothing. David and Amp sat in the front not offering a single word of comfort. I was scared, silently crying because I knew something bad had happened and all the people I loved were not answering.
Had this been because of me? Did someone find out who I was?
My heart sunk down to the pit of my stomach once we turned on Griffin Road. Hands started to shake, and tears ran freely. Only one building was this way. I may not have visited Florida many times, but my father made sure I knew where to go in the event of something happening and medical attention was needed. It was his team’s personal medical warehouse. Though Atlas and Keatyn had their own clinic he never mixed the two.
Shortly after turning down a dirt road we approached the warehouse with more SUVs parked outside. There was no uniform to their parking. All scattered about like they came to an immediate halt and jumped out.
David helped me out and once I looked down at the ground my legs gave out making him reach out to catch me before I hit the ground. There were drops of blood. Puddles of blood the closer we got to the door. Inside the warehouse we walked into a medical mayhem.
Guards were moving about talking on their phone. The medical staff were ordering each other around. Some carried bloody towels. Others running with medical equipment.
We continued inside until we came to a hallway. It took everything in me to not pass out. All of a sudden, I became nauseous and started to sweat. The drops of blood I saw outside had nothing on the puddles leading to the last door at the end of the hall.
David stood next to me while Amp opened the door. This time David had his arms out ready to catch me when I almost dropped to the floor. All the blood. My mother crying and praying. My stomach full of worries, it all belongs to my father who laid on the table with doctors and nurses surrounding him.
“Oh, baby.” My mother came over and helped me stand.
Finally, I found my voice. “Why aren’t they helping him? How did this happen?” My father had more guards than the president. How was someone able to get close up to shoot him?
“The bull…” My mother began to sob hysterically. “The bullets…it’s all too much.”
Suddenly the entire medical staff stepped back giving me an eye view of my father. His entire cream suit was covered in blood. His chest was covered with gauze and holes from the bullets. Weakly, he held his hand out. “Baby girl,” he coughed.
“Daddy,” I cried into his neck, holding his hand to my chest. His breathing, it was so weak. Why weren’t they helping him?
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too.” I kept kissing his cheek and hugging him as best as I could.
“Be patient with him. He’s going to need you.” His voice became so weak as his hand went limp in my hold. The machines started to go crazy and I was pulled away from his body. I’m not sure how many seconds or minutes passed before the two doctors announced that he had died.
“Oh my God. Amell.” Hearing my mother’s gasp, I looked over my shoulder and through my blurry teary vision I made out his large silhouette. Even with tears in my eyes I knew the man standing at the door wasn’t the man that I knew. Amell walked out without saying a word and my heart crushed into another thousand pieces.
My father had died, he’d been murdered, and Amell had…changed. Amell was about to wreak havoc and I prayed whoever did this, he burned them alive.
Amell
Four-gun toting men. Eight bullets. One man.
One man with one gun had enough time to empty his clip. Junior and his family caused mine to grieve because he had a problem with letting things in the past remain a thing of the past. In almost a two-month timespan not a day went by that someone didn’t die at the mercy of my hands or gun. I killed every last guard paid to protect him. I killed two political people who had a problem following orders when Mitch took them off their payroll.
I wrote a list down of all the people I knew that had any type of beef with Mitch. This list went back to my teenage days. No one was safe. If I felt a slight thought of possibility, it was lights out.
Junior had help with his execution. There’s no other way to explain it, and it all became confirmed when I brought pain and suffering to the guards. The first time he came down to Florida to meet with Mitch I knew about his plans on having a surprise meeting with Mitch two days after he contacted his private pilot to get his family’s jet ready. This time, I got nothing.