Zero Degrees Part 1

Zero Degrees Part 1 - By Leo Sullivan



Author’s Note

First and foremost I would like to thank the Lord Almighty for giving me the gift of writing. Thank you to my parents, family members and friends who have been there for me through it all. I love you. To all of the loyal readers who have supported my work since the release of Forbidden Fruit, I dedicate this one to you.

I started writing “Zero Degrees” years ago, but for some reason I never finished. It just wasn’t going in the direction hat I wanted, so I put it down for later. Recently I signed with Leo Sullivan’s publishing company (Sullivan Productions LLC) and we discussed doing a collaboration. After digging the old manuscript out, I blew the dust off and asked him if he’d help me bring Zeaira Rowe to life. He obliged and we present to you our first collaboration “Zero Degrees”. Thank you Leo Sullivan, you’re such an artist when it comes to words.

Readers, I hope you enjoy and feel the passion that we poured onto each page.

I do not condone underage sex, drug use or violent behavior. However, the circumstances in this book are real and true to life. Just because we don’t talk about certain social issues do not mean they don’t exist. Some of the subjects touched in this book are taboo, because the characters are minors. As a society we have to acknowledge that these things are happening to be equipped to educate and lead our youth in the right direction. Please pay attention to this cautionary tale.



Nika Michelle





PART ONE





Chapter 1

1993

I watched as the blood oozed from his head. I was supposed to feel something, like remorse maybe, but I didn’t. As his eyes stared blankly at me all that flashed through my mind was the abuse that he’d afflicted upon me and my mother over the years. Shit, it actually felt good to see him lying there dead. It was finally over. As I sat down on the sofa, I placed the gun on the coffee table and picked up the house phone to dial 911. My mom was due home from work in less than twenty minutes. I didn’t want her to see police and paramedics when she pulled up, but what was done was done. I’d murdered Goody and I knew the consequences of my actions.

“911, what is your emergency?” The female dispatcher asked.

“I just killed my mom’s boyfriend,” I stated calmly.

“Ma’am, did you just say that you…”

“Yes, I just shot and killed my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Okay, was this an act of self-defense?”

“In a way, yes, shit, the sorry muf*cka’s been beatin’ on my mom and tryin’ to rape me for years. I got tired of that shit, so while he was under the sink fixing a pipe I shot him.”

“What’s your address ma’am?”

“1215 Shaw Rd. in University Estates.”

“Okay. We’re sending someone there right now.”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically.

“Ma’am, please stay on the line until…”

Cutting her off I said, “You don’t have to worry. I won’t run. I know what I’m facing and I accepted that before I did it. I really don’t give a f*ck. He won’t hurt me or my mom anymore and that’s all that matters.”

“I understand,” the operator said.

“Do you really? Have you ever watched a huge man beat on a helpless, defenseless woman for nothing? Huh?” I asked angrily. Not meaning to take my aggression out on her didn’t stop me from doing it.

“Uh, no, but…”

“Well, you don’t understand.”

“Look ma’am…”

“Stop callin’ me that. I’m fourteen years old. I’m hardly a f*ckin’ ma’am.”

“Fourteen? I’m sorry. You sound much older,” she said.

“Be me for five minutes and you’ll see why,” I told her.

I hung up the phone without giving her any more information and waited patiently for the cops to arrive. Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Walking slowly to the door like a zombie, I knew that it was the police. When I opened the door there were two detectives standing there with their badges visible.

“I’m Officer Greyson and this is Officer Stephens. We received a call from this residence. Is there someone here who’s been shot?” Officer Greyson looked to be in his mid-forties and was heavy set with broad shoulders. A fringe of graying hair ringed his head and his skin was the color of a brown paper bag. He had sharp features and deep penetrating brown eyes that held mine. His partner Stephens was white and looked a lot younger, like he was straight out of the police academy. He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. His green eyes darted around the room as if he expected someone to jump out at him. The entire time he kept his hand on his gun holster.

“Yeah, I killed my mom’s boyfriend. His body’s in the kitchen under the sink, leaking like that busted pipe. I got tired of watching him feed my mother lies, alcohol and drugs. He would beat her constantly and he couldn’t keep his hands off me.”

Officer Greyson and his partner exchanged puzzled expressions of disbelief. Then Officer Stephens took off for the kitchen in a hurry.

The older, black cop stared at me with sympathetic eyes as he stepped further inside the house. I guess he expected for me to cry or show some compassion, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. How could I show an emotion that I never felt for Goody; an emotion that he’d never felt for me? It actually felt good to kill him. F*ck crying. What did that shit solve anyway? Besides, I’d cried for too long. From that moment on it was all about action.

“How old are you young lady and what is your full name?” Officer Greyson asked. Again I thought I detected some sympathy in his voice; something no man had ever shown me, except my dad. At that moment I thought about my father. I missed him dearly as I gazed at the silver bracelet on my arm. Inside a heart shaped pendent was a picture of him in his uniform with a big smile decorating his handsome face. I looked up at the cop and finally answered.

“I’m fourteen and my name’s Zeaira Rowe. No middle name.”

He looked at me like he was stunned and mumbled something under his breath as he shook his head solemnly. I didn’t really look much older than that. It was just my demeanor that made people think I was an adult at times. Standing at 5’2, puberty had already started to set in. My body was starting to blossom in ways that made men take notice. I weighed an already shapely 125 lbs., but my baby face should’ve told the truth. Everybody I knew told me that I had an old soul in a young body. Well at fourteen, I felt old, but I didn’t look it. My skin was a creamy tone of caramel, with a few freckles that splashed across my nose. My light brown eyes hid behind long, curly lashes that women often wished for. My hair was long, dark brown and naturally curly. I wore it stylishly combed over my left shoulder, or I would let it cascade down my back. My mom would sometimes straighten it once a week with a pressing comb. All the boys at school thought I was fine, but I wasn’t into them. The girls didn’t really like me and I didn’t care because the feeling was mutual. My only friend was a dude named Buff.

The younger cop walked back into the room after inspecting Goody’s dead body. His face had paled when he said, “The victim is dead and she shot him several times, including in the groin area. The floor is cluttered with spent nine millimeter shells.”

“Damn,” Officer Greyson grunted and furrowed his brow with a deep crease and asked, “Where’s your mother?” He did a visual sweep of the room. I could sense his cop’s mind churning. He reached into his pocket, took out some latex-gloves, slid them on and picked up the gun I had sat on the table.

“Probably on her way here from work. She works at the BP on Cliffdale.”

That is when I noticed more cops enter the apartment, bringing with them the chaos of police madness. A Forensics Team walked in followed by the paramedics. Suddenly an elderly man who was ghostly white entered the house. On his suit coat read, “Corners Office”.

Officer Greyson looked at his partner and nodded toward the elderly man. “That’s the medical examiner. Fill him in as best you can while I talk with the girl.”

Stephens nodded and walked off.

That was a waste of time and money since I’d already told them I did it. They didn’t need to collect any evidence. My confession was all they needed. Officer Greyson cleared his throat as the other officers went about their business securing the crime scene.

“So, tell us exactly what happened here Zeaira. Since you’re a minor I won’t put this in the report. I can’t use anything unless a parent or guardian is present,” he said in a caring voice as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. Unexpectedly, I felt a bunch of emotions overwhelm me as something panged deep inside me. I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to block it out. I wanted to chase away the demons and what had led me down that dark and dirty path to death’s door. My mind flashed back to that dreary night.

I was in bed tossing and turning, having the same

dream. Daddy was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, singing merrily off key to one of Alicia Key’s songs. It was hilarious, because he couldn’t sing a lick. Momma and I would be cracking up in giddy laughter. It was his ritual to cook for us every Sunday morning. As I dreamed, I felt the bed move. The covers slid away from my body and a cold draft sent a chill through me. The bed squeaked in complaint as I felt cold, cruel hands roam the midriff of my body and my breasts. My panties were shoved to the side and that’s when my dream turned into a nightmare.

The foul smell of whiskey and cigarettes invaded my nostrils. I opened my eyes in a flash to find Goody in bed my bed. His large hand clamped over my mouth as he climbed on top of me. He was only wearing his boxer shorts and his, big bare chest was crushing me as he pressed me into the mattress. I could feel his large, pulsating dick against my thigh. He placed a finger inside of me roughly. I was a virgin and he was attempting to violate me in the worst way. I thrashed and struggled to no avail. He pulled my panties down as I continued to resist.

In a husky voice he demanded, “Lil’ bitch you know you want this dick. I see how you be watching me.” His words slurred drunkenly. “Now stop fighting me. It won’t hurt that much once I get the head in.”

I was suffocating and I couldn’t breathe because his weight was over bearing. My eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. I was terrified.

“Okay, okay,” I muttered meekly against his hand that was clasped over my mouth. He snickered maliciously and took his hand away.

“Shh… just let me get it in,” he said acting like a fiend as he groped and tried to enter me. My eyes were finally blessed with a sliver of light as a crescent moon faintly shined through the window. I was able to see the miniature crystal lamp on the vanity next to my bed.

I reached for it, but my arm was too short. The whole time, I could feel him prodding and poking as he grunted, trying to get his nasty, old shriveled up thang inside me.

“Bitch, open your legs wider!” He placed a hand on my neck and began to choke me.

“Ugg…okay.” I squirmed underneath him as I tried to breath. My eyes were blurry from tears as I scooted up. I spread my legs wider, but I reached for the lamp at the same time. I was able to grip it and it fit perfectly in my small hand. Just as he was about to enter me, I slammed the lamp against the side of his face with all my might. Glass shattered with a loud bang as most the pieces fell on top of me. He keeled over howling in agony. I dashed out of the room and ran into my mother’s bed room. She was asleep, drunk and completely naked with the covers gathered at her feet. I quickly threw on some clothes and ran out of the house.

For some reason I didn’t want to tell the cop the full details of what my mother’s boyfriend had done to me. I just looked at him with a blank, emotionless stare and told him what I wanted him to know. “Like I told you before, Harold Good, also known as Goody was not a very nice man. My mom started going with him when I was eleven, almost twelve. He was always an a*shole who got what he had coming. My mom moved in with him really fast and I hated him the first time I laid eyes on the snake. He beat her every single day. It never failed. When they’d get drunk, or high he’d beat her for hours and then I’d hear them make up. Sometimes after she’d fall asleep, he’d come in my room and try to get in bed with me. A few days ago was the last time the bastard tried to rape me. He almost succeeded. I had to kill him Officer Greyson. I had no choice. Either I killed him or he’d rape me or kill my mother.”

“What exactly happened today?” Officer Stephens quizzed me with creases in his forehead. He looked like he couldn’t fathom the thought of me being a murderer.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I already told you that I shot his sorry ass. The motherf*cka had that shit coming. I was tired of seeing my mom go through that shit with him. I was tired of going through it. I just see it as freeing the world of one more punk ass nigga.”

Officer Greyson visibly cringed. “You seem really cold to be so young. I also think you should watch your language young lady.”

“I’ve been through a lot and I’ve seen a lot Officer. I had to grow up really fast to keep up with the things going on around me.”

He nodded. “So, at the time that you shot him he wasn’t actually trying to rape you.”

“No, he was just walking around here talking shit as usual. He was tired of my mom fussing about him fixing the pipe under the kitchen sink. Before he fixed it he came in here going off on me about not giving him what he wanted the other night. He kept saying that he was going to get it eventually. I told him to leave me alone, but he got up in my face and said that before I turned sixteen he was going to f*ck the shit out of me. He told me that right now, at my age I am ripe and ready for the picking. After he said that I waited for him to start fixing the pipe. I had enough of his threats and I couldn’t resist it as I watched him lying underneath the kitchen sink with his legs open and his big ass head right there, waiting to be filled with bullets. It was the perfect opportunity, so I went upstairs and got the gun. I came back down and he was still there. I shot him in the balls first and then I emptied the clip in the bastard’s head.” I simply shrugged my shoulders like my actions were completely normal for a girl my age. Well, I was no ordinary teenaged girl.

Officer Stephens flinched noticeably when he asked. “Where did you get the gun from?” I could tell that it was something about me that piqued his interest. It was like maybe in his job experience he had never come across a young girl as heartless as me.

“It was his gun.” Actually it was a gun that Buff had given me, but I couldn’t snitch on my boy. F*ck Goody. He couldn’t get a gun charge if he was already dead. What the pigs didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

At that moment my mom walked in the house. I could see the panic in her eyes as she looked around at the police searching the house. That’s when it dawned on me that there was money and drugs hidden somewhere. She had been a mystery to me since we’d moved in with Goody. He had drugs and I guess she saw him as a good protector because of his reputation in the streets. In her eyes those attributes made him a good catch.

One morning I woke up early and saw a suitcase full of money on her bed. She closed it when I walked in and tried to play it off.

“Thank God you’re okay chica,” she said grabbing me for a hug. Her eyes continued to look around at the cops.

“I’m fine mama,” I said as she kissed the top of my head.

“What’s going on?” She asked no one in particular. “Why are there so many police cars in my yard? Where’s Goody?” When she asked about him she looked at me.

“Ma’am,” Officer Greyson cleared his throat. “There’s no other way to say this. You may want to sit down.”

“F*ck that. What the f*ck is going on and why are you all searching my house!?” She yelled frantically.

“Calm down ma’am,” Officer Stephens said putting his hand on my mother’s shoulder.

She moved away from him and he dropped his hand before he continued. “Your daughter shot your boyfriend. He’s dead.”

She looked at me. “Ze, what the hell did you do?”

I could tell that she was sober because her eyes were hardly ever that clear.

“I killed him momma! I’m sorry, but I had to.”

“You did what!?” She screeched. Tears filled her eyes and started to fall down her light brown cheeks. “Ze, baby, please tell me you didn’t. Please.” It was like she was pleading for that bastard’s life and I couldn’t stand it.

“I can’t tell you that!” I yelled defiantly. I couldn’t believe that she was wasting tears on that no good ass nigga. “Ma, I can’t believe you! He beat your ass all the time! I told you that he tried to rape me! Damn right I killed that sorry muthaf*cka! He deserved it and you’ll appreciate it one day!”

She slapped me. “Watch your mouth. Do you understand what you’ve done?” In panic, her eyes wandered around the house at all the cops.

I clutched my cheek with a stunned look on my face.

“Okay ma’am. There’s no need for that,” Officer Greyson said attempting to restrain her.

My mother jerked her arm away from him. “She’s my child!” She focused her attention back to me. “You can’t just be shooting people Ze! What’s wrong with you? Are you crazy?” Then she turned to Officer Greyson. “Why are y’all searching my damn house?”

“Ma’am it is police procedure in a…”

“Procedure my ass!” Her eyes were wide as she fumbled inside her purse. She lit a cigarette and took a long, deep pull. She blew the smoke out of her nose as she nervously watched a cop look under the brown, leather sofa. That seemed to agitate her more and I watched as she tapped her foot.

It was then that I realized that if they found the dope and money in the house my mamma would be going to prison for a long time. I suddenly felt guilt ridden. Not for Goody’s murder, but for my mom’s fate.

“What were you thinking about Zeaira Rowe? You’re in big trouble? Do you realize that?” She narrowed her eyes at me as a visual warning that we were both in deep trouble. She took another long puff from her cancer stick.

I watched her hand tremble as an officer looked inside the closet and removed several suitcases. Her eyebrows rose as a shine of perspiration began to gleam on her forehead.

I responded mockingly, “Trouble?” I laughed. “F*ck trouble. I won’t be in any more trouble now than I would’ve been in if that perverted ass bastard was still living. You’re my mother. You were supposed to protect me! Instead I decided to protect us because I love you. Goody never did. Daddy didn’t hit you! I wasn’t gonna just sit back and let Goody keep hurting you and I damn sure wasn’t gonna let that nigga rape me either!”

“Oh God Zeaira,” my mom murmured sadly as she ran her fingers through her hair.

The cop that searched the closet opened up one of the suitcases and began to ruffle through it. He opened another one and threw the clothes on the floor in a heap. I looked over my shoulder to see a cop about to open the brown Louis Vuitton suitcase that I was certain momma stashed her drugs in.

“What the f*ck are you doin’? Stay outta my shit!” My mom yelled with her eyes ablaze which could have passed for fury, but I knew that it really was fear. I had to do something and fast.

I looked up at Officer Greyson and said in a small voice, “You have me and the gun. Do y’all have to destroy my momma’s home?” I saw his Adams Apple bob up and down as he looked at me and then my mom sympathetically. By that time she was chewing on her fingernails while looking at the cop struggle to get the lock open on the suitcase. Officer Greyson must have had a daughter or a wife at home because he gave me a subtle nod and hollered at the officer that was just about to open the suitcase.

“Bernard, that’s enough! You and the rest of the unit go back to the station.” He then turned to my mom and said, “Mrs. Rowe, we have to take Zeaira down to the station. You can meet us there. We can’t get her statement without you present. If you will confirm what your daughter has said as the truth it can be used in her defense. She may even be able to stay in your custody until her court date. I can’t promise you anything, because this looks like over kill rather than self-defense. Still, she’s a young lady who may have snapped after experiencing a great deal of trauma. Things could still work in her favor.”

My mother nodded. Her eyes had become misty again. She was probably thinking about all the money and dope that she had stashed in the suitcase. I knew that she was going to drink and snort herself into oblivion later that night. She sniffed that shit up her nose like a vacuum cleaner. I could only pray that she would not kill herself with a lethal combination of alcohol and coke. Goody sold coke and bought it by the kilo. I didn’t know where she got the habit from, but I knew that in had to be linked to Goody’s lifestyle

Officer Greyson glanced at me as he spoke. “You ready?” He asked as if I had a choice.

I nodded and they escorted me to the car. I didn’t even bother looking back at my mother. She couldn’t see it yet, because her only concern other than me was the dope and money, but I’d saved her life. It didn’t matter if it meant that I had to give up my own for a while. I would’ve done it again if I had to. On the way to the police station I still felt no remorse.

“Good riddance,” I said out loud.

“What was that?” Officer Stephens asked as he looked back at me.

“Oh nothing,” I said smiling as I stared out of the window. I’d actually enjoyed killing Goody. I felt a high as I filled his body with hot steel and watched him take his last breath.