RedBone 2:

Book 2: RedBone

by T. Styles

Genres: African American Urban; African American Women's Fiction

Synopsis

Knox Baker has been missing for weeks. When his cell phone is discovered in Farah Cotton's possession, his family wants to know how she obtained it. Always deceitful, Farah quickly devises a clever lie to buy time. The problem is that there is one living person who knows the truth--Eleanor McClendon. Della Baker, Knox's mother, senses that Farah is lying. To help discern her son's whereabouts, she calls upon two deadly family members from Mississippi. They waste no time converging on Platinum Lofts with one mission in mind--to find their lost family member no matter who they must kill in the process. Farah goes on a wild chase to find Eleanor before anyone else does. If she fails, it could mean the end of her relationship with Slade and possibly her life. Easily distracted, Farah's lust for murder and mayhem is heightened when she unexpectedly meets people just like her. She's immediately sucked into their world when her thirst for blood is validated by newfound friends. Will Farah Cotton survive, or will her lies be the end of her?

Release date: March 26, 2013

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

After leaving the hospital from visiting her friend Rhonda, who just lost her baby, Farah trudged into the house with a heavy heart. This was as a result of the shower she hosted at her house. The guilt wore her down, and she was having a terrible day. Things got worse when she walked into her room and saw her brother and sister there.

“Why are y’all in here?” She sat next to them and kicked her shoes off one by one. Then she flung her purse to the floor. “Any news on Chloe yet?” She was worried because the day prior, she had learned that Chloe was held for ransom with her boyfriend, Audio.

“No . . . I can’t believe this shit,” Mia said. “Our world is coming down hard!”

“Why is all of this happening? I can’t deal with this bullshit right now,” Shadow yelled. “Fuck!” Then he looked at Mia, and it was obvious they knew something Farah didn’t. “We should tell her.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking between them. “Stop playing games and tell me what’s up! Please . . . I don’t think I can take any more bad news.”

“Mama’s dead,” Mia cried.

Farah was relieved that this was the reason for their dismay. “We went to tell her that Chloe was missing. She changed the locks so we couldn’t get inside, so we called the police. I smelled something foul, but I didn’t know what it was. When the police came, before they even got to her apartment, from the outside they knew what was up. She was dead. Sitting in front of a TV. Somebody slit her throat and shot her in the chest.”

“Wait. Shot her in the chest?” She was confused. “Why . . . why they do both?”

“They didn’t know she was shot at first, but when they took her to the hospital, and lifted the black gown she wore, they saw the bullet hole over her heart.” Mia was breathing so heavily she had to fan herself.

At that moment Farah’s mind floated. Prior to this new information, she thought she was the one who killed her mother. She murdered her mother because ever since Farah was a child, Brownie ridiculed her for having light skin. Brownie hated lighter-skinned women, believing they thought that they were better than she was. Her mindset was due in part to not appreciating her dark skin because of the persecution she experienced from her peers as a child. Even her own mother, Elise, believed her daughter was unattractive and should be grateful for anything and anybody who wanted to be with her, including her drunk and violent husband. Brownie’s heart was always filled with hate, so she could never love Farah.

So when Farah went over to Brownie’s house, she let herself in and raised the hijab covering her neck, to slice her throat. Now she was learning that someone raised the abaya, shot her, and pulled it back down to conceal the crime. But who?

Shadow popped up and marched toward the window. He leaned up against the wall and looked out through the pane to prevent himself from crying. “You should’ve seen her face, Farah. Oh my God! She didn’t look anything like herself. The porphyria ate her up terribly! Our beautiful mother is gone.”

Porphyria, a rare blood disease, caused havoc in their family. Farah, Mia, Shadow, and even their grandmother were stricken with it. Porphyria affected the nervous system and the skin, which impacted the way their bodies produced blood. But it was the physical effects that caused the family the most grief.

Farah didn’t feel the same way about her mother’s death. In her opinion, Brownie got everything she deserved. “I can’t deal with her right now,” she said. “I got to use all of my energy on Chloe.”

Mia wiped her face and touched Farah’s knee. “I understand you don’t feel the same as we do.” She looked at Shadow and back at her. “After everything she put you through, it’s wrong for us to expect you to.” She gave her a hug.

Farah gladly accepted. She loved her family, Ashur included, but Brownie she couldn’t care less about.

“Grandma said she’s coming over here in about an hour. You know she never comes out, but she wants to be there for us,” Mia said.

That’s all Farah needed was to see Elise’s face right now. Farah was growing increasingly uncomfortable with everything and everybody.

“I almost forgot. Slade and them were over here earlier,” Mia told Farah. “They wanted to talk here instead of at Markee’s. They said they can’t be sure if they can trust him yet.”

It was unusual for Slade to come over to her house when she wasn’t home, but she understood not being able to trust his cousin Markee. Markee worked for Randy, the same man who called in the ransom for Audio and Chloe. The real twist was that Randy was also Farah’s ex-boyfriend. As it stood, her life was way messy.

“I never liked dude,” Shadow said, referring to Markee. “He got a lot of shit with him if you ask me.” He looked back out the window.

“Something happened while they were here though,” Mia added. “I gave Slade my key to get back in, because we were going to the morgue to identify Ma’s body.”

As Farah replayed in her mind the tapes of what Mia just said, a frightful expression covered her face. Immediately she hopped off the bed and dropped to her knees. Shadow stood up straight and looked at his frantic sister in motion. Removing the box from under the bed with her stories, she was desperately seeking two things: her journal for the month, and Knox’s phone.

When Mia saw her fling the books out of the box, she finally understood her horror. “Please tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t write about what you did to Knox in your book.” Farah looked at her without a response and Mia had her answer. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

“I been writing in these books all my life! What am I supposed to do? Just stop?”

Shadow walked over to them. “Farah, after all these fucking years? What the fuck is in them books anyway?”

She held her head down. “Everything.”

He leaned in. “Everything? Including the stuff we did that you knew about?”

“Yes.”

He put his hands over his face and paced in place. “Get the fuck out of here! Who does that kind of shit anyway? Just call the police and make a fucking recording!”

The moment he said that, the front door slammed. Farah hopped off the floor, and they all walked into the living room to see who was there. Standing side by side in the middle of the living room were Slade, Killa, and Major.

Della Baker was sitting on the recliner. When Farah walked out, she said, “So this is Farah Cotton? The girl who stole my son’s heart.” Della looked at Slade and, using her cane, pulled herself up.

Mia and Shadow stood next to Farah.

“Yeah . . . that’s her.” It was obvious that he was avoiding eye contact with Farah.

She searched his eyes to see how he felt about her, but saw nothing.

“Earlier today, Farah, my son found something on the way to the bathroom,” Della told her. “In your house.”

Mia looked at Killa and rolled her eyes. When she was home earlier, he kept saying how he had to go to the bathroom. Now it all made sense. He made no fewer than ten trips within an hour, but she didn’t think anything of it because Chloe was gone. “So you were snooping around?” she asked him. “In my house?”

Killa remained silent.

“I think we’re asking the wrong questions, young lady,” Della said. “How about we start by telling me how you got this?” She raised Knox’s phone in the air. “Let’s start there.”

Farah rocked in place and her heart skipped beats. There she was, gazing at Knox’s BlackBerry, the same phone she took from him after she sucked the blood out of his body and told him how sweet it was. Suddenly, she felt hot. She felt itchy, and she was certain a fresh bout of hives were coming along, which happened every time she stressed out. But she knew this would make her look guiltier. Breathe, Farah. You can do this. Take your time. Breathe.

“My nephew, Markee, told me that when he last saw Knox, he asked about a cute redbone at the end of the hall.”

Farah shrugged. “There are plenty of cute redbones in this building. One of them used to live here.”

“He led him to believe that he came to see you,” she told her. “He seemed very interested when he told him that Slade dealt with you.”

Farah felt dizzy. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know nothing about that. I never saw no Knox.”

“You okay, young lady?” Della asked, taking two steps closer with the use of her cane. Della was a strong woman, and Farah got the impression that the wooden cane wasn’t needed. If anything, judging by the way she clutched the handle, it would be used as a weapon. “Because you look like you seen a ghost.”

“My sister is sick!” Mia jumped to the rescue. Her hefty body matched her disposition: angry. She would rip the woman apart if she had to, and she stood between them like a personal guard to express her intentions. “She not used to all of this excitement. And, to be honest, I don’t much like how you coming at her.”

Della stared Mia directly in the eyes. Nobody scared Mia, not even her own mother, but, for the first time ever, she felt fear.

“Let me tell you something. I’ve done my best to leave my heart on the doorstep. Know that if I didn’t, everybody in here without a Baker name would be dead.”

“So you gonna come into our house and threaten us?” Shadow roared. “You better watch how you coming at my sister.” He stood next to Mia.

All of the Baker Boys stepped closer also, and Killa said, “And you better watch how you coming at my mother!”

“Everybody calm down,” Della said, raising her hand. When everyone backed down a little, she addressed Mia. “Now that we measured everybody’s dick size, let’s talk about the matter at hand. Why would a phone get her excited if she didn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of the man it belongs to?” She looked coldly into Mia’s eyes.

“I think this is getting out of control,” Farah said under her breath.

“It’s been out of control,” she corrected Farah. “And I haven’t gotten a satisfactory answer. How did you get my son’s phone?”

Farah knew keeping his phone was a risky move, and now she had to answer for it. “I gotta sit down for a second,” she told everyone. “I’ve had a crazy day.” She sat on the white sofa and the smell of leather slapped her in the nose.

“Do what you must, just as long as when you get up, you telling me something I want to hear.”

Farah had to think quickly if she wanted to make it out of the situation alive. She knew the look in Della’s eyes was official and she would not take lightly to someone lying to her face. The tension in the room was thick, and Farah found it difficult to breathe.

From the couch she took two quick breaths and said, “I got the phone from Eleanor McClendon’s house. Knox was living there for a period, before he went missing.” She swallowed a gulp of air and observed everyone. “When me and Slade went over to see about Knox, I saw it on the table. To be honest, I didn’t know who the phone belonged to until now.”

“Why you take it?” Killa asked in disbelief.

“Slade was questioning her about Knox and, to be honest, her responses seemed off to me. So I took it to go through it later . . . to see what we could find.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Slade gritted his teeth.

“Things moved so fast, Slade. And I forgot to tell you that I took it, but you gotta understand that I didn’t know who it belonged to.”

“Yeah, right,” Killa said. Major put his hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“I do love him,” she said angrily, “and I would never have kept this from him had I known. Why would I keep something from you this important, Slade? I know how hard you’ve been trying to find him. I even tried to support you in that search. You know that.”

Slade looked into her eyes, and an expression of hopefulness covered his face. He wanted to believe her, more than he wanted to be a Baker. After all, she was the love of his life. There wasn’t a bitch he could name, dead or alive, who ever rocked his heart the way Farah Cotton did. But the question remained, was she telling the truth? And, if not, why?

“All I can say is that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t know. And then with my mother dying, and my sister going missing, there wasn’t enough time. Think about it. We went to Eleanor’s yesterday, and today your brother and my sister are being held for ransom. When was there time to look through the phone? A phone was and is the last thing on my fucking mind. Slade, I’ve lost everything today. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“Did you say your mother died?” Slade approached the couch and sat next to her. The leather moaned under his weight. He grabbed her hands and held them in his. He was all man. He was all hers. “When this happen, baby? And why didn’t you tell me?”

His presence made her weak. And now that she knew he cared, she hunched downward and cried softly.

“We just found out our mother died today,” Mia said, eyes still on Killa. In her opinion, had he not gone sneaking around in their apartment, none of this would’ve happened. “And she’s right. Shit has been in motion ever since.”

“Are you okay, Farah? Is there anything I can do for you?” He rubbed her arm.

Yes. Don’t leave me. I’m going to be so bad if you leave me. “No, I’m fine. I just gotta catch my breath, that’s all.”

“Now everybody has the answer they were waiting on,” Mia said to Della. “So, now that y’all have your answer, can you please leave so we can deal with our loss in private? All this investigation shit is making me sick, and it’s not fair to me or my family.”

“Not so fast,” Della said, raising her cane slightly. “I want to see this Eleanor person.” She looked at the way Slade held Farah’s hand and was sick to her stomach. She saw his attachment, but she lived a long enough life in the South to know a snake when she saw one. “So where is this Eleanor person, Farah? We can clear all of this up right now.”

“She’s not too far from here,” Slade advised, remembering how to get to her house. “We can ride up there now.”

He moved to stand up, and she grabbed his hand. “No!” She paused. “Let me go find her first, since it was me who started this misunderstanding anyway.”

“But you got too much on your mind right now,” he responded. “Me and my brothers could roll over there.”

“No doubt,” Major said, eager to break this bitch’s back if she was lying about Knox’s whereabouts.

“Slade, please let me handle this. I’ll go to where she is and try to find out if she knows something. Plus, if you and your brothers go, you’ll scare her and she might run. You saw the look on her face when we went to her house.”

He scratched his head and remembered how fearful she looked. “Yeah, she was a little off.”

“See? So let me take care of this. It’s the least I can do.”

Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door. Farah knew immediately who it was before she even answered. Slowly she walked toward it anyway and gazed through the peephole. On the other side was her grandmother, Elise, ready to get all up in the business. And she was wearing her blue dress suit with the matching church hat, which meant one thing: she was coming to preach.

“It’s Grandma,” Farah said to Mia and Shadow.

“Shit,” Shadow said, wiping his hand over his forehead.

Farah twisted the knob as she simultaneously tried to think of an excuse to get rid of her. Elise was an embarrassment, and although it was wrong, it was also true.

The moment the door opened, Elise’s strong body odor threatened to knock everybody into the next decade. Although Elise washed her body every day with scalding hot water, she didn’t use soap due to being stricken with porphyria, so her odor was always overpowering.

“Hey, Grandma,” Farah whispered, blocking her entrance as if she were waiting for her to pay admission. “Now is not a good time. Can you come back later?”

Elise pushed past Farah, knocking her off her game. “It’s always a good time for your grandmother.” When she walked farther inside and observed the audience she said, “I didn’t know you had company.” She placed her tattered brown purse on the kitchen counter, along with her church crown. Then she approached the matriarch of the Baker family, Della, who was waiting in the living room with the others. She extended her rough, calloused hand. “My name is Elise Gill, and you are?”

With a firm shake she said, “Della Baker.” She looked at her sons. “And these are my boys.”

“Ma’am,” each of the Baker Boys said, nodding one by one at Elise. Della and her boys tried to be respectful and keep straight faces, although Elise’s odor was strong.

Elise scanned her grandchildren. “Well . . . somebody want to tell me what’s going on?” Elise was inquisitive and knew something was off, based on the thickness of the tension in the room. “Are you all here because of my daughter passing today? Or is it another matter?”

“No,” Della responded. “Unfortunately, we’re here because my son is missing, although you and your family have my sincere condolences.” She turned back to Farah. “Before your grandmother arrived, you were saying that you were going to visit Eleanor. Why don’t you go ahead and do that now? And, if you don’t mind, I want her brought back here. I have some questions I want to ask her personally.”

“I understand,” Farah said in a childlike voice. The woman gave her chills of the worst kind. “But what if she doesn’t want to come back with me?”

“That’s why I said I can go with you, Farah,” Slade interrupted. “I can make her come with us.”

“No, no.” She extended her hands. “I know what to do. You and me both know she got a heroin habit. I’ll bribe her back with me. It’ll be fine.”

“What is going on?” Elise questioned.

“Not right now, Grandma,” Farah said.

“What about one of us going with you instead?” Shadow asked. “She don’t have nothing against us. Plus, I don’t want you handling this alone.”

“I got it.”

“Somebody want to tell me who the fuck is Eleanor?” Elise interrupted. “And where is Chloe?”

Everyone cleared their throats but Della.

“Chloe is hanging out,” Farah said. “And Eleanor is nobody you need to be worried about.”

Farah dipped into her bedroom, grabbed her coat, and headed back into the living room. She didn’t want her grandmother anywhere near her business. Not to mention they had yet to drop the bomb that Chloe was being held for ransom. “Let me do what I have to and I’ll be right back.”

She swished past everyone and stole one last look at Slade. She observed his chocolate skin, his tall, built body, and even the scar on the right side of his neck. She was willing to do whatever she could to keep that man. Anything. And that included getting rid of the one person on earth who knew she was a liar.

On her way out the front door, a black kid with a grin on his face was staring at her. In his hand was a red box with a lid on it. He stuffed it into her hands and yelled, “Message!” before bolting down the hallway.

She started to run back into the house, remembering the promise Randy made just three days earlier. He said he would kill her, her family, and her father, Ashur. The box could’ve been a bomb or anything.

But when it fell on the grungy floor and the lid covering it toppled over, out flew a picture of Farah bent down in front of her white Benz. She was crouched over Knox’s bloodied body, with a hand placed firmly on his nose and mouth. Who took this picture? Oh my God. Please don’t let this be happening right now.

At first she thought one of her friends betrayed her, until she remembered Coconut, Rhonda, and Natasha were all in the car when she tried to kill Knox the first time. They could not have taken the picture personally. Then she thought about her ex-roommate, Lesa Carmine, and her friends Courtney and Lady. They had been in a war for months over who had a right to be in the apartment. But they didn’t know each other at that time, so she reasoned that it couldn’t be them.

The angle of the photo showed someone had to have taken the picture from the right, outside of the car. Possibly from the building. Maybe it’s Eleanor, she thought. I definitely have to get my hands on that bitch now.

She was just about to hurry and find her, until she heard the click-clack of Della’s cane from behind. When she turned around and looked up, she was staring down at her.

“What’s that in your hands?”

Randy was leaned back in a chair in his backyard, smoking trees. It was the only seat in his house. He had packed and moved everything else into his new place across town. Why? Because the nigga had beef of the worst kind.

He pulled on the sweet smoke and it rolled up the back of his mouth and out into the air. It was cold as a mothafucka outside, but he didn’t mind. Not only was one of his stash houses hit, leaving him with virtually no inventory, he had reason to believe that Slade and his brothers, along with his father, Willie Gregory, were to blame.

His heart told him not to call his father, but he needed to know if there was a possibility that they could make things right before things turned deadly. Besides, half of the reason his stash was robbed was his fault.

When Willie left the DC-based drug operation he started in his son’s hands after being imprisoned, he was confident that Randy would turn it back over to him when he came home. Instead, Randy gave him a package, a small area, and a small team to run it. He was learning it was a big mistake.

He removed his cell phone from his pocket and dialed his father’s number. It didn’t take long for him to answer. “Dad, can I talk to you?”

“It depends on what we rapping about.” His voice was strong and confident, and Randy knew he had everything to do with the robbery.

Trying to maintain his calm, he pulled again on the loud he was smoking. “What you mean?”

“Did you put a bounty on my head for fifty thousand dollars?” he asked. “After everything I did for you?”

Sure, Randy put the bounty on his head. When he learned that his stash houses were robbed, Willie was the first person he thought of. Why? Because some of Randy’s men were still loyal to Willie and undoubtedly turned against him. So the question was not if he put a hit on his father’s head, but who told? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you do. But just so you know, the bounty is reversed. The only difference is I’m paying one hundred thousand for your head. You see, son, you’re worth much more to me dead. Rest easy, because you won’t have too many peaceful nights left.”

Randy stood up and the blunt fell out of his hand. If he knew one thing, it was that money motivated men to do some evil things. “So I guess we have nothing else to discuss?”

Willie responded by hanging up.

Randy stuffed his phone into his pocket and paced the ground. He didn’t understand what was happening and why all of a sudden. He wanted to blame somebody, anybody, but the finger kept pointing in his direction. With his mother dead, he lost the only relative he had left in the world.

When Victor, aka The Vet, and Andrew, aka Lollipop, walked out back, he welcomed the interruption of his thoughts. He was hoping to get some good news.

“Sorry to bother you, Ran. Musty let us in and told us you were out back,” Lollipop said.

Musty took Tornado’s place as his bodyguard after Slade beat him to death with his bare hands in Farah’s hallway. Musty was larger, stronger, and didn’t speak much unless Randy told him to. He did a bang-up job of keeping the boss safe, and Randy could rest a little easier when he was in the building. So, without a doubt, although they both were on his squad, neither The Vet nor Lollipop would be inside his home unless Randy gave Musty the okay.

“You not bothering me,” Randy told them. “Unless you not telling me what I want to hear. . . .