Page 24 of The Birthday Girl
Only the house at the end of the road stood, swallowing the block in its unnatural stillness. His gut twisted because it felt as though he had been dropped into the center of a horror movie. Black people did not fuck around in places like that. Messing with the dead, the haunted, or anything that put you close to the edge was always a no-go.
“Jimmy’s right. I don’t give a fuck how much money she got, you won’t be able to pay me to come back to this bitch twice,” Tremaine replied, chills streaming down his spine as he continued to stare at the home.
He uneasily rubbed his palm against his jeans. He had run jobs in plenty of neighborhoods, but never one like Brentwood Park. His mother had once told him that back in the fifties, the government sent airplanes to poison the air, killing more thana thousand people. Now, sitting there with his eyes roaming the street, he could’ve sworn he saw their restless souls drifting through the shadows.
Each second that passed wound him tighter, his nerves pulling taut until his nerves started to get the best of him. “I don’t know about this. Something don’t feel right.”
Mercedes killed the engine and leaned back, grinning. “Don’t start that shit. We’re here early. Let’s get in position before Tahlia shows up.”
Jimmy slid a clip into his Glock, racking it with a metallic snap that cut through the still night. “Let’s get it.”
Tremaine kept his eyes on the house, his voice low. “Yeah… let’s,” Tremaine added, but deep in his gut, he knew he should’ve turned his ass around.
“Alright, this is the plan,” Mercedes said, looking between her brother and her man. “You two go inside the house and keep low, and I’ll stay out here to meet Tahlia. She won’t be dumb enough to hand me a bag without thinking she’s getting something in return, but I’ll convince her to let me see the money first. The second I put eyes on the cash, I’ll give you a signal. That’s when y’all come out, hit her and her people hard, and we take everything.”
Tremaine’s head snapped toward her. “Inside that house?” He jabbed a finger at the sagging two-story at the end of the block. “Hell no, I’m not walking in there. I did ten years, Merce, but I don’t fuck around with haunted shit.”
Jimmy laughed from the back seat. “Man, you sound like a bitch. It’s just a house. Ghosts ain’t the ones with the money, and I need that.” He leaned between the two front seats. “If I have to go in there by myself, then shit’s getting split fifty-fifty. Niggas don’t get paid for doing nothing.”
Tremaine’s jaw flexed as he stared at the house again, every part of him screaming for him to stay outside or disappear intothe night. However, broke men didn’t get to listen to their gut. Broke men swallowed their fear and did what needed to be done.
He exhaled heavily through his nose. “Fine. I’ll do it, but if this shit goes left, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Mercedes smirked, satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Now quit bitching and stick to the plan.”
Jimmy laughed with excitement. “We ‘bout to be rich, big bro. No more counting quarters for gas money. Hundred racks, just like that.”
Tremaine shot him a look, his voice flat. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. That kind of money don’t come easy.” He shook his head at Jimmy’s naivety. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Okay. Y’all head inside, stay low and wait for my damn signal before you move.”
Jimmy slid his Glock into his waistband and pushed open the car door. “Say less.”
“We got this,” Tremaine and Jimmy said simultaneously before the two headed toward the house.
9- Lover’s Embrace
Tremaine's boots dragged to a stop at the end of Cottonwood Lane. The porch steps sagged beneath splintered railings, and plywood sheets covered what had once been windows. He pushed the door with two fingers, and it swung inward with a long, low whine that raised the hairs on his neck.
His first breath caught in his throat. It was so sour and thick, he gagged, tasting green-black mold, the sweetness of something dead in the walls, and underneath it all, a coppery tang coated his tongue as if a penny held there too long.
Tremaine stepped inside first, followed by Jimmy, their shoes sinking into damp carpet littered with fragments of plaster. The first thing they noticed was the broken furniture scattered across the floor. Chairs were overturned, and a sofa had been gutted of its stuffing.
Mannequins with cracked faces slumped against the walls, their glass eyes glinting in the weak glow of Jimmy’s phone. A bloodied chainsaw, fake but convincing, lay in the corner wherean actor must have dropped it years ago. Torn curtains hung from the ceiling, painted with splatters of fake blood that had dried into dark stains.
The farther they moved, the more the house seemed designed to trap them. A skeletal figure dangled from a noose in the stairwell, its plastic bones yellowed with age. A hospital gurney blocked part of the hallway, the leather straps still buckled tight as though something might be writhing beneath the sheet that covered it. Even the wallpaper was diseased, bubbled, and peeling in strips.
Jimmy swept his phone across the room, his grin stretching wide. “Damn, this is crazy. People weren’t lying when they said this place is straight out of a horror flick.”
“Fuck that shit. Stick to the business.” Tremaine glared at him. “Let’s post up by the window, so we can keep an eye on Mercedes and wait for her signal.”
Jimmy chuckled, his curiosity pulling him toward the hallway. “You too paranoid for me. Look at this place. I gotta see what’s upstairs. They used to say they staged people hanging themselves up there. I wonder if those ropes are still on the beams.”
Tremaine rubbed his palm hard against his jeans, nerves driving him crazy. “Man, you not gon’ shut up about it until you go look, so just go. I’ll keep watch, and if you not back when she signals, I’ll text you before I head out there. Just know, if you don’t help hit this lick, you ain’t gettin’ shit.”
“I hear you.” Jimmy gave a careless salute, edging deeper into the shadows.
Jimmy's sneakers scuffed against the warped floorboards, each step echoing throughout the hollow rooms.
