She winced faintly in the darkness as a throbbing sensation signaled that she was experiencing another chronic headache.
“Gimme the gun,” Tone ordered. “Ma, you about to kill me up in here. Lemme put that shit away.”
Tone rose from the bed in nothing but his boxer drawers and flipped on the light. He took the gun and placed it in a shoebox in the closet, for safekeeping.
“I got a little paranoid when you touched me,” she explained. The possibility of Black returning was never far from her thoughts, while getting as much money as possible was the main thing on his mind.
“I see,” he replied, feeling that she didn’t have to worry about repercussions from Black, at least not with him there.
Tone’s plan of gathering up as much money as possible before they left Baltimore, before Black made a move against them, was now in jeopardy. Netta’s paranoia was complicating matters.
“Tone, we gotta get up outta here. I’m not goin’ to feel safe until we do,” she admitted.
Tone had to push all thoughts of Black aside and try to place himself in her shoes. How would he feel if a certified killer wanted him dead. He realized who was he to tell Netta about her safety? Who was he to tell her how to feel? If anything happened to her, he would have to live with that guilty feeling, especially after she had expressed her apprehensions.
“I hear you,” Tone stated, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“We need to leave Baltimore a.s.a.p.” Netta suggested. “Get all your money off the streets or either leave the work wit’ your cousin Mann and let him Western Union you the money.”
Tone wasn’t too sure about that. After all, he had built this thing up from scratch on his own. He wasn’t too sure about handing over the keys to his empire to anyone.
“I’ll be ready in a few days,” Tone admitted. “I just need to take care of some things.”
Netta didn’t like what she was hearing. The risk factor of staying too long in Baltimore was unacceptable. She wished that he would realize that they were wasting precious time and they needed to make their escape a top priority. She felt his response was inappropriate, considering the circumstances. She blamed her ill feelings on the high stress of the situation. Still, she tried to understand his position. Tone couldn’t just leave, pick up and drop everything. He was running a drug business and other people depended on him for their livelihood. It was silly to think that he could.
“You gotta few days to wrap this shit up,” she explained. “Cause I’m leavin’ with you or without you. But I’d rather it be with you.”
Tone would keep Netta’s sense of urgency in mind, like he didn’t have enough to worry about right now.
“Okay, say no more, I’m on it,” Tone promised, unsure exactly how he was going to make it happen.
“Good,” Netta replied as she snuggled up underneath him.
At least now he wouldn’t have a valid excuse for not being ready. Tone said he would be ready and Netta planned on making him keep his word. Or else.
Though she had Tone’s word that they were moving, she recognized his heart really wasn’t in it. Still, everyday until they moved, Netta complained about it to Tone. She was beginning to fear that he wasn’t taking this situation seriously. While on the other hand, Tone was more than somewhat annoyed by her constant reminders.
The days leading up to their exodus took on an uneasy rhythm for Netta. She busied herself running errands, going to her storage and packing clothes. She was making all the necessary arraignments with a moving company to have her household items moved to Atlanta, once they found a suitable place to live.
“We gotta get outta here,” she would say.
Since the attack Netta had lived in fear of what could happen. Her mind was being controlled by what might happen again.
Her belief of getting out of Baltimore alive began to wane over the next few days. Netta felt if she ran fast enough and went far enough, that she would escape Black’s wrath. He would never catch up to her.
Netta hoped everything worked out for Tone on his end, because her only other option would be to leave him behind.
Tone arrived at Mann’s crib out in Carroll County. His reason for seeing him was he needed to pick up all the proceeds that had been made while he was away and to get an account of how much product they had left. The elephant in the room was Tone had yet to tell his cousin of his imminent departure. He knew he had to choose those words carefully.
“…..this is a little of over forty-five thousand,” Mann said, handing over a duffel back filled with cash. “As far as the work go, we still good, but we gone need to re-up in a few days.”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Tone announced.
There was intensity in his words that really made Mann pay attention.
Tone continued, “Yo, after this shit done, I’m out!”
Mann looked at him, puzzled, as if he couldn’t comprehend what he had just heard.
“Where you goin’? To the city?” Mann wondered. “Yo, how long you stayin’?”
“Nah, I’m done. After this batch is done I’m leavin’ Baltimore. I’m headed to Atlanta, me and Netta.”
Mann couldn’t understand why Tone wanted to leave. They had a good thing going in Baltimore. Together they had started laying the foundation for a major drug organization, brick by brick. So for him to just up and leave was inexplicable. He suspected Tone’s new girlfriend had something to do with this.
“When did you come up wit’ this? And why is you just now tellin’ me?” his cousin stated, determined to make sense of it all. “So this ain’t got nuttin’ to do wit’ that shootout we had the other night or ya girl, huh?”
This was something he’d never talked about with
