Residual Effect

By Eddie Caine

His father died when he was six years old, but Nicholas Williams still grew up a little on the nerdy side. He was always respectful, stayed out of trouble, and was a model citizen.

Life began to take a turn for Nicholas when he found out his financial aid was revoked and he had a warrant for his arrest for child support arrearage. Nicholas was in danger of losing his freedom, his degree, and his long time girlfriend and baby momma were in constant drama.

Nicholas was at a crossroads until he became a local hero by stopping a corner store robbery. Eventually, Nicholas did the unthinkable by seeking the help of a drug-dealing cousin. Ignoring warnings and the trappings of the street life, Nicholas got a taste and was instantly hooked.

With each passing day, Nicholas’ demeanor changes and he loses focus on what matters most. The deeper Nicholas gets in the Atlanta crime world, the closer he gets to the truth of his father’s death, his girlfriend and his family’s secrets.

“Eddie Cain’s writing is reminiscent of Donald Goines.”
~Gaynielle Neville

“Eddie Caine’s books read like a movie.”
~L. Hicks

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eddie Caine
• Release date: Apr 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310979521

Eddie Caine

About Eddie Caine:Born in New Orleans, Louisiana, the Birth Place of Jazz, Eddie Caine developed a passion for music, theater and creative writing at an early age. Caine was influenced by the rich culture of the Crescent City and was captivated by its corruption, violence, and passion for festivities.Eddie Caine developed a unique writing style when he incorporated poetry into his storytelling. His words were interwoven with spirituality, passion, grittiness, political and social commentary, that leaves the reader in awe.Not just an author, Eddie Caine is the founder of Sewil Publishing, and is an award-winning Performance Poet and Spoken Word Artist having toured throughout the U.S. and the Caribbean performing for thousands.In addition to his live performances Caine has recorded several CDs and hosts a weekly panel discussion, Fiyah Conversations and is the Programming Director of Eddie Cain Radio; a digital radio platform that features Spoken Word Artists, Independent Authors, Motivational Speakers, and Indie-musicians and vocalists.

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Residual Effect

Eddie Caine

Copyright © 2016 Sewil Publishing

All rights reserved

Published in association with Write On ePublishing, LLC

Smashwords Edition

No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

{The Metamorphosis)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

About the Author

Frozen Like Water… The Chronicles of Caine Vol. 1

Chapter 1

FRIDAY

Man I hope you know what you’re doing! Ain’t no sane nigga is gonna rob a corner store like Lucky’s in broad day light! Jason, you officially lost it, D.T. said in his southern drawl, while swerving through lanes in the stolen midnight-black Acura, he now had it for two months.

Don’t you know that could really mess shit up with you and King Dollar? Shit, you could mess my shit up with him. D.T. glared at his long time friend in slight disgust, sick of the schemes and quick licks. He lit the freshly rolled Georgia Pine that was sitting in the ash tray and continued, I’m trippin’ dog. You know I got your back. Go get that money.

Reaching for the blunt, Jason said, I got this D.T. For one thing, everybody knows Lucky use them cameras as monitors and he don’t record nothing. Two: Ain’t no nigga gonna stop me from getting my paper! Shit, I got major plans involving King Dollar. You’re gonna see. Jason inhaled deeply, If I gotta end a life to get mine right, that’s just how it has to be. The sociopath put two shells in a 12 gauge and cocked the sawed-off death machine. He exhaled the weed and turned up the music. Slow down, it’s coming up on the right. Jason rolled down a black clothed cap from his head exposing only his eyes and mouth.

~

A slim, 5’10, mocha-complexioned, young twenty- something, nerdy looking man, with a half picked afro, wearing: wrinkled khakis and a sweater vest, was jolted back to reality with screams of fright from customers at the neighborhood Lucky’s Corner Store, on MLK and Central.

Damn, could this day get any worse, Nico thought, as he fixed his broken glasses held together by black tape. He then clinched a pack Pull-Ups. I don’t have time for this. It’s bad enough that meeting went south.

The masked gunman fired one shot in the air to let everyone know he wasn’t playing, and yelled, Alright everyone shut the fuck up and do as I say and this will all be over with as soon as you know it. If nobody moves, nobody gets hurt! Are we clear?

The cashier and customers nodded their heads in agreement. Jason threw a brown shopping bag to the Middle Eastern clerk and told him to fill it up.

Chaos began to erupt as the cashier was filling brown paper bag with money from the cash register. A pregnant woman in line began to panic and tried to make a break for the exit. While the woman was desperately running pass the masked assailant, Jason reached out and grabbed her long hair, stopping her in mid tracks, instantly causing her feet to run from under her and hit the floor.

Jason kneeled over the pregnant woman and began to scream in his southern drawl, Bitch this ain’t a game! Do you wanna die?

No, please, I’m sorry. Just don’t hurt my baby! The woman frantically cried and pleaded, staring into the eyes of Jason.

Shut the fuck up! Jason yelled as he grabbed the back of the young woman’s neck, Stand up!

Nico stood there watching how the pregnant woman was being treated. He felt helpless. His calm was fading away as he gritted his teeth and tightly clutched the children’s training pants under his arm, rubbing his moist palms.

The cashier saw that the armed robber was distract and pressed the silent alarm.

Hurry up you sand nigga, before I send your ass back to Bin Ladin in a body bag! Jason continued yelling. By that time, his arm was wrapped around the pregnant woman throat and he was using her as a hostage. I’ll blow this bitch’s brains to kingdom come, if you don’t have the bag full by the time I count down from five, four …

Please don’t shoot, the cashier pleaded, as he frantically filled up the bag.

Nico looked out the door and saw the black Acura go into reverse and speed off as sirens were being heard in the distance.

Jason heard D.T.’s tires screeching. Fuck! Jason screamed out. He then pulled the trigger of his shot gun out of frustration, Give me the bag! Nervousness and irritation escaped his voice.

Jason snatched the bag from the cashier, smacked the pregnant woman and pushed her to the floor. That is when Nico blew his top. He rushed the robber in full fury, throwing only one punch, knocking Jason out. The gun and bag of money flew from Jason’s hands and slid across the floor.

Everyone witnessing the fiasco stood there with open mouths. Nico hated a man putting his hands on a woman; especially, a defenseless, pregnant woman. Breathing heavily, he jumped on top of the robber and began hitting him until the pregnant woman grabbed his arm and begged Nico to stop.

You’re going to kill him, the pregnant woman said as she looked at Jason’s bloodied, mask-less face. She then smiled, rubbed her stomach and gratefully said, We thank you. The young woman glared at Jason as she picked up her purse.

Everything seemed surreal. It felt like a dream. Was this really happening? Nico had never been a violent person; or one who condoned such actions. It wasn’t in his nature. This was definitely out of his character and so was the next thing he was about to do. Nico stood up, breathing deeply with sweat dripping from his brow, looking at everyone gazing at him like a hero. He stared down at his red knuckles and watched the blood form droplets, then hit the floor next to the brown bag of money and shotgun. Nico could become a media hero and realized his life was about to forever change. Instead of waiting for the news crews and 15 minutes of fame, Nico snatched the brown bag and the sawed off shotgun. He bolted out of Lucky’s Corner Store as fast as he could.

~

In a small, 700 square foot, two-bedroom apartment, Nico was in his bedroom pacing back and forth, wringing his hands, while talking to his reflection in the large wall mirror. What in the hell were you thinking? Dumb, dumb, dumb! You really messed up this time, Nico!

Nico was full of nervous adrenaline, as if he received a shot of epinephrine. Shaking hands put a Marlboro cigarette to dry lips, as Nico tried to light the cancer stick with a strike anywhere match. His heart calmed as he inhaled the nicotine. The momentary hero of the store robbery counted the dead presidents in the brown paper bag one last time. Once he finished counting, Nico closed the bag and threw it on the unmade queen size bed. He began to nervously rummage through the top drawer of his scratched-up, wooden dresser. Bypassing various sizes and colors of random important papers, Nico found the black and white composition notebook and pen he was searching for.

As clammy hands opened the notebook, Nico sat on the edge of the bed and began to write: Today, the unspeakable happened. I was in line at Lucky’s and it got robbed. This dude hit a pregnant woman and something in me snapped. I ran up and cold cocked him; left him snoring. I don’t know what made me take money and run…

The doorbell rung; followed by heavy knocking. Nico quickly hid the brown bag under some dirty clothes in his closet, and placed the opened notebook back in the top dresser drawer. Still nervous, Nico looked in the mirror, told himself to be cool and checked his watch. It had been five hours since the beginning of his metamorphosis. Nico grabbed his newly acquired shotgun from under the bed, cocked it, and slowly crept across the wooden floor to the front door. He tried to see out of the peephole but it was blocked by someone on the other side of the door.

Mustering up as much bass in his voice as possible, Nico asked loudly, Who is it? There was no reply. Nico yelled one more time with a slight cracking in his voice, If you don’t answer me, I’m going to put a hole thru this door the size of your chest; then check your wallet so I’ll know where to send the flowers!

You ain’t gonna do shit nigga. Now open up before I take this bitch off the hinges, a muffled voice said from the other side of the door, and then followed by laughter. Come on Nico, it’s me, Tracy. Let me in.

Nico let out a sigh of relief as he un-cocked the sawed off, You need to quit playing. Man, move your finger from the peephole. That’s how people get killed.

From the other side of the door, Tracy heard two dead bolts being unlocked, as well as a chain being taken off of the door. He stood there with his arms crossed as jet-black locks draped past his shoulders and mumbled something about Nico being worse than an old lady. Come on man, it’s hot out here. Hurry up!

I should leave your ass out there to freeze to death, playing with me like that, Nico joked as he cracked the door to see a 6’2, dark chocolate man. Nigga, how are you going to wear Timberlands in the middle of the summer? You’re not even from the East coast.

Come on cousin, quit playing, Tracy said, as he wiped sweat from his brow. He began to roast his cousin, How are you going to wear a sweater vest in the middle of the summer? We’re in hot ass Atlanta?

Nico released a couple of chuckles then put the shotgun against the couch and let his older cousin in. When Tracy walked in, he noticed the sawed-off next to the tattered sofa, and proceeded to head toward the kitchen to quench his thirst. What do you have to drink? Do you have water, juice, beer, or champagne?

Nico looked at Tracy with a confused look. What are you talking about? Champagne? You know I don’t mess with that.

Tracy began to laugh, Nigga, you know what I'm talking about. I didn’t believe it until I heard you talking like you had a big chest when I was knocking on the door. I saw that shotgun when I came in and I knew you did it!

Did what? Nico asked. He was trying to play dumb.

"Rob Lucky’s nigga, that’s what!" Tracy yelled out.

Shhh! Man, keep your voice down. I don’t need these people hearing my business! Nico said, as he peeped through the living room blinds.

. Awe shit, my lil cousin finally jumped off of the porch and got his cherry broke! It took your scary ass long enough, Tracy said, as he threw his arm around his little cousin for a side hug. Quit looking through the blinds like you’re paranoid or something. Tracy walked back to the kitchen.

Anyway, I didn’t rob Lucky’s, Nico exclaimed.

From the looks of that shot gun, it looks like you did; but I’m not judging, Tracy sarcastically blurted, as he rummaged through the refrigerator for something to drink. When I was outside and you were talking shit, I almost believed you. Tracy added with a slight laugh. How much did you get?

Eight and a half stacks give or take a few dollars, Nico confessed with his head held low.

You got $9,000 from that cheap ass A-RAB? Man, don’t be ashamed for what you did. This is going to benefit you more than any coke head, Tracy said, with conviction as he opened a bottle of water. He took a sip and asked, What are you going to do with it?

Nico began to pace back and forth. I need a car. Daniel needs a new bed and clothes. I want to get Leslie a ring but I can’t afford it. Damn it! Nico screamed out in frustration. Man I owe $12,000 or I won’t be able to graduate. If I don’t graduate, that means I won’t get the job at the accounting firm. Man, I don’t know what I’m going to do because this is not enough.

Calm down cousin. I know you’re stressed. Don’t worry. You’re going to get that degree. I’ll see you tonight at the card game and we can talk more about it later, Tracy said, as he gave his cousin a pound, then left.

Earlier that day

Wearing: brown shoes, khakis pant, blue buttoned-down, long-sleeve shirt, covered by a dark brown, sweater vest; Nico began to loosen his Mickey Mouse neck tie in the office of his financial aid counselor at Smithfield University, as he heard unsettling news about his academic future.

Sitting at her desk, the Financial Aid counselor, Ms. Jackson, took a deep sigh after looking at her computer. She said in an empathetic tone, "Mr. Williams, I’ve done all I can do to help you buy time to pay your fee bill. Now it is