Dishonorable

by INDIA

Genres: African American Urban; Media Tie-In

Synopsis

In this gritty novelization, a young woman’s plans for revenge take a backseat when her past resurfaces, and an unknown threat enters the mix. Perfect for diehard fans of urban street literature in the vein of Ashley Antoinette and Wahida Clark.

Markita “Kita” Jones is a young woman with the world at her fingertips. A high-school student with beauty and brains to match, she’s well on her way to Howard University. However, on her 18th birthday, she watches her dreams die during a drive-by shooting that claims the life of her brother. Overnight, Kita transforms from a naïve schoolgirl into a savvy street hustler on a mission to find her brother’s killer.

With the help of her best friends, Kenya and Alexis, Kita quickly begins making more money and more enemies than she ever could’ve imagined. As these young hustlers learn to navigate the dope game, the police start to close in on them and the stakes are raised higher than ever. Loyalty is questioned, love is tested, and someone’s actions prove to be dishonorable. They came into the game together, but will they leave the same way?

Release date: March 26, 2024

Publisher: Black Odyssey Media

Print pages: 288

Sample

Prologue

“Well, little one, it’s almost time for us to meet officially.” Markita Jones rubbed her round, pregnant belly while staring at her reflection in the mirror on the dresser; she was glowing. “Mommy is very nervous, but I know things are going to be okay,” she smiled. “You are so loved and spoiled alr—” The tender moment was cut short by a loud sound.

Instinctively, she walked toward the bedroom door to assess the situation. Initially, she thought her two best friends, Alexis Walker and Kenya Lewis, had dropped something as they made space and moved furniture to prepare for the baby shower they were about to host. Just as she was about to yell downstairs and tell them to be careful, the sound of gunfire erupted through the two-story town house like booming thunder. Fear gripped Markita’s heart as she internally processed what was happening.

A barrage of bullets ricocheted off the walls and windows, tearing up everything in their path. Markita dropped to her knees, fearful for her life. That’s when she heard her friends screaming for help. They were downstairs in the living room, where she had been no more than ten minutes ago. Had it not been for the baby pressing on her bladder, she’d still be down there.

“Fuck!” Frantically, she searched the bedroom for anything she could use for protection. Unfortunately for Markita, her quest yielded no results. Scared to make a move, yet fearful of being trapped, she crawled toward the bedroom door. Her heart raced erratically as she tried to calm her breathing.

“Where the fuck is the cash at?” a man’s deep voice bellowed from the living room.

“I don’t have any fucking money in here!” Alexis screamed in agony. It was apparent to Kita that she was injured.

“Bitch, I’m going to ask you one more fucking time. Lie to me again, and you won’t like what happens next.”

“I’m not lying,” Alexis cried. “Please, just leave. Let me call the ambulance before we die in here. I swear to God I won’t say nothing . . . just let us live, please.”

Though Markita desperately wanted to go downstairs and help her friends, she had an unborn child to think about first. She slowly closed the bedroom door and retrieved her cell phone from the bed. It was lying next to her black Yves St. Laurent Cassandre purse. Quickly, she dialed for help.

“911, what’s the emergency?” With a stiff tone, the operator sounded more like a robot than an actual person.

“My name is Markita Jones. I’m at 906 Chene Dr., unit number three. Please send the police and a few ambulances,” she whispered through labored breaths.

“What seems to be the emergency?”

“Oh my God, he’s coming!” Kita’s voice oozed in panic as the sound of heavy footsteps headed in her direction. The pattern of their stride matched the beating in her heart. She felt like she was seconds from passing out. “I’m at my friend’s house. Someone just came in shooting!”

“Do you know how many assailants there are? Do you know what they look like?” The operator bombarded her with questions.

Frustrated and afraid, Markita dropped the phone onto the bed. That’s when she saw the knob on the bedroom door jiggle. She thought her life was over, but right on cue, the headlights from a car outside illuminated the bedroom window, giving Markita the sign she needed to use the only escape route accessible. Though Markita didn’t exactly want to jump two stories to safety, she knew desperate times called for desperate measures.

Quickly, she pried the window open and kicked out the screen. With one leg dangling over the edge, she looked back at the door just in time to see it crack open. Before the assailant could fully enter the room, Markita closed her eyes tight . . . and jumped. Thankfully, she landed on her knees instead of her stomach or back. However, her victory was short-lived as the sound of two gunshots whizzed past her head. Without hesitation, she jumped up and frantically ran toward a neighbor’s house. POW! A missed shot hit the headlight of a burgundy Nissan parked nearby.

“Help!” Markita screamed . . . just before the next shot hit its target. The bullet successfully tore through her left calf muscle and dropped her where she stood. Within seconds, she forced herself up from the ground and shifted her weight onto her right leg, determined to keep pushing. Though hurt and tired, she willed herself to fight for her child, if nothing else. BANG! However, the fourth blast was the shot that inevitably put Kita down. The bullet had entered into her back and exited through her chest. The scene appeared theatrical as pieces of her flesh opened and flew out in front of her, sending thick red blood squirting out everywhere.

Seconds after the shot, Markita felt a burning sensation so hot that she began to wonder if she was on fire. The pain was unbearable. She wanted to scream in agony, but her lungs were full of something . . . blood perhaps. She tried twice to get up from the concrete, but it was useless. Her limbs were no longer listening to her brain, as she lay there unmoving. Her eyes fluttered as she tried hard to keep them open. Within a matter of seconds, her body grew cold. Internally, she knew she was losing her fight to stay alive.

“Oh my God!” a lady screamed while another person hollered for someone to call 911.

As Markita lay outside dying beneath the stars, she thought about her mother, Jackie, and how she would feel after receiving the news. She wondered if Jackie would blame herself and go into another bout of depression the way she did when her brother Marlowe was killed. Markita wished she could comfort her mom and let her know that none of this was her fault.

Next, she thought of her fiancé, Rico Richardson, and large tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Without a doubt, the police would report the incident as being drug-related, and she knew he’d be mad at her for bringing shame to his name and tarnishing his reputation. Markita also knew that Rico would ultimately hate her for losing their child to a street hustle she should have never been caught up in.

Markita wanted to make things right with everyone. She wanted desperately to start over, but there were no second chances in life. It was time to meet her maker and face judgment for how she had been living lately. She wondered if Alexis and Kenya would be at the crossroads to greet her when she arrived. With her friends in mind, she managed to muster a faint smile.

How did three innocent girls from the ghetto get caught up in a life of crime? This simple question triggered a movie to begin playing in Markita’s head. With her eyes closed, she began to relax and allow herself to be transported through what felt like multiple dimensions. Flashbacks of her life began in childhood when things were rough for her family. Markita knew this period was the catalyst that undoubtedly turned her from an innocent, sweet girl into an infamous street gangster.



Christmas Eve ten years ago . . .

Eight-year-old Markita and her mother, Jaqueline Jones, stepped from the semicrowded city bus into the dark, crisp night air. The pair walked in silence down several long blocks toward their run-down, eight-story apartment building centrally located in the middle of the Woodward Housing Projects. The streets were unusually empty this evening, but that was to be expected for the holiday season. Everyone was either inside preparing for Christmas or away visiting family. It was too cold to talk, but that didn’t stop little Kita from making smoke rings with her mouth.

When they finally reached their destination, Markita asked her mother if she could make a snow angel. It had snowed over eight inches in Detroit the previous night, meaning heaps of fresh snow were everywhere. Jackie was cold and tired. She wanted to tell her daughter no, but then she remembered her own childhood excitement about playing in the snow and decided not to be a killjoy. With a smile, she relented. “Okay, go ahead, but hurry.”

With a smile, Markita fell backward into a fresh pile of snow and began moving her arms and legs sideways like windshield wipers. “Mommy, do it with me, please,” she begged through a missing bottom tooth that had fallen out some days ago.

“Girl, no. It’s too cold out here for my old bones.” Jackie pulled the hood of her coat tighter as Kita begged once more.

“Please, Mommy, just for a minute. We can warm up with hot chocolate and warm cookies when we get inside,” she persuaded.

“Who said you were getting hot chocolate and warm cookies, little girl?”

“We always have hot chocolate and warm cookies on Christmas Eve, Mommy,” Kita reminded her mother with an innocent giggle. What had started as the only offering Jackie had for her children on the holiday turned into a family tradition over the years. “It’s my second favorite thing about Christmas.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your first favorite thing?” Jackie leaned against the brick exterior of the building and blew hot air onto her bare hands.

“Making Christmas wishes and seeing if they come true is my most favorite thing,” Markita continued.

“Is that right? What did you wish for this year?” Jackie asked although she’d found her daughter’s secret list a few months ago. It was written in crayon and slightly misspelled, but Jackie had gathered enough information to know that her daughter wanted a traveling doll case, a pair of skates, and a gold necklace with her initials.

While listening to Kita blab, Jackie beamed with excitement. She was proud that she could make Christmas special for both of her kids this year with all of the overtime hours she’d put in between her jobs at the plant and department store. Life had not always been kind to the young mother, but thank God she was finally finding her way out of the dark space she’d been in since being kicked out of her mother’s home at fourteen with her first child, Marlowe, who was now sixteen.

“Mommy, you know I can’t tell you my wishes because they won’t come true.”

“Can you at least tell me one?” Jackie insisted, still playing the game.

“Well,” Kita paused. “I wished my mom would make a snow angel with me on Christmas Eve,” she cleverly embellished.

After a few seconds of careful consideration, Jackie gave in. “Wow! That’s really specific, but if that’s what you wished for, let’s do it.” She walked over and found a spot next to her daughter. Together, they made angels and then commenced having a snowball fight. This went on for several minutes before Jackie had to call it quits. Her pants were soaked, and Kita’s cheeks and nose turned red. “Let’s go get our hot chocolate and warm cookies.”

“Deal.” Kita stood, stomped the snow off her body, and followed her mother into their building.

Upon entrance into the lobby, they were greeted with the strong smell of urine and a fresh puddle of pee. Kita pinched her nose and looked up at her mother, but Jackie wasn’t bothered; she’d adapted to it over the years. Kita pressed the button for the elevator as Jackie checked the mailbox. As usual, it took forever for the elevator to arrive, so Jackie used the time to sort through everything in her hand. Right on top of the stack was a pink envelope with a red stamp that read PAST DUE. Without hesitation, Jackie opened the envelope and gasped. “What?” she said to no one in particular.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Kita asked as they stepped onto the elevator. Her favorite part of riding was to press the buttons, so she flew over to the keypad. “Three,” she pressed and said aloud.

“Nothing, baby.” With a furrowed brow, Jackie continued looking through the stack of mail while mumbling under her breath. She was perplexed.

Seconds later, the elevator stopped, and the duo stepped off. They were greeted by their neighbor, Mr. Allen, who had difficulty controlling his rambunctious dog, McGyver. “Hey, Jackie. Hi, Markita. I’m glad I got to see you guys before the big move. I’m sure going to miss you and those Sunday meals you send my way occasionally.”

“Hi, Mr. Allen.” Markita put her hand out to pet McGyver.

“I’m sorry, Allen.” Jackie looked up from her bills. “Did you say you were moving?”

“Not me.” Allen looked puzzled. “I saw Larry moving stuff out of your apartment not too long ago. I thought you guys were moving, but maybe I was wrong.” He paused. “Don’t mind me. I’m sorry for meddling.”

At the mention of Larry, her boyfriend of five years, Jackie frowned. Though things had been rocky for quite some time, she didn’t know why he would have been moving things out of their apartment on Christmas Eve without telling her. She was also clueless about why the water and electric bills hadn’t been paid in two months. She and Larry had a joint account to cover all household expenses. Jackie wasn’t computer savvy, so Larry was responsible for making the online payments. The entire time they’d lived together, there had never been a problem, so all of this was out of the ordinary.

“I’m sorry, Allen. Let me go and see what’s going on. Merry Christmas.” Jackie grabbed Kita’s hand and flew toward their apartment.

Chapter One

As soon as the ladies approached their two-bedroom flat perfectly tucked in the corner with a homemade Christmas wreath adorning the door, they were promptly met with a letter. It was taped to the peephole and read: FINAL WARNING. “What the fuck is going on?” Jackie snatched the letter, read it, opened the door, and immediately flew into her bedroom. In her haste to confront Larry, she had dropped the bills and letter on the dining table. Kita quickly picked up the mail and read through all of the papers, being the inquisitive child she was. She determined that some of the bills were past due and that the rent hadn’t been paid in almost three months. The rental office needed all money and late fees to be paid within ten days, or they would proceed with a formal eviction. Kita didn’t know exactly what that meant but knew it wasn’t good.

Just as Kita began removing her wet shoes and coat, she could hear her mother and Larry shouting at each other. The yelling didn’t faze her because she was used to it. Without hesitation, she walked into the kitchen and tried to cut on the lights, but they didn’t work. Without giving it a second thought, she walked over to the sink and washed her hands. Next, she opened the freezer door, stood on her tiptoes, and retrieved the package of chocolate chip cookies. She planned to get started on the dessert, but then she remembered that she needed her mom to cut on the oven first.

After trying to wait it out for a few minutes, Kita decided to go to her bedroom, undress, and change into fresh clothes. The apartment was so dark and cold that she had to wear two layers of pajama pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a sweater. Even with all of the clothing, Kita was freezing. Internally, she debated if she should knock on her mom’s door and risk getting in trouble for disrupting grown folks’ business or just put on more clothes and thug the cold out. Quickly, she decided on the latter.

After dressing in everything she thought would keep her warm, Kita returned to the kitchen. However, the minute she placed her hand on her bedroom door to open it, she could hear her mother’s bedroom door open too. Jackie and Larry continued their argument into the hallway. Kita pressed her ear to the door. She really couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she could tell it was about money. This went on for the better part of thirty minutes before things escalated in the living room, where physical punches had been thrown.

Scared to death yet worried about her mother, Kita slowly pulled her bedroom door open to see what was going on. Even in the dark, she could see that the living room furniture was now out of place, and a few pictures had fallen off the wall. Markita wasn’t sure who’d delivered the first body shot, but it was clear that her mother was on ten and getting the best of her partner. Larry was a tall, lanky man with few muscles and a bald head. He was bleeding from the nose while Jackie bled from the mouth. Though the couple’s relationship wasn’t perfect, Kita had never seen things get this bad between them.

“So, are you just going to fuck up the rent and bill money, then come home and pack up your shit like nothing happened?” Jackie dug her nails into Larry’s eyes. He backed up, trying to put some distance between them. “What the fuck are me and my kids supposed to do, bitch?”

Markita had never heard her mother curse this much; she knew Jackie was pissed.

“I know I messed up, but I didn’t come home like nothing happened. I came home to tell you that I am leaving. You just won’t let me go.” Larry raised his hands in surrender.

“Let me get this straight.” Jackie made a show of her shock by grabbing her chest as she continued. “You go out and smoke up all the money we had for rent, food, bills, and every gotdamn thing else, and think you’re just going to come in here and tell me you’re leaving? You gotdamn right. I’m not making this easy.” Swiftly, she extended her arm like Ali in his prime and hit Larry right in the center of his face. Blood oozed out like red slime.

“Bitch! I should kill you.” Larry lunged at Jackie and began choking her.

She gasped for air and tried desperately to pry herself free. “Stop,” she mumbled.

Seeing her mother fight for her life, Kita ran into Jackie’s room and opened the second drawer of her nightstand. She searched until she found a small box labeled KEEP OUT. Without hesitation, she opened the box and retrieved the gun she knew would be hidden there. It was a compact, nine-millimeter handgun, but Kita was too young to be concerned with the logistics at the moment. All she knew was that she had to protect her mother.

“Larry, get off her,” she returned to the living room screaming. “Get off her right now!” With tears running down her face and unsteady hands, Markita approached the couple.

Larry’s eyes widened in surprise. Maybe he realized what he was doing, or perhaps he just didn’t want to get shot. Either way, he released Jackie from his grip. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jackie fell to the ground and tried hard to catch her breath. Kita ran toward her mother but never took her eyes or the gun off of Larry. Larry looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached for his winter coat lying across the couch and grabbed the duffle bag resting on the floor. After throwing the luggage over his shoulder, he walked over to the sparsely decorated Christmas tree sitting in the corner. He stood there momentarily before kneeling and grabbing a few presents from beneath the tree. Kita couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Larry had gone from someone she cared for to being the Grinch in human form as he stole Christmas.

“Really, Larry?” Jackie coughed, trying to catch her breath while removing the gun from her daughter. “As if you haven’t done enough, you’re going to fuck up Christmas too?”

“I’m sorry,” he said while heading toward the door like a thief in the night.

Jackie tried with all her strength to get up off the floor and go after him, but it was useless. She knew if she were lucky enough to catch up to him, things would only get worse. On top of everything else, she couldn’t afford to be locked up for Christmas. “I’m sorry, Kita,” she whispered.

“Why did he do that to you . . . to us?” Kita had big crocodile tears dancing in the ducts of her doe eyes.

“Larry has a problem, baby.” Jackie held her daughter tightly and tried to make sense of things for both of them. In reality, Jackie knew nothing about Larry’s bad habit until now, and she felt so stupid for missing all of the signs her intuition should have told her were there.

“What do we do now, Mommy?” Kita continued to cry.

“Christmas is not about gifts, baby. That stuff is just material things that make us feel good. Jesus is the reason for the season; always remember that.” Jackie wanted to chastise Kita but relented. She knew the girl had been through a lot today.

“I wasn’t talking about the presents. Where are we going to live now?” Kita’s words hit Jackie like a ton of bricks as the severity of the situation started to kick in.

Chapter Two

There was no time for Jackie to wallow in her sorrow before she had to put out yet another fire.

“Mama! What the fuck happened to your face?” sixteen-year-old Marlowe asked from the doorway of the apartment. His handsome brown face looked concerned and angry as he stood there wearing a white hoodie, denim jeans, and an old pair of Nike’s. He’d just returned from the local activity center, where he spent most evenings playing basketball.

“Larry hit Mommy.” Kita released her mother and ran over to her brother. Since day one, he’d been her protector.

“I’m okay, son.” Jackie used the bottom of h. . .