An Excerpt from JEALOUSY by Linda Brickhouse

CHAPTER ONE
The Betrayal…

Chaka realized the horrible mistake he made almost too late. Standing next to the luxury silver colored vehicle, he smiled at the two brothers approaching. Nothing about the way they walked or looked suggested malice as they greeted him. Intertwined in the brotherly embrace he felt the butt of a gun. He gave it no thought. In the streets, they were prepared for battle. Today was no different. As he turned to greet the next man, the hairs on the back of his forearm stood on end. Immediately he disregarded the feeling believing the two men before him were loyal and trusted. They were more than friends they were family. Over the years, the trio shared meals, money and life lessons. He would never have suspected they were going to betray him.

A confused look stretched across Chaka’s face as he felt the barrel of the gun in his stomach. Immediately a cold sweat appeared as he realized this wasn’t a joke. Reality kicked in as he reached for his own weapon but remembered it was underneath the driver’s seat. Panic took control as he struggled to pull his hand away. Afraid to look down, he stared in the perpetrators eyes, hoping for an answer.

“How could they do this to me?” He whispered.

The sound of the shot made him shake. Next, he felt the fire spread and radiate to the soles of his feet. Tears slid, as he realized that they were there to kill him. The ground seemed to rise and meet him as he laid flat out on the black tar. Chaka didn’t have a chance to think about the wrongs he done. He was in too much pain. In his peripheral, he saw Quinton on the corner. For a split second, Chaka believed he would live. The moment ended just as quickly. Quinton stood there, immobile without acknowledging that he understood what had just happened.

He attempted to catch his breath so he could speak, but nothing worked. His brain was screaming but nothing came out of his mouth. In a pointless effort, he tried to stop the blood by putting his hand on the large whole in his body. Instead of stopping, a warm gush of blood flowed around his fingers. The last sound he heard was gunshots in the distance as he took his last breath.

Quinton finally processed the events that unfolded. The fog lifted as he unsuccessfully tried to retaliate. His instincts kicked in too late, as he aimed the nine-millimeter semi-automatic glock and fired. The taller of the men zigged and zagged on the dead end street until he was able to hide in the cut out of the church. Chaka’s killer was stuck in the middle of the street, as the first shot barely missed him. Quickly, the man got his bearings and returned fire without aiming. Neither shot hit its target. The 6’2” black man standing in the middle of the street didn’t give thought to his safety as he stormed towards his fleeting target. Firing one shot after the next he cursed silently. Out of bullets, he reached for another clip and realized he was empty. Broken, he watched as the two men climbed the low wall and disappeared into the park.

The whites of his eyes were blood shot red. He stood there unsure of his next move. The sounds of the sirens broke his confusion. He jumped into his truck and sped away.

Leaving Chaka on the ground left him feeling guilty and enraged.