The Circle: Fallon's Story (THE CIRCLE SERIES) Read online

  “Porter! Lockout for rec,” Morrison called out instinctively. Anxious to get shit underway, Fallon got back to her feet. Her legs were shaky and loose like strands of cooked spaghetti noodles. She couldn’t stop thinking about Rain and Autumn and even what the escape had meant for Dayvid. Fallon surmised that, like her, the warden of the jail probably had her brother under the damn jail in punitive segregation to prevent any escape attempts.

  Fallon was let into the fenced in recreation yard and as usual she took a seat with her knees drawn up to her chest. She usually started the talking but today, she was really uneasy and at a loss for words. She didn’t know if she could even trust Morrison anymore. After all, he was still a law enforcement officer.

  “I’m going to do it. The…the…thing you asked. For the price you said. But I need to get the cash first…like right away,” Morrison mumbled into the wind with his face turned away from the eyeshot of the cameras. Fallon lifted her head up from her knees and was about to say something.

  “Cover your lips,” Morrison snapped nervously. “You gotta remember to cover your mouth when you speak or they’ll change your guard and put me somewhere else,” he warned.

  Fallon caught herself too. She lowered her head again and spoke to the fold of her knees.

  “How?” Fallon asked seriously. “How will you do it? How can I be sure that if I tell you where the money is you won’t take it and fuck me over?”

  “All you have is my word, just like all I have is your word that you have that much money stashed out there,” Morrison answered.

  “True,” Fallon acquiesced. “So tell me the plan.”

  “Tomorrow you will get a visit from your new attorney, only that person is my sister. She will discuss everything with you and I’ll help. Around here at BDC everybody have a price so getting you out ain’t gonna be a problem. I mean officers up in here getting pregnant by inmates and shit. This is the most corrupt fucking jail in the whole US of fucking A. The warden probably has a price too, but I’m sure it ain’t as low as mine,” Morrison said with feeling. He was disgusted by some of the crimes he had seen officers committing on behalf of or with inmates, but Fallon guessed that he figured if you can’t beat them join them.

  Fallon felt like crying, smiling, jumping and cheering but she’d learned from her younger days doing heists that nothing can be celebrated until it’s all said and done. Nanny and Smitty always told them; don’t even breathe easy until you have the fucking money in your hands and you don’t hear sirens in the distance. A sure way to jinx a heist or any lick was to start celebrating before you were in the clear.

  “Even though you are getting paid nicely for your help, you still didn’t have to do it so thank you Morrison. I really mean that. When I see my brother I’ll definitely let him know. Porters never forget those who help us,” Fallon said as tears rolled down her face and dripped on her thighs. It was true, whether someone crossed them or helped them; they never forgot.

  ***

  Fallon was surprised at how small she was able to fold her voluptuous body into the rolling prison laundry cart she was currently lying at the bottom of. She was also disgusted that she had to hide under loads and loads of disgusting dirty jail sheets, towels and face rags. That shit stunk to high heaven. Fallon had gagged at least a thousand times at the stench coming from the filthy laundry. The laundry man told her that she was not, absolutely not, to come up out of the huge rolling laundry cart until he gave her the signal. Even if Fallon thought it was quiet and wanted to see what was going on, she couldn’t dare move. Whatever it took to get out of that jail, Fallon was going to do it. It seemed to be taking forever though. Fallon had cramps in her back and legs but she had no choice but to agree with Morrison and his people when this idea was hatched. Morrison had already collected half of the seventy thousand dollars from one of Fallon’s stash spots—a locker at the Sport and Health near the Harbor in downtown Baltimore. Fallon owed him the other half, but she had to get to it herself first.

  Fallon felt a big thump and she could tell that the truck had stopped moving. Anticipation was creeping in and Fallon wanted so badly to poke her head out.

  “I’m out of the jail. I know it. I’m fucking out of that place,” Fallon whispered, her stomach fluttering with excitement. She couldn’t wait until she met up with Rain and Autumn so she they could exchange their daring escape stories.

  Fallon heard the large metal doors of the laundry truck opening; then she felt the cart moving. “Alrighty sweetheart, you made it out. You can come on up and breathe some of this here fresh air now,” the raspy voiced laundry man whispered hitting the side of the cart. Fallon painfully unfolded her body and stood up. She felt like she didn’t have any legs because her circulation had long since stop flowing, which made her legs numb. The man helped her out of the cart. Leery and a bit shaken, Fallon looked around suspiciously. She wasn’t going to sleep on nobody and trust a stranger like that. When she was all the way out of the cart and her legs were back in working condition Fallon felt slightly better.

  “Where is this?” Fallon asked the old man.

  “You’re far away from BDC, but they gon’ be looking for you after a while. I think you better get going on to wherever you plan to go. If they catch you, I would hope you don’t say who got you out here,” the laundry man said. Fallon gave him a strange look.

  “Oh I already got mine. Yes ma’am, a few thousand dollars is much needed for a dirty clothes handler like me,” he said. Fallon exhaled. She looked down at herself and the oversized, dingy, raggedy clothes Morrison’s cousin had provided for her to wear as a disguise. The oversized sweatpants and huge droopy t-shirt did a great job of hiding Fallon’s curvy body features. Fallon had already messed up her hair and she had smudged black make-up on her face for good measure. Fallon had thrown in the contacts from Morrison’s cousin too. She took a look at herself in the truck’s side mirror. Fallon smiled. “Homeless they wanted. Homeless they got.” Fallon looked like a homeless fiend who was on every drug you could think of. She damn sure didn’t look like Fallon A. Porter, the well-kept, perfectly coiffed beauty the police will be looking for.

  “Take the back ways. Disguise or not, it’s risky and I ain’t trying to go down for nobody,” the laundry man instructed. Fallon nodded her head in agreement. With that, she was off and running. She didn’t even have time to breathe in the fresh, outside air. Fallon was on her way to the Mexican border or she would die trying to get there.

  Chapter 3

  On the Loose

  Fallon was on the loose and paranoid as hell as she navigated the Baltimore back alleys like a runaway. Every time she crossed over to the next alley, she would whip and duck her head around looking for police cars. Although she was dressed like a homeless crack head, Fallon didn’t rest easy that someone wouldn’t recognize her. She was a Porter after all and the entire city, good, bad or indifferent, knew the Porters.

  Finally, Fallon made it to the dilapidated row house on the corner of North Avenue and Longwood Street. With her heart galloping in her chest she lifted a shaky fist and banged the door three times. Fallon was moving on her legs like she had to piss, but it was just that her nerves were on a hairpin trigger. Looking around nervously, she waited a few seconds and banged the door again. That was the signal—three knocks, pause, and then one hard knock.

  The raggedy, plank wood door opened a crack, not even enough for Fallon to see inside. The man who answered it stuck half of his scowling face into the crease of the door.

  “Who are you?” he asked suspiciously. That proper english gave him away every time.

  “Drew…it’s me, Fallon. Dayvid’s little sister,” Fallon huffed, her words coming out like puffs of air.

  “Who?” Drew barked. “No way. The Porters are all locked up. Besides they are too careful to be seen anywhere in Baltimore right now. You sure don’t look like any Porter I know. I’m not in the mood for any robbery attempts tonight. Now, get the fuck…” Drew started ready to
slam the door in Fallon’s face. He was right. The streets knew them to be locked up and Fallon was always a perfectly dressed head turner. Fallon couldn’t blame him for being suspicious, especially in the neighborhood they were in.

  “Wait Drew, please. I’m telling you the truth it’s me. Dead ass. Just let me inside and I’ll prove it. My brother brought passports and shit from you last week. You made my name Ericka Blackwell on the one he got for me. See, if it wasn’t me how would I know that. I am Fallon Porter, Dayvid and Rain’s little sister…swear to God,” Fallon said frantically, sticking her foot in the door so Drew couldn’t slam it in her face.

  Drew’s face softened and he squint his eyes trying to glimpse anything that might be familiar about the apparent fiend standing in front of him. Finally her eyes hit him. Fallon had deep set, piercing slanted eyes; really unmistakable if you were familiar with them. The contacts she wore now changed them slightly but not so much that they were totally unrecognizable.

  “How’d you get out?” Drew asked, slowly pulling the door open wide enough for Fallon to slip inside. Once she was in, Fallon closed her eyes and rested her head and back on the door.

  “Thank you,” she huffed, pulling the hoody off of her head. “You have no idea what I had to do to get out here. This is definitely the shit books and movies are made of.”

  Drew’s eyes widened when he took a good look at her. Fallon’s cheeks went flush with embarrassment at her dirty, unkempt appearance. “I know. I know. I look a mess like them fiends out there in the streets, but I don’t have a choice right now. It’s a good thing that you couldn’t recognize me, that mean other people probably can’t either,” Fallon said exasperated. Drew looked at her apprehensively.

  “I don’t want any trouble at my door. I run a business here and I don’t want any trouble. What you need?” Drew said, his eyes showing straight fear.

  “Nobody is going to be looking for me here in a damn abandoned house that you turned into your lab, Drew,” Fallon said annoyed. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need you right now. I need a driver’s license, one or two credit cards, a throw away phone and a damn car if possible.”

  Drew’s eyes widened and his brows furrowed as he looked at Fallon like she had five heads. He picked up his bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and took it straight to the head. He was going to need a drink for this shit she was talking.

  “No disrespect Fallon, but you sound crazy. You know how long it takes for me to establish a full identity with all that…and a car…where the fuck,” Drew started. Fallon was not having it. She got up in his face and glared at him.

  “Don’t play with me Drew. I’m desperate and I’m still a fucking Porter. You got all of that shit for Dayvid one time within twenty-four hours. You graduated from NYU. You are a fucking genius hacker that could probably start a world war with that computer. If it’s money you’re worried about, I have it. I just have to get to it. So the faster you hook me up, the faster we make it happen. Which means the faster you get my escapee ass out of your hair. I ain’t got nothing but time,” Fallon retorted, plopping down on Drew’s busted up leather couch with her arms folded as a show of defiance. She wasn’t going anywhere until she got what she wanted. Besides, she couldn’t go anywhere without what she came there for anyway.

  Drew sucked his teeth and sighed. In his assessment, if Fallon was anything like her older brother and older sister, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. That would just leave him to have to deal with her longer.

  “I just had to do this same shit for your other sister and that was at gunpoint. What’s up with you Porters? This is an art form and not to be rushed,” Drew mumbled in frustration.

  Fallon sat up on the edge of his couch. “My other sister? Which one? Who was here? Where did she go? How long ago? Did she say anything about where she was heading?” Fallon shot question after question at Drew like bullets from a high-powered machine gun. Drew looked taken aback.

  “Whoa, whoa,” he replied putting his hands up. Fallon closed her eyes and tried to calm her flaring nostrils.

  “It was Rain. She came here all in a huff. I think it was the same day you all got picked up and she didn’t. When I told her I couldn’t do anything in that short amount of time, that crazy chick pulled a .45 on me and told me make it do what it do. It was the fastest I’ve ever come up with new identities since I’ve been in the business,” Drew said. Fallon twisted her lips as she hung on Drew’s every word.

  “Identities?” Fallon caught on to that one word.

  “Yeah, that crazy sister of yours wanted me to come up with two identities in that short time. Crazy right?” Drew said nonchalantly.

  The second one must’ve been for Autumn. Rain knew she was going to break Autumn out. She only asked for two identities, not three? Did she think about me? Was she going to leave me for dead? Fallon’s mind raced and her heart suddenly hurt. She had to shake off that feeling if she was going to get to her destination in one piece.

  It’s all good Fallon. You always were kind of like the black sheep of the family. You always did your own thing anyway. They hardly ever agreed with your choices in life. Maybe they felt you were a risk. Maybe they found out you were back in contact with Linx. Fallon spoke to herself silently. I better not find out Linx had anything to do with that fucking raid. All of the love I showed that nigga from day one. Fallon closed her eyes. In her mind’s eyes Fallon was seventeen again.

  ***

  Baltimore August 2005

  “Baby girl, I don’t want you to leave me. Stay here with me just like this. Butt ass naked laid up in my arms all day and night,” Linx said smoothly as he stroked Fallon’s hair. Their bodies were intertwined like a pretzel; Fallon’s head on Linx’s chest, his arm around her and her legs weaved between his. This was perfect, but temporary. Fallon shot another glance at the cable box on Linx’s television stand. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. This was always the hard part. She hated to leave, but she was there on borrowed time.

  “If I stay away too long, my brother will come looking for me. Neither one of us want that. You already know how Dayvid is Linx,” Fallon said regretfully. It was as honest as she could be. Lying and sneaking out from under her siblings had gotten to be stressful over the time Fallon had gotten serious with Linx. She had made up so many stories to get out that sometimes even she couldn’t keep them straight. Telling Rain and Dayvid about Linx wasn’t really an option. In their eyes, Fallon was still younger than them and what they said was the law. Dayvid had preached so many times to Fallon and Autumn about niggas in the game. “No niggas in the game or bum ass dudes. Only lames with straight jobs are allowed to date my sisters—doctors, lawyers or teachers.” Dayvid would say.

  “Here you go with this running home bullshit. I could care less about your brother. Let him come looking for you. What he gon’ do?” Linx replied.

  “I’m doing it for the both of us Linx. Trust me, my brother is crazy. He is way overprotective. After our Nanny died of lung cancer he is paranoid about anything happening to any of his sisters. I just can’t be gone overnight or he would go crazy trying to find me. It wouldn’t end up good for me or you,” Fallon explained in the softest voice she could find. It had became a touchy subject between her and Linx. As soon as he’d found out that she didn’t really have parents to answer to, Linx expected Fallon to be at his beck and call.

  Linx stopped stroking her head and untangled his body from hers. He sat up abruptly in the bed and pushed Fallon away. Linx moved his body to the edge of the bed and turned his back towards her. His jaw rocked as he lit the end of his stubbed out blunt. He was a grown ass man at twenty-nine years old and he didn’t like to be told what he could and could not have, especially by a seventeen-year old girl. This shit with her running in and out of his life was getting old, because Linx was feeling her so much. Linx took a long toke of the kush and tried his best to calm down. He sucked the smoke into his lungs hoping that it would go to his head faster than usual.


  “Yo baby girl, seems to me like you gon’ have to make a choice sooner rather than later. I’ve been patient long enough. I ain’t one to be waiting around on no female…ya dig. You know how many girls out there want to be laying in that spot in my bed where you at right now? Too many to count and I think I’m about to start identifying some of them personally,” Linx said cruelly. He was bluffing and he knew it. Fallon knew it too. She twisted her lips and turned on her side so that her body was facing him. She let the sheet fall away from her large, perky breasts just enough to tease Linx with a glimpse. She reached out and touched Linx’s back softly, running her long, acrylic covered inch long nails down his spine.

  “You don’t mean all of that, Linx. We can’t live without each other and you know it. I know it’s hard not to have me here twenty four seven, it’s hard for me too. I’m working on telling them about you, but it’s not easy. You are older than my older brother and sister and they’re not going to be happy about us. I’m still seventeen Linx. Plus, you know your profession. Dayvid is going to think it will bring heat and attention to us. He always tell me and Autumn that we deserve a doctor or lawyer…he is not going to accept what you do as acceptable for his baby sister,” Fallon explained using the softest baby voice she could muster. Linx sprang to his feet. He turned around to face her. His high yellow skin was splotchy with red flush marks from the blood rushing to his head. Fallon wasn’t even paying attention to his screw face; instead she licked her lips as she took in an eyeful of Linx’s twelve-inch love muscle. His shit was like an anaconda. Linx jutted an accusing finger towards Fallon.