Cenise slid out the booth and got to her feet. “We can discuss all that later; right now I gotta go.”

“At least let me give you a ride. My cousin will be back with my truck in a few minutes.” Black followed her.

“Nah, I’m good, I’ll take a cab.”

As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Black grabbed Cenise by the arm and spun her around. “What’s up with you, b? Why you acting like I can’t know where you live now and shit?”

Black’s behavior was disturbing to Cenise. A sudden sense of danger came over her; she tried to ignore it but couldn’t. Cenise yanked her arm away from him. Scrutinizing him with her eyes, she asked, “Why you so pressed to know where I live?” Cenise didn’t wait for him to answer and walked to the curb to flag a cab. Immediately, one pulled alongside of her. Cenise opened the door, but before getting in she turned to Black, “We don’t need to do this again. You don’t owe me anything. I’m straight.” She got in and shut the door.

As the car pulled away, Black took out his cell and made a call.

“Wonder who he’s calling,” Arnessa said, still watching from across the street. “You think they were planning to do something to her?”

“Maybe, but whatever they got planned is about to be ruined.” Kisa pressed the PTT button on her phone, “Mish?”

“Yes, mama,” Mish replied, sitting on the all-black Kawasaki Z1000 a few cars behind Arnessa and Kisa.

“You see the dude twelve o’clock in the yellow leather.”

“I see him.”

“Get ’em.”

Mish stuck the phone in the pocket of her black leather Vanson jacket. She shot up Lenox and across 145th Street, right past Black, who was on the phone. Her little frame on the magnificent bike with the chrome double piping intrigued him. Damn, I wonder what she look like under that helmet, Black thought. He was about to find out as Mish made a U-turn at the end of the block and slowly headed toward him.

Mish stopped in front of Black. His anticipation turned to shock then to fear when she raised her nine. Mish looked directly at him then rapidly squeezed off three shots, hitting him once square in the center of his forehead and twice in the chest.

Bystanders scattered in every direction and took cover while Black lay on the ground, his eyes wide open. Blood poured profusely from his head, mouth, and chest. His bright yellow jacket was completely covered red with blood. Satisfied that he was dead, Mish made a left at the light, escaping across the 145th Street Bridge.