Heart Of A Goon

Zoya Caselli

I hated that I had to move just because everybody was scared of some little serial killer. Menace told me I either moved, or he was gonna get someone to plant roaches in my condo. He always had to take his shit to the extreme, which pissed me off at times.

I thought that with him being a husband and new father, he would change. If anything, he was even more of a nut who got on my nerves. I did notice he called me more, even if it was just to ask dumb-ass questions that could have been a text message.

It was his way of trying, and I had to meet him where he was at. We were both stubborn and did things to get on the other person's nerves. Hopefully, we'd get to a place where we could actually have those hard conversations without both of us feeling slighted.

I stomped down the steps to grab the box of shit Sigel left at my old place. I didn't want to see his sneaky ass. How could you be an undercover cop and want to set my brother up? What was their obsession with knowing Menace Caselli?

Honestly, if they knew better, they would leave his ass alone. No matter how fragile our relationship was, I was going to ride for and protect my brother. I didn't know what information he had, because I hardly ever spoke about my family.

It was something I kept close to my heart, and not everyone got the privilege of knowing about my personal life—not even a nigga who'd eaten my ass. Sigel never made me feel comfortable enough to reveal how deep my pain went with my family, or how I felt about certain things. So it was best for me to keep quiet.

I searched the basement for the box, picked it up, and carried it back up the steps. The sound of my phone ringing on the level above caused me to trip and drop the box.

"Fuck," I muttered in frustration as I walked back down the steps to pick up everything that had fallen out of the box. There were gym clothes, some of his daughter's clothes from when she spent the night, and books.

Sigel was a book man, and he loved reading. That was part of the reason I kind of fell for him. He was more than a street guy, but then he started showing his sassy-ass ways. Shoving the stuff that fell out of the box back into it irritated me.

You ever drop something and feel like your whole day is ruined? I had Pilates with Kora in a few minutes, and I didn't even want to go now. The small box that slid across the floor was lodged between the trunk I'd had since college.

Grabbing the box, I heard it jingle.

"Stop being nosy, Zoya… you two are done." I spoke to myself, because anything I found wouldn't matter anymore. "Fuck that… niggas be sneaky."

I opened the small leather box to look through it, and started to close it when two things sent a chill down my spine.

There was a picture of Kora leaving her job, and her face was circled with a red marker. That tightened my chest, but the dainty chain with Berkeley on it made my hands tremble. I put the box on top of the trunk and clutched my chest when I saw a subway map.

The only area that was marked was Red Hook, Brooklyn.

Sigel was the Red Hook serial killer.

Pig: Yo, swinging by in a few to come pick that up.

Alexa read the text message out loud. I held onto the trunk, trying to catch my breath.