Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 1

The funeral was pathetic. Fingers wasn’t a well-liked guy, and only a handful of people showed up to pay their respects. But Tonya wa

s absolutely devastated over his death. Her son was her bread and butter. Tonya wailed over his casket. He was her only son, and she couldn’t believe he was dead.

His funeral was hard to pay for. When Fingers was murdered, Tonya had to beg and scrape every dime together. She went around asking for help from whomever she could, including God and a few friends. God only offered to give Tonya $500, claiming that he was broke.

With Fingers gone, she had to look out for herself, and money didn’t grow on trees. But Tonya was particularly disgusted with God. She knew about all the things they’d done together. Her son told her about everything, including the rape of Chanel and every murder they’d committed. For Fingers, it was like confession and his mother was his priest. The violent and turbulent life he lived was sometimes a lot for him to hold in, and when he talked to his mother, it was like therapy. They were really close.

Tonya felt God had disrespected her son. Only $500 toward his best friend’s funeral? She was also convinced that Fingers was murdered because of their last job. Tonya felt that it was no coincidence that no one was left alive in their other robberies. Why rape the girl and leave her alive? Tonya wondered. Now her son was conveniently murdered, and she didn’t believe that it was over a dice game. Nah, it wasn’t going to end like this. She wanted justice for her son.

Dressed in all black and in tears, Tonya looked around the funeral home. What hurt her was the attendance. It was a mostly empty room. God and Charlie stopped by to pay their respects and to give their condolences, but something about them rubbed her the wrong way. They were dressed like they were about to go to a barbecue, and God seemed hurt about his friend’s death, but he didn’t seem too upset to Tonya. He was supposed to be crushed and devastated, like she was—and he was supposed to stay longer to give her some comfort.

She wanted them to stay, and she wanted God to pay for her son’s funeral. He didn’t. Five hundred fuckin’ dollars wasn’t shit.

As the couple left, Tonya glared at them until they were out of her sight. She used to treat God like he was one of her own, but now she saw his true colors. He only cared about himself and that bitch.

Tonya seethed in her seat. Something had to be done.

***

As God and Charlie left the funeral home, they were unexpectedly met by two detectives who flashed their badges. They were there to pick up God.

“You need to come with us,” said the detective.

“Y’all niggas serious? This is my friend’s fuckin’ funeral!” God chided.

“Do you really want to make a scene then?” said his partner.

God mean-mugged the detectives and Charlie asked, “What did he do?”

They ignored her. She wasn’t their concern. They focused on taking God into their custody. Charlie could only watch as they escorted her man away and shoved him into the back of an unmarked police car. He would be going to trial soon on the gun charge he’d picked up almost a year back. But the cops wanted to harass him. They hadn’t forgotten about the death of their fellow officer on that fateful New Year’s Day. His murder was still unsolved and it left a bad taste in the NYPD’s mouth. God and Fingers were their primary suspects, but there wasn’t enough evidence to charge them.

Charlie fumed as she watched them haul God away. The thought crossed her mind again that it was like a curse—an omen of worse to come since they robbed her sister and shot Mateo. God was back in jail, Fingers was dead, and Mateo was still alive.

The only thing she could do was continue to keep her mouth shut and, yet again, see what the charges were against God and try to get him out of jail.

Fortunately for God, there were no new charges against him. He was only brought to the precinct for questioning. They kept him in a room for nearly twenty-four hours and interrogated him. But God was a rock, and since they had nothing on him, he was free to go.

The moment God walked out of the precinct, his cell phone rang. He answered, and it was Tonya.

“Yo listen, God, I’m gonna need you to drop off some more money so I can get ahead of my bills, you feel me?”

God was taken aback by the blatant request. “What—?” He stopped short of calling her a bitch. And in a stern voice, he replied, “Yo Tonya, I ain’t your man or your son. If you need money, then I suggest you get a fuckin’ job. I don’t owe you shit. My nigga just got murdered and I gotta deal wit’ that.”

“How you gotta deal wit’ my son getting murdered? How the fuck you sound, God? How the fuck you come up wit’ that shit? He was my son and you couldn’t stick around for his funeral.”

“Tonya, I said I can’t fuckin’ help you.”

“So, it’s like that?”

“Yeah! It’s like that!” God wasn’t about to be forced to pay anyone anything.

“Okay, so maybe Chanel can help me out, then. You think Charlie’s sister can help wit’ that, huh? Or maybe the police?”

God’s stomach dropped. She was threatening him with information she could have gotten only from her son. The nigga done snitched to his moms when what they did was only supposed to remain between the three of them.

His bitter tone suddenly changed. “Nah, I feel you. You right, Tonya. A’ight, lemme see what I can do.”

“I bet you will, muthafucka. Shit done changed real quickly, I see. Don’t fuckin’ disappoint me, God, cuz I treated you like a son too,” she said.