Page 51 of Jobe

He shook his head slowly, “I don’t know, doll. You tell me what you want to do with them? I kept these because they were my constant reminder of what a desperate dumb-ass I’d been to throw away the most important person in my life out of fear. I honestly don’t need them anymore, now that I have you again.”

Sucking her lips in as she moved her gaze down to the ribbon bound, tear-stained letters in her hand. “I think I’d like to keep them, just because they are a part of our journey.” She quickly amended, “But if they bother you then we can get rid of them.”

He took her hands in his as he stood, helping her up from the floor. Placing the small sheaf of letters in his hand onto the stack that were in hers, he wrapped both of their hands around the entire packet. Holding her gaze, he said, “These represent who we were. We can keep them to remember another time and as a reminder of what we never want to be again…and that is apart from each other.”

Offering him a small smile through teary eyes, she nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. We can get rid of them sometime in the future.” She allowed him to gently take the stack from her fingers and watched as he placed them in the footlocker in the back of the closet.

He walked back, stopping long enough to wrap his arms around her, pulling her in for a sweet kiss. One of promises of the future. Then he settled back on the bed as she grinned and moved on to the next box, continuing to hang her clothes next to his.

* * *

Miles away near the river, the Sixers brought in their first load of guns, delivered from Miami. The gun runners slipped in unnoticed and docked at the back of an old, unused pier. Jazzie, Waldo, Tank, and a few others were there, along with some of the River Street Kings. Tension ran as high as the distrust among the two gangs.

The ones delivering the firearms stepped off of the boat looking for the one in charge. “Jazzie?” one of them called out.

Jazzie swaggered forward, making a sign. He nodded toward the men behind him and they moved to begin unloading the boat. The wooden crates were opened as Jazzie was allowed to inspect. Smiling, he jerked his head to the Kings standing back and they hustled over to take possession of one of the crates. The others were for the Sixers and with another jerk of Jazzie’s head, his men moved to quickly load those into the vans parked nearby.

The payoff made, the Sixers jumped into the two vans and drove away. As they headed back to the rendezvous point, Waldo looked over at Jazzie.

“What the fuck you staring at?” Jazzie barked.

“You think that girl’s got Tito’s head?”

Jazzie warred between being pissed at a fellow officer questioning the leader and knowing that he felt the same. After a few tense, quiet moments, he asked, “What’s got you thinking?”

“Tonight. Tito seemed…I don’t know. Distracted. When I was about to ask if it was about the delivery tonight, he said something really random and it shocked the shit outta me.”

Jazzie spared him a glance, not saying anything.

Waldo shook his head. “Probably nothing. But he suddenly said that he wondered how far along that Gabby bitch was and when he’d know if it was a boy or not.”

“Goddamnit!” Jazzie cursed, his hand slapping the steering wheel. Trying to negotiate a deal with an international organization at the same time as having to work with the Kings and moving into a new venture was not the time for their leader to be distracted with some pregnant pussy.

They continued driving for a few more minutes in silence. Finally, Jazzie said, “Keep your goddamn eyes open and your mouth shut. Don’t say nothin’ to nobody.” He glanced over, seeing Waldo nod. “Good. I’m workin’ on how to get rid of that skank so that we get our leader back to thinking with the head on his shoulders and not on the end of his dick.”

As they pulled into the secure rendezvous location, Jazzie knew that it was time to take on Gabby…and that white bitch as well. But only when the opportunity came along. He had to play this smart.

17

For the next several weeks, Mackenna and Jobe settled into a routine. She still divided her time between New Beginnings and her DSS office, but spent more and more time trying to find extended funding. Even with the new security at the shelter, she felt as though they would all be safer if they were away from the area that gangs were near. Of course the more she learned about gangs, the more she realized that they were everywhere—even in suburbia.

Penny was getting out more, utilizing the pool for exercise and visiting with the Delaros and other friends. She only had the home nurse come once a week for about an hour and her speech therapy sessions were only twice a week. She now traveled by taxi to the physical therapist and loved her new independence.

Matt and Shane had kept Tony’s group in the loop about what was going on in the city. The police were keeping up their vigilance and on the surface, things had cooled down. But they also knew it was only a front.

Meeting one morning, they all gathered around to find out what intelligence Lily and BJ had been able to ferret out.

Lily smiled as she reported, “It didn’t take much. These guys aren’t very sophisticated when it comes to their money. Tito Montalvo himself has a rather meager bank account. But he does move money through it to his uncle’s grocery store business. Then there are withdrawals from that account into various others, including Waldron Perkins and Thomas Jazine.”

“Waldo and Jazzie,” Shane said. At Lily’s lifted eyebrow, he added, “That’s the street names of the Sixer’s officers under Tito.”

“But knowing who did the drive-by shooting at Mackenna’s place should make a difference, doesn’t it?” Jobe asked in frustration.

“We got Poco in jail. Of course, he admits to everything but won’t roll on anyone else.”

“He admitted?” Vinny asked. “He didn’t try to punk out?”

Matt shook his head. “Nah, man. It’s their creed. They can’t deny the gang.”

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