𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋, d. swing

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐈

December 25th, 1995
Oakland, Californa
Malik

After that shit Devyn pulled, the house falls silent, and the tension is thick. "Is no one going after her?" Alexa asks, looking at us like we crazy.

"Why would we go after her? That bitch is a liar!" Kim snaps, taking the words right out of my mouth.

"You know what," Alexa says, grabbing her stuff, "I'm not even about to go there with you. Stephen let's go." Alexa walks up to the door and there's a hard knock before she opens it. Alexa opens the door to reveal a cop standing there.

"Is this the residence of Malik Johnson?" the cop asks. Alexa looks back at me, and I quickly rush to the door.

"I'm Malik Johnson. What's the problem, officer?"

"Mr. Johnson, you're a suspect in the murder of George Richfield, the former owner of The Vine. I'm here to bring you in for questioning," the cop says, his hand resting on his gun. He looks past me and sees Stephen standing behind me. "You must be Stephen Carter. I need to bring you in as well," he adds.

"Baby, what is he talking about?" Alexa asks Stephen.

I glance at Kimberly, who looks shocked. Ignoring her, I feel her judgment. I knew that nightclub shit would catch up to us, but I didn't expect it this soon.

"Kim, go home to 'Nessa. I'll call you later," I say, keeping my eyes on the cop. She kisses my cheek before leaving.

"Make sure you call me," she whispers. She walks past the cop and gets in her car.

Stephen and I know we can't fight or refuse the cop. That would only make things worse. So, without arguing, we get in the car. We don't talk during the ride. Stephen and I exchange worried glances but stay silent.

When we arrive at the police station, they put us in separate rooms. I placed with a white man who got too much damn greasy in his head. The lights got it glowing, looking like a greasy ass monkey.

We stare at each other for a minute. He's trying to read me, but I give him an unfazed look.

"Malik, right? Do you know George Richfield?" he asks.

I shrug. "I saw him on the news when he died. I don't know what this has to do with Stephen and me."

"Where were you on October 23rd?" he asks. I glance at the cup and pint of water next to him before looking back up.

"That was a long time ago," I say. "How am I supposed to remember?" I know that had to be the day Stephen and I convinced the guy to sell the club.

"It was the last day Mr. Richfield was seen alive. Interestingly, you and your friend were with him at The Vine outside of club hours. The next day, David Hawkins becomes the club owner, and Mr. Richfield is reported missing after not returning home. Doesn't that seem suspicious to you?"

The cop stands over me, his hot breath hitting my neck. I turn to face him and say, "Who is David Hawkins?" Playing dumb might be my only way out. We haven't heard from David since George's body was found, and I'm starting to think we'll never see him again. That means I'll actually have to get a normal job.

The cop laughs in my face, clearly not buying my act. "Just admit it, you know something happened to George. Why are you protecting him?"

I rise from my chair, maintaining my composure. "I won't be answering any more questions from you. If you have any questions, speak to my lawyer."

He meets my gaze squarely and says, 'Then I guess you're free to go..."

The door swings open, revealing a police officer escorting me out of the room. As I step into the station's lobby, I gather my belongings and notice Stephen standing nearby, almost as if he's been expecting me. When our eyes meet, he breaks into a smile. Hurrying over, he asks, "What happened?"

"I told them to speak to my lawyer."

"Them pigs tried to throw some shit at me too. I just plead the fifth," Stephen says, shrugging his arms. Before I can say anything else, the pager in my pocket goes off. I look at the numbers, not recognizing them. Now who the hell could this be? It better not be Devyn, she would have some damn nerves paging me after that shit. I don't even want to see her ass. She could fall off the face of the Earth and I wouldn't even care.

"That's Devyn?" Stephen asks.

"I hope not," I say, looking around for a payphone. I find one near the station and walk up to it, searching for change in my pockets. Stephen pulls out a couple of quarters from his pockets and hands it to me. I take them and put them in the payphone then dialing the mysterious numbers.

The phone rings for a minute, but the phone gets picked up. "Hello?" I say, expecting Devyn's voice.

"Tell me everything you said to them," David's voice speaks on the phone.