Episode 13 "Season Finale "Never as Smart as you Think"

I’d been trying my best to do right by James; at least when he was around. I was still struggling with my “addiction” as many people tried to call it. But I was home more and spent more time with James. He just seemed like he wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t know what was going on with him.

I was on my way home when I tried to call James but he didn’t answer. I was hoping he was still up. I wanted to spend a little time with him. The staff in the house should have been gone so we would have the house to ourselves but when I pulled up to the house, it was pitch black. Something wasn’t right. I pushed the garage door opener but nothing happened. I tried several times then parked my car in the front of the house and unlocked the door with my key. The house was still dark. The clock on the kitchen microwave was not glowing and I didn’t hear the ticking of the clock on the wall in the foyer. What was going on? I walked forward into the living and cut on the light. I could have fainted standing right there; everything in my house gone; completely empty. Every picture was gone, every piece of furniture was gone. I screamed out for James but the house just echoed. I ran upstairs to my bedroom and found my old suitcase with all my old clothes I had in it before I met and moved in with James. There was a note sitting on top of the suitcase.

“Michelle, if you are reading this note it means that you have realized I have left you. I knew from the beginning that you were a gold digger and cared about nothing but my money. What I didn’t know was that you were a gold digging hoe that sleeps with more men than I can count on my fingers. Yeah I know about all the guys you’ve been secretly seeing behind my back. I wondered why my wife wouldn’t have sex with me or why she spent so much time in the streets than with me. I’m smarter than you think I am princess and I’m glad I thought twice before I married you. By the way, don’t think about calling a lawyer or the police. Remember, you signed a pre-nup before we got married so you leave with exactly what you came with and it’s sitting under this note. Have a nice life.”

As I read the note, the tears were pouring. I couldn’t believe that James was leaving me and had knew about everything I was doing. I paced around the room where the bed used to be, where the couch used to be, where all my fine jewelry used to be. He took everything. I had nothing. My dumb ass signed a pre-nup thinking if I didn’t he would think I was all about money and he wouldn’t marry me.
“Fuck!” I screamed at no one. I had to call my girl Kami. She would let me come stay with her until I got things in order. I quickly grabbed my cell phone out of my purse and called her.

“Hello.” There was noise in the background as she answered. A woman on the loudspeaker was talking but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“Hey girl, um, I need a huge favor. Wait. Where are you?”
“At the airport.”
“Oh are you leaving or something?”
“Yup, headed out of town.” Kami answered.
“Well I have your spare key. I was wondering if I could go over to your house and stay a few days. I got a lot of drama going on.” I tried to laugh but it didn’t help soothe my broken heart. “James is divorcing me. Apparently he found out about the guys I was sleeping with and he took everything. I went home and the house was empty! All I have are the things I had before I met him.” I cried so heavily to my friend.
“Well you can go to my house but I won’t be coming back there.”
“What? Why? What’s going on with you?”
“Michelle, you thought I was so stupid. Thought you had me fooled huh? Well you’re the dumb one because I know about Keith. I know you’ve been sleeping with him and the only reason you needed my help was because he was blackmailing you. I get it now. I see the whole picture. I’m glad James is leaving you. You’re nothing but a gold digger and you don’t deserve a good man like James. You reap what you sow. Pay backs a bitch ain’t it.”
Before I knew it, Kami had hung up in my face and at that moment, every person I’d crossed had double crossed me.

Carlos was expressionless. No highs, no lows...only a straight stare to the wall. He'd been staring in that direction for the last half hour. The distinctive theme song to "Law & Order: SVU" was playing in the background...Carlos not paying any attention to the crime drama. He had his own drama: a little less than $5000 was left in his bank account after more than $750,000 was taken from it...supposedly by "Johnnie Sutton", the third bank robber who he knew was dead. Carlos unconsciously shook his head. That Flex dude didn't know what hit him. Just like a straight jab to the back of the head, Keith put him out for the count, just like he did Carlos...twice now.

The sounds of a chase, then gunfire was coming from the tv behind him as he continued staring at the wall. Not that it was the wall that he was staring at, but what was on it. Carlos ignored the geisha girl on the top half off the calendar. He was more intent on the days of the month. In particular this very day: June 13th...what was to be the final day of the Brother Jenkins down in the ATL. Suspicions of his bros doing anything like stealing his money from a bank went out the door. This was Keith's M.O. Plus, he was the only one who knew where his account was being held, since Keith was the one who recommended the bank to Carlos. "A good gesture" Keith had told him, for doing Carlos wrong back in the day. Carlos finally broke a smile, then chuckled under his breath. Ice-T's character as Tutuola was having a disagreement with Munch, telling him that his theory was all wrong, and that he needed to think outside the box. Carlos heard it while staring at the number 13 on the calendar, and laughed even harder, as he finally finished cleaning his .45...silencer and all.

Back at the safe house...
There was movement. The slightest twitch of a finger at first, then the whole hand slowly coming awake...grasping at the dirt beneath it. A soft moan. The body catching up with the hand...each movement followed by a louder moan. After what seemed hours, Keith was slowly coming around. Blood and dirt caked his arms and face. His head throbbing where a gash was still bleeding. After 15 minutes, he finally realized what happened.

Keith got up gingerly, dizziness trying to take control. He ignored it. More important matters were at hand...like the whereabouts of his briefcases, and the contents of what was inside. He spun around, as his head spun in the other direction, causing him to lose his balance. He fell, yelled in pain, but got back up and continued to search...one million dollars should be easy to find. Nothing on the dirt road. He ran clumsily to the safe house...nothing. Just the way he left it: empty of any of his funds. All of his money was gone. Keith fell to his knees and cried out loud, not believing what was happening to him. No, not Keith...not the Great Deceiver of so many people who he's schemed over the years.

Then he thought of it; ever since Carlos came back into the fold, nothing has been going Keith's way. Only losses...at Carlos's expense. Now it was all coming together. Carlos finally got even. His day finally came to shine. Keith ran back to the dirt road...no car, but a bloody duffel bag at his feet. He needed to get home, clean up, and prepare for battle...wherever Carlos was at, Keith was going to find him. With this thought, he took off down the dirt road towards the main road...grabbing the bloodied duffel bag in the process. Once he got there, he noticed the back end of his Lexus sticking out from a ditch. Keys were still in it, bringing a sigh of relief to Keith, lessening the pain just a little bit.

At Keith's house in Powder Springs...
The taxi dropped off Carlos down the hill from Keith's place. He walked up to it, and around the back, towards the pool. The .45 with the silencer stuck out like a sore thumb from his pants, but he didn't care. He was going to get back what was his one way or the other. Walking around the patio, looking for a way in, Carlos found it...by kicking through the glass patio door. A quick search through the house found it empty. A dead end. Carlos cussed under his breath. For all he's been through, now was not the time to sulk. He took his time, and began to search the drawers, closets...ram-shacking everything he touched...looking for a clue to where Keith and his money could have gone to. Then he heard the front door open. Keith. Carlos walked towards the front...not hiding...not caring whether Keith saw him coming. The .45 was already in his hand.

Keith was breathing heavily, struggling with his broken nose, his swollen eyes, and the throbbing wound on his head. He saw the mess laid out all around. His expensive furniture, his beautiful artworks...his picture of Kami, all of it in ruins before his eyes. He didn't have time to lament about them, as he saw a huge shadow quickly approaching him. Carlos smiled as he realized that Keith had spotted him. With determination, Carlos kicked away the broken furniture that was in his way from getting closer to Keith. At the same time, Keith ran into the kitchen, forgetting pain, and went to the island counter. Carlos was right behind him. A speeding "whiz" of a bullet that Carlos shot through the silencer passed by Keith's ear, grazing it enough to sting. Keith yelled out then turned around holding a gun of his own. To Carlos's surprise, Keith got off a quick shot...knocking the gun from Carlos's hand. In fact, a forefinger followed the gun to the floor. Carlos stared at his hand, blood pouring out the missing finger socket. He didn't feel any pain when he boldly walked up to Keith. Before another shot was sent off, Carlos tackled Keith through the kitchen, out through the broken patio door. They both hit the ground, tumbling over the broken glass. The gun was knocked any from them in the direction of the pool. Keith held his own against a hulking Carlos, and managed to grab a shard of glass. He put it to his throat, while grabbing Carlos's injured hand. Carlos finally felt the pain, and yelled out in pain.

"So you couldn't just walk away with the money, huh? You had to come back here to finish the job...huh? ANSWER ME! Where's my fucking money?!!" Keith squeezed his hand, spurting blood all around. Carlos yelled again, but then started to chuckle.
"You stupid son of a bitch...you're the one who could have been long gone with MY money. Just like you had to bring Johnnie Sutton back from the dead. You couldn't just let him be another one of your victims'" said Carlos through the pain now flowing throughout his body.

"What the fuck are you talking about? He is dead, and yes I gave him his death sentence. He was about to rat me out, so fuck him...a bullet between the eyes." Keith was getting agitated now.

"Well guess what? I don't have your money, but I know you got mine. You fucked up this time, 'Randall'. You should have stayed away." Carlos managed to use his four-fingered hand to push away Keith, getting his throat slashed in the process.
Like a madman bleeding profusely, Carlos was able to grab the broken glass, and used it on Keith, stabbing him in his left arm. Keith got up in total pain, the shard of glass still in his arm, and ran for the gun. Carlos followed. They both ended up in the pool, quickly turning the water blood-red. Water splash, gasps of air, screams of agony as Carlos and Keith tussled in the pool. Like a cue from a conductor's waving wand that comes to a stop, so did the music. The sound of the gunshot echoed throughout the Upper scale neighborhood, ending the splashing and the screams, but not the blood flow. The water got a deeper shade of red as both Keith and Carlos went under. A few minutes later an arm emerged from the bloody water, grabbing hold to the edge of the pool for dear life.

Days later...
Flex Willingham was in shock. When his lawyer told him that he couldn't do much with this particular federal case, Flex screamed at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?! I didn't do this! What kind of lawyer are you? Help me here, damn it!" The bailiff took Flex by the arms, and took him out the courtroom, still yelling at his lawyer, who sat at the defense table playing with his pen. The judge calmed the room down with a couple of pounds with his gavel.

"ORDER! Now, this bail hearing will come to a close. Mr. Wales, your client will not be granted bail. Trial will begin in four months time...with your client adding to his already possible max sentence of 15 years by his actions today. Word of advice, counselor: Contain Willingham's attitude, because if you don't this won't even go to trial...this court is dismissed," said the judge with one last hard pound of the gavel. Flex could be heard in the hallway still calling for injustice.

In a few months, Dominique and Darryl are going back to the drawing board to put their series Crimes of Passion in the ATL and The Dirty Sexy Chronicles into a book. In the meantime, hit them up on twitter all day today and let them know what you thought of the series! Ask plenty of questions!!!
www.twitter.com/write_of_fusion and www.twitter.com/almondeyesdiva