Burning the Bridges

By Charles Blount

Local basketball star, Black Johnson, is college bound until he gets tangled in a timeworn feud initiated by his father. When Black’s brother, Keith, is murdered in the streets in cold blood, Black swears vengeance and promises his mother he’ll find those responsible for breaking apart their family.
Deep in the pursuit for answers regarding his brother’s murder, Black encounters a mysterious woman focused on her own path of revenge. As Black confronts the events surrounding his brother’s death, he uncovers mysteries that have been deeply buried by the people closest to him. Learning the truth can come at a high cost, especially when it means discovering his trust in others may have been misplaced.
Will Black turn to the one person whose past will reveal all the answers? Or will he have to risk the lives of those around him to avenge his brother and solve the secrets of the past?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665538237

Charles Blount

Charles Blount, born and raised in the South Bronx, lived the life he explains in his book, Whatever Happened to Charlie Boy. He earned a B.A. in Paralegal Studies from Virginia Intermont College, Bristol, Virginia. Through the love and support of his extended family, Charles Blount found his “voice” to describe the forces of abuse, failure, and despair, seemingly inherent in his world as a child. These ‘forces’ proved to be inadequate in destroying the inner strength he used to rise above all that was against him. Currently, he devotes himself to working with “at-risk” children, by providing support and guidance to those who are navigating their way through tribulations. Charles believes that sacrifice builds strength; strength builds determination and determination yields success. Charles Blount, currently resides in Asheville, North Carolina with his daughter, Chloé Elisabeth.            

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© 2021 Charles Blount. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  01/09/2024

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3824-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3823-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021918993

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 The Alleyway

Chapter 2 The Drop-Off

Chapter 3 Deaths Final Hours

Chapter 4 The Crime Scene

Chapter 5 Facing Death

Chapter 6 Sunday Lunch

Chapter 7 Touching The Glass

Chapter 8 Brooklyn High School

Chapter 9 Truth or Lies

Chapter 10 The Letter

Chapter 11 The Park Shoot Out

Chapter 12 One Week

Chapter 13 The Hideout

Chapter 14 The Search

Chapter 15 Secrets

Chapter 16 House Party

Chapter 17 Dream of Evidence

Chapter 18 Freedom of Truth

Chapter 19 Finding Answers

Chapter 20 Street Justice

Chapter 21 Burning The Bridges

Also, by CHARLES BLOUNT

Whatever Happened to Charlie Boy

Daddyhood: Being a Daddy and Not Just a Father

Purpose: A Journey to Wisdom

The Author’s Deeper Thoughts

____________________________

"Freedom is an individual standing in front of

a mirror, and responsibility is its reflection."

The Apostle Paul says in Romans chapter 12, Bless those who persecute you; bless do not curse. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: It is mine to avenge; I will repay, says the Lord.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks be to God.

Thanks to my wonderful family for supporting me throughout this process and journey. Without you guys, this book would not have been written.

Thanks to my friends for all their significant contributions and wisdom.

A special thanks to the following amazing people who challenged me throughout the years: Lydia Stevens, Developmental Editor and award-winning author of the Hellfire Series; Trenda London, Content Editor; Matthew Mikulski, Editor; Debbie Manber Kupfer, Editor and author of the P.A.W.S. Saga, Samantha Cooke Kurtz, Graphic Designer and Tiffany Lynne, Operations Manager at Gray Publishing Services for creating such an excellent cover.

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CHAPTER 1

THE ALLEYWAY

KEITH BUMPED INTO THE DUMPSTER with feces smeared beside it. Keith, an African American male, usually commanding every bit of his six-foot-two stature, hid his face under his favorite blue Yankees baseball cap. Not at all frightened or surprised at what just happened, he knew what he was getting himself into by standing in a dark, empty alley known as the soul snatcher.

Many people saw Keith as a small-time street thug, young and thirsty for money, but not his younger brother, Black. He was just the opposite, standing six-foot-ten, a senior in high school with a promising basketball career ahead of him. He always thought of Keith as his role model. They had a very close bond since childhood, and Keith vowed to shield his younger brother from the streets. At twenty years old, most of Keith’s friends were locked up or dead, and his father, James, once ran these streets. The streets would soon catch up to James, costing him everything, including his freedom, landing him behind bars and leaving his family with a lot of unanswered questions. Keith’s mother, Jackie, is a small, petite, average-sized woman. A devoted churchgoer who dedicated her life to the boys’ and girls’ club while raising her two boys in one of the most dangerous cities in the world, the Bronx. Jackie always prayed for her boys to grow up differently than their father and become successful men. She would say anything less is not worth living for. Keith would never listen to his mother when she tried having these talks, but Jackie unconditionally embraced her motherhood anyways.

Keith dropped out of high school during his senior year against his mother’s wishes and set his sights on building a secret career of transporting drugs throughout the city for the powerful and wealthy. The streets had a different plan for Keith. He had a hard time climbing his way through the ranks. There were many long nights where he tried the traditional route of standing on street corners, watching his back 24/7, and being stopped by the cops every other week. The streets were already full of drug pushers and criminal gangs, and Keith knew if he was going to succeed in this business, he’d have to find another route to the top. But before he could put his new plans in motion, he was arrested.

Spending long nights unable to get comfortable, twisting and turning on a thin mattress and a stiff green pillow, Keith realized while counting the concrete bricks that made up his jail cell walls that this life was not worth the risk and wasn’t going to make him rich. Keith found himself once again trying to pivot his life’s game plan. This time, he would need a better plan if he ever was going to escape the streets for good. Keith was getting out tomorrow afternoon and had to think of something good and fast. Meanwhile, sitting at the window peeking through the drapes, rocking herself back and forth with glossy eyes full of tears, another night passes, hoping that when Keith walks through those doors, he will finally tell her he is done with the street life for good. For Jackie, this was a parent’s worst nightmare, having her son spend the rest of his life behind bars or worse, dead. Keith had big dreams, different dreams, though. Not even his mother’s profound love for him would drag him from the streets. No matter how hard he tried to make an honest living when he got out, there was still something buried in him that was anchoring him to his old life.

With the arguing between Keith and his mother worsening and having no luck finding a better-paying job for months, it just became too much. Keith took off his blue work vest, name tag still pinned to the right shoulder, and tossed it onto his manager’s office chair. Keith just walked off his last night shift and had no plans on coming back. Keith’s big break came from an old cellmate during his last lockup. He was given a number to call with strict instructions to burn the card after using it. Debating with himself for days, Keith decided to take a chance and use the number his old cellmate gave him to slowly climb back into the game, and it paid off. This time, it was going to be different. He was going to be a transporter, making more money than he ever dreamed. With his father off the streets, Keith had picked up where his father left off ten years ago.

Keith’s eyes darted back and forth around the alley as he rubbed his hands together, fighting a cold this late-November New York night. He was killing the transporter game, and nothing was going to bring him down. The lit alley was typically quiet, with only the sound of far-off sirens and lone abandoned newspaper sheets swirling about. Trying to stay calm, Keith waited for Mark to come through with the package. This shouldn’t take long. Ten grand in my pocket. Damn, what’s that awful smell? I hate meeting in these shitty alleys. The unwelcoming odor of garbage, urine, and spoiled food assaulted his nostrils.

As cigarette butts piled up around Keith’s feet, his phone started bellowing a horrid siren sound followed by a flashing AMBER ALERT message that lit up his screen. Before he could even finish reading that the alert was for his area, out of nowhere, Keith spots a police car patrolling past the alley, shining its bright spotlights in all directions. Keith stepped back until the car’s lights faded into the shadow of darkness. Damn, that was mad close. Mark, you picked a hot spot this time. I don’t know what to expect out here tonight, but I have a strange feeling those police officers will be back. They were searching for something. Maybe, it’s that little boy they’re out here looking for. This guy needs to come on, Keith spoke in a low voice.

Meanwhile, across the street, laying on the rooftop, was a man dressed in all black with a sniper rifle aimed in a prone position pointing directly at him. The man’s black ski mask and hat hung low to cover his eyes as he watched, staring through his scope, waiting for Keith to leave the alley.

Keith pulled out his phone and pushed the call button, only to get a voicemail. He pushed the end button, sliding the phone back into his pocket. His watch read 8:10 p.m. Keith pulled out a small silver flashlight from his pullover pocket and shone it in all the nearby, unlit places. His nerves started to get the best of him. The streets were littered with trash, and the raunchy smell continued to assault his nose. Damn! Mark, where are you? And you said I didn’t need to pack any heat? Yeah, right! I’m giving this dude five more minutes, and I am out.

Keith clicked the light back off and slipped it into his pocket. He camouflaged his slender built body against the greasy dumpster’s side to hide from the light. After what seemed like an eternity, Keith thought he heard something in the alley. Quickly, Keith repositions himself, feeling the tension in the air as he closely listens.

The sound of slow-moving tires crept into the alley, betrayed by the loose gravel from the heavily cracked pavement underneath them. The wheels came to a groaning halt a few seconds later, and it took a moment to realize the sound was not his imagination.

Shit, Keith caught himself whispering, more than half-surprised that someone would drive blind down an alley, much less this soul-snatcher alley. He noticed what looked like the front edge of an Escalade about fifteen yards out, the rest of the SUV entirely out of view. Keith started feeling his way against the brick building, trying not to blow his cover by staying in the shadow of the dumpster.

Keith stepped on something that started soft but ended with a crunch. Damn, you have to be kidding me. Keith jumped back and looked down at a bloody mouse squished beneath his shoe.

Keith continued moving forward to get a better look, swiping the sole of his shoe to rid the mouse’s viscera on a damp piece of soggy cardboard next to the dumpster. The sound of his cell phone started ringing in his right front jean pocket. Fuck, there goes my cover.

Keith glanced down and quickly silenced the phone, hoping its faint light had not drawn attention. Mom, not now. I’ll call her later. Sliding his phone into his back pocket this time, it would not blow his cover if it lit up again. Keith recently did a few lucrative grab-and-drops for Mark, but his identity remained a mystery. Finally, meeting Mark in person would be one of his most important jobs, so he leaned back and waited in the shadows, carefully listening for movement.

Not hearing any car doors opening or closing, Keith’s mind entered a whirlwind. What if the police officers followed me here? Damn, calm the fuck down. No time to be nervous. I must stay focused on the prize. I’m here strictly to get paid, not fuck up and go to jail for the rest of my life … not today.

The Escalade was still quiet, and fear crept into his heart. Keith slowly slid his hand down and grabbed his gun. He had already lost a couple of close friends in his first few years of not ‘getting an honest job and wasn’t about to end up like them. If he could finally put a face to someone who had ushered him into a new echelon of work bricks instead of bags in the last few months. The work without all the chest-thumping drama and pissing-contest shootouts would be worth it.

Keith’s heart thudded in his ears, fast and staccato. The option to take control was out of his grasp, which bothered him the most. That and simply not knowing what awaited him in the shadows. "Fuck it." Keith stepped out from the brick wall and quickly looked behind him, not seeing or hearing anything. His only option was to play it cool. Checking his messages, keeping his cap down and eyes just beyond the screen. Still nothing from Mark.

Not three steps into Keith’s routine and several yards from the Escalade, two beams of slightly off-center lights blinded his vision. Keith threw his arm over his eyes, Ach! Mark, is that you? Thank God. It’s about time. I can’t see a damn thing out here.

Instead, Keith heard the Escalade’s engine rev. What the fuck is going on here? I’m glad you decided to show up. Shit, you had me worried there for a second. And can you please, kill those lights? Cops are crawling all over the damn place. We need to move now. Keith stumbled backward when he heard the engine rev for the second time. Hey! Cut the shit. I came alone, just like we agreed. Now, are we going to do business or what? We don’t have time to be fuckin’ around! Keith did not know what to do or think at that point.

Everything he had ever done finally caught up with him. Someone in the streets had his name on the hit list. Who could that be? He felt trapped. I don’t owe anyone, maybe one or two. Shit, that was a long ass time ago. Keith watched as his eyes adjusted to the light, seeing the outline of the front and rear doors, nothing else. Four enormous men got out of the Escalade. They slammed their doors closed, causing Keith’s nerves to jump slightly. The whole setup, the Escalade, the men, the alley, it all confused the shit out of him.

Suddenly, a loud, deep voice ordered, Keep your hands where we can fuckin’ see them! Slowly empty your pockets, place everything at the bottom of your feet, and take three steps back! I am not going to repeat myself again!

You heard him! We don’t have all night, princess. Move it! Now motherfucker! The two men spoke like police officers. Keith swallowed thickly. If I make it out of here ….

I believe you have the wrong guy. I’m dead ass, serious! Three steps back. This was not part of the plan. Who the fuck is behind this shit? Fuck! I should’ve walked away when I still had the chance.

This is some crazy shit, Keith mumbled, taking a deep breath before digging into his pockets and tossing everything down in front of his feet, then raising his hands and counting out loud, 1…2…3…, moving backward slowly with each step. There! Now what?! The two nearest men stepped out of the dark shadows, walked around his stuff that littered the ground now, and stopped right in front of Keith. One man raised his gun, with the red dot aimed at the center of Keith’s chest, while the other man frisked him from head to toe. Keith had a confused look on his face.

Don’t you fuckin’ move, or my man will put a bullet square in your chest and one in your head. The sound of the man’s stern voice was convincing.

What are you guys doing? Yo! Come on, I’m clean. Mark said nothing about this … I swear this is some bullshit! Hey! Watch it down there. I swear this guy sounds like a cop.

Shut up! Look what we have here. You’re packing some heat, huh?! Not today, chump! We’ll take this piece off your hands. The man smirked in the Escalade’s direction, holding the small handgun. Damn, I am fucked. Keith’s world was turned upside down within a few minutes.

Seriously? You guys smell like cops. Look here, man! That won’t be necessary. I would’ve used it a long time ago if I wanted to. You guys have me mixed up with someone else. Hey, man! Are you listening to a fuckin’ word I am saying? You guys are wasting your time! You guys are lucky I’m outnumbered.

You wouldn’t do anything. Little bitch. The bald one leaned into Keith and whispered.

Oh, I got your little bitch right here, Keith mumbled.

Okay, tough guy. I’ll remember that. The man continued, He is all yours now. The other man spoke into his walkie-talkie. Then, they both walked back towards the Escalade and disappeared into the shadows.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Wait! What the hell is going on here?! The alleyway became dead silent.

Where the hell are you, Mark? Keith mumbled to himself, feeling edgy. Thinking by some chance, one of the four men was Mark. Perhaps, trying to throw him off. Keith could only hope at this point. Damn, I’m overthinking again. There’s no way Mark would change up at the last minute. It’s not his style. Plus, this was Mark’s idea, not mine. Keith started readjusting his clothes and quickly picked up his items. This is some bullshit. Keith hoped Mark would be calling or showing up soon. He was just there to meet him in person (for a change), ON FOOT, no less, pick up the goods, and drop them off on another side of the city for him. Mark had convinced Keith over the phone that this was a suitable meeting spot. In his mind, Mark would have a lot of explaining to do now. All the other drops were smooth, unlike this one.

Keith glanced back at his watch, realizing Mark was twenty minutes late. This isn’t like him. Then the half-smirk again, like clockwork. If you had asked him, as one of his buddies once did, how the hell Keith smiled on the rare occasion shit got intense, he would say something half-baked and primarily borrowed from his mom about life throwing you lemons but some sliver of you still hopes that you’ll just be laughing about it all later. Call it a moment of protective insanity.

Keith was taken aback by a woman’s heels clicking along the ground, coming closer. She stopped fifteen feet away from both him and the two goons. Keith could not believe his eyes. The woman stood about five feet eight inches, slim and curvy, with long black hair. She wore a cropped fur coat over an emerald, green cocktail dress with a slit up the side, stopping just above her knees and showing off her long legs with six-inch black heels.

That was not all she was wearing. Covering her face was a mask, like one of those sexy masquerade masks with feathers and sequins. It was black and silver and shined in the beam of the Escalade headlights. Immediately making him hot and bothered, Keith shook his head and looked away. Keith was still in danger. Mark said nothing about a woman showing up here. Who is this fine-ass lady with the mask covering her face? And what twisted-ass game are these fucktards playing? This lady is too hot and beautiful to be in these dangerous streets. There’s something strange about all this. What is it? Wait! No fuckin’ way! It can’t be her. That is when Keith realized he was in grave danger. The masked lady and her bodyguards were there to intercept their drop-off. This was not by accident, or was it?

Standing across from him was not just some sexy woman. She was one of the most dangerous and unpredictable women who ruled the streets. There were many Mafia crime families, street bosses, soldiers, etc. This woman is ruthless and strictly business.

Keith, usually great at keeping his cool despite the odds, felt that hot lump of pure fear in the back of his throat for the third time.

The first was when Keith was nine and had tried pushing his drunken father off his mom. The lump came when his father had turned around, face red with rage. The second lump came when Keith was thirteen and had been toying with joining a neighborhood gang. Two years older than Keith, a gang member put a pistol to his head seconds after laughing heartily with him over a joke. The guy had set the clock and asked Keith with a straight and suddenly unhinged face, ‘You ready to die?’ Keith kept his cool. Then, he palled around with the gang for a year or two. One thing was for sure: the two stories about a masked gangster were chilling to the bone. They say her beauty kills. We are in some deep shit now. Never did I think she was real. Keith stood in a trance.

She had found out one of her long-time dealers was shaving money off the top. Something unheard of, like seven to ten thousand per week. How does a woman run an enterprise so big that so much could go unnoticed for months? Anyway, that was not the point. In the center of the worker’s living room, the man was blindfolded, gagged, and tied to a chair. Then, she forced his wife to join him. They removed the blindfold from the man.

Now, face to face, across from the man, sat his loved one squirming in her chair. All the screaming was like music to her ears. The worker spoke of medical bills and wanting to send his kids to great colleges. She said nothing. As the story goes, Keith had always thought it was just a tale, as he had never heard about the executions on the news nor found anything about them on the internet. Leaving the man crying in the last few minutes of his life, she struck a match and calmly lit four candles, one in every corner of the living room, and then left. Keith shuddered, remembering the story.

Suddenly, Keith felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Fuck! About time. It was a blocked number. Keeping his eyes fixed on the lady and her four bodyguards, he took a risk, dragged his phone out, and put it to his ear.

Mark, don’t come to the alley. We’ve been doubled-crossed. Do you hear me, Man? Stay far away, Keith spoke in a low voice, barely moving his lips. With the phone against his ear, he eagerly awaited a response.

Hey, are you still there? The sound of the voice that finally came from the other side of the phone startled Keith. His eyes grew wide, right along with his mouth.

It was the sound of a woman who called him out by his name and asked him, Are you ready to make some real money, Mr. Keith? You have nine seconds to answer.

Wait a minute …. Keith felt trapped.

You have two seconds. What is it going to be, Mr. Keith?

Yeah, sure. Who is this? And how did you get my number? Only a few selected people outside of Keith’s family knew of it. Keith felt out of sync. He glanced at the phone only to see a blocked number. This shit smells fishy as hell. What if I would’ve said no?

None of your questions are important right now, Mr. Keith. Just know you made the right choice. Her voice switched to soft and sexy. What is important is that we clear the air first, Mr. Keith. You are wondering where Mark is, right? She spoke in a deep, raspy voice.

Yeah, for starters, I was supposed to meet my man, Mark, here at 8:00 p.m. In fact, around the same time, you and your bodyguards showed up. Why would she be asking me about Mark? What the fuck did she do with him.