spines for so long, all the love that had been there that was now completely gone. We had started as two small boys in North Carolina, and here we were two and a half decades later in California, in what would certainly be a final act for one of us.
Chapter Twelve
I went over my weapons to make sure they were properly loaded and in working order. After feeling satisfied, I put them into a black handbag, along with the knife, and the money. I got dressed, went to my car and drove to a nearby hardware store. I bought a red plastic gas container, a roll of three-quarter inch nylon twine, a roll of duct tape, a box of latex gloves and a packet of lighters. I next went to a gas station where I filled up the gas container. I paid for everything in cash and then drove back to the StarWalk Oasis apartments.
***
I pulled into the parking lot and backed into a space near the exit. I put on a sport coat over the polo shirt I wore, and tucked the SIG Sauer with the silencer into one side of my waistband, and put the .20 caliber gun in the other, along with the knife. I put the remaining cash into my pants pocket, and put two pairs of gloves into my sport coat pocket. I exited the car and walked into the courtyard.
I took the stairs nearest the side of his apartment. It was shortly after nine p.m., and there were a number of people still hanging out around the pool, drinking beer and swimming. They paid me no mind as I moved past them; they were lost in their own activities, oblivious to the danger. It was dark on the third floor balcony and I slipped on a pair of latex gloves as I approached the door of Gerald’s apartment. The blinds were still closed, but there was light illuminating them and the television was on. I could hear muffled voices blending in with the TV; I leaned in close to the door and knocked with my right hand. The voices stopped; someone turned the television down. I pulled close to the door, just below the peephole. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone go to the window, peek through the blinds for a few seconds, then move away from them. I heard a male voice starting talking that I was sure wasn’t my brother, then a female, and finally Gerald’s voice. I knocked again and stood up straight, withdrawing the SIG Sauer. I heard footsteps come to the door, the handle turn, the lock engage and someone start to open the door-
I shoved it open, knocking a man backward onto the carpet. I quickly closed it behind me.
“No one move, no one make a fucking sound,” I hissed. “Not a sound.”
I quickly assessed the room; it was a living room, very dirty, with beer cans, pizza and take-out boxes strewn about. The couch was pulled out into a bed, and a young looking, small white girl sat on it, naked except for panties. She looked strung out on something, and had bruises and a black eye. She looked at me in a daze, but also scared. The guy on the floor was a black guy, short, covered in tattoos, and hatred burned in his eyes. He glanced over at my brother, then back at me, trying to put it all together. Finally, my brother sat in a chair against the wall, looking at me like he was seeing a ghost. In front of him was a coffee table with a gun on it, as well as a large glass bong and a crack pipe. A rolled up dollar bill and the remnants of several cocaine lines also sporadically powdered the glass table. My brother looked at the gun on the table, then at the one in my hand, clearly considering his options.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said. “You’ll be dead before you can get your hand to it.” I looked over at the girl; tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes. I figured she couldn’t be older than eighteen or nineteen. I looked at my brother.
“Who’s the girl?” I asked him.
“Just a whore,” he said.
“You do that to her?” I motioned toward her face, at the black eye and bruises.
He put on a wicked grin. “Nothing she isn’t used to.”
I looked at her again.
Chapter Twelve
I went over my weapons to make sure they were properly loaded and in working order. After feeling satisfied, I put them into a black handbag, along with the knife, and the money. I got dressed, went to my car and drove to a nearby hardware store. I bought a red plastic gas container, a roll of three-quarter inch nylon twine, a roll of duct tape, a box of latex gloves and a packet of lighters. I next went to a gas station where I filled up the gas container. I paid for everything in cash and then drove back to the StarWalk Oasis apartments.
***
I pulled into the parking lot and backed into a space near the exit. I put on a sport coat over the polo shirt I wore, and tucked the SIG Sauer with the silencer into one side of my waistband, and put the .20 caliber gun in the other, along with the knife. I put the remaining cash into my pants pocket, and put two pairs of gloves into my sport coat pocket. I exited the car and walked into the courtyard.
I took the stairs nearest the side of his apartment. It was shortly after nine p.m., and there were a number of people still hanging out around the pool, drinking beer and swimming. They paid me no mind as I moved past them; they were lost in their own activities, oblivious to the danger. It was dark on the third floor balcony and I slipped on a pair of latex gloves as I approached the door of Gerald’s apartment. The blinds were still closed, but there was light illuminating them and the television was on. I could hear muffled voices blending in with the TV; I leaned in close to the door and knocked with my right hand. The voices stopped; someone turned the television down. I pulled close to the door, just below the peephole. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone go to the window, peek through the blinds for a few seconds, then move away from them. I heard a male voice starting talking that I was sure wasn’t my brother, then a female, and finally Gerald’s voice. I knocked again and stood up straight, withdrawing the SIG Sauer. I heard footsteps come to the door, the handle turn, the lock engage and someone start to open the door-
I shoved it open, knocking a man backward onto the carpet. I quickly closed it behind me.
“No one move, no one make a fucking sound,” I hissed. “Not a sound.”
I quickly assessed the room; it was a living room, very dirty, with beer cans, pizza and take-out boxes strewn about. The couch was pulled out into a bed, and a young looking, small white girl sat on it, naked except for panties. She looked strung out on something, and had bruises and a black eye. She looked at me in a daze, but also scared. The guy on the floor was a black guy, short, covered in tattoos, and hatred burned in his eyes. He glanced over at my brother, then back at me, trying to put it all together. Finally, my brother sat in a chair against the wall, looking at me like he was seeing a ghost. In front of him was a coffee table with a gun on it, as well as a large glass bong and a crack pipe. A rolled up dollar bill and the remnants of several cocaine lines also sporadically powdered the glass table. My brother looked at the gun on the table, then at the one in my hand, clearly considering his options.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said. “You’ll be dead before you can get your hand to it.” I looked over at the girl; tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes. I figured she couldn’t be older than eighteen or nineteen. I looked at my brother.
“Who’s the girl?” I asked him.
“Just a whore,” he said.
“You do that to her?” I motioned toward her face, at the black eye and bruises.
He put on a wicked grin. “Nothing she isn’t used to.”
I looked at her again.
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