Deep

by C.N. Phillips

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Sometimes what’s done in the dark doesn’t need to come to the light. It should stay shut away forever. The lifestyle of sisters Rhonnie and Ahli Drake is proof of that. Born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska, Ronnie and Ahli have been raised to do the unthinkable to survive. With their father setting up all of their dangerous hits, the two have easily stolen over $200,000 over the years. Still, they feel a void. They want to live normal lives while they still can. Before they can perform their last job, which their father has promised will get them out of the game for good, a prior hit comes back to haunt them. It leaves their father with his throat slit and the girls in fear for their lives. With no money and no safe place to go, the girls have no choice but to agree to do one last hit. What is supposed to be just a job turns into what will be the most horrific experience of their lives. Just when you think you know what’s going to happen next, this twisted tale takes a deep dive for the worse.

Release date: March 28, 2017

Publisher: Urban Audiobooks

Print pages: 288

Sample

“Stop looking back!” a voice yelled into the night air. “And keep up before you get hit!”

The sound of automatic rounds being fired plagued the night air as two thieves ran for their lives. Both were dressed in all black and had a duffle bag on their shoulders. Hearts pounding violently, they kept their hooded heads ducked down as they pushed their feet to go as fast as they could. Bullets ricocheted off of the concrete and found homes in the cars parked on the street of the neighborhood they were running through. The neighborhood they were in was lit up by the streetlights, and people were peeking through their windows to see what all the commotion was outside of their homes.

“Move! Move!” one of the thieves shouted to a young woman who appeared out of nowhere. She had just stepped out of her white Toyota Corolla clutching a bag of groceries in her hand. She stood like a deer caught in a pair of headlights as she watched the two people running her way, waving wildly at her to move.

The warning came too late; she didn’t even see her death coming. She was clipped by multiple bullets in the center of her chest and blasted backward off of her feet. Her body slid down her car, smearing blood on the white paint the whole way down, and her eyes would forever be frozen open in surprise until somebody closed them.

There was no time to be sad at the innocent life lost because the assailants running after them weren’t letting up. The thieves were forced to make a quick right turn through somebody’s open gate and run on their neatly trimmed yard. The two lucked out because the backyard of the house led straight into the alley where they had parked their getaway vehicle. The first thief dropped the duffle bag onto the ground while still running full speed in front of the second. Jumping the fence effortlessly the thief waited for the partner to throw both duffle bags over before following suit. Once they were both over they picked the bags back up and continued their pace toward where the 2010 all-black Chevy Tahoe was parked in the shadows.

“They’re getting close!” the first thief said, jumping on and sliding over the hood of the truck.

“Hurry up and start the truck then!” the second thief yelled, yanking open the passenger’s door and hopping in before slamming it shut.

Looking to the right they saw the young thugs still toting their automatic weapons and climbing the fence.

“Go! Go!” the second thief said, and ducked just in time because the thugs wasted no time unloading their bullets into the vehicle.

The windows on the right side of the truck were instantly shattered and the first thief ducked down in the driver’s seat. The rapid fire made it almost impossible to sit back up, but with still hands the thief turned the key and started the engine. Driving was slightly hard due to the fact that both of their heads were ducked and neither could see, but the driver was adamant about getting them out of there. Turning the steering wheel all the way left, the driver hit a U-turn and mashed on the gas. With a loud screech they made a swift getaway before their opponents were able to get too close to them. They kept their heads down until they were sure they were out of range of the guns shooting at them.

“Hit that right.” The thief in the passenger’s seat guided the driver with expertise through North Omaha. “I parked off of Twenty-fourth and Lake by where the Blue Lion used to be, so take the back streets.”

“Why would you park so far from the job?”

“So if they followed us it would give us more time to lose them. Just shut up and drive, dude. You always have something to say.”

The tension in the car wasn’t uncommon after a job that led to a near-death experience for the pair. They didn’t head in the direction of where the second car was parked until they were certain they weren’t being followed. Once they got as close as they needed to, they parked the shot-up truck in front of an abandoned house and wiped down the inside of it before grabbing the two duffle bags. It wasn’t the first time the two had ditched a car so they both knew the drill; nothing was left behind. Shielded by the night sky, they ran the remaining two blocks to the gold 2002 Chevy Impala they had stolen earlier that day.

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” the second thief said, pulling away from the curb and finally removing the face mask. “Take your mask and hoodie off so we can dump them on the way home.”

“Sometimes I swear you’re the big sister and not me, Rhonnie.”

Rhonnie smirked at her older sister as she drove up Lake Street. “You know I’ve always been the more responsible one. Two years means nothing, Ahli.”

“Sike. Just get us home. Turn on some Eric Bellinger. His voice always calms me down after a night like this.”

Rhonnie did as she was told and turned on her sister’s favorite song by Eric: “Imagination.” Although she wanted to discuss the contents of the bags they had in the back seat, she knew it wasn’t the time or the place. She knew that their father had sent them on the mission for a reason; but usually they robbed people of cash and jewels, sometimes artwork. Not—

“Stop thinking so much,” Ahli interrupted Rhonnie’s thoughts with her head laid back and her eyes closed. She already knew what was going on through her sister’s nosey head. “I want to know too, but we can ask him when we get home.”

As always, Ahli was reading her mind. Sometimes Rhonnie felt like the two of them should have been twins by the way they were always in sync. Rhonnie couldn’t do anything but sigh and continue driving. She was trying to get back out West as fast as she could because she knew their current area would soon be swarming with cops and that was the last thing that they needed. They rode, listening to the soft crooning coming from the speakers for the next thirty minutes, until they finally reached their destination.

Pressing the circular button on the remote hanging from the Impala’s visor, Rhonnie pulled the car into the garage of the vast five-bedroom brick house. She planned to dump the car early the next day; however, at that moment, they needed to sit still for a while. The streets were too hot for them to be anywhere but home right then, especially since they knew for sure at least one person got killed.

The girls grabbed the bags from the back seat of the car and walked inside of the house, but not before shutting the garage door behind them.

“Dad!” Rhonnie yelled out, not able to contain herself. She didn’t care if he was asleep. “Daddy!”

“Chill, NaNa,” Ahli said, shooting her little sister a look as they made their way into the living room of their home.

“Fuck that,” Rhonnie said, dropping the bag she was holding on the coffee table. She plopped down on the black leather couch. After she kicked the black Timberlands off of her feet she crossed her arms and shook her foot impatiently.

Her eyes were focused on the spiral staircase by the foyer of the house, and they stayed there until she saw the familiar Ralph Lauren house slippers making their way down the carpeted steps. When Quinton Malone entered the living room a smile spread on his face as soon as he saw both of the duffle bags on the black marble coffee table.

“Good work,” he told them; but his smile soon faded when his eyes met his younger daughter’s. “Why the long face, NaNa?”

Rhonnie took a deep breath before she mustered up the courage to come at her father with any form of disrespect. She glanced at Ahli, who in turn just shrugged her shoulders.

So much for backup, Rhonnie thought. “Daddy, why you got us stealing coke?” she finally asked. “You had us getting shot at for cocaine! Of all things! Since when did you become a drug dealer?”

Quinton figured that the question would be coming so he was prepared for it. He sat down in his favorite chair, the La-Z-Boy diagonal from the couch that his daughters were sitting on. He observed them and saw the sweat still glistening on their foreheads and the tiredness in their eyes. He felt a small pang of guilt, but not enough to regret sending them to do the job. It wasn’t the first time that they had been shot at, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last either. He stared his daughter square in the eyes until she blinked.

“I never said I was a drug dealer.” He spoke in a smooth voice, but his children knew him well enough to recognize the deadly undertone. “The contents in those bags are probably only worth fifty thousand dollars combined. I have a buyer who is willing to pay double that.”

“Sounds a lot like drug dealing,” Rhonnie said, raising her eyebrow. Although the last thing she wanted to do was go against him, she had to let him know that she didn’t agree with him. “If you would have told us what we were really jacking I would have never gone.”

“Exactly the reason I didn’t say anything. I need you both to trust me.”

“Trust you? I do trust you but, Daddy, having that in the house is probably the dumbest thing we have ever done. I don’t want to be around it. Period. And you had us out there risking our lives for it. I thought we were there to grab bags of money. This was supposed to be one of our last jobs.”

“That is money, or it will be. This is an opportunity that I can’t pass up. Can you?”

“If I would have known I was going to be robbing a house full of people with automatic weapons I definitely would have,” Rhonnie shot back, not letting up on her dad.

Quinton sighed and rubbed his large hand down the neatly trimmed beard on his face. Whereas Ahli was more like their mother, Rhonnie was just like him. From her bullheaded frame of mind to her stubborn attitude, she was definitely Quinton Jr. However, he knew she had a “get money” mentality just like him, so that was what he homed in on at that moment.

“So, you’re going to let the job you just did go unpaid for? A’ight, go drop those bags off somewhere then, miss out on all of that money. I’ll hit Lance up and see if has another job for you.”

For that, Rhonnie had no comment. She had become accustomed to being able to drive any kind of car she wanted and being able to wear whatever designer she saw fit. Instead of responding to her father she just looked at her feet. Inside she was fuming but, he was right, she didn’t just risk her life for nothing.

“When do they expect us to deliver?” Ahli finally chimed in. “Because, Rhonnie is right, we need to get that stuff out of the house as soon as possible, Daddy. I don’t feel right being around it. I know we do some bad shit, but we ain’t never had to lay a hand on narcotics. If this is the first time, it has to be the last time.”

She stared into her father’s warm face and noticed that he must have gotten his brush cut lined up and his beard trimmed while they were out handling business earlier that day. He was looking debonair and sophisticated even in his clean night clothes. It didn’t bother her that he primped himself while they were out putting in work; it pleased her that he wasn’t worried about them. It showed the faith that he had in their skills. What bothered her was that he’d kept the contents of what they were stealing a secret.

“In two days,” Quinton told her, clasping his hands together. “The drop happens at one o’clock on Friday. In Miami.”

“Miami!” Rhonnie exclaimed. “That drive is like twenty-four hours!”

“Twenty-three,” Quinton corrected her. “And that’s the reason why we need to rest up, because we are leaving first thing in the morning.”

Ahli wanted the drugs gone, but she didn’t say that she wanted to move it that soon. The two girls would barely have enough time to recuperate from the job they had just done before they would be on another one. Still, she knew better than to argue with her father. She had more respect for him than that. Rhonnie, on the other hand, just couldn’t seem to contain her thoughts.

“Tomorrow? How does Uncle Lance even know these people are good for their word?” Rhonnie asked skeptically.

“Because your Uncle Lance has never steered me wrong. Ever.” Quinton winked at Rhonnie. “Now shut up and listen.”

Both Rhonnie and Ahli got quiet, knowing that their father was about to brief them on how things would go the next day. He usually didn’t go on jobs, but he felt like he had no choice but to be present for the one at hand. He explained to them that they would take two cars and leave thirty minutes apart. He told them that the drugs would be hidden in the car with them, just to stay on the safe side of things. Quinton knew he had eyes on him because he wasn’t supposed to leave the state; however, he knew his parole officer, Beverly, would let him slide. Still, the last thing he needed was to get pulled over with two bags of bricks in his vehicle.

Risky as it seemed he knew, as long as Ahli drove, the girls would be all right. He already booked them separate rooms at the Hilton. When they got there they were to park in the back of the hotel and check in like normal, but leave the duffle bags of drugs in the car. Afterward, they were to shower and stay in their room until he called them.

“Sounds easy enough,” Ahli said, nodding, seemingly pleased with the plan.

“They always seem easy,” Rhonnie said, standing and stretching her arms wide. “But are they ever easy? No. I’m going to bed since we have to be back up in like six hours. Night, y’all.” She didn’t wait for them to say it back before she made her exit.

Quinton sighed and shook his head. “That girl doesn’t know how badly I want to ring her neck sometimes,” he said aloud and mostly to himself.

“She’s just young, Daddy,” Ahli said. “She loves the money, but sometimes I think she had to grow up too fast.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, rubbing his hands together. “I never wanted this for you girls. It just seemed like the only way back then.”

“I know, Daddy.” Ahli shrugged her shoulders. “But it’s just what we have to do for now. Nobody knew Mommy was going to die or that we would have to struggle the way that we were. That’s not your fault and I understand why you brought us into your world. And until you get right, I don’t mind going in your place.”

Quinton smiled at his oldest daughter. She was a compelling young woman, just like her mother had been. He admired the fact that she wasn’t scared to get her hands dirty to feed her family. When it came to Rhonnie or him, she turned into an untamed beast. He’d seen firsthand what her aim could do to the opposition. She was a natural when it came to gunplay, and she was an asset to his little team of thieves.

“I know you understand the game, LaLa, but try to tell all that to your sister.”

“She’s still a kid living the life of an adult,” Ahli told him. “She wants to enjoy her youth, and it seems like time is winding down. I keep telling her just a couple more jobs and we won’t have to do this anymore. Give her a couple of days. Once she sees all that money she’ll be all right.”

She stood up and planted a kiss on Quinton’s forehead before she too bounded up the stairs, leaving him lost in his thoughts.

“Sister, wake up.” An impatient voice invaded Rhonnie’s dreams.

She groaned, trying to roll over and bury her body deeper into her lavender fleece cover. It literally felt like she had just closed her eyes and that sleep hadn’t even found her yet. All she wanted was to stay lost behind her eyelids and forget about what needed to be done once she opened them. “Fihh muh minutes,” she mumbled into her soft pillow.

“No!” she heard a stern voice say; and then she felt the covers being yanked off of her. “It’s already five thirty in the morning. Get up! I’m trying to get this shit done and over with.”

“Ahli!” Rhonnie yelled as the gust of cold air hit her bare legs. Her eyes popped open and sure enough there was her big sister standing in front of her, wide awake. Ahli was fully dressed in a form-fitting T-shirt and a pair of Levi skinny jeans that hugged her hips and made her thighs look extra thick. Rhonnie was forced to squint her eyes because the light was too bright in the room. “What is wrong with you? I’m sleepy, sister!”

“Sleep in the car,” Ahli responded and threw some clothes at her little sister.

Thursday morning had come faster than Rhonnie had anticipated, and getting out of her comfortable bed felt like torture. Rhonnie looked up at her sister again and took in her appearance. Her kinky, long, curly hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, her mocha skin was clear and smooth, and her eyelashes were long and smooth as if she had put mascara on them. It was apparent that her sister had been up for a while.

“Fuck,” she mumbled to herself and sat up, stretching her arms out. Her eyelids were still heav. . .