The cost of vengeance [Roy Glenn] (fb2) читать онлайн

Roy Glenn
The cost of vengeance

Chapter one

Nina Thomas

The grand jury didn’t return a murder indictment against me. I was so relieved I cried. Now that that was behind me, I had something else on my mind-the women who robbed me. They didn’t follow me from Jimmy’s; they were there at my apartment waiting for me. They had to know that I would be at Jimmy’s, and where I lived. I looked at Teena and wondered how they knew that.

I went home with Shay and Teena. They had a surprise party waiting there for me. “Surprise!” Even though I wasn’t in the mood for a party, I acted like I was having a good time, but my mind was focused on how them women knew where I lived. Sometime during the party, I sat down and watched Teena. She was all over the place, like she always was, being the life of the party. After awhile, Shay came and sat with me. “Something bothering you?”

“Why you say that?”

“This is your party and you’re the only one that’s not having fun.”

“Just got a lot on my mind.”

“That why you been sweatin’ Teena all night?” Shay asked.

I didn’t answer.

Shay stood up. “Come on. We need to talk.”

Shay led me by the hand into the bedroom. We sat on the bed and I ran it all down to her. How no matter how much we talked about not doing business at Jimmy’s, Teena called me to do business at Jimmy’s. I told her about the two women who were watching me, and that it was those same two women that robbed me. “They didn’t follow me from Jimmy’s; they were waiting there for me, Shay. They had to know that I would be at Jimmy’s that night, and they had to know where I lived.”

“Wait here a minute,” Shay said and left the room. When she came back, Teena was with her. “Tell her what you just told me, Nina.”

I ran through it again.

“Hold up. You think I set you up?” Teena asked.

“We just talkin’, Teena,” Shay said.

“I ain’t talkin’ to you, Shay. Nina, you think I set you up?”

“Like Shay said, we just talkin’.”

“You do think I set you up. That hurts bitch. Long as we’ve known each other, as much shit as three of us have been through together, you think I would do some shit like that? That shit hurts,” Teena said, and I could see the hurt on her face.

“If you would stop being so hurt and think about it, you’d understand why we had to have this conversation,” Shay said.

“Why?”

“Think about that shit, Teena. Nina don’t go to Jimmy’s, that’s your spot,” Shay began. “You call her up there and there are two women watchin’ her. The same two women that are waiting at her apartment to rob her. How did they know where she lived? How did they know she would be at Jimmy’s that night?”

“Okay, okay; when you run it down like that I can see why Nina’s lookin’ crazy at me,” Teena said.

“In case you ain’t noticed, it ain’t just Nina lookin’ at you crazy,” Shay said.

“I get it, Shay, I get it. But believe me; I didn’t set you up, Nina. First of all, Shay, didn’t I call you first and you said you didn’t have it?”

“Shay?” I asked.

“True, she did call me.”

“Was I gonna rob Shay’s ass too.” I wanted to say maybe, but I didn’t. “How did I know you was goin’ back to your apartment? You was on some dick when I called you, and you said that you were in a hurry to get back to that dick.”

“Nina?” Shay asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” I had to laugh at myself ’cause I got a little wet just thinking about gettin’ some more of that dick. But for reasons that I understand, Victor didn’t want to see me anymore.

“And if I was gonna set you up to get robbed, why wouldn’t I set it up so you would have to go get the stash where the real weight is, instead of at your apartment, where I know for a fact that you got a key at best?”

Me and Shay looked at each other. “I’m sorry, Teena,” I said.

“You ain’t gotta be sorry, Nina. I understand why y’all had to come at me like that. Shit, if it was either of you bitches, I woulda pulled the same stunt.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry too,” Shay said. And we had a group hug.

“I love you two bitches. I would never do nothin’ to hurt you,” Teena said.

“I’m glad that’s settled,” Shay said.

“No, it’s not,” I said and Teena and Shay looked at me. “The one thing we agree on is that it was a setup, right?”

“Right,” they both agreed.

“The question is: how did they know where I live?”

“Who knows where you live?” Shay asked.

“Not many people know where I live. At least that was the case before this party,” I said and thought about moving.

“So who?” Teena asked.

“You two, Kenyatta, Leon, and Cedric knew, but he’s dead,” I said.

“I think we can eliminate him.”

I thought about that night and that’s when it hit me. “There is one more person that knows where I live.”

“Who’s that?” my girls both asked simultaneously.

“Victor.”

“Victor?” the both asked in unison, again.

“Victor.”

That night we decided to watch Victor. It felt like we were cops as we took turns sitting outside his house and following him wherever he went. I followed him to a house and waited for him to come out. When he came out, my two female bandits came out with him. When I told Teena and Shay about it, we argued about what we were gonna do about it. “We kill them,” I said quietly.

“We?” Shay asked.

“Yes, we, Shay. We gotta do this,” I said.

“What; now that you’ve killed somebody you’re a killer?” Shay asked.

“That’s not it, Shay. I don’t think I’m a killer, but we gotta do this. We can’t let this go without us doing anything about it. We can’t have people thinking that they can just rob us and we let it go.”

“What you say, Teena?” Shay asked.

Teena looked at both of us. “I agree with Nina. We gotta kill them. Three of us, three of them.”

We planned how we’d do it. Shay was shaky. “We’ll do it together,” I said.

“We’ll both be right there with you,” Teena promised.

That next night, I drove to the house I saw the women with Victor and waited. The three of us sat in the car and talked about everything, except what we were there to do. The only thing that was different was that we all had on bandanas and gloves. We had been there for a couple of hours when the front door opened. “There go one of them,” I said as she walked out of the house and locked the door.

“Which one is it?” Shay asked.

“She’s mine,” Teena said and got out of the car.

I grabbed my gun and got out of the car as well. Shay got out, too, but she didn’t bring her gun with her. Teena walked up on her so fast that we had to hurry to keep up with her. She got to her just as she made it to her car.

“Hey, bitch,” Teena said, and she turned and looked at Teena. “Time to die.” Teena raised her gun and pulled the trigger. She fired three shots and hit her with all three.

Now the plan was that Teena would kill one woman, Shay would kill the other, and Victor was mine. This way we were all in it together. But Shay left her gun in the car, so when Teena took care of hers, Shay froze. I ran to the door and waited with my gun raised. When the other woman came out to see what was going on, I put my gun to her head. I thought about just going ahead and shooting her, but I thought it was important to stick to the plan. I walked her at gunpoint to the car. Once she was inside, I said to Shay, “Find something to gag her with.” Shay took off the bandana she was wearing and shoved it in her mouth. Teena drove off. We took her to Kenyatta’s dope spot.

When we got to the spot, I called Kenyatta and told her to come to the car. “Here she comes,” I said, and Teena got out of the car and walked up on her before she got to the car. She told Kenyatta that we needed a vacate apartment. “What’s goin’ on?” I heard Kenyatta ask.

“Never mind all that. You got a spot or not.” Teena said.

Kenyatta led Teena toward the building and ten minutes later, Teena came back and we took her inside to a vacant apartment on the third floor. As soon as we got in there, we made her get down on her knees. Both Teena and I looked at Shay.

Shay stepped up to her and pointed her gun at the woman’s head. She closed her eyes and got ready to die. We all stood there watching Shay, as she lowered the gun.

“I can’t.”

“Gimme that,” Teena said and took the gun from Shay. Without another word Teena shot her point-blank in the head. She looked at Shay, handed her back the gun, and walked away.

Shay looked at me. “I’m sorry, Nina.”

“Come on,” I said and followed Teena out of the apartment. There was only one thing left to do. There was nothing said while Teena drove us to our next spot. When we pulled up outside, Teena put the car in park and her and Shay started to get out.

“Let’s go get that nigga,” Teena said.

“No. I gotta do this myself,” I said.

“What?” Teena asked.

“No, Nina. You shouldn’t go in there by yourself,” Shay said.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I have to,” I said and opened the car door. I got out of the car and started walking toward the house. Teena jumped out of the car and ran up to me.

“Why you doin’ this, bitch?”

“I need to do this alone, Teena,” I said and started walking toward the house again.

I rang the bell and there was no answer. I walked around the house looking for another way in. I found a window in the back of the house that was cracked open. I went in and made my way to the living room. I got a chair and pulled it in front of the door. I sat down and waited, knowing that when he turned on the lights, the first thing he would see was me.

I had been sitting there for over an hour before I heard the key hit the lock. I raised my weapon. Victor opened the door and turned on the light.

“Nina?” His eyes opened wide when he saw the gun. “What are you doing here?”

“Come in and close the door,” I said. I should have shot him on sight and been done with it. But I didn’t.

“What’s this about, Nina?” Victor asked.

“Don’t play stupid. You know what this is about.”

“’Cause I wouldn’t go out with you again,” Victor said and laughed a little.

“Very funny. Chose your next little joke carefully, ’cause it will be your last.”

“Can I sit down?”

“Go ahead,” I said, and Victor sat down on the couch. When he sat down, I stood up.

“So, you wanna tell me what this is about?”

“You set me up.”

“What?”

“You were the one that sent those women to rob me that night.”

“And I suppose that I set it up to get beat to death?”

“There was no way you could know that Cedric would be there, or that I would have to call you to untie me.”

“This is crazy, Nina. What makes you so sure that I did it?”

“I been following you.”

“Now you stalking me, Nina? This is ridiculous.”

“I followed you and you led me right to the two bitches that robbed me that night.”

The look on his face changed completely then. Up to that point, I guess he thought that he would be able to talk me out of killing him. Now, for the first time since he walked in the door, Victor looked scared. “So, let’s start again. Why you set me up?”

Victor looked around the room, and then he took a deep breath. “It wasn’t anything personal, Nina. That’s just our hustle. One of us gets the mark out of the house and the other two rob them. LeSean and Shantia scouted you out.”

“How’d they know I’d be at Jimmy’s that night?” I asked just to put my fears about Teena to rest once and for all.

“I called them right after you left and told them where you’d be, and where you lived. They were there waiting for you.”

“Why me?”

“Like I said, it was nothing personal, Nina. It’s just what we do,” Victor said. “Give me a couple of days and I swear we’ll get your money back.”

“There ain’t no more we,” I said and took a step closer to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Your girlfriends are dead now.”

“You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to do that. Look Nina, I got a couple of thousand in the bedroom. You can have that right now, and I swear I’ll get the rest of it to you. I just need a few days to get it together, but you ain’t gotta do this.”

Just then he jumped up from the couch and came at me. I shot him three times in the chest and he fell back on the couch. I stood over him, and when I turned to I leave, I was startled to see Teena coming out of the bedroom with her gun in her hand.

“You didn’t really think I was about to let you come in here alone, did you?” Teena asked.

“No I guess not,” I said and started for the door.

“By the way, the nigga didn’t have any money in the bedroom ’cause I checked.

Chapter Two

Rain Robinson

Nick dropped me off at my apartment, and I was about to do what I was told and get some rest when the phone rang. “You have a collect call from a correctional facility,” the recorded voice said. I knew that it had to be from my brother Miles, so I accepted the charges.

After Miles found out that my father’s right-hand man, Jeff Ritchie, arranged the murder of the mother of his child, he killed him. That bitch Wanda recommended that Miles plead not guilty of the murder due to temporary insanity, and wave his right to a jury trial. Mike Black arranged to have his case heard in front of a judge that was on his card. All of the witnesses testified that they saw Miles and Jeff Ritchie fighting, and then Miles shot him. But none of the witnesses could remember seeing Miles leave and come back with the gun. That was Nick’s doin’. The judge said that Miles’s mental condition at the time of the killing, rendered him unable to determine right from wrong, or that what he was doing was wrong. The judge ordered clinical treatment until Miles could be certified safe to be released back into the community. But the DA fixed it so Miles had to stay at Rikers Island for treatment.

“What’s up, Miles,” I asked.

“I need to see you, Rain,” Miles said.

“How you doin’, Miles?”

“I don’t have time for this, Rain. I need to see you.”

“Look, Miles, today ain’t really a good day for me. I’ll try to make it out there tomorrow.”

“No!” Miles shouted. “It can’t wait until tomorrow, Lorraine! I need you to come out here today.”

Anytime Miles calls me by my name, I know it’s something serious, ’cause he knows I hate being called Lorraine. “Okay, Miles. I’ll be out there today, but I got shot and I just got outta the hospital.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“What? What was you in the hospital for?”

“We’ll talk about that when I see you,” Miles said and hung up the phone.

The last thing I wanted to do was ride out to Rikers. I was tired and my chest hurt. I probably did too much last night. Rollin’ wit’ Nick and gettin’ some dick this morning didn’t help. I wanted to do what my man told me to, and get some rest, but Miles needed me and that means I’m goin’.

When Miles came out, the first thing I noticed was the bandage on his face. “What happened to you?”

“Two guys jumped me in the shower. One of them held me, while the other cut my face.”

My first thought was this was some jail-house pretty-boy shit. My brother was a pretty nigga, so I laughed a little. “What they do that for?”

When he pulled the bandage off and I saw that they’d cut an E in his face, I knew I was wrong. “They said the Easely family sends their regards, then he sliced me.” I knew this was my shit. This was because I killed Jay Easy. I sat there and looked at Miles. “What did you do?” Miles asked me.

“I can’t say right now, but I’m sorry this had to touch you.”

“I knew this was your doing, Rain.”

“I’ll take care of it; you can be sure of that,” I said and started to leave.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“If they came after me, they might go after Lakeda and the kids. When was the last time you checked on them?”

“It’s been a minute.”

“Why?”

“You know I can’t stand that bitch. Shit, she’s the reason you’re in here.” Lakeda found out that Miles had been cheatin’ on her, and that’s why Jeff Ritchie arranged to have the woman killed.

“No she isn’t. I’m in here because I killed Jeff Ritchie for having Zakiya Phillips killed.” I looked at Miles and wondered if I should I tell him how it really went down. I guess he knew I had something to say. “What, Rain?”

“There’s something you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“It wasn’t Jeff Ritchie.”

“What you talkin’ about, Rain?”

“I knew something wasn’t right about her story. Lakeda wouldn’t talk to Jeff Ritchie about you having an affair. Her and Jeff wasn’t cool like that. But she would talk to daddy.”

“What are you sayin’?”

“Lakeda went to see daddy that night after she’d caught you. You know as well as I do that Jeff Ritchie would never do anything like that. He wouldn’t send men to kill her; not unless daddy told him to.”

Miles dropped his head.

“I asked daddy about it that night at the hospital. He didn’t answer me then, but before he died, he told me that I was right, and to tell you that he was sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t change anything. Daddy was dead. You was in here. I just didn’t see the point in makin’ you relive all that and be mad at daddy,” I said and wished I had told him before now.

“You still could have told me, but I understand why you didn’t. But that don’t change what I’m talking about. You need to go and make sure the Lakeda and the kids are safe. You gotta do that for me, Rain. I know how you feel about Lakeda, but that is your niece and nephew, do it for them.”

“Okay, Miles, I got you,” I said. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of days. I got a lot going on right now. But I’ma take care of this for you.”

I left Rikers and went by the club to pick up another gun. When he left, Nick took mine. I really didn’t think that Jay Easy’s people would go after Lakeda and the kids, but I couldn’t afford to be wrong. Shit, I didn’t think they’d go after Miles over some shit I did, but they did.

I had a good idea who set that shit up. It had to be Jay Easy’s younger brother, Kevin. But what I didn’t understand was, why go after Miles? Why not bring that shit to me? I ain’t hard to find. Then I thought about that shit and smiled. I may not be hard to find, but the people I’m with carry a lot of weight. Last thing a mutha fucka wants do is run the risk of havin’ Mike Black’s whole crew gunnin’ for them. I had to laugh ’cause I knew that some of them would think me dyin’ was a good thing, and be glad that they didn’t have to do it. But Kevin wouldn’t know that, so goin’ after Miles probably seemed like a good move to Kevin. I would make sure that before he died he would regret that shit.

When I got to the club and went to my office, Rose was in there with Danielle doing paperwork. Rose had recently hired her to be the food and beverage manager. You ever meet somebody and you just don’t like them? That was Danielle. It was nothing she’d done or said to me, I just don’t like her. But Rose says that since Danielle started workin’ there that profits on food and liquor are up, so I guess I ain’t mad at her.

“Hey, Rain,” they both said.

“What’s up?” I said and went straight for the safe.

“Are you all right?” Rose asked.

“I’ll be all right. I just got something I need to handle,” I said and got two guns and some clips out of the safe. I closed the safe and started to leave. I stopped when I got to the door. “If Nick comes by here, you ain’t seen me.”

“I understand,” Rose said and Danielle smiled.

On my way to the car I wondered what that bitch was smilin’ about, and drove away thinkin’ that there was something about her that just ain’t right; I feel it. But I really didn’t have time to worry about that now.

On the way, I thought about what Jay Easy said to me before I shot him.

“Go ahead and do it. But even if you kill me the shit won’t stop. It will only get worse. You got more enemies than just me. Only one that can save you is me. Drop this nigga and make it all right, and we can get back to where we was,” Jay Easy pleaded with me for his life.

I looked at Jay Easy and shook my head. “You always was a stupid mutha fucka. I don’t want you. That nigga’s so far above your level that you couldn’t even understand it.” Then I laughed in his face. “That, and he’s fuckin’ the shit outta me.”

Jay Easy spit in my face. I picked up my gun and shot him in the face. Then I pulled the car over and pushed him out in the street, closed the door, and drove off.

You got more enemies than just me. Only one that can save you is me. At the time I thought he was just talkin’ until I found out that it was Blue who was robbin’ me. Now I wonder how long that enemy list was.

I got to Lakeda’s house and rang the bell. My nephew, Miles Jr., answered the door. “Aunt Rain,” he yelled and jumped in my arms like he always does. I kissed him on the cheek.

“How’s my little man doin’?”

“I’m fine. But I miss you,” Miles Jr. said and my heart melted.

“Who’s at the door, Miles?”

“It’s Aunt Rain, mommy,” he said and grabbed my hand and dragged me to his mother.

“Hello, Rain,” Lakeda said.

I could tell she wasn’t glad to see me. The bitch never is. You would think that since I support her ain’t-never-had-a-job ass, that she would show me some respect. At least she could show some appreciation for the fact that I pay all of her bills, and send somebody to give her worthless ass money every fuckin’ week, but I guess it don’t work that way for her.

I knelt down and looked at my cute little nephew. “Why don’t you go play. I need to talk to your mommy,” I said and hugged him. After he ran off, I sat down ’cause I knew the rude bitch wasn’t about to offer me a seat. “You heard what happened to Miles?” I asked, even though I knew she hadn’t. Lakeda hadn’t forgiven Miles for the affair and hadn’t spoken to him or been to see him, since the day he shot Jeff Ritchie. Millie takes the kids to see him in jail.

“No.”

“He got stabbed.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“He asked me to come by here and make sure that you and his children were safe.”

Lakeda stood up. “We’re fine, so you can go.”

“It ain’t that simple, Lakeda. The people that stabbed Miles might come after you and the kids. So what I need for you to do is pack up some stuff for you and the kids and come with me.”

Lakeda looked at me and sat down. “Miles got stabbed over something you did. That’s it, isn’t it? What did you do?”

“You don’t need to know all that. What you need to do is pack up your shit so I can take you someplace where y’all will be safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Rain,” Lakeda said, and I looked at this bitch like she was stupid. I started to pull my gun and say oh yes you are, but I took a deep breath.

“People might be on their way here right now to kill you and your kids. So for once in your life, you need to act like you got some sense and realize that I am all you got.”

Lakeda sat back in her chair and gave me a fuck-you-bitch look. Then she got up and started getting stuff together. Once I made sure that they were someplace safe, I went to shut this shit down before it went any further.

Chapter Three

Mike Black

Nick was talking to me, but I wasn’t listening. I knew where he was taking me and the only thing on my mind, was what I was about to do. It had been a long time, but I was having the dream again. I was dreaming about the night that I found Cassandra dead.

When it first happened, I used to have the dream all the time. It would always be different, but it would always end the same way. No matter what I did, Bart would always kill her and I would wake up in a cold sweat.

“Black, are you listening to me?” Nick asked.

I didn’t answer him. When he put the car in park, I got out, took out my gun, and walked toward the house.

“What’s wrong?” Nick shouted and got out of the car. “You want me to come with you?”

“No! Get out of here!” I shouted and unlocked the front door, turned off the alarm, and stepped inside.

“Cassandra,” I called out; but as usual, there was no answer. I went into the living room and the television was tuned to the local news on CBS, just like it was that night. That night, I called out for her again and she didn’t answer. The remote was on the couch, so I picked it up and turned off the TV. I remember thinking that night, where the hell is she? I dropped the remote on the couch and headed upstairs, thinking that it was funny that she would have gone out just that fast. Maybe she’s hidin’. I took my time looking into each of the upstairs rooms, but she was nowhere to be found. I knew then that somethin’ wasn’t right. I came back downstairs and opened the kitchen door, and I immediately fell to my knees.

There on the kitchen floor, I found her; lying there with her arms out in front of her and her face turned to the side. Both eyes were blackened, nearly purple; there were blotches of blood on her cheek. Her face was swollen so much that I couldn’t believe I was looking at my wife. There was so much blood, and there were bullet wounds in her back: one just below her left shoulder blade, another a little below it, and two near her lower back.

This time would be different.

I went upstairs and started down darkened the hallway. As I got closer, I could see that there was somebody standing by the bedroom door. “Ms. West? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. This is your dream,” she said and dropped that giggle that always makes me wanna strip her down and fuck her brains out. But that wasn’t what I was there for. Or maybe it was. Just the fact that she was there made the whole thing different.

“I don’t know either, but you better stay close to me.”

Ms. West smiled. “I plan to.”

I opened the door and stepped inside slowly. There he was, Kip Bartowski; the man who killed Cassandra. He was sitting on the bed with his gun on his lap. I looked around the room for Cassandra, but she wasn’t there. Bart stood up when he saw me. Then he smiled and looked at the gun in his hand. He put the gun on the bed and motioned for me to come toward him. I handed my gun to Ms. West. “You want me to shoot him for you, Mr. Black?”

“No. Just hold it for me,” I said and moved toward Bart. Ms. West sat on the bed, and in her usual ladylike manner, crossed her legs.

I hit Bart in the face with everything I had, left and right, left, and right again, but it didn’t faze him. Then he hit me so hard that I fell to the floor. “Sure you don’t want me to shoot him for you, Mr. Black?”

“No!” I shouted and got up. “I can take him!”

I rushed at Bart and he hit me again, and I went down again. This time he didn’t wait for me to get up. He dove on top of me and wrapped his hands around my throat. I tried to pry his hands away, but his grip was too strong. I jammed my thumbs in his eyes and pressed as hard as I could until he let go. I pushed him off of me and got to my feet.

Bart was still on his knees, so I grabbed his head and rammed my knee into it over and over again. I looked around for a weapon to use against him. There was a fireplace in the room where there never was one before, and a poker sitting in the rack. I grabbed the poker and wrapped it around Bart’s neck. I put my knee in his back and pulled as hard as I could. Bart struggled to get away, but he couldn’t. His body went limp and fell to the floor. And just to make sure he was dead, I jammed the poker in the back of his head.

“I knew you could take him, Mr. Black,” Ms. West said and got up from the bed. She walked toward me and handed me the gun, and we started out the room.

When I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, Diego Estaban was there and he started shooting at me. He had Cassandra kidnapped once, and I killed him for it. I pushed Ms. West back in the room. “Wait here.”

“Whatever you say, handsome,” she said and pushed those pouty lips of hers together. It made me want to forget about Diego and kiss her.

Diego was a punk that I never had any respect for, so I walked boldly down the hall as he continued to fire at me. When I got to him, I snatched the gun from his hand and backhanded him to the floor. I stepped on his neck and put one in his head. I heard Ms. West giggle that giggle. I turned to see her sashaying down the hall. The way her hips moved made me want her. I reminded myself that fuckin’ her wasn’t why I was there.

“That was too easy,” Ms. West said, gently touching my face.

“Diego always was a punk,” I said and went into the next room. In there was CeCe, tied to a chair. She didn’t belong there either. DEA agent, DeFrancisco, was holding a gun to her head. He was involved with Diego and had Cassandra killed, and tried to fame me for the murder. I killed him too.

“What are you doing with her?” CeCe shouted.

“I’m going to take him from you. That’s what I’m doing here,” Ms. West taunted.

I turned to Ms. West. “I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doing here.”

“That was so ten minutes ago.” Ms. West kissed me on the cheek. “You go ahead and save your woman. I’ll be around when you want me,” she said and left.

I turned back to DeFrancisco and CeCe. I raised my gun and shot DeFrancisco in the head, then went and untied CeCe. “Wait here,” I said and started out the room.

“No, you ain’t goin’ after her!” CeCe shouted.

“I’m goin’ to save Cassandra,” I said.

“Not her again. I will never be able to compete with her. Well I won’t be here when you get back,” I heard CeCe say as I left the room.

I went downstairs and headed for the kitchen, knowing that I should have gone there first and wondering what the significance of CeCe and Ms. West being there meant. CeCe I could understand; she has always felt like she couldn’t compete with Cassandra. But what about the lovely Jada West? Did I subconsciously want her to take me from CeCe?

I went into the kitchen and the only one in there was DEA agent, Pete Vinnelli. He orchestrated Cassandra’s murder. Monika and I killed him in Mexico; but not before I ruined his life. I raised my gun and shot him twice in the head.

I searched the house again and nobody was there. No dead bodies, no CeCe, no Ms. West, and definitely, no Cassandra. “Where is she!” I shouted.

Chapter Four

“Black,” Victor said.

“Huh?”

“You all right?” he asked and his eyes cut to the gun in my hand.

“Yeah, I’m all right. Just nodded off for a minute,” I said and looked at the gun in my hand and then over at him.

I liked Victor, I thought as I put away my gun. He’s a smart guy, pays attention to what I tell him and he learns quickly. There are even times when he reminds me of Freeze. But Victor and Freeze are two completely different people, so I try not to make comparisons, because there will never be another Freeze.

I remember when Freeze really started to work for me. It was after he rounded up all four of the guys who highjacked our load. The Kid, that’s what we used to call him, did it quick, and by himself. He earned everyone’s respect that night, and we all started to take him seriously. Before that, he was little more than an errand boy.

After that night, I started taking him with me when Andre sent me to collect for him. “What do you want me to do, Black?” Freeze asked that first time.

“Nothing, understand; you keep your mouth shut and your eyes open, and you don’t do shit unless I tell you. Understand?”

“Understood.”

“Good. Now let’s go,” I said and started to walk off. Then I stopped. “You armed?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me see.”

Freeze lifted up his shirt and showed me a.38 snub nose tucked in his waist.

“Guess we need to get you a gun,” I said and took him to Cynt’s office. Once she opened the safe, I looked at Freeze. “Pick one.”

Freeze stepped up and looked in the safe. Cynt kept a small arsenal in the safe in her office those days. Now, all of the spots we run have two: One in the office and the other, behind the bar. It has come in handy on more than one occasion.

Cynt leaned close to me. “Bet he chooses the.44 Magnum,” she whispered. But the Kid surprised us both when he came out with a Sig Sauer SP2022 9mm pistol with a 15- shot magazine. “I’m impressed,” Cynt whispered.

When we left Cynt’s, me and Freeze caught the train to 59^th Street, and then caught the D train to Tremont Avenue. From there we walked up Tremont to a building on Martin Luther King Boulevard. We were going to see a dealer named Mark Mitchell, who liked to get high on his own supply. When we got to the door, I started to go over the rules again, but Freeze hadn’t said a word since we’d left Cynt’s, so I didn’t think he would start now.

I banged on the door and waited. It wasn’t long before I heard, “Who is it?”

“It’s Black. Open the fuckin’ door before I start shooting through it.” I actually heard him say, “Shit,” before he opened the door.

“What’s up, Black?”

As soon as I was inside, I punched him in the face and he went down from the blow. I kicked him in the face while he was laying there. “That’s for making me come down here,” I said and kicked him again. “Help him up, Freeze.”

Freeze stepped up and helped Mark to his feet. I punched him in the stomach and when he doubled over; I went to the face with a knee lift. He went down again. Then I went into the living room and sat down. Freeze came and stood near where I was sitting, and we waited for Mark to get up and join us. I was glad that I didn’t have to tell Freeze not to help him up.

When Mark did finally join us, he ran down some long, drawn out story about why he didn’t have the money. But as usual, he promised that he would have it if I’d just give him some more time. I got up and smashed his face into the wall a couple of times before I left that day, and ended up killing Mark when I found him the next week.

As time went on, Freeze learned the craft. It got to the point that we worked together that we didn’t need words. Freeze knew exactly how and when I wanted him to deliver pain. And Freeze was brutal. I think its the thing that separates Victor most from Freeze. Victor is smart, efficient; he does what needs to be done to get results. Freeze enjoyed hurting a mutha fucka.

I remember a guy named Irving Anderson; a stock broker whose only vice was that he liked to bet baseball. After a run of bad luck, he owed me fifteen thousand dollars. We found him one night at a bar on Seventh Avenue. Me and Freeze got to the door, but instead of going inside, I went and leaned against a car. “Go on in and bring him out,” I said.

Freeze smile. “You ain’t goin’ in, Black?”

“I’ll be right here.”

Freeze went in, and five minutes later, the doors swung open and Irving Anderson landed at my feet. I looked at Freeze as he came out. “Mr. Anderson I presume?”

“That’s him,” Freeze said.

“He’s all yours.”

Freeze smiled again, but went straight to work on Mr. Anderson. I watched him while he worked. And I looked in his eyes and could tell that he was lovin’ every second of it. Hittin’ him with fists, forearms and elbows; kickin’ him, rammin’ his head into cars.

“Is there a problem out here?” some big mutha fucka that I assumed was the bouncer asked as a crowd formed to watch.

I showed him my gun. “Does it look like I’m havin’ a problem?”

“No problem,” he said wisely.

Freeze picked Mr. Anderson up from the ground and slammed his body against the car I was leaning on. Freeze reached in Mr. Anderson’s pocket and took out his keys. He threw them to me. I hit the alarm and the lights flashed in a sweet Lamborghini that was parked down the street. And it was black. “You’ll get this back when I get my fuckin’ money,” Freeze said and hit Mr. Anderson again. We left him laying on the car, and drove away in his car. Two days later, he called with my money. There will never be another Freeze.

I looked at Victor and asked him what time it was. “Eleven thirty.”

We were in Miami, parked in the airport parking lot, waiting for Bobby’s flight to arrive. The flight was delayed due to bad weather in the area, but things had cleared up and I hoped that meant Bobby would call soon.

We were in Miami to meet with Hector Villanueva. I had killed his nephew, Cruz, because of his involvement in a plot to kill me. Not wantin’ any bad blood between me and Hector, I setup a meeting.

Earlier that day, I went to a restaurant called Delicias de Espana. Hector has lunch there every day. They serve traditional Spanish Cuisine, and boast about their fresh fish and seafood that they receive directly from Spain twice a week. “The taste of the Cantabric Sea in Miami.”

Once she was miked for sound, I sent Monika in first. She had a special assignment. As soon as she was in place, Victor went in to arrange the meeting with Hector. I watched from the car as Victor approached Hector’s bodyguards. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Hector sent her away.

“Nianza De La Vega?” Monika asked, calling her by her maiden name. She was Hector’s wife and an old acquaintance of mine.

“Yes.”

“Mike Black sends his regards and wants to know if there is any reason that he shouldn’t meet with Hector?”

“Hector is glad Cruz is dead. Black saved him the trouble of having to do it himself,” I heard her say before she walked away.

Once Victor arranged for us to meet that next afternoon, he came back to the car. Monika waited a while before she got up. Just as she was about to walk out, I saw Nianza walk up to Monika. “Give this to Black.”

When Monika got in the car, she handed me an envelope. The letter said: meet me at the Epic Hotel on Biscayne Boulevard after you meet Hector. Room 1908. It was signed: Nina. I smiled. “Let’s go.”

Victor’s phone rang and he answered it. “What’s up, Bobby?” When he hung up, he said that Bobby’s plane was on the ground and he was on his way to baggage claim. So we left out and went to meet him.

That next afternoon, me and Bobby went to meet Hector at Delicias de Espana. After we dispensed with the pleasantries, Hector and I got to the point. “My nephew, Cruz, is dead, Black. Some say that you killed him and left his body to be eaten by rats.”

“Cruz was involved with two of my own people in a plot to kill me, Hector. I only did what was necessary,” I said.

Hector laughed. “Let’s be honest, Black. Cruz was a problem. That’s why I sent him to New York. If he had stayed here, either I would have killed him, or he would have killed me. I told him to stay away from you, but you know how these kids are today; my telling him that only proved to drive him to a confrontation with you.”

“Trying to prove that he was better than you,” I said.

“I would say that he thought that he was smarter; knew better than me,” Hector said.

“I meant no disrespect.”

“I took none, my friend.” Hector took a sip of his drink. “You and I have no problems, Black. But I appreciate that you came down here to show respect.”

I stood up and so did Bobby. “I know that you are a busy man and have important things to do, so I’ll leave you now. You have not only my respect, but my condolences for your families’ loss,” I said. We shook hands and I left.

Bobby drove me to Biscayne Boulevard. I went inside the Epic Hotel and knocked on the door at 1908. Nina opened the door wearing a tight blue dress and I stepped inside. “Hello, Nina. You look good.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Nina said and went and sat on the bed.

“What did you want to see me about?” I asked and sat on the bed next to her.

“Do you remember what I said I wanted to do the last time I saw you?” Nina asked.

“Vaguely.”

“I said what I’d really like to do is suck that big dick and then ride you until I felt it swell up and explode inside me,” she said and began to unzip my pants.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yes.”

Nina took my dick from my pants and clasped her fingers together around it, and stoked it. She moved her hands up and down slowly until it was hard. She licked her lips, and I felt my dick swelling in her hands. Nina lowered her head and took me into her mouth. She ran circles around my head with her tongue. Nina slid her lips up and down, deeper and deeper, slowly, until she had taken almost all of me in her mouth.

Once she had had her fill, Nina stood up and got undressed, then she undressed me. I laid back down and watched her gliding her hands across my skin. Nina straddled my body and lowered herself onto me. Then as promised, she rode me until I swelled up and exploded inside her.

When she was done with me, Nina said good-bye and left the hotel. I took a quick shower and went downstairs where Bobby was outside waiting for me in the car. When I got in the car, Bobby shook his head and started laughing. “What?”

“You a greedy man,” Bobby said.

I laughed too. “You’re right. I’m a greedy man.” It was the name of an old James Brown song that we picked up because it fit us. “Now, brother, don’t-” we both sang. “Leave-your homework undone.” We both laughed as he drove away.

“Tell ’em one more time,” Bobby said. “Now, brother, don’t-leave-your homework undone,” we both sang. But instead of thinking about what I had just done with Nina, my mind was on Jada West.

Chapter Five

Jada West

What to do about Mike Black?

Now that is a man. Every time I see him, every time he parts those sexy lips, every time he says Ms. West, he makes me want to forget about everything, and I become his personal sex slave. And believe me, sex is something I know about. Sex is how I make my living. After spending more time than I care to admit, lying on my back with my legs in the air, I realized that the real money was in being the one who arranged for other woman to lie on their backs with their legs in the air. To me, sex is just another way to make money. The day I left Sasha, my old madam, I handed her two thousand dollars. That day I decided to get on the money-making end of that equation. In my new world, I created the women who were lying on their backs with their legs in the air working for me. They walked the way that I did, talked the way I told them to talk and they dressed and conducted themselves the way I said a lady should. The day I became the madam was the last time I had sex. But I have to say, Mike Black would be the man to change all that. I remember the first time I saw him.

“Jada!”

“What?” I asked.

“Are you listening to me?” Jenna asked.

I looked at her and smiled. “To be honest with you, Jenna, no I wasn’t.”

“At least you’re honest about it,” Jenna said and walked off. I sat for a second thinking about Jenna and how rude I’d just been to her, and I planned to apologize to her the first chance I got. I didn’t want to lose her because I knew that Jenna Bobbit had the potential to be a big earner for me.

I met her at a fashion show that was given by Pierre Preston, one of the city’s hot, new designers. That evening I wore an Akris Punto silk, long-sleeve jacket with a notched collar, three-button close front patch pockets, and satin piping. And Jimmy Choo clue leather platform snipped, peep toe slingbacks. I was sitting next to a makeup artist called Tommy Rome, when I caught my first glimpse of Jenna. One of the models had broken a heel and was limping badly trying to get off stage. Jenna came out and helped her out. “I haven’t seen her on stage tonight,” I said to Tommy.

“She’s not a model. Not anymore,” he said. Tommy went on to explain how Jenna was a hot property when she was sixteen and seventeen. But her body matured after she turned eighteen. Her breasts got fuller, her hips spread, and she got some butt. “She got fat, honey,” Tommy said. “You know these Nancy’s like these girls to be skinny as a rail.”

I looked at the model that was walking across the stage in front of me. “Practically anorexic,” I commented.

“I’m sayin’: that one is all skin and bones,” Tommy agreed. “Anyway. When Jenna couldn’t drop the weight, she was a has-been as a model. Now she dresses them.”

“I want to meet her.”

Tommy introduced us that night, I gave her my card, and after I assured her that I wasn’t a lesbian trying to pick her up, we agreed to meet for dinner the following evening. I arrived dressed in a Proenza Schouler one-shoulder bubble dress with an asymmetrical neckline wrapped along the waist’s bubble hem; Proenza Schouler wedge ankle boots; and a 24-carat diamond ring with earrings to match, and a diamond-studded watch. As we talked about her former modeling career over dinner, I could tell that she was looking at the diamonds. I was purposely vague when she asked what I did for a living. I told her that I did recruiting and training, and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment.

I spoke with her daily for the next couple of days. Nothing more than “Hi, how’s it going,” and some idle chit-chat. Then I called her early one morning and asked if she wanted to go to a party with me. “Really, Jada.”

“Really, Jenna. But this is a very upscale affair and I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have an evening gown?”

“No,” Jenna said and sounded dejected.

I told her that I would pick her up in an hour and we spent the day shopping. I bought her a Carmen Marc Valvo ruched-satin cocktail dress with a sexy double V-neck to wear that evening. Along with Jimmy Choo lance-mirrored sandals and a clutch bag to match. That night at the party, Jenna asked me again what I did for a living, but before I could answer, she said, “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you do, Jada, I want to be a part of it.”

So I told her what I did, what I would do for her, and what I wanted her to do. “Do you still want to be a part of it?” I asked.

Jenna looked me in the eyes. “When do we start?”

I brought Jenna in to replace my top earner and best friend, Diane. She was my top earner, male or female client didn’t matter, Diane put in the work. One afternoon, I was sitting around the apartment relaxing with Diane and we were talking about our increase in business. I had just offered her, her choice of the last three appointments that came in. “What times are they?”

I ran my finger down the appointment schedule on my laptop. “Uh, seven, ten, and a late night will call.”

“Jackson?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll take them all,” Diane said.

I remember the speech I gave that first night that the ladies got together. “The most important thing that I’m going to teach you is how to conduct yourselves in a ladylike manner in every situation. Elegant and classy, ladies, that is who you are at all times.” I stood up and moved to the middle of the living room. “I’m going to teach you how to walk, how to talk.” I looked at Diane and she rolled her eyes. “And how to dress and how to conduct yourself at any occasion. Knowing what to say and what not to say, will make your company more desirable and therefore requested on a regular basis.”

I thought back to the day Diane came running into my office and shoved her hand in my face. “I’m getting married!” she yelled and then danced around the room like she was in a conga line. “I’m getting married, Jada,” she said and once again shoved her hand in my face. This time I grabbed it and looked at the ring. It was a princess-shape Mark Broumand platinum 3.41 carat diamond ring.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Jada?”

“Yes, Diane it is.” Then I asked the question. “Who asked you to marry them?” The reason Diane was my top earner was because she worked all the time. I didn’t think she had time for a social life.

“Jackson.”

“Jackson? You don’t mean Jackson Ponder?” Now it made sense, Jackson Ponder was one of my better clients, and Diane had been his only choice for the last two years.

“He took me to his country club last night to meet his friend, and this morning he asked me to marry him.”

Now that the initial shock had worn off, I got up and hugged Diane. “I am so happy for you, Diane.” And I was. Jackson Ponder was a multibillionaire. “You’re getting married, and to a very rich man,” I said and hugged her again.

“Every hoe’s dream,” Diane laughed.

“So when is the big day?”

“In two weeks,” Diane said. “And I got something to ask you, Jada,” Diane said and took a step back.

“What’s that?”

“Would you be my maid of honor?” Diane looked at me. “Please say yes, Jada. You’re my best friend, my only real friend. I couldn’t get married without you standing next to me.”

“Of course I will, Diane. I’m honored that you asked.”

“I haven’t decided who I’m going to ask to be bridesmaids yet,” Diane said and I smiled.

“Why choose.”

“What do you do mean?”

“Why not have all of the ladies as your bridesmaids?” I suggested. You see, Jackson Ponder was rich-very rich-and that usually meant that all of his friends were rich too. I saw it as an opportunity to recruit some new clients.

Well, Jackson only agreed to three bridesmaids, but I gave everybody the afternoon off to go to Diane’s wedding. But as soon as the reception was over, everybody went back to work. And even though I told her that she didn’t have to, Diane kept working. In fact, the wedding was at four o’clock and she took her last client at one.

In a very short time, I planned a beautiful affair. Everything was wonderful. One of his groomsmen was already a client, and he was nice enough introduce me around. Before the night was over, I had seven new clients and three more that I thought had potential, but just didn’t get to because they left early. But I did get each of their business cards and promised that I would get back to them within the week for cocktails. It seemed that most, if not all of the men there, knew how he’d met Diane, and that made it easy.

I started to ask Mr. Black to be my escort for the evening, but I knew that if he was there, all I would want to do was, smile in face and giggle like a schoolgirl over every word that came out of his mouth, and offer him my body. As good as that sounded to me, I knew that the evening would be better spent speaking with potential new clients. Once again, my passion for Mr. Black would have to wait.

Chapter Six

Kirk

Either it way too early or I was getting too old for this shit. It wasn’t quite six-thirty in the morning yet, and I was on my way to a triple. As I approached the crime scene, I saw that there was a crowd formed around the perimeter that the uniforms had setup. “Wasn’t too early for them,” I said and parked the car.

I made my way through the crowd of onlookers and showed my badge as I went under the tape. The first person I saw coming toward me was narcotics’ lieutenant, Gene Sanchez. He was a good guy as far as cops go, and as far as cops go, he was a good cop.

“Morning, Kirk,” Sanchez said and looked around. “Where’s your partner? Off somewhere beating a suspect?” he asked and shook my hand.

“On vacation.”

“And your captain let you work alone?”

“Nah, he tried to stick me with some broad that just got her shield and I told him that I was thinking about taking all of the six months of vacation I got accumulated, and he changed his mind.”

“Sounds like gender bias to me, Kirk,” Sanchez said and shook his finger at me as we approached the first of the three bodies.

“Not gender bias, Gene; I don’t have the patience to train no wet-behind-the-ears chick that just got her shield. I’m still training Richards and we’ve been partners for six years.”

“What she look like?”

“Oh, she’s hot. And I hear she was a good cop on the street,” I said and knelt down next to the body. “I just ain’t the guy to get her feet wet with.”

“If you want my opinion, and I notice that you haven’t asked for it, I think you’re the perfect guy to bust her cherry. You’re a good cop, Kirk, and a better detective then most of the guys in that unit.”

I looked at the body and got up. “That’s the same line of shit the captain ran on me. But you see she ain’t here, right?”

“You’re a piece of work this morning,” Sanchez said and laughed.

“It’s early and I haven’t had my coffee yet.” I looked at the other two bodies. “Any ID on this one?” I asked as we walked to the next body.

“Nope. Not on that one either,” Sanchez said as I took a look at the second body and moved on to the third. “Only one with any ID is her.”

I looked at her laying there dead, with the gun still in her hand, and shook my head. “Who was she?”

“Driver’s license says she’s Kenyatta Damson. Got a couple of arrests a few years back for possession with intent. Been off the grind for a while though.”

I looked at Sanchez. “You guys didn’t know about this spot?”

“No, I’m ashamed to say. And from what I’ve gotten from the few that have said something, she controlled the building.”

I looked at the crowd. “Anybody see what happened?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Uni’s canvas the building yet?”

“In progress. They’re going door-to-door, but so far nobody is talking.”

“Evidence techs done with the scene?”

“They’re finished. They saved the bodies for you.”

“Okay, let’s get them outta here,” I said, and they tagged and bagged the bodies. Once they were gone, I looked at the crowd again and walked over to three uniforms that weren’t doing anything. “Come with me.”

“Yes, sir,” they said and followed me back to the crowd.

I walked slowly along the tape line. “Get him,” I said, and one of the officers went and got him.

“What you fuckin’ wit’ me for? I ain’t do shit,” he protested.

I picked out two more and told the officers to keep them separated, and I would talk to them the later. “Okay folks!” I shouted. “Anybody who lives here can go back inside,” I said and the rest of the officers went about dispersing the crowd. As the building residences made there way back to the building, I looked them over carefully. I saw an older man shaking his head as he walked, and then he made eye contact with me. I caught up with him.

“Excuse me, sir. Did you see what happened here tonight?” I asked as we walked.

“No, sir, I didn’t see nothing,” he said louder than he needed to. Then he whispered. “Two thirteen.” And kept walking.

I let the rest walk by and get in the building before I moved. Just as I was about to go up to apartment 213 to hear what the man had to say, an officer rushed up to us. “Excuse me, detectives, but we found another body,” he said excitedly.

“Where?” Sanchez asked.

“In a vacant apartment on the third floor.”

“Call the techs back and tell them we got another one, Gene.” Sanchez pulled out his radio and got them to turn around, as we followed the officer to the third floor.

“Who found the body?” I asked along the way, then up the stairs.

“I did,” the officer said. “We were going door-to-door and that one wasn’t completely shut. I gave it a little shove and shined my light in there. Body is in the living room.”

“Anybody go in there?” Sanchez asked.

“No, sir. I left my partner to watch the door and I came to find you.”

“Good man,” Sanchez said and I shook my head. He might as well have patted the kid on the head and gave him a treat.

“See if you can get an ETA on the evidence techs,” I said as we got closer to the apartment. I borrowed the kid’s flashlight and shined it in the apartment. “Another woman, Gene,” I said and Sanchez looked in.

“You think this one is connected with the others?” he asked.

“Hard to say.”

“Lieutenant Reyes says he’s on his way up now,” the officer said, and we waited outside the apartment so the crime scene wouldn’t be distributed.

I waited until Reyes’s team got finished doing their job, before Sanchez and I went in. “What you got, Reyes?”

“Black female; shot once in the head at point blank range. Judging from the angle of the entry wound, either the shooter was very tall, or the victim was on her knees,” Reyes said.

“Executed,” Sanchez said. “I guess that answers our question about whether they’re related,” he said.

“Maybe,” I said.

“Maybe, but not necessarily, lieutenant,” Reyes said. “And I’m going purely on the state of rigor in the body. I’d say this one was shot a good seven hours before the ones outside. But give me some time and I’ll have a timeline for you; though she was definitely shot first.”

“Thanks, Reyes,” I said and left the apartment to let them bag and tag her.

I went downstairs and knocked on the door of apartment 213. When the door opened, the man hurried us in and scanned the hall to see if anybody had seen us come in. He quickly closed the door and locked it. I looked around the room and noticed the chair sitting next to the window. I motioned for Sanchez and he walked over to the window and looked out. “I’m Detective Kirkland,” I began.

“I don’t need to know all that. I know y’all the cops.”

I laughed a little. “Okay, sir, just tell us what you saw?”

“The killers; they rolled up in a black van, jumped out, and started shooting.”

“You were sitting here by the window when it happened?” Sanchez asked.

“I was watching television.”

“You always up this late?” I asked.

“I don’t get in from work ’til three. I always watch a little TV before I go to bed. I had been here about an hour when they come. Kenyatta and them other two, shot back, and the rest of them scattered.”

“You know what it was about?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“What’s it always about, officer: drugs. That girl and her thugs been regulatin’ this buildin’ for years. People coming and goin’, buying they dope all hours of the day and night.”

“How long have they been setup here?” Sanchez needed to know since this spot wasn’t on his radar.

“Shit, about two, maybe three years,” he said. “Now y’all got to go. You been in here just long enough for me to tell you I ain’t see nothing.” He started walking toward the door.

“Okay, sir, we’re going; but did you get a look at any of the shooters, or can you tell me what kind of van it was?”

“They was Black and so was the van, and that’s all I could see from here. Now y’all got to go,” he said and opened the door. Once we were out in the hall he stuck his head out. “Like I told you outside, officer, I ain’t see nothing,” he said loudly and slammed the door.

Sanchez and I walked away from apartment 213 in silence, and went down the steps. There were still the three guys from the crowd that I picked out, to talk to. I chose the three of them because, unlike most of the crowd who looked like they had just grabbed something to wear to run out and see the show, these three were dressed like they had been out all night doing business. They looked like dope boyz-pure and simple. Some call it profiling; I call it my job.

When I got outside, they had the three of them in separate cars. Sanchez and I got in the car on either side, with the first one. “You wanna tell me what happened out here tonight?”

“No.”

“Look, we can do this anyway you want; but you are going to tell me what happened.”

“No I ain’t. I got the right to remain silent,” he said with a smug look on his face like he had the world by the tail.

“That’s only if you were under arrest, which you’re not. Right now, I have all the rights. And I got the right to kick your fuckin’ ass, and then I’ll arrest you for resisting arrest,” I said.

“Yeah, but you ain’t gonna do that, ’cause I’ll sue your ass for police brutally.”

“You were injured while resisting arrest; wasn’t he lieutenant?”

“That’s how my report will read,” Sanchez said.

“Or maybe I’ll just shoot you in the back and say you were trying to escape.”

“You just tryin’ ta’ scare me.”

“Look, I know you were with them when the shooting started.”

“Who told you that?”

“I did,” Sanchez said. “We had you, asshole, under surveillance for months. We know all about Kenyatta Damson and the whole crew of you. You take a good picture.”

“What I get if I tell you what you wanna know?”

“I already told you: you get to get out of this car alive and with no broken bones,” I said.

“All right. I don’t know who them niggas was, but they rolled up on us and just started shooting. Blade was out front; he got cut down ’fore he got his gun out. Kenyatta and Fraz shot back but they were outgunned. Them niggas was bustin’ with AKs or some heavy shit like that.”

“And the rest of you ran for cover,” Sanchez said and got out of the car.

“I took-yeah, we just ran,” he said and dropped his head before he admitted that he was involved in the shooting.

“Thanks,” I said and got out of the car. We ran the same game on the other two and they told us the same story. I had the officers take them in, book them for loitering, and then let them go. At least we would have their prints and mug shots.

After Sanchez and I left the crime scene, he rode with me while I grabbed something to eat and some coffee, and then we headed back to the precinct. I wanted to get a look at the file he had on Kenyatta Damson and he not only wanted, but needed, to find out how this woman was running an operation like she was, and nobody in his unit knew anything about it. He didn’t say it, but I knew he had to be thinking that someone in his unit might be dirty.

While Sanchez wandered around the unit chewin’ ass, I dug into her file. Under the circumstances, I wasn’t expecting to find much. When Sanchez got done with his tirade, he came back in his office, sat down in front of me, and took a deep breath. “Was it good for you?”

“It was better for me than it was for them,” Sanchez said and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “What about you; you find anything?”

“Nothing current. You got any idea who was supplying this woman?” When Sanchez didn’t answer, I figured he didn’t. “What about Lorenzo Copeland; says he’s a known associate. Got anything current on him?”

Sanchez looked at me and then he looked out in the unit. He stood up. “Come on, Kirk, let’s go get some coffee.”

“Got some,” I said and held up my cup.

“Coffee’s better across the street. Come on,” Sanchez said and walked out of the office.

Now I’m a little slow sometimes, but it was obvious that he wanted to talk, and not in there. So I tossed my coffee in trash and followed him.

Sanchez walked across the street to the deli and went in. Since he wasn’t talking, I saw no point in going in with him. “I take mine black.” I leaned against a car and waited for him to come out.

“So, what are we talking about?” I asked when he handed me the cup.

“Lorenzo Copeland.”

“What about him?”

“Lorenzo Copeland is serving a life sentence for murder.”

“Okay,” I said and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“He murdered Officer Mike McDill,” Sanchez said and leaned on the car next to me.

“He was one of your guys, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, Gene, spill it.”

“What I’m about to tell you goes no further.”

“It’s just me, you, and the car.”

“About six months before it happened, McDill and his partner, Brown, busted a dealer named Bryce Tyler, one of Copeland’s people, for possession. He gives up everybody and we start building a case against Copeland. We get a warrant to search his apartment on Tyler’s word that Copeland is holding big weight. The dope was right where he said it would be, and they go to arrest Copeland and another character, whose name escapes me for the moment. The way I get it is that McDill hit Copeland in the face, and Copeland swung back. Brown pulls out his club and hits Copeland in the shin and he drops to his knees. Then both of them start hittin’ Copeland with their clubs and kickin’ him. Copeland grabbed McDill’s gun and shot him. Then Brown pulls his gun and shoots Copeland. The bullet hit him in the arm and he dropped the gun. When I got in there it was a free for all, my guys were kickin’ and hittin’ him with them clubs until I yelled, ‘That’s enough!’ after that, Copeland blacked out.”

“What happened, Gene?”

“We closed ranks.”

“The Blue wall.”

“McDill had a wife and three kids. So everybody’s statement left out the part about McDill hitting Copeland; and him and Brown beating him before he shot McDill,” Sanchez said and dropped his head.

“What about the other guy?”

“He was one of the star witnesses for the prosecution. He didn’t want any part of the murder charge, so he rolled on Lorenzo and did it quick. When he got on the stand he told the same story: Copeland grabbed McDill’s gun and killed him.”

“What’s happened to him and Tyler?”

“Tyler had a deal; so he testified in the murder trial against Copeland, and now he’s in witness protection. The other guy, I think his name was Chris Beck, he copped to possession and got five years.”

“DA must have wanted Copeland bad for them to give Tyler witness protection.”

“Copeland comes from a long line of drug dealers. His uncles, cousins-all dealers. DA thought if he could flip Copeland that he could get his suppliers.”

“Fuckin’ DA.”

“What can I say; it was an election year.”

“Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“On my sainted mother, that’s the whole story,” Sanchez said and crossed himself.

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you guys don’t have anything on this woman?”

“No, Kirk, it doesn’t. But I got some ideas about that.”

“Like what?” I had to ask.

“Give me a couple of days and ask me that again,” Sanchez said and sipped his coffee.

Just then I got a text from Reyes saying that he had ID’s on this morning’s victims. “That was Reyes,” I said and started walking back across the street toward the building.

“Mind if I tag along?” Sanchez said and I stopped.

“I hate to ask this, Gene, we go back a long way, but I gotta. What’s your interest here?”

“Let’s get out of the street,” Sanchez said and I had to agree. When we were back on the sidewalk, Sanchez stopped and faced me. “I know you’re thinking, just like I am, that the only way for this to be going on is for somebody blue to be taking green. This is my house, my guys; I need to get on top of it.”

“This is the part I don’t like. You’re not here to cover this up, are you?”

“I know you gotta ask, but a cop’s family getting his pension is one thing, covering for dirty cops is something else.”

“Good enough for me. Let’s go,” I said and went into the building.

“Right behind-partner.”

When we talked to Reyes and he gave us the names and rap sheets of the other three bodies. Robert King and Bernard “Blade” Bradshaw both had long records for possession and firearms violations, but the one that bothered me was the woman that was found in the vacant apartment. Her name was Shantia Lewis. All we had on her was a shoplifting charge and that was eight years old. We got her last known address from the DMV and headed over there.

What we found when we got there was police tape. “See if you can find out what happened here,” I said to Sanchez and got out of the car. I went under the tape and walked toward the house. As I got closer, I could see the chalk outline and the bloodstain on the pavement.

When I got back in the car, Sanchez had the rundown. “Her name was LeSean Wooden. Her and Lewis were roommates. Witnesses say that after they heard the shots, they saw three people lead Lewis away at gunpoint, and drive off in an old Chevy Nova.”

“She got a record?”

“Bad checks,” Sanchez said.

“So what do we have? We got two women: one gets dropped here and the other is taken by three people to the drug house, and they kill her there. A few hours later, three people, and I’m thinking that we’re talking about the same three people, get dropped at the drug house.”

“They take Lewis there; question her. She does or doesn’t tell them what they want to know and they kill her. Their people come after them, and in retaliation, they kill Damson, King, and Bradshaw.”

“I’m willing to go along with the first part: Damson and her people kill Wooden and kidnap and kill Lewis, but there’s more to it. What was this about? And who are our shooters?”

“We don’t have a lot to go on.”

I started the car and drove off. “Maybe I’m trying to read too much into this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this could be the same as every other day, dope dealers fighting for turf, bullshit.”

“If what the old man says is true, that’s been a good spot for them for years.”

“I need to know who was supplying Damson, and who would want to take over that spot,” I said and headed for the station to dig a little deeper.

What I found was more dead-ends. Chris Beck was murdered on the yard two weeks after he got to prison. Bryce Tyler disappeared from witness protection over a year ago. The only person I found that I could talk to was Nina Thomas, Copeland’s old girlfriend. It was a long shot, but maybe she could give me something to go on; ’cause right now, I had nothing.

Chapter Seven

Rain Robinson

The first place I went was to a little bar up on the avenue, where Jay Easy and his crew used to hang out. The last time I was there, I walked out with that nigga on my arm so I could kill him. He had sent people to rob my dope spots and kill my dealers. “I thought we had something. I was ready to do life for you. I gets out and come lookin’ for my woman, and you play me off for this nigga,” Jay Easy said to me that night.

“So you decide to start robbin’ me?”

“I still got all the dope and the money. After I’d shut you down I was gonna step to you and give it all back.”

“Bullshit! After all this shit, you was just gonna hand it all back to me?”

“Yeah. I wanted to show you that you needed me in your life. Not this nigga! He can’t do the shit for you that I can.” He just didn’t know. Nick had done more for me and to me in a week, than he did the whole time I knew him.

I parked outside the spot and I knew that if his crew was there, they wouldn’t be glad to see me. I checked my weapon and went in, thinkin’ that maybe I should have called Nick and asked him to ride with me on this. But he would be mad ’cause I wasn’t in bed restin’ like he’d told me to, and I didn’t feel like hearin’ his mouth.

I stepped inside and looked around. I saw his boy Fred Mac, and two other niggas I’d never seen before, sittin’ at a table in the back. I walked back there and they stopped talkin’ when they saw me comin’. I opened my coat and made sure they saw my gun when I stopped at the table. “What you doin’ in here, Rain?” Fred Mac asked.

“I’m lookin’ for Jay’s brother, Kevin. You seen him?”

“It’s been a minute since I seen Kevin. Let’s see, oh yeah, it was at Jay’s funeral, after you shot him.”

“I ain’t got no beef wit’ you, Mac. Me and you always been cool. So unless you sayin’ you was in that shit wit’ him, I want to keep it that way. You know what Jay was doin’ to me and why it went the way it did.”

“Yeah, okay, right-we cool and all that, and the shit Jay did was foul, but did you have to shoot him in the face?” Fred Mac asked and the guys with him laughed a little. “That’s what’s blowin’ Kevin and them. That closed casket funeral shit.”

“Whatever. You tell Kevin I got one for him, too, when I find his ass. You tell him that if he got a problem with me, he needs to grow some balls and bring that shit to my face. Not go after my brother,” I said and walked off.

I hung around for a while and talked to some more people before I left. Nobody had seen Kevin Easely or would tell me where he lived. I left the spot and was headed for the car, when I felt somebody walkin’ up behind me.

“Rain.”

I turned around quickly and pointed my gun. That shit hurt like hell.“Step out in the light where I can see you.”

When they stepped up I saw it was Dee. A crackhead that hung around the bar doin’ whatever he had to do to get money for another bump. “Don’t shoot me, Rain,” he said and walked toward me with his hands up. Even though I didn’t think I had anything to worry about, I kept my gun pointed at him, just in case he was desperate and wanted to try something foolish.

“What you want, Dee?”

“I didn’t mean to get in your business, but I heard what you was askin’ about in there.”

“And.”

“And I know somebody that might know what happened to your brother.”

“Who?”

“He’s name is Whitlow. He just got out of Rikers and he was down with Kevin before he went in.”

“I already know what happened.”

“Yeah, but he might know who did it,” Dee said.

“Where is he?” I asked and put my gun to his head.

Dee flinched and covered his head. “What you gonna give me?”

Ain’t this a bitch? Dee was scared to death, but he still gonna try and get some money. “I’m gonna give you a bullet in the brain if you don’t tell me.”

“He was down there by the train station about an hour ago.”

“Come on,” I said and grabbed Dee by the collar. “Show me.”

I kept my gun in his back and we walked down the street toward the train station. “That’s him,” Dee said and pointed.

“Where?”

“Over there in the jean jacket.”

“Now if this nigga don’t know shit about my brother, I’ma come find you and put one in your head,” I said and handed Dee a fifty.

“Thank you, Rain; thank you. Anything I can do for you, it’s done.”

“You hear anything you think I need to know about, you come find me and it’ll always be like that. I take care of people that look out for me,” I said and kept my eyes on Whitlow as Dee hurried away.

I stood there and watched him for a while and then he started walking across the street, so I followed him. He went inside the liquor store. I stood at the window and watched as Whitlow stepped up to the counter and pulled out a thirty-eight. Damn shame; mutha fucka just got out the joint and already robbin’ a liquor store. I needed to talk to him, so waited for him to come out. When he ran out of the store, I shot him once in the leg and he went down. When he rolled over and tried to raise his gun, I shot him in the arm and he dropped the gun. I walked up on him. “Your name Whitlow?” I asked with my gun to his head.

“You a cop?”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ cop to you?”

“What you want?”

“You just got outta Rikers?”

“Yeah.”

“You know Miles Robinson?” I could tell by the way his eyes bucked open that he did. “Who stabbed him?”

“He’ll kill me.”

“I already shot you twice, one more to the head ain’t gonna make me no difference,” I said and pressed my gun against his temple. I could hear the sirens coming in the background. “Make up your mind. You can tell me who stabbed my brother so I can go kill him, or the cops will find you here dead.”

“I don’t know what his name is, but they call him Baby John.”

“Thank you,” I said and helped Whitlow get up. “Get outta here before I change my mind,” I said and Whitlow limped away.

Chapter Eight

Mike Black

Jada West. What to do about Jada West. The first time I saw Ms. West was at a little club where she used to dance. We talked for a minute and then I had business to take care of, so I left thinking that she was one of the most beautiful women that I had ever met; and wondered what a beauty like that was doin’ dancin’ in a dive like Ecstasy? Then I thought about Mercedes. She’s a dancer at Cynt’s and she is drop-dead fuckin’ gorgeous, but she had about as much brains as a box of rocks. I mistakenly put Ms. West in that same category and didn’t give her anymore thought.

“Black.”

“Huh?”

“We’re here,” Victor said.

“Don’t look like that. I’m not gonna kill Sabrina. I just want to ask her some questions about Bo,” I said and Victor and I walked toward the house.

“Yeah, you told me. But suppose she gives you the wrong answers?”

“Then I’d have you kill her,” I said and kept walking. Victor stopped. “I’m only kiddin’. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” Victor had been fuckin’ Sabrina, so I wouldn’t ask him to kill her. I’d get Monika to do it. But I didn’t think that would be necessary. I just wanted to ask her some questions about Bo. Before I had him killed, Bo Freeman worked for me. He had to die when he and his partner, Hank Jackson, conspired with Cruz Villanova to kill me, Nick, and Bobby. They’re all dead now.

I rang the bell and waited for Sabrina to answer. Sabrina Cole was a very beautiful thirty-seven-year-old woman who talked slow, and was just country enough to be sexy. She had been with Bo for twelve years; since she’d arrived in New York from Mississippi. During that time she’d had two years of good and ten years of bad. Her life was made bearable when she started sneakin’ around with Victor. “Hey, Black,” Sabrina said when she opened the door. “Hey, Victor.”

“How you doin’ tonight, Sabrina?” I asked.

“I’m doing just fine, Black. Y’all come in,” she said and stepped aside.

I leaned close to Victor and whispered, “Wait here.” His eyes opened wide. “Don’t worry. I told you I wasn’t gonna kill her.” Victor didn’t look convinced. “Right,” I said and handed him my gun. “That make you feel better?”

“A little,” Victor said.

“Y’all comin’?” Sabrina asked.

“Comin’ right now,” I said and closed the door behind me.

Sabrina led me into the living room and I sat down. “You know something, Black?”

“What’s that, Sabrina?”

“I been invitin’ you over here for dinner or drinks and whatnot for years, and this is the first time you been here.” Sabrina sat down across from me. “Now, I’m not tryin’ to be rude or disrespectful or nothin’ like that, but what you want, Black?”

“I want you to know, for what it’s worth, I liked Bo, and I’m sorry it turned out the way it did.”

“I’m glad you came to say that, but that ain’t what you here for, is it?” Sabrina asked. She was a beautiful woman; I understood what had Victor so excited.

“You know what Bo was plannin’?”

“No. Bo never talked to me about y’all’s business.”

“Who was over here talkin’ to Bo the last couple of weeks?”

“One night Hank, Bull Harris, and Skip Skinner was here.”

“You hear what they was talkin’ about?”

“No, Bo told me to go to the club and stay gone until he called for me,” Sabrina said.

“What did you do?”

“I called Victor.”

“He just made it too easy for you, didn’t he, Sabrina?”

Sabrina smiled and laughed a little. “Yeah, Black, he really did.”

“I’ve been tellin’ men for years: don’t leave your homework undone, ’cause there is always some man that is more than willing to do it for you,” I said and Sabrina’s smile got bigger.

“Guess you didn’t have that little talk with Bo, huh? If you did, he didn’t listen.”

“Anybody else come by here lately?”

“Cruz Villanova.”

“He come alone?

“No, his boy, Jorge, was always with him.”

“Anything else you think I need to know about?”

“I think Bo had something to do with Kenny gettin’ killed.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I heard him talkin’ to Bull one night and I heard him say somethin’ like: ‘He wouldn’t be dead if he had got with me in the first place.’ I didn’t think nothin’ of it, but now, after all that’s gone on, I think he was talking about Kenny.”

I got up. “Bo was involved in a lot of things.”

When I was leaving the house, Sabrina walked me to the door and I made her come out to show Victor that I didn’t kill her.

“I told you that I wasn’t gonna kill her. You gotta learn to trust me,” I said to Victor as he drove off. “Now, get Bobby on the phone for me.”

“Bobby; it’s Victor. Black wants to talk to you. Hold on,” Victor said and handed the phone to me.

“You busy?”

“Not really,” Bobby said.

“Where you at?”

“I’m at Grant’s. Why?”

“Stay there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I need to talk to you about something,” I said and ended the call. I handed Victor back his phone and relaxed.

“You find out what you wanted to know from Sabrina?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t think Bo and Hank was in it alone, do you?”

I glanced over at Victor. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t”

“I don’t either; but tell me why you don’t?”

Victor swallowed hard, like he was about to answer a test question. “Even if they killed you, Bobby, and Nick, Bo still wouldn’t have a clear path to the throne. He would have to contend with Sherman and Howard. And if Wanda ever figured out that him and Hank was behind it, she would come after him with everything she had. In either one of those scenarios, Bo would need all the muscle he could get. That’s where Bull Harris and Skip Skinner come in.”

“Good answer.” I was starting to like Victor. He was smart and he wasn’t afraid of shit, but like I said, he wasn’t ruthless like Freeze was. Still, if I kept him around, showed him a few things-who was I kiddin’. I knew I wasn’t gonna be around to train him to handle power like I’d done with Freeze. If I didn’t have to handle this little matter, I’d be in Nassau right now. Lately, the most important thing in the world is being Michelle’s father. Maybe that’s what almost dyin’ does for you; makes you understand and appreciate the things that are really important in your life. And that’s Michelle. She already lost her mother because of my shit; so what was I doing out here runnin’ the risk of her losing her father, too? I grew up without a father; so I understand what’s it’s gonna be like for her. Maybe that’s why I’ve gravitated toward CeCe. She was great with Michelle and Michelle was crazy about her.

CeCe’s a good woman. Not the scheming baller’s ex-girlfriend I’d made her out to be. I was content with her. There was no drama in our life and I liked it that way. It’s the closest that I’ve ever come to a normal life, and that seems to have a haunting pull on me.

And then I thought about Jada West. She had a haunting pull on me, too, but for entirely different reasons.

We pulled up in front of Grant’s and went inside. Bobby wasn’t hard to find. He was sitting at a table near the back, and was surrounded by women. Before I went over there, I stopped by Grant’s office. He had run that spot and few number joints for me for years. I liked Grant, but I didn’t respect him. It wasn’t business. He was a smart businessman and a good earner; I just had no respect for him. He was too easily led, too quick to go along. Like he didn’t stand for shit. But like I said, he was a good earner.

Once I showed Grant some respect-it wouldn’t be right for me to be in his house and not speak-Victor and I went and sat down with Bobby. “What’s up, Mike?” Bobby said.

“Ladies, would you excuse me; I need to talk to Mr. Ray for a minute.”

Victor got up and herded the ladies away from the table. “Victor.”

“Yes, Black.”

“When you’re done with them, you can take off,” I said, and I could see that he looked disappointed as he walked away. I thought that he would be in a hurry to get back to Sabrina, but I guess not. He wanted to be a part of whatever I had planned for Bull and Skip. I turned to Bobby.

“Since you ran off all the women, this better be important,” Bobby said and picked up his drink.

“I think it is. Listen, Cruz Villanova, Bo, and Hank tried to kill us.”

“I was gonna talk to you about that. I don’t think it stops there. If Bo and Hank planned it, then them other two members of the fearsome foursome, Skip and Bull Harris, had to be in on it.”

“So when was you plannin’ on talkin’ to me about it?”

“Next time I was with you, which is now; so I’m tellin’ you.”

“Come on,” I said and got up.

“Where you thinkin’ about goin’?”

“I was thinkin’ about findin’ and killin’ these niggas. Wanna come along? Or should I call Victor back over here? I know he wants to go.”

Bobby finished his drink and got up. “Let’s go.”

When we got in the car and drove off, I could tell that he had something on his mind. For the next couple of hours, we rode from spot to spot looking for Bull and Skip. They were nowhere to be found, and nobody had seen them. That just made me believe that I was right about them. “Where we headed?” Bobby asked.

“I thought we’d stop by and see Nita Blue.”

“What you wanna see her for?”

“She hates Bull; so she kept tabs on him.” I thought for a minute. “And besides, I want a piece of her action.”

“You have for years.”

“This may be a way for both of us to get what we want.”

“You were gonna kill Bull anyway. Makes sense to let her think you’re doin’ her a favor,” Bobby said. “Good idea.”

“Thank you. I try to think up smart shit,” I said and waited for Bobby to say something, but he didn’t.

“You remember Keisha and Connie Mack?” Bobby asked.

“The Mack sisters. How could I forget them? Those were two fine-ass mutha fuckas.”

“Used to always be together,” Bobby said and laughed.

“Whenever you saw one, the other was around somewhere. They were inseparable.”

“How did we get them apart?” Bobby asked.

“You grabbed Keisha by the arm and dragged her in the room.”

“Yeah.” Bobby shook his head. “I had to talk to her for over an hour before she gave up that pussy.”

“Shit, soon as you closed the door, Connie looked at me and said, ‘wanna go in my room?’ ” I looked at Bobby. “Ain’t Keisha the one that used to go around sayin’ that you were her baby’s daddy?”

“That’s her.”

“What made you think about them?”

“Her daughter is dancin’ at Grant’s,” Bobby said.

“She call you daddy?”

“No!”

“She look like you?”

“No!”

“How you know she’s Keisha’s daughter?”

“She walked up to me and said, ‘You Bobby Ray, right?’ I said: yes. She said, ‘My mama said to tell you hello.’ So I asked: who’s your mama? She put her hand on her hip and said, ‘Keisha Mack.’ ”

“She got big-ass hips like her mama?”

“She look just like her mama. Got a body like her too,” Bobby said.

“Suppose that is your daughter? How would you feel about your daughter dancin’ at Grant’s?”

“It don’t matter ’cause she ain’t my daughter, Mike,” Bobby said, and I could tell he was gettin’ a little mad. Just like he did back then.

“Let me put it another way. How would you feel if Barbara, or better yet, if Bonita and Brenda were dancin’ at Grant’s? How would you feel then?”

“But they’re not.”

“They dance.”

“They do ballet!”

“Mercedes told me she used to do ballet,” I said quickly.

“Mercedes is dumber than a box of rocks,” Bobby partially shouted.

“What’s that got to do with it? She said that’s why she can stand in them four-inch stilettos and lift her leg straight up in the air-it’s from the balance she learned from doin’ ballet for years.”

“Fuck you, Mike.”

I laughed and so did Bobby. “All I’m sayin’ is that you need to find out if that’s your daughter or not. ’Cause I know I wouldn’t want Michelle shakin’ her ass in none of our spots or anyplace else. And I know you don’t want that for your girls either.”

“You right, Mike.”

“What she call herself?”

“Butta.”

I laughed again. “She got a big, round ass like her mama and her Aunt Connie?”

“Why you think they call her Butta?”

“Talk to Keisha. Find out if that’s your girl or not. If she is, give her a better life,” I said and then I dropped it.

I remembered that night with Connie; more because of what happened the day after. The next morning we went with Andre to meet with Greg Lacey. He was the closest thing Andre had to competition those days. Lace was what they used to call up-and-coming. But to me, he was a loudmouth fool who was always talkin’ when he should be listening. Even though I ended up killing Andre for betraying me, I listened to what he had to say and learned a lot from him.

But not Lace, he thought he knew it all, and tried to force his way into a piece of Andre’s game. It began one day when one of the guys who sold heroin for Andre started operating on a block that Lace considered his. Andre’s man killed him and Lace wanted satisfaction; so Andre agreed to sit down with him. The move surprised me, because Andre was king those days, and sitting down with Lace would make him appear stronger. But Andre knew what he was doing.

What surprised me more was when he told me and Bobby that we were going with him. Usually, his right-hand man, Ricky, would be the one to go to sit down with him. “I’m takin’ you two with me,” Andre said. “But I can’t take you niggas nowhere dressed like that.” That afternoon, Andre took me and Bobby down to Delancey Street and bought both of us a suit to wear to the sit down. He even had them tailored to fit us. We went and had dinner while the tailor got them ready. That’s how me and Bobby got with Keisha and Connie that night. Keisha liked the way Bobby looked in that suit. Before that night, Keisha wouldn’t give Bobby the time of day.

We were all set to go to the meeting, when one of Lace’s people called and said Lace was busy and couldn’t make it, but he would be there at ten that next morning. “He’s playin’ me like a sucker,” Andre said. “But that’s all right; I got something for his ass. Y’all go on and get outta here. And don’t get them fuckin’ suits dirty. I want you both lookin’ fresh; show this piss-ant nigga how a real playa does it.” We left Andre’s and ran into Connie and Keisha. When we got in her room, I told Connie, “Look, I need to get outta this suit. I got business in the morning and I can’t get it wrinkled.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Connie said and helped me get undressed.

That next morning, I got out of bed and called Andre to make sure it was still on. He wanted to know where we were, and said that he would come pick us up. I sent Connie to wake up Bobby and I got in the shower.

When we got to the meeting, Lace was there with four of his men, and he wasted no time. He started talkin’ shit the minute we walked in the place. Andre took it for the most part, until Lace said, “Your man was operating in my territory.”

Andre laughed. “I didn’t know you had a territory.”

After Lace got finished with his little speech, Andre looked at me and Bobby. “I’m a reasonable man. So I’m sure we can work something out so both of us can make some money. I don’t want anymore of this unfortunate gunplay.” He looked around the room. “It’s bad for business. So this is how we’ll do it: I’ll keep my people out of your territory and you respect mine.”

Lace had a big shit-eatin’ grin on his face. “That’s works for me. But I’m tellin’ you now, this shit happens again, I ain’t gonna be this reasonable about it. I’m gonna want blood.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at him.

“Nobody wants war,” Andre said. “Now, pour me one and let’s drink to this peace we just made.”

Lace poured Andre a drink and was about to pour one for me and Bobby. “No,” Andre stopped him, “they don’t drink.”

Andre, Lace, and his men, drank and talked shit, while me and Bobby looked on. Then Andre stood up and started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Lace asked.

“Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I ain’t givin’ you niggas shit.” When Andre said that, me and Bobby pulled out our guns and started shooting. The move caught them totally off guard, and we were able to kill two of them before they got their guns out.

Lace didn’t have a gun, so he tried to run, while we shot it out with his men. Andre pulled his gun and shot Lace in the back as he ran. Lace tried to crawl away and Andre walked him down. “Look around you, boy,” Andre said and kicked Lace in the face. “All this is my territory.” Then Andre shot Lace in the head.

Chapter Nine

Jada West

Once I had Jenna on board, I began to work with her. I have to say that she was the easiest woman that I’ve ever trained. Since she had been modeling for years, she had the poise and carriage of a polished lady. Jenna knew how to walk, and how to use her eyes and facial expressions to convey certain emotions. Most of my work was spent teaching her how to speak, and adjusting her mindset from being one that looked for a man to please her, to one of a woman whose only desire was to please her client. Jenna Bobbit was going to be excellent.

As a reward for being such a good student, I took her for her first spa treatment. I always enjoy spa day at Caudalie Vinotherapie Spa in the Plaza Hotel. Spa rituals range from classic massages to wraps and scrubs, facial and body treatments, to nail and waxing services. Occupying the fourth floor of the spa was thirteen treatment rooms, along with a VIP suite for two, a Vichy shower, two hammams, and a unique barrel bath, where guests can soak in red wine or delicately crushed grape extracts.

Before and after treatments, guests are invited to the private French Paradox Wine Lounge to sip wines recommended by the spa’s sommelier. I usually get the Premier Cru Treatment. It’s an intensely rejuvenating treatment based on Caudalie’s most precious cream. The treatment begins with a calming massage that helps soothe and ground you, preparing you for the experience to come. A relaxation massage is gently performed on the head, neck and shoulders. Next, a deep smoothing of the face and neck; a long sculpting massage to the face; followed by a warm thermal mask. My entire body experiences total relaxation.

As I lay there, I allowed myself to slip into my usual fantasy. The seduction of Mike Black. I would answer the door to my suite, dressed in a black charmeuse robe with lace silk, and satin high-heel slippers. I’d invite him in and ask him to have a seat. “Champagne?” I’d offer.

I could feel his eyes on me as I poured the champagne. I’d come and sit down next to him, and we’d chat and laugh the way we always did whenever we’re together. Then he’d lean over and kiss me. “What took you so long?” I’d ask as his mouth cupped mine again. Then I would stand up and hold out my hand. Mr. Black would take my hand and I’d lead him to the bed.

I could almost feel Mr. Black kiss me again, nibbling on my chin, and sucking ever so gently on my neck. He would take off his shirt and ease the robe from my body while he kissed me. Once my breasts were exposed, he would lower his head and take my nipple between his lips. Ohh, my. Just thinking about it makes me feel warm sensations rushing through my body.

Each time I see him, I always plan to seduce him; but something, and that something was usually business, either his or mine, prevents it from becoming a reality.

As the masseur worked magic with her fingers, I thought back to the last time I saw Mr. Black. It was at a party given by Congressman Martin Marshall. The invitation said that the affair began at nine. I was dressed in a red Carolina Herrera off-the-shoulder, draped silk gown with a deep V back and a high front slit; Jimmy Choo lance mirrored open toe sandals, shiny mirrored leather with a double ankle buckle and a 4?-inch heel. I arrived at eleven; just in time to be fashionably late. I was supposed to meet Diane and Tangela House there, but it was getting close to midnight and I hadn’t seen either of them.

I knew that Diane wasn’t the problem; she was never late for an appointment. I knew the reason they were late had something to do with Tangela. She had only been with me for a few months. When Diane first brought her to me, I thought she had so much potential: five feet seven inches tall, one hundred and twenty pounds, long silky black hair, full breasts, and curvaceous hips. Although she was black, Tangela’s skin was creamy; almost white enough to pass. At first she worked out well, but lately I’d had some complaints from her clients.

“Hello, Ms. West,” said a voice from behind me.

I turned around to see who it was. “Well, hello, Congressman Canfield.”

“How have you been, my dear?” the congressman asked.

I looped my arm in his. “I have been just fine. Wondering why it has been so long since we last spoke,” I said as he escorted me to the bar.

“I’ve been in Washington, my dear; doing the country’s business. And unfortunately, your, shall we say influence, doesn’t extend that far.”

“My dear, congressman, I believe that is why they made airplanes.”

Congressman Canfield smiled. “I believe you’re right.”

“Are you going to be in town for a while?”

“A day or two maybe,” Congressman Canfield said.

“Perhaps we could get together for lunch; in our usual spot, of course. And we can discus some type of exclusive arrangement. I’m sure that I can handle all of your needs,” I suggested.

“Perhaps we could do just that,” Congressman Canfield said, and then he was approached by another man.

“Geoffrey,” the man said.

“Ms. West, this is Congressman Terrence Redding.”

I accepted the congressman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He bowed slightly and kissed my hand. “Believe me, Ms. West, the pleasure is all mine. But you must excuse me, I need to steal Geoffrey away from you for a minute,” Congressman Redding said.

“That’s quite all right.” I turned to Geoffrey. “I hope to speak with you soon, congressman.”

“I am sure that you will, Ms. West. Please, excuse me,” he said and walked off with Congressman Redding. I’d heard a few things about Redding and I intended to make it my business to get back to him and make him a client before I left.

I looked at the door and saw the ladies coming toward me. Tangela was wearing a Carmen Marc Valvo halter crepe gown, crafted with delicate sequins, a pleated neckline and an open back. Diane was wearing an Armani Collezioni blue stretch silk gown with ruched bodice, and softly draped front and spaghetti straps. I looked at my watch as they got closer to me. Diane cut her eyes at Tangela. “Sorry we’re so late,” Tangela said.

“You’re here now and that’s what’s important. Go ahead and mingle,” I said and both ladies started to walk off. “Diane, may I speak with you for a minute?” I waited until Tangela was far enough away. “Okay, Diane, what’s the problem here? You are never late.”

“I know, Jada, and I’m so sorry. But I had to wait on Tangela to get ready.”

“What took her so long, Diane? Because her hair was done earlier today and it doesn’t take that long to put on a dress?”

“Tangela has a problem,” Diane said reluctantly.

“What kind of problem,” I pressed. “What is really going on?”

“She has a drug problem and it’s getting worse.”

“I thought as much,” I said and shook my head.

“I’m sorry, Jada. It’s my fault.”

“No, Diane, it’s mine. I should have known that if she was a friend of Creme’s, she had the same issues that Creme did. Go on and mingle,” I said and Diane disappeared into the crowd. I was so disgusted with myself for not seeing that coming. I should have known better. I went straight to the bar and ordered a drink.

I stood there for a while sipping my drink and thinking about Creme, and I wanted to kick myself.

The bartender brought me another drink and I looked around the bar. My eyes focused on Tangela standing there talking to Congressman Cantifield and Congressman Redding. I watched as she gently touched Cantifield’s face and looped her arm in his, just the way I taught her. But instead of being happy about how she was working him, all I could think about was her drug problem and how I hoped she wouldn’t ruin my relationship with Congressman Cantifield, or the one I planned to forge with Congressman Redding.

I finished my drink and was just about to order another when I heard, “Hello, Ms. West.”

That voice seemed to reverberate throughout my entire body. Suddenly all thought of Tangela, her drug issues, and business, escaped me. I smiled and turned around. “Good evening, Mr. Black.” He was wearing a tuxedo and he was wearing it well.

“You look extraordinary this evening,” Mr. Black said.

I gently touched his face and looped my arm in his. “Why, thank you, Mr. Black. You look very handsome in a tuxedo.” And I want to rip it off you, I thought, but didn’t say.

“I was just about to get a drink. Can I get something for you?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re drinking.”

He signaled for a bartender. “Remy Martin, VSOP, and one for the lady.”

“I think you better make mine on the rocks,” I said and thought back to the days when I used to drink Hennessy straight from the bottle.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Black.”

He leaned close to me and I wanted to kiss him. “Believe me, Ms. West, it is my pleasure to see you. Did I mention how nice you look in that dress?” he asked as the bartender returned with our drinks. He handed one to me.

“Yes, I believe you did, but don’t let that stop you,” I said and laughed a little. “You can never tell a lady that she looks nice too many times.”

“Well you look beautiful, Ms. West.”

“I’m actually quite surprised to see you here. I know that you mentioned that you knew Martin Marshall.” I looked around the room. “This just doesn’t seem like your type of affair.”

“It’s not. And I was just leaving. That’s when I saw you standing here, and I had to come and say hello.”

“I am so glad that you did.” I looked at him; he was undressing me with his eyes. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, since you said this isn’t your type of affair, but I don’t think you’d tell me.”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“I had some people to meet. This is where I could meet with them all at one time; socially of course.”

“Of course,” I said as the band broke into a slow vamp.

He put his glass on the bar. “Would be like to dance, Ms. West?” he asked and reached for my hand.

“I would love to dance, Mr. Black.” I accepted his hand and followed him onto the dance floor. He pressed his body against mine and I melted into him. It felt so good being in his arms. I closed my eyes and my thoughts drifted to the scene I’d imagined in my suite: Imagining how it would feel to have him inside me. I thought about whether I was going to wait to be asked, or if was I just going to offer myself to him.

When the song ended, he led me off the dance floor to very impatient looking woman. “Ms. West, I’d like you to meet my lawyer Wanda Moore. Wanda, this is Jada West.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Moore,” I said graciously.

“Likewise. Are you ready to go, Mike,” she asked and glanced at her watch.

“You have to go?”

He looked at his lawyer and then at me. “I have someplace I need to be,” he said.

“And we’re already late,” Ms. Moore said and I wanted to kick her.

I put on my best smile. “I am sure I’ll see you again soon, Mr. Black.”

“I’m sure you will, Ms. West,” he said. And that night, once again, I watched him walk away from me.

Chapter Ten

Nina Thomas

After the night I’d had, I wasn’t surprised that I slept late that day. I had just gotten out of the shower and dressed when the doorbell rang. I went to the door and peeked out. Since I didn’t see anybody, I yelled, “Who is it?”

“It’s Leon,” he said and stuck his head where I could see him.

I opened the door and let him in. He gave me a big hug and we talked for a while, and then he got quiet. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“About what you and your friends is plannin’, Nina.”

“How you-,” I started to ask, but I knew the answer. “Pearl told you?”

Leon laughed. “No, Pearl told Diamond; Diamond told me what you was plannin’. I came to talk you out of it.”

“We took care of it last night,” I said.

Leon dropped his head. “Any problems?” he asked. I could tell by the look on his face that he was disappointed in me.

“Nope,” I said. I didn’t think he needed or wanted to know the details. The doorbell rang again and I got up to see who it was. “No problem at all.”

I looked out and saw a man standing there. “Who is it?”

“Police. I’m looking for Nina Thomas.”

“No problems, huh?” Leon said.

A cold chill came over me as I opened the door.

“Sorry to bother you, Miss Thomas. My name is Detective Kirkland, and I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Can I come in?”

I opened the door a little wider and let him come in. As soon as he saw Leon sitting there, his expression changed. “Hello, Leon.”

“What’s up, Kirk?” Leon said.

“I heard you moved to Florida. I didn’t know you were back in the city?”

“No, sir; I’m just here visiting.”

“Leon Copeland,” Kirk said and smiled. He looked at me. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Please, have a seat,” I said and the doorbell rang again.

“I’ll get that,” Kirk said and went to the door and opened it. “Come on in, Gene. There’s somebody here that you might remember from the old days.”

Another man walked in and took a look at Leon. His reaction was the same. “Leon Copeland.”

“Lieutenant Sanchez,” Leon said.

“I heard you took your business to Florida,” the Lieutenant said. “I didn’t know you were back in the city?”

“No, he said he’s just here visiting.”

“Who?” The lieutenant asked.

“I came to see my sister Angel.”

My phone rang and I looked at the cops. “You can go ahead and answer it,” Kirk said.

I picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“It’s Teena. I just heard the Kenyatta and two of her folks got dropped last night at her spot,” she said excitedly.

“Really, girl. You gonna have to tell me about that later. I got company right now,” I said as casually as I could.

“Company? Bitch, this shit is important.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, girl,” I said and hung up, and when I did the cops got back to Leon.

“What are you doing here, Leon?” Kirk asked.

“Miss Thomas used to date my cousin,” Leon said.

“Lorenzo Copeland,” Kirk said and looked at the lieutenant.

“That’s right. I just stopped by to holla at her.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Kirk said.

“Why is that, Kirk?” Leon asked.

“Because it just might answer a question that was nagging me.”

“Glad I could help, Kirk. You wanna tell me what that is?”

“Sure. Last night three people, Kenyatta Damson, Robert King and Bernard “Blade” Bradshaw, were killed outside of her drug spot. We also found the body of another woman, Shantia Lewis; she was executed in a vacant apartment in the same building,” Kirk said, and I did my best to look like it meant nothing to me. “She used to work for your cousin Lorenzo.”

“And since he’s in jail,” Sanchez said with a big smile on his face. “We were wondering who was supplying her. That wouldn’t be you, would it, Leon?”

“No, sir. I don’t have no business in New York no more.” Leon looked at Kirk. “You know that, Kirk.”

“You made a deal with Black?”

Leon didn’t answer, but it was apparent that everybody but me knew what he was talking about. I knew I should just keep quiet since they seemed to be more interested in Leon than me, but I couldn’t. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, Miss Thomas, go ahead.”

“What are you doing here? I don’t know any of those people you mentioned; so why are you here?”

Kirk and Sanchez both stood up. “We came here hoping that you might help us find some of your boyfriend’s associates and we found you with Leon,” Kirk said. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. But I’m sure we’ll talk again.”

After that, the cops left my apartment and I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked at Leon. He was sitting there with his head in his hands. “That’s not good, Nina. You don’t wanna be nowhere around nothing Kirk is involved in. You need to shut down now and come South with me for a while until that is closed, or until Kirk moves on to something else.”

“Why? I didn’t kill none of them,” I said and knew that Shantia Lewis was the one Teena executed. “Why do you think we need to shut down?”

“Nina, listen to me. If Kirk came to see you, fuck what he said, that means he knows that you’re involved with Kenyatta. Next thing you know, they have you under surveillance, if they don’t already, and then you’ll be in jail.”

I trusted Leon, he was more than just my supplier, Leon was family. He was my mentor. It was Leon who taught me the game after Lorenzo went to jail. He told me that I needed to build my own team. And I did. The only exception to that was Kenyatta. I had known her since junior high school. And since I was the one that brought her to Lorenzo, I thought that she would be loyal to me-and she was. She was the foundation of my operation; where I moved the bulk of my product. Now she was dead and my being associated with her brought the cops to my door, and what’s worse was that Leon was there and now they suspected him. I had fucked up all the way around.

I looked at Leon, he looked worried and I had never seen him look that way. I knew he wasn’t worried about himself. He could get on a plane and head back to Jacksonville and never have to worry about the NYPD again. He was worried for me.

“Look, Nina. Maybe it’s time you think seriously about getting out of the game.”

“And do what?”

“Whatever you want to do. This ain’t your life you’re livin’; it’s Lorenzo’s life. It’s my life. I ain’t have no choices. This is what I was born and raised to do. What my daddy and my uncles have always done. I knew from the start that this life would end in one of two ways: That’s in jail or dead. Half my family is in jail, Nina. The rest gave they’re life to the game. That’s the way it is. But it ain’t got to be like that for you. You don’t have to do this, Nina. You been to college; got a degree. You’re still young, you’re pretty and you’re smart, Nina. You can do something with your life. I’ma say this one more time, Nina, then I’m done with it. Maybe it’s time you think seriously about getting out of the game. ’Cause I can guarantee you this, Kirk may not have no murder case on you, but if you stay in business, Sanchez will put a drug case on you and you’ll be in jail within a year.”

I didn’t want to hear that shit, but I knew he was right. “Okay, Leon, I get it.”

“Good,” Leon said and stood up. “I’m leaving in the morning. You let me know if I’m flyin’ alone.”

“Where’re you going now?”

“I’m going to see Angel. Why, you wanna come?”

“No,” I said quickly.

“Why you say it like that?”

“Angel makes me uncomfortable,” I said and walked Leon to the door.

“How does Angel make you uncomfortable?”

“Angel wants some pussy and I ain’t the one.”

“My sister does have a way with women.” Leon laughed. “Men too.”

“Whatever. You say hey to Angel for me, and call me tonight and I’ll let you know what I’m gonna do.”

After Leon left I thought about what he’d said and knew he was right. I mean, what was I doing? This was not the life I planned for myself. It took me five years, but I graduated from Hampton University with a degree in business administration. My plan after graduation was to have some fun hanging out with Teena and Shay for the summer, and then I’d get serious about getting a job in September. I had planned to work for a year and then go back for my master’s. I let all the things I had planned for myself after college, get away from me. I had been out of school for years and I hadn’t looked for a job or filled out an application to grad school. At first I got so caught up in Lorenzo and what he was doing, that I lost myself in being the baller’s woman. I loved Lorenzo and was happy to be anywhere he was, doing anything he was doing.

Then he went to jail, and instead of turning my life around and getting back to my plan, I let the money lead me to becoming a baller myself. I thought back to me, Shay, and Teena sitting in my living room, talking about getting into the game. And most importantly, avoiding Lorenzo’s fate.

“You were the flashy one. Drivin’ that BMW; spending all that money shoppin’. And Teena, you weren’t too much better. Both of y’all was caught up in that lifestyle.”

“Don’t hate, Shay,” I said.

“I’m not hatin’. Come on, Nina. You know me better then that. I’m just being real. Y’all two heifers was caught up in that ballers’ girl lifestyle, spending money like it was water. Now what you got to show for it? Government took everything but the clothes you had on your back.”

I was as low profile as it got. I sold the BMW and got a Honda Civic. I lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in a rundown building. Sure, it was laid out on the inside, but I didn’t let a lot of people in here. I cut out all that shopping for clothes. Shit, I didn’t wear half of them anyway. I kept to myself and didn’t go out much. The only time I left the apartment was to go to Jacksonville to get product or to sell it. With the exception of Cedric and Victor, I didn’t have a man; and you see how they turned out. This was not the way I planned to live my life. I didn’t have a life, and maybe it was time for that to change.

Leon’s words kept ringing in my mind. You need to shut down now and come South with me for a while. If he thought I needed to get out of town, then I was Florida bound. Later that night I went to tell Teena and Shay what I had decided.

Chapter Eleven

Rain Robinson

I knew who Baby John was: His name was John Tinselly. He used to roll with Kevin and Jay when they used to stickup joints. That’s how I met Jay; the three of them were at JR’s one night after they hit a big score, and were droppin’ paper buyin’ drinks like it wasn’t shit. When Jay saw me he dropped his drink; I don’t know if it was just because he was drunk, or because he never saw a body like mine.

He rushed over to me and tried to talk, but his game was so lame that I played him off. After that, he was at the club every night tryin’ to talk to me, until he’d wore me down and I finally went out with him. At the time I was just startin’ to roll, and the one thing I could say about him was, back then, Jay Easy had heart.

He got cracked over some stupid shit. We had just gotten through takin’ care of a problem, and when we split up, I gave him the guns ’cause they was both hot, and told him to get rid of them. But before he got to do it, decides he needs to stop and get some cigarettes. When he leaves the store, he gets pulled over. Cops searched the car and found the guns. The guns had bodies on them, so Jay Easy goes down for murder, but he gets out on a technicality. His lawyer said the search was an illegal search, ’cause the cops didn’t have no reason to stop him; so they ain’t have no reason to search the car. But when he got out, I was with Nick and I wasn’t interested in steppin’ down.

Right now, lookin’ back on that shit, I kinda wish I was a little nicer to Jay the night he came by the club after he got out-he just caught me at a bad time. I had smoked me a blunt, was sippin’ on some Patron, and I had watched a little porn and was waitin’ on Nick to come and fuck me silly, the way he always does. So when Jay got there, I was just tryin’ to get rid of him before Nick got there. “Look, Jay,” I said that night. “Me and you is done. Now you need to get the fuck up outta here before I call security to throw your ass out.”

That shit was wrong, but shit, Nick got there right after Jay left. Shit, I never thought that nigga would go out like that. Start robbin’ me and shit. That nigga ripped a hole in my program and put me out of business. I had to kill his ass. But when you kill one, I guess you gotta take out the whole damn family-and their friends-before the shit is done.

I had been ridin’ for hours and I still hadn’t found where Baby John was hidin’ out. I was just thinkin’ about goin’ home and gettin’ in the bed, when my cell rang. I looked at the display. Nick, damn. I turned off the music and let it ring a few times. Then I answered it like I was asleep. I just hoped that he wasn’t callin’ me from my apartment.

“Hello.”

“Did I wake you?” Nick asked.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay.”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m okay. When you gonna get here?” I asked so I’d know how much time I had.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it over there until late, so I’ll probably go home and see you in the morning.”

“No, baby. Come get in the bed wit’ me.”

“It’s gonna be late and I don’t wanna bother you. Besides, you need to rest and you know how you are: If I come over there you’re gonna wanna fuck.”

“Anything wrong with that?” I asked, playin’ my role and hopin’ he wouldn’t call my bluff.

“No, but like I said, you need your rest.”

“You’re probably right. You do what you gotta do and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Get some rest,” Nick said and ended the call.

I hated lyin’ to Nick like that, but I felt like I had to do it this way. Nick was about to kill me over the shit I was doin’ and his warning to me was still fresh in my mind. You don’t get another chance. I wasn’t about to give that nigga another reason to even think about killin’ me ’cause I was too much trouble.

Now that I knew I had all night, I wasn’t feelin’ tired no more. I was gonna find Baby John if that shit took all night. I stopped in a bar to get a drink and got lucky. There was Baby John, seated at a table near the back of the bar with two honeys. Knowing how my temper gets, I started to just walk up to him and start blastin’, but that’s how I got shot the last time. So I took a seat at the bar, ordered a drink, and watched him; waiting for my opportunity to kill him.

I sat there watching him drop money on drinks for them honeys for damn near two hours. Since he’d just gotten out, I figured it was the money Kevin had paid him to kill my brother. I wondered if they knew that Miles was still alive; and if they knew, would they try again. I thought that I should have told Miles to request to be put in segregation, until this was over; but it was too late for that now.

I guess his money ran out, ’cause the honeys got up and moved on the some other mutha fuckas in the bar. Baby John sat there for a while and then he got up and started staggerin’ toward the door. I finished my drink, paid my tab and followed him out.

The fact that he was wasted would only make my job easier, I thought as I watched him walked down the street, bumpin’ into people, poles, and cars. When he rounded the corner I picked up my pace. The street was dark and there was nobody around that I could see. Then he did me a favor. When Baby John fell, I was on top of him. “What’s up, John?”

He looked up and saw me standing over him with my pistol pointed at this head.

“Why you stab my brother?”

“I didn’t have nothin’ to do with that. I didn’t even know your brother.”

I shot him in the leg. “Don’t lie to me, John. I know it was you that done it. Just tell me why?”

“I didn’t kill your brother, Rain.”

“I know you didn’t kill him, John. I talked to him today. So don’t tell me that you didn’t have nothin’ to do wit’ it, ’cause I know you did it.” I shot him in the other leg this time. “Last chance. Why you stab my brother?” I asked and put the gun to his head.

“Kevin Easely paid me to kill him ’cause you killed Jay Easy.”

“You tell me where Kevin is and I might let your drunk-ass live.”

“He’s at a house on Carpenter Avenue, down 219^th Street. I’m not sure which house it is,” he said quickly and I took the gun away from his head.

“Who’s there with him?”

“I don’t know. I swear, Rain, I don’t know.”

Now that he had told what I needed to know, I raised my gun and pressed it against his temple. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna kill me.”

“I lied,” I said and put two in his head.

I knew exactly which house it was: It was his grandmother’s house. Jay Easy took me there when we first got together. I parked on 220^th Street and walked down the block. I took a minute to think about what I was gonna do. I could wait here and hope that he came out, or I could go in after him. You know which one I went wit’. I started walking toward the door, when I saw a woman walking toward the house with a bag of groceries. When she got to the door and started fumbling around for her keys, I moved on her. I rushed up behind her and put my hand over her mouth and my gun in her face.

“You can live or die, it’s up to you.” She nodded her head. “I’ma take my hand away. If you scream or try to run, I’ll kill you. Understand?” She nodded again and I took my hand away. “Kevin in there?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s in there with him?”

“His grandmother and two of his boys.”

“Where are they?”

“Kevin and his grandmother are upstairs. His boys are downstairs in the living room.”

“Unlock the door. We goin’ in nice and easy, hear me?”

She nodded her head and unlocked the door. She went inside and I followed close behind her with my gun to her head. When we got in the house and approached the living room, I could hear his boys talkin’. “What’s up, Kendra? You bring the brew?”

When I got to the opening I pushed her on the floor and opened fire. I shot the first one in the chest. When I turned on the other, he had his gun out and took a shot at me. I fired back and ducked behind the wall while he fired away. When he stopped I came out from behind the wall and hit him with three shots to the chest.

I reloaded my gun and started up the stairs to get Kevin. When I turned around, there was Kendra, with the gun shakin’ in her hand. “Don’t do it.”

She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. She missed by a mile; the recoil knocked her on her ass and she dropped the gun. She picked it up and pointed it at me again. “Don’t do it.” Her aim was no better. Not wantin’ to give her a third chance, ’cause she might have gotten lucky that time, I pointed my gun at her and shot her in the head.

I continued up the stairs slowly with my gun raised. When I got to the top, I checked the first room; nobody was in there. I closed the door and moved to the second room. There was his grandmother sittin’ by the window. I lowered my gun and turned to leave the room. When I did, grandma pulled a gun and started shootin’ at me. Her aim was better. I had to dive on the floor to keep from gettin’ shot. I hit the ground hard and I got off a shot. My chest felt like it had exploded. I looked at grandma; I’d hit her with a shot to the head. Damn-I didn’t want to kill her, but what choice did she leave me-but damn.

I picked myself up off the floor and looked down at my chest. I could see the blood seeping through. I walked out in the hallway and Kevin opened up on me right away. I ducked back in the door and fired back blindly. I knew the house, so I knew unless he was goin’ out a window, he had to get by me, and that wasn’t happenin’. I put another clip in my gun and took out the other one. I moved back into the hallway blastin’ with both guns. Kevin ran back in the room and I went in after him. When I went in after him, he was tryin’ to get out of the window. He had one leg out when he saw me enter. He raised his weapon but I was faster. I hit Kevin with two shots: one to the chest and the other in his head.

I left the house thinkin’ that I had shut this down. I had killed Kevin, his boys, some chick named Kendra ’cause she couldn’t shot, and his grandmother. I really felt bad about killin’ her-but damn.

By the time I made it to my car, I was bleeding pretty badly. I needed a doctor and I wasn’t about to go back to the hospital. There was only one place I could go and I just hoped I remembered how to get there, and that I could trust them to keep their mouths shut. It was almost three in the morning when I rang the bell. When nobody answered, I rang it again. It took a while, but somebody finally came to the door. The porch light came on.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Rain Robinson. I need your help, Perry.”

The day before, Nick had taken me out there for his friend Perry and his wife Glenda, to change my dressing. He opened the door and took me into the examining room they had in their house. Perry was unbuttoning my blouse when Glenda walked in. “Am I interrupting?” Glenda said and smiled. “You were supposed to be in bed resting, young lady.” Glenda sat down on the examining table next to me.

“What have you been doing?” Perry said when he looked at my wound.

“I fell.”

“Right,” he said.

“I’ll take care of this, Perry. Why don’t you go back to bed?”

Perry shook his head and left the room.

“He’s always a grumpy-ass when he first wakes up,” Glenda said and got what she needed to take care of me. When she was done, I apologized for getting them up and thanked her for taking care of me. “This time you need to get to bed and stay there.”

“I will, I promise. But I need a big favor.”

“I think I just did you a big favor,” Glenda said. I liked her.

“Yeah, I know, but you could, you know, like keep this between the three of us. I mean like not tell Nick that I showed up here bleedin’ at three in the morning.”

“You’re secret is safe with me. And I’ll make sure Perry doesn’t say anything either.”

“Thank you,” I said and she walked me out. I drove home and went straight to bed.

When I opened my eyes and sat up in bed, I called out for Nick, but he wasn’t there. With nothing else to do, I laid back down and turned on the TV. I channel surfed for a while and finally settled on the judge shows. My favorite was Divorce Court. I liked Lynn Toler, but thought that Madeline was better. Halfway through the show, Nick walked in. “How you feelin’?” he asked and sat down on the bed next to me.

“I’m a’ight,” I lied. I still felt kind of tired and my chest hurt.

“Good. Get dressed, we’re up,” Nick said and got up.

I reached for the gun I had under my pillow and got out of bed. “Where we goin’?”

“We’re goin’ to kill Ralph Watson.”

“That one of the niggas that robbed us?” I asked and got out of bed.

“Yeah. And hurry up before we miss him.”

Chapter Twelve

Kirk

I didn’t seem to be making any headway in this case. I really thought we were on to something when Sanchez and I rolled up on Leon Copeland at Nina Thomas’s apartment. But both of our sources have been telling us that Leon hasn’t been a player in this game in years. I really wasn’t all that surprised by that though. Leon and Mike Black were good friends those days, and he did seem to drop off the grid about the time that Black killed just about every other dealer in the area. Black made a deal with Chilly and setup what became know as the dead zone, where Black permitted nobody to sell drugs. Maybe Leon still respected the dead zone on the strength of his relationship with Black, so we had nothing. Then we caught a break.

I was at my desk, reviewing what little I had on the case, when an officer walked up. “Hey, Kirk, you know an asshole named Timothy Thompson?”

“I know a lot of assholes,” I said and keep reading my file.

“This one says he talked to you and Sanchez the other night.”

Now he had my attention. “What about him?”

“He got popped trying to sell to an undercover today. Instead of lawyerin’ up, he said he would only talk to you and Sanchez. You want to talk to him?”

“Shit, yeah.” I called Sanchez and told him to meet me down there.

When Sanchez got there, I filled him in and we went in. “I was startin’ to think y’all didn’t wanna talk to me,” Thompson said.

“What would make you think that?” Sanchez said and pulled up a chair next to him.

I grabbed a chair, pulled it up to his other side, and sat down. “We’re here; but now I wanna know what a small-timer like you could possibly wanna talk about?”

“I want outta here, that’s what I wanna talk about,” Thompson said.

“Tell me something I don’t know and I’ll consider it,” Sanchez said.

“The night Big K and them got shot, somebody got through our security.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean a cop.”

“I’m listening,” Sanchez said.

“The reason we stayed outta y’alls way is that we had lookouts everywhere. If a cop car or anything that even looked like an unmarked car came our way, we’d shut down until they was gone. But this mutha fucka rolled up and walked up on us, made his buy quietly, and walked off. But instead of leaving, he steps to Kenyatta. They beefed for a while and then he leaves.”

“How you know he was a cop? And if he was a cop, how come none of you assholes are in jail?”

“After he left, I asked Kenyatta what was up with that. She said he was a cop tryin’ to shake her down.”

“You get a good look at the guy?” I asked. “This cop.”

“I ain’t tryin’ to incriminate myself, but I was as close to him as I am to you right now.”

“What was he driving?” Sanchez asked.

“Midnight blue Camaro.” I looked at Sanchez and I could tell he knew something by the look on his face.

“Can you pick him out if you saw him again?” Sanchez asked.

“I saw him today when they busted me. I started to talk to him, but I figured he didn’t have no juice.” Thompson looked at Sanchez then he looked at me. “So can we do somethin’ here or do I need to call my lawyer?”

“I’ll see what we can do,” Sanchez said and bounced up. He headed for the door.

“What’s that mean?” Thompson wanted to know.

“It means you sit here and you don’t talk to anybody,” I said and followed Sanchez out of the room.

I knew that Sanchez knew exactly who Thompson was talking about and was on his way to go after him. The fact that he was in on an uncover operation meant that it was one of Sanchez’s men.

I had to hurry to catch up with him. “Slow down, Gene, and talk to me,” I said and Sanchez kept walking. “You know who he’s talkin’ about?”

“It’s one of my men: Nelson Brown. Drives a blue Camaro.”

“So where you going?”

“I’m going to tear him a new asshole, that’s where I’m going, Kirk.”

“Slow down, Gene, and let’s talk about this,” I said and got in front of him.

“What?”

“All we got now is the word of a scumbag drug dealer tryin’ to make a deal to get out and sell some more drugs. Let’s check this out a little and if he comes up dirty, I’ll hold him while you tear him a new asshole.”

Sanchez finally exhaled. “Okay.”

Sanchez and I discretely dug into Brown’s life; his finances and the luds from his phone, just like we would any other criminal. The picture that was being painted by the information we found, made one thing crystal clear: Brown was dirty. But I wanted more before we confronted him, so I suggested that we follow him. We lost him in traffic the first day, but the second, Brown led us right to what I was looking for.

“Get a picture,” I said and Sanchez got out his camera.

That next morning, Sanchez called Brown into his office. Before he got there, I made Sanchez promise to take it slow. “Don’t let that famous Latin temper of yours blow this.”

“I’m cool,” Sanchez said as Brown walked in.

“You wanted to see me, lieutenant?”

“Yeah, come in and close the door,” Sanchez said.

“Detective,” Brown said to acknowledge my presence in the room.

I just nodded my head and took another sip of my coffee.

“How’s the car running?”

“Like a dream, lieutenant. It’s worth every penny of that fat note I pay for it every month,” Brown said.

“Kids doing good in school?” Sanchez asked, and I was surprised that he was actually taking it slow. Normally, Gene was the kind of guy that would have called him a dirty cop and asked for his gun and shield as soon as Brown walked in the door.

“They’re doing great.”

“I remember when my kids were that age; wanting something all the time because the other kids had it. I used to have to tell them all the time that they didn’t know what their parents were doing to get all that stuff.”

“It is tough, but me and Kathy, we get by,” Brown said cautiously.

“I know it must be tough paying that fat car note and keeping three kids in private school,” Sanchez said and the look on Brown’s face told the story. “Mount Holy Oak, that place ain’t cheap.”

“What’s going on here, lieutenant?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Kenyatta Damson,” Sanchez said.

“The vic from the other night; what about her?”

“How much did you ask her for?” I asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brown said and squirmed in his chair.

“Well maybe you’d like to tell me what you were doing with Bryce Tyler, and what you had to talk about for an hour?” Sanchez said and I dropped the pictures of him and Bryce Tyler in front of him.

“I need your gun and your shield,” Sanchez said and held out his hand.

I guess Brown knew he was done and quietly gave it up. Then he started talking about a deal where he could walk out of this without going to jail. “The deal is that you give up every dirty cop in the building,” Sanchez said.

At that point, he asked to have a PBA rep present. When the rep got there, Brown told us what he was doing and then he rolled on no less then seventeen cops who were taking payoffs from the same drug dealers they were supposed to be arresting. “So what happened with Kenyatta Damson?”

“She’d been payin’ us off for years. She used to sell for Lorenzo Copeland, the one that killed McDill.”

“Was McDill dirty?” Sanchez asked.

“He got me started. That’s why he was fuckin’ with Copeland that day. He approached Copeland after we flipped Bryce Tyler, but Copeland was an arrogant fuck and wouldn’t play ball. After he went down, I found out that she was back up and running in the same spot, and I approached her. I told her that if she didn’t want to suffer the same fate as Copeland then she would pay.”

“What happened that night? Why’d you go see her?” Sanchez asked.

“I told her the price was going up,” Brown said.

“You fucks always get greedy,” I said in disgust.

“But she refused to pay.”

“That why you had her killed?” I asked.

“I didn’t know he was gonna kill her.”

“Who?”

“Bryce Tyler.” Brown said. “Anytime somebody didn’t want to pay, we’d send Bryce around and he’d convince them that it was in their best interest to pay.”

“What happened then? Dead dealers don’t pay,” I said.

“He said that it was personal.”

“That what you were talking about?”

“Yeah, I told him that he had fucked up and that he needed to lay low for a while ’cause you were putting pressure on us to close this one.”

“How do we find him?” Sanchez asked.

Chapter Thirteen

Mike Black

As Bobby drove to Nita Blue’s spot, I thought about Ms. West. Every time I saw her it was always my intention to seduce her, but somehow, each time we meet it turned into a discussion about business. She called me one night and invited me to her apartment. Ms. West said that she had something important to talk to me about. It didn’t matter what she wanted to talk about, I was going to talk her out of her clothes.

When I got there, Ms. West was dressed in a black Herve Leger armor trim dress, with a single strap across the shoulder and a string of pearls. She looked beautiful, but she always does, and I’ve come to expect nothing less from her.

That night Ms West told me that an ex-KGB operative with ties to the Izmaylovskaya mob named Oleg Mushnikov was trying to shake her down for twenty percent of her business. “How do you wanna come outta this?”

“With this guy off my back and me not owing you twenty percent of my business,” Jada said quietly. And just like that, the seduction of Jada West once again, got put on hold. I called and arranged a meeting with Oleg Mushnikov that same night and offered him a deal that in the long-term would be far more lucrative for him than Ms. West’s little pussy business.

It was kind of funny when you think about it. I am now business partners with Oleg Mushnikov in a joint venture to bring wind power to The Kola Peninsula in the Murmansk region in Russia, which should prove to be quite lucrative in the long run, but it was to keep Oleg from shaking Ms. West down for twenty percent of her business. Now, here we are about to scheme our way into shaking Nita Blue down for twenty percent of her little pussy business. Sometimes I don’t understand myself.

Ms. West and Nita Blue are in the same business, but where Ms. West is a madam with a stable of high rent escorts, Nita Blue is a pimp with a stable of seven streetwalkers. What one of Ms. West’s ladies earns in an hour would take Nita’s ladies all night to make.

If I was gonna shakedown somebody, it should be Jada West.

But I’m not.

I had other plans for the lovely and talented Ms. West. And that may or may not include fuckin’ her brains out.

Me and Jamaica were expanding our operation into the gambling market in Nassau; And the international tourist clientele that Jamaica had begun to attract to his spots, don’t seem to be willing to pay for the caliber of women that currently worked the trade in Nassau. Those women are run by Harry and Deidra Walker. In addition to the women they run, they also have a few gambling spots. Eventually, we’ll get around to taking over their business, but for the time being, my attention is focused on getting our gambling operation up and running.

Something that Jamaica said to me one night made me think of Ms. West and her skill set of recruiting and training women to be high-price hookers. “All we need now is some girls, and we take all their money,” Jamaica said. If Ms. West could recruit and train high-quality talent from around the world, I’m sure that there would definitely a market for that.

I would talk to Jamaica about that when I got back to the island. Right now, the issue was finding Skip Skinner and Bull Harris. That’s where Nita came in. She had ties to both Skip and Bull. Nita started out working the stroll for Bull. She was his only girl. He was a gorilla pimp and used to beat Nita’s ass almost daily. Skip felt sorry for Nita, so he used to keep Bull off of her when he was around. He was in the loan shark business and convinced Bull that there was more money to be made breakin’ legs than breakin’ Nita’s jaw, so Bull gave up the pimp game.

But by this time, Nita had turned Skip out; ’cause from what I hear, Nita had the bomb pussy. So Skip tries to square Nita up, but he couldn’t keep Nita off the stroll because she was a ho. She liked fuckin’ and she loved that money. Finally, Skip gives up on her, but by this time, Nita had a couple of women out turning tricks for her. Nita always did have mad game, and let’s just say, she had a way with women too.

So now Nita is makin’ money and it gets Bull’s attention. He feels like Nita was still his ho and that he has a right to some of that money. He finds Nita, beats her ass and takes her money. She goes crying to Skip. He offers to extend his protection to Nita, but somehow, she convinces that nigga that he don’t want any money. But Bull is obsessed with Nita, and every once and a while, he would hunt Nita down, beat her ass, and take the pussy and her money.

Now, back in those days, Andre was a drug dealer. He made his money off heroin and cocaine. To him, gambling, loan sharking, and prostitution, which he controlled, were all just sidelines; and he really didn’t pay much attention to that part of his business. That’s where I saw an opportunity. I found out that Nick and Jamaica were shakin’ down the number runners that they knew were skimmin’ money off Andre. I went to Andre and got him to let me take over that part of the business. “I guarantee that I will more than double your take in less than three months,” I told Andre and he went for it. Since I knew just about everybody that worked for was him was coming up short on the money, it was easy.

So I get to Nita Blue. Me and Freeze catch her one night at the spot she works out of; the same spot me and Bobby were on our way to now. I sit Nita down and stick my hand out. Nita says no. Freeze put a gun to her head. “You’re not understanding me, Nita. Those are my streets. That is my stroll your ho’s are walkin’. You wanna keep gettin’ that money, you gotta pay me for the privilege or your life ends now. Choose wisely.”

“You need to talk to Skip about that, Black,” Nita Blue said.

“What Skip got to do with my money?”

“You have this pretty nigga here take that gun from my head and I’ll tell you,” Nita Blue said. I motioned to Freeze to remove his gun and Nita Blue explained her arrangement with Skip. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“If you lyin’ to me, Nita, ain’t gonna be no talk. This pretty nigga will kill you the next time he sees you,” I said and left. I went straight to see Skip and he confirmed what Nita Blue had said. I looked at Freeze and he put his gun to Skip’s head. “How much money you costin’ me?”

“Huh?” Skip said.

“You lettin’ that bitch work my streets for free. How much money is that costin’ me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You better come up with a number fast,” I said and put my gun to the other side of his head.

“I don’t know-a couple of grand maybe,” Skip blurted out.

“That’s how much extra you need to give me for y’all’s dumb-ass arrangement.”

But that little soap opera didn’t stop there. There was still Bull to deal with. Every once and a while, for reasons even he says he can’t understand, he gets drunk and goes after Nita. He hunts Nita down, beats her ass, and takes the pussy and her money. So, Nita always has one of her girls following Bull. If he gets anywhere near Nita, they let her know and she lays low for a day until Bull calms down. That system has worked for Nita for the last three years, but I heard last month Bull finally caught her and made up for lost time. Crazy right?

When me and Bobby walked in the place, it seemed like all eyes were on us. “You see her?” Bobby asked.

“No,” I said and headed for the bar. “Remy, straight up.”

“Make it two,” Bobby said and looked around again. “A lotta pimp-lookin’ mutha fuckas in here.”

“You ain’t scared, are you?”

“Yeah, shakin’ in my pants,” Bobby laughed. “These niggas lookin’ at us like we marks.”

“Let ’em come, we haven’t killed anybody yet, today.” I looked around. “I haven’t been in here since the Nita told us that bullshittin’-ass story about her, Bull, and Skip.”

The bartender brought us our drinks and we shot them. I took one more look around and was gettin’ ready to get out of there, when I saw Nita Blue coming out of the back room.

“There she is,” I told Bobby and headed in that direction. Bobby was right behind me. A couple of young bucks got up to block my path.

“You want somethin’?”

“I want you to get outta my fuckin’ way,” I said, and Bobby put two guns in his face.

“Mike Black and Bobby Ray,” Nita Blue said. “I knew my ass was hurtin’ for some reason.” She walked up and tapped the young bucks on the shoulder and they sat down, but Bobby decided to keep his guns out. “You don’t want to fuck wit’ them two niggas. They old school; the original gangsters,” she laughed.

“Hello, Nita,” I said. “You got a minute to talk?”

“For you, Black, I got all the time in the world,” Nita led us to her table and sat down. I looked at Nita’s face. I could still see the effects of the beating she took. “What can I do for you, Black?”

“I’m lookin’ for Bull.”

“So am I.”

“I see why,” Bobby said.

“You always did think you was funny, but ain’t nobody here laughin’, Bobby. And don’t think that them guns scare me, either,” Nita Blue said definitely.

“Look, Nita, ain’t nobody come here to try and scareyou.”

“Then what you here for? You may be all dressed up in a suit now, Mike Black, but to me, you still the same Vicious Black that came up in here and held a gun to my head fifteen years ago.”

“You’re right. I am that same nigga. But it ain’t gotta be like that between us. I know you know where he is. So why don’t you go on and tell me and we’re outta here.”

“What you want with Bull?”

“I’m gonna do you a favor.”

“Only favor you can do for me is kill that nigga,” Nita Blue said.

“As soon as you tell us where he is,” Bobby said.

“Y’all gonna kill Bull? For what?”

“What do you care?” Bobby asked. “You want him dead, you tell us where he is.”

Nita looked at Bobby and then she smiled at me. “He must know you lookin for him,” Nita Blue said. “I need to make a call, okay,” she said and looked at Bobby.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Nita took out her phone and made a call. “Where you at?” We sat and waited while Nita listened. “How many he got with him?” she asked then hung up. “He’s hold up in a house in Queens. Got three niggas wit’ him.”

“The address, please,” Bobby said.

On the way to kill Bull, I thought about taking a deep breath and calling Monika. Having her along on a job like this would make the whole thing a lot easier. She would have a layout of the house and would use one of her high-tech toys to pick up the heat signatures of everybody in the house, and Jackie would be out in the van monitoring their movements. Monika would toss in a flash grenade and the sudden flash of light would distract them, and before they could react it would be over. Somehow I thought that would be easier than what we were about to do.

Bobby parked the car down the street from the house. “How you wanna do this?” Bobby asked as I got out and started walking toward the house.

“Same way we always do it.”

“Walk in and kill everybody. Good plan,” Bobby said and followed behind me. “Why don’t we just knock on the door and ask to speak to Bull?”

“That ain’t a bad idea. You knock on the door and I’ll go around back,” I said. “Since they know we’re looking for them, they’ll probably start shootin’ as soon as they see you.”

“I think we need another plan.”

“I’m not suggestin’ you just stand there and let them shoot you. Knock and move out of the way.”

“If it’s such a good plan, you knock and move, and I’ll go around back and wait for them to come runnin’ out,” Bobby said.

“Fine,” I said and watched Bobby go around back. I gave him a few minutes to get set before I walked up to the door. Before I could get close to the door, I heard a noise and knew I should get down. I dove to the ground and when I looked up, there was a big hole in the door from a shotgun blast. I heard shooting coming from the back of the house and wondered if Bobby was still glad he picked that spot.

I got up and ran in the house. The three of them were at the back door, shootin’ it out with Bobby. They didn’t see me coming. I fired at one of them and hit him in the back of the head. I took aim at another one and fired twice. Both shots hit him in his back. I heard loud footsteps coming down the stairs. The last man at the door turned and fired on me as I ran back down the hall. I got there in time to see Bull Harris running out the front door.

He moved pretty fast for a big mutha fucka, but before he could make it to his car, I shot him in the leg. Bull went down hard and rolled over. He fired a couple of shots at me and I hit the ground. Bull kept firing and I shot back and hit him in the arm, but he kept firing. I didn’t want to kill him yet. I wanted to know where I could find Skip before I killed him. Once his gun was empty, I got up and walked toward Bull. I put another clip in my gun. I didn’t hear anymore shooting coming from the back and hoped that Bobby had gotten his man.

Bull threw his gun at me and struggled to his feet. He tried to get in the car, but when I fired a couple of near-missed shots at the door, he changed his mind and decided begging for mercy was his best option. “Please don’t kill me, Black. I didn’t have nothing to do with what Bo and them was planning,” Bull pleaded.

I heard gunshots and turned quickly. I saw a man go down on the side of the house and Bobby walk up and stand over him. Bobby put two more in him to make sure he was gone and then walked toward me and Bull.

“Now, what were you sayin’?” I asked and put my gun to his head.

“Really, Black, I didn’t have nothin’ to do with it. When Bo told me that shit, I told him that I didn’t want shit to do with it.”

“Then why did you blow a hole in the door when I walked up?”

“That wasn’t me, Black. I was upstairs sleep when you got there. I woke up when I heard the shooting.”

Bobby leaned against the car next to Bull. “You know what, Bull,” he said. “I believe you.”

“You do?” I asked.

“Yeah, Mike, Bull is a smart man. He wouldn’t be involved in no dumb-ass shit like trying to kill me, you, and Nick; would you, Bull?”

“No, Bobby, you know me. I ain’t have shit to do with it,” Bull said and I eased my gun away from his head a little.

“What about Skip?” I asked. “I know Skip was all for it; wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Bull said. “Skip’s the one that came at me wit’ that shit. He said we could stand back, let Bo and Hank do the dirty work, and then we’d be golden. But I told him to count me out of that shit.”

“See, Mike,” Bobby said and put his arm around Bull. “It was just like I told you. Skip is the man we should be lookin’ for. Not my man Bull here. He’s always been loyal to us. Right, Bull?”

“Right.”

“All you need to do now is tell us where Skip is hidin’ out, and it will all be over for you,” Bobby said.

“He’s hold up at his lawyer’s house; a chick named Quovadda Cobb. She got a place on the Island in Massapequa, on Leonard drive. I don’t know the address, but it’s a brick house.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said and shot Bull in the head. “Now it’s over for you.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jada West

It was getting late in the evening and I had only two things on my mind. One was always on my mind. That was money. If there was one thing about me, it was that I was all about the money. It was in my blood. But when Mr. Black looks at me with those piercing eyes, it has the same effect as it did the first time. My mind began to drift to thoughts of him staring into my eyes while he was deep inside me, but I caught myself. I had to remind myself that I had important business to discuss with Mr. Black. When my issues were behind me, then I could think about indulging my passion to seduce him.

I picked the phone and dialed a number. “Cuisine, how my I help you?” the woman answered.

“I would like to speak with Mike Black if he’s available.” I said hoping for the best. If he were available, I would arrange to get a suite at the Peninsula Hotel and invite him over for cocktails.

“Mr. Black isn’t in this evening,” she replied. “Is there anybody else that can help you?”

“Unfortunately no, there really isn’t,” I said and hung up the phone. There was only one man that I wanted and nobody else would do. I got up and walked over to the window and wondered why that man doesn’t have a cell phone. Then I remembered that he called me that night to say that he was on his way. I rushed back to the phone and scrolled through the call log until I saw a number that I didn’t recognize. I pressed talk, and once again hoped for the best. As the phone rang, I thought about what I had said to him when he left here that night. “Thank you for agreeing to help me,” I said and kissed Black on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Just wanted to see how it felt.”

“And?”

I opened the door. “We’ll talk about that when you tell me what I owe you.”

“Fair enough,” Mr. Black said and walked out of the apartment. What I should have done was put my arms around him and kissed his lips, instead the little peck on the cheek I offered up. Maybe then he’d be calling me, instead of me sitting here trying to hunt him down.

“Hello,” a man finally answered, but it wasn’t Mr. Black.

“Yes, my name is Jada West and I am trying to get in touch with Mike Black,” I began.

“Yes, Ms. West, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“My name is Victor. I was the gentlemen that was with Black the other night when he came to your apartment,” he said and I was overjoyed that at least I was on the right track.

“Is Mr. Black available?”

“I’m not with him right now,” Victor said, and just that quickly I went from overjoyed to unhappy. “But I could take a message for him.”

“Would you?”

“No problem.”

“If you would ask Mr. Black to give me a call this evening at his convenience, I would be most appreciative.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Please assure him that everything is fine. I would just like to speak with him,” I said and Victor ended the call promising to deliver my message. After I hung up, I wondered if I should have said that it was important, and that I needed him right way.

Maybe I needed to use a more direct approach on Mr. Black. At each of our previous encounters we flirted with one another, but if I could just tell him to come by so we could have sex.

Just then, the door flew opened and Jenna rushed in. “Jada, oh my God, Jada,” she said and came to where I was sitting. It was obvious that she had been crying.

“Okay, Jenna. Calm down and tell me what’s wrong?”

Jenna sat down on the couch next to me and my first thought was that Oleg Mushnikov was back, or one of his goons had attacked her. I looked at her face and the gown she was wearing, and both still looked as good as they did when she walked out four hours ago-except for the tears.

“He’s dead,” Jenna said.

“Who’s dead?”

“The client,” Jenna said trying to pull herself together.

“The client?” I shouted. “Patrick?” Patrick Owens was one of my better clients. He was a closeted gay man who worked at a company that frowned that on type of lifestyle. So to keep his cover, anytime his company had a function, Patrick would hire one of my ladies to attend the function with him. No sex involved; just to be seen with him. Since it would be an easy night this evening, I sent Jenna.

The event was to be held in the Starlight Roof at the Waldorf Astoria. This legendary Art Deco landmark occupies an entire city block on fashionable Park Avenue. The venue features floor-to-ceiling windows presenting sweeping views of New York City and Park Avenue, eighteen stories below. I selected an Yves Saint Laurent draped silk satin dress that wraps and ties in a soft bow at the waist, with a crossover V neckline, cap sleeves, wide ties at waist, and a draped contour hem; Yves Saint Laurent tribute patent leather platform sandals with buckled T-strap, and an Alexander McQueen whipsnake design with a Swarovski-embellished leather glove clutch for her to wear. Patrick was her first client and now she was sitting there telling me that he was dead.

“Okay, Jenna, start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened.”

“The event was at the Waldorf,” Jenna said excitedly.

“I know that, Jenna, I sent you. What happened?”

“He had an Astor suite there. When the event was over, he didn’t want me to leave right away because of how it would look. So he asked me to come up to the room and stay with him for about an hour.”

“Sensible.”

“I know. It was good thing that we did because just as we got to the room, one of the people that he works with and his wife got off the elevator. He grabbed me and pretended to kiss me until they went in their room.”

“Smart move on his part,” I said and hoped she would get to the part about him being dead soon, though I did ask her to start at the beginning.

“As soon as we got in the room, he went in the bathroom and shut the door. I sat down and watched TV. After about an hour I was getting ready to leave, so I knocked on the door. When he didn’t answer I opened the door. He was sitting on the toilet with his belt around his arm and a needle stuck in his arm. I think he OD’d.”

“Are you sure he was dead?”

“I shook him a few times and he didn’t move,” Jenna said.

“He may or may not be dead; he might have just been in a real heavy nod.”

“I didn’t check for a pulse, I just got outta there.”

“It’s okay, Jenna. Whether he’s dead or not, in either case, it will be all right. If he’s dead, tomorrow morning housekeeping will find him and that will be that. You didn’t take any pictures with him, did you?”

“No, not that I know of; but I left there so fast, I left my clutch bag in the room.”

“That’s not good,” I said and immediately found his cell number and tried to reach him. We needed to get that clutch because, other than the obvious reason, the clutch cost me $1,920.00. “He’s not answering.”

Jenna dropped her head. “Oh.”

“What?”

She reached in her cleavage and pulled out the room key. “After the people went in the room, he was just standing there, so I took the key from him and opened the door.”

I laughed. “And that’s where you put it?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah.”

“I guess we’re going to the Waldorf,” I said. And after a quick change of clothes: Dolce amp; Gabbana stretch wool suit with a notched collar, peak lapels, three flap pockets, and one slash pocket; Dolce amp; Gabbana suede covered pumps with a 5-inch heel, and a hidden 1-inch platform, we were on our way.

On the way there, I thought about drugs and Tangela House came to mind. After I saw Congressman Cantifield at Martin Marshall’s party, his assistant called me and I made arrangements to meet the congressman for lunch. Over lobster thermador and cocktails, I assured the congressman that I would be able to service all of his needs, and provide him with those services with the utmost discretion. The congressman agreed and we shook hands on our exclusive arrangement.

Then he started going on and on about how beautiful and charming Tangela was at Marshall’s party, and how he simply had to have her. “If she’s as good as she appears, my exclusive arrangement may just be for her, all the time.” Then he laughed. “Well almost all the time.”

Knowing that she had issues, I tried to convince him that she wasn’t quite the one, but he insisted. So against my better judgment and after a very long lecture: a warning not to blow it, I sent Tangela out on an appointment with my most important client. Thank goodness everything worked out fine that evening. But she was late for her next appointment and missed the one after that altogether.

When she finally resurfaced the next day, I met her for dinner at Bellavitae: an Italian restaurant on Minetta Lane, between 6^th Avenue and MacDougal Street. Over dinner, which, by the way, she merely picked at, Tangela explained why she had missed her appointment the night before.

“I can’t use you, Tangela, if I can’t depend on you,” I told her when she finished her fantastic story.

“I’m sorry, Jada. It won’t happen again,” Tangela promised and I signaled for the waiter.

“Check, please.” Once I paid the check I stood up. “I know it won’t happen again,” I said and walked out of Bellavitae. I heard that she hooked back up with Creme, and she got her a job dancing at whatever club she was working at.

It was after one in the morning when our cab arrived at the Waldorf. We took the elevator up the Patrick’s suite and approached the room. I took the key from Jenna and opened the door. She rushed in the room and grabbed the clutch, which was still on the coffee table. Jenna was on her way back to the door, but I had to have a look in the bathroom before I left. I opened the door slowly and peeked in. “Oh, excuse me,” I said and quickly closed the door. “Let’s go, Jenna.”

“Is he still there?”

“Oh, he’s in there. But he is far from dead,” I said as I walked toward the door, feeling a little a bit embarrassed about walking in on Patrick and his friend.

As I paid the driver and got out of the cab in front of my building, I took a minute to think about the fact that Mr. Black hadn’t returned my call. And even if he had, I would once again have to place him on the back burner to take care of business. As Jenna and I walked toward the elevator, I wondered if Mr. Black had even gotten my message. Was he in the arms of another woman?

Jealousy?

Get a grip on yourself, Jada.

Chapter Fifteen

Nina Thomas

Leon went back to Jacksonville and I lied and told him that I was right behind him. I had packed up all of the stuff that I was going to take with me, and was going to have it shipped to Leon’s house. At first, my excuse was that I still had five keys that I needed to sell before I left. It wasn’t like I needed the money; I had over a quarter of a million dollars saved; I was just being a greedy bitch. Leon ended that when he said that he would buy them back for what I paid. Then my excuse became that I had to spend some time with my girls before I left.

Since it was going to be my last night in the city, I met Teena and Shay at Jimmy’s. We planned to get sloppy drunk that night. They were both surprised when I told them that I was done with the game and was moving to Jacksonville. After she got over the shock, Shay seemed to be happy for me, but not Teena. She wasn’t tryin’ to hear it. “What you mean you done, bitch? You can’t quit,” she said.

“Why not? We need to get out before the game turns on us,” I said.

“Nina’s right, Teena. We had some fun, made some money, and y’all killed somebody,” she added softly. “Now it’s time to let that shit go.”

“Okay, just tell me why you think you need to get out?” Teena asked.

“It’s gettin’ hot. And on top of that, we moved the majority of our product through Kenyatta.”

“We can find somebody else to run a spot for us,” Teena said.

“And where are we gonna get product from? I asked.

“Leon ain’t the only mutha fucka that got product. Just because that nigga wanna run scared, that don’t mean we need to quit.”

“He ain’t running scared, Teena. He’s just looking out for me, that’s all,” I said and Teena rolled her eyes. “He just made me see that I don’t have to live the way I’m living.”

“How you livin’ that’s so bad? ’Cause from where I’m sittin’, you livin’ pretty large.”

“You think so?” I asked and thought about all the things I told myself. “Well let’s talk about how I’m livin’ large like you say. I’m drivin’ an old Honda Civic and I lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment in a rundown building.”

“What you talkin’ ’bout, Nina? Your crib is laid.”

“True, but I don’t let nobody in there but y’all, ’cause I don’t have any other friends.”

“What other friends you need but us?” Teena asked.

“She’s got you there, Nina. Friends are overrated,” Shay added and we drank to that.

“I cut out all that shopping for clothes I used to do, mainly because I didn’t wear half of them anyway, because I don’t go anywhere. The only time I leave the apartment is to go to Jacksonville to get product, or when somebody calls talking about real money. I don’t have a man.”

“They are definitely overrated,” Shay said and laughed. “Believe me, I got one.”

“But you got one, Shay.” I looked at Teena. “And so do you.”

“Yeah, but that nigga ain’t good for nothin’ but some dick,” Teena said.

“My point is still the same. This is not the way I planned to live my life.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

“Just because I’m done, don’t mean y’all gotta get out. I’m just doing what’s right for me. Like you said, you can get product from somebody else and find somebody to run a spot for you,” I said.

“No, Nina,” Shay said. “If you’re done, I am too. Besides, Gary’s been on me to give it up. He said we can move to a better house and live comfortable on what he makes at the dealership.”

“So, not only are you out, you gonna escape to the burbs?”

“I gotta think about my kids, Teena. Gary wants them to go to better schools,” Shay said.

“What about me?” Teena asked.

“What about you?” Shay asked.

“I ain’t got no man to move out to the suburbs with and I ain’t got no school degree. What the fuck am I gonna do? You selfish bitches thought about that shit?”

“Why don’t you come with me, Teena?”

“And do what?”

“I know this woman that owns a boutique and she’s thinking about retiring. When I got there, I was gonna talk to her about buying her out. You and I could be partners,” I said, thinking that it would be great to have one of my best friends down there with me.

“I’d be bored to death sittin’ around a store all fuckin’ day. No thanks.”

“Well the offer is out there,” I said.

“Being bored is better than the alternative,” Shay said.

“What’s the alternative?” Teena asked.

“In jail or dead,” Shay said.

The debate, which wasn’t really a debate, raged on as we tried to convince Teena that there was life after drug dealing. Eventually, I just went home and went to bed. I was going to miss them.

We agreed that we would meet that night at Jimmy’s, and me and Teena were sitting there having a drink waiting for Shay to get there, when Jay came to the table and sat down at the table next to me. “What’s up, ladies. I know this is a private party, but I just wanted to come by and say good-bye to you, Nina. I’m gonna miss you,” Jay said and hugged me.

“Thank you, Jay. I’m gonna miss you too.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Jay said and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m gonna go on and get outta here.” He started to get up. “Oh, yeah, y’all know the cops is lookin’ for Bryce, right?”

“I didn’t even know that backstabbin’ mutha fucka was back in the city,” I said. “What they want him for?”

“Damn. I thought y’all knew.”

“Thought we knew what?” Teena asked.

“He the one that killed Kenyatta.”

“You bullshittin’?” Teena question.

“No. That’s what the buzz is,” Jay said. “I thought y’all knew.”

“No, Jay, we didn’t know that,” I said.

“We didn’t know what?”

I looked up and there was Shay, standing in front of the table, wearing a dress and pumps-Shay never wears dresses.

“Damn,” Jay said.

“What?” Shay asked.

“You, bitch. What’s up wit’ you in a dress?” Teena said.

“Damn,” Jay said again.

“Close your mouth before you start drooling, Jay,” I said and patted him on the shoulder.

“Damn, you got some big-ass legs, Shay,” Jay said.

“I’m gonna assume you meant that as compliment.”

Jay got up when he saw his woman making her way toward us. “Believe me, it was. You should bust out like that more often. Anyway, Nina, you take care of yourself,” he said and walked off.

“So what’s up with you in a dress, Shay?”

“I just felt like wearin’ a dress. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” she said and looked around for a waitress. “So what we didn’t know?”

“Bryce killed Kenyatta,” Teena said.

“No.”

“That’s what Jay just told us; said the cops is looking for him,” I told her.

“I forgot to tell y’all, but I saw him the other day,” Shay said.

“What was he talkin’ ’bout?” Teena wanted to know.

“Nothing. Just talkin’ shit about how fine I was lookin’ and how he always thought I was fine, and that he should have got with me before I got married. You know, his usual bullshit. Ain’t that some shit? That nigga was smilin’ in my face and he killed Kenyatta.”

“That’s the kind of snake-ass, backstabbin’, bitch-ass nigga he is,” I said. I hated Bryce and this just gave me one more reason to hate his ass. I tried not to let it get me too upset though. This was my last night with my girls and I wasn’t gonna let my hatred for Bryce Tyler ruin it for us. We spent the rest of the night drinking, eating chicken wings, and reminiscing about all the good times we had together. We left Jimmy’s with the intention of rolling by Teena’s to smoke a blunt, but all that changed when I walked outside and saw Bryce walking across the street from Jimmy’s.

“There that snake-ass bitch go,” Teena said.

“I see him. You got your gun, Teena?”

“What you gonna do, Nina?” Shay asked as Teena got her gun out.

“Give it to me,” I demanded.

“What you gonna do, Nina?” Shay asked again.

Teena handed me the gun and I put one in the chamber. “What somebody should have done a long time ago,” I said and started across the street. Teena was right beside me.

“No,” Shay said.

I looked back at her. “Go get the car, Shay.”

While Shay hurried off to get the car, me and Teena walked up on Bryce. I hid in a doorway and Teena called out to Bryce and tried to get him to come toward me. If that didn’t work, I was just gonna start shooting and hope every bullet found its mark.

It worked.

Bryce stopped and came back toward Teena. As soon as he was close enough, I stepped out and placed the gun to the back of his head. Teena took his gun just as Shay pulled up in the car. I walked Bryce to the car and we got in. “Where y’all takin’ me?” the bitch wanted to know.

“To the killin’ floor,” I said.

Shay must have known exactly what I was talking about, because she drove straight to Kenyatta’s old spot. When we got there, we walked Bryce in and took him to the same apartment that we killed Shantia Lewis in. Teena pulled the police tape from the door and went in.

As soon as we were inside, Bryce turned around quickly and tried to get the gun from me. While we wrestled for it, Shay tried to rush Bryce. He kicked her and she fell. Bryce got the gun away from me. He punched me in the face and pushed me to the floor. Teena came running at him and he shot her. I heard Teena scream and she dropped her gun. When I looked I saw Teena on the floor and I went to get her gun. Shay got up and went at Bryce, but he grabbed Shay around the neck and held the gun to her head. “Get back, Nina, or I’ll put a hole in her head,” Bryce said and I stopped. “Now! Right over there.”

I backed away and moved to where Teena was lying on the floor. “Teena, you okay?” I asked and shook her, but she didn’t answer. “Teena!” I shook her again and started to cry. I yelled her name over and over, but it was too late-Teena was dead.

I looked at Shay. Bryce pressed the barrel against her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. He began running his hand over Shay’s breasts and squeezing them. He pulled up her dress and was feeling her ass and legs.

Shay jerked when he stuck his hand in her panties and reached between her legs. “You move again, Shay, and I’ll kill you.” Bryce looked at me. “And that goes for you, too, Nina. You move and I’ll kill her,” Bryce said and ripped off her panties. Shay tried to get away, but he pulled her back and began unbuckling his pants.

He pushed Shay over and put the gun to the back of her head. I couldn’t believe that he was going to rape her right in front of me. He forced himself inside her and Shay screamed. “Shut up!”

Shay closed her eyes and I just hoped that it would be over for her soon; and I wished that I had never gotten us into this. Teena was dead and Shay was being raped because I wanted to kill Bryce so badly. I should have shot him right there on the street, and now I wished I had.

When suddenly Bryce began hitting Shay in the head with the gun. I rolled over quickly and went for the gun. I picked up the gun and held it to his head. “Hit her again and I’ll blow your head off.”

Bryce stopped punching and dropped the gun. Shay snatched the gun from my hand. “Mutha fucka!” she screamed and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him in the chest and Bryce went down. Shay stood over him and I watched as Shay fired three more shots in him.

“You okay?” I asked.

Shay nodded her head and we walked over to Teena’s body. “We can’t leave her here,” Shay said, and our tears began to flow. We picked up her body and carried it to the car. As we drove away, I couldn’t stop thinking that sometimes, the cost of vengeance is too high.

Chapter Sixteen

Mike Black

“It’s Victor,” Bobby said and handed me the phone.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I just got a call from Jada West,” Victor said and I sat up a little straighter.

“What did Ms. West say?” I asked and Bobby cut his eyes at me.

“She wants you to call her whenever you have time. She said to assure you that it’s nothing important,” Victor said.

“Thanks,” I said and ended the call. I handed Bobby back his phone.

“So what’s up with you and the happy hooker?”

“Nothing. She just wants to talk to me.”

Bobby didn’t say anything; he just kept looking in my direction as he drove.

“What?”

“If you say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.”

“Then why are you staring at me?”

“I’m just waitin’ to see if you’re gonna tell me the truth,” Bobby said and finally looked where he was driving.

“What truth?”

“Nothing, Mike. So when do I get to meet Ms. West? Or are you keeping her away from me for a reason?”

“I tried to get you to ride with me last time I went over there. You told me to take Victor.” I looked at Bobby. “Okay, I am interested in her. But what I’m more interested in, is her recruitin’ a better class of women to work for Jamaica in Nassau.”

“I knew it was something,” Bobby said and his phone rang. He looked at the display and smiled. “Hey, baby. I was just. .” he began, and then his expression changed. “What? Slow down, baby.”

Whatever was being said wasn’t good.

“Okay, okay, don’t cry, Barbara. Just put your mother on the phone,” Bobby said and made a U-turn that almost caused an accident. Barbara was his oldest daughter. She was eleven years old and very much daddies little girl. “No, no, don’t hang up. Give your mother the phone!” he practically shouted, and then threw the phone down and stepped on the gas.

“What’s wrong, Bobby?”

“Pam is leaving and she’s taking my kids.”

I believed, and at the same time couldn’t believe, what I was hearing. Pam was leaving. I know the last time I talked to her she didn’t sound good. “I’m just sick and tired of his bitches callin’ the house. I can’t go through this again, Mike,” Pam said to me the last time we talked.

“I understand, Pam. And you shouldn’t have to. But Bobby told me it was just a misunderstanding. He didn’t even know that woman like that.”

“That’s the same bullshit he told me,” Pam said calmly; in a voice that I hadn’t heard since the night she killed Cat and Melinda. “And if that’s the case, why does this bitch keep calling here? I can’t go through this again, Mike.”

“I know, Pam,” I said, and I knew she was gonna do something, but I didn’t think she would leave him and take the kids.

“What did Barbara say?” I asked as Bobby weaved through traffic.

“She said that Pam came in her room and just started packing her clothes, and said they were goin’ on a little trip. When she asked her where they were goin’, Pam told her that she was leavin’ me,” Bobby said, almost causing another accident getting on the New England Thruway.

When the speedometer hit ninety, I thought about telling Bobby to slow down, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I thought that I should say something to him, but all I could think of was that he should have seen this coming. They both should. Bobby’s involvement with other women and Pam’s refusal to have sex with him was the only place this was going. Since that wouldn’t be a very comforting thing to say, I kept quiet and hoped that he wouldn’t kill us trying to make it out there before they left.

Bobby turned on his street and sped toward the house. He pushed the button to open the garage door and Pam’s car was gone. Bobby brought the car to a screeching stop, jumped out, and ran inside. I followed him in and went straight down to the basement. I got a big glass and filled it with Remy for Bobby, then poured myself a drink and went and sat down. I knew when he hung up the phone that she wouldn’t be here when we got here.

Once Bobby searched the house, he came downstairs. “Thanks,” he said and turned up the glass.

“Thought you’d need it.”

“Right,” Bobby said and poured another one. Then he walked over and filled mine. He sat down.

“You wanna go see if we can find her?”

“Yeah. But we need to find Skip and be done with that first. I know Pam; she probably just went to her sister’s house. She’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You sure? ’Cause I could call Victor or get Nick to ride with me on this one. You need to see about your wife,” I said.

“What I just say? She’ll be all right. Now let’s go find this nigga,” Bobby said, and we finished our drinks and left the house.

It was after one in the morning when we arrived at Leonard Drive in Massapequa, at the home of Defense Attorney Quovadda Cobb. Finding the house was easy. Quovadda was a member of some kind of lady lawyer club that Wanda belonged to. I woke Wanda up and she gave us the address.

I had met Quovadda once before at one of Martin Marshall’s parties. I smiled a little when I remembered that the highlight of that evening was dancing with Ms West. If Wanda hadn’t dragged me away from there to go to another meeting, I would have spent some more time with the lovely lady, and found out if she was as good as she looks. And Ms. West always looks extraordinary. But since I was planning on doing business with her someday, maybe it was for the best.

I looked at Bobby. I could tell that he was still on fire about the stunt that Pam had pulled. “Maybe you should wait here,” I said and got out of the car. The last thing I wanted was for his anger at Pam and his concern for his children to cloud his judgment.

Bobby got out of the car and followed me to the door. “I’m all right, Mike. Let’s get this over with,” he said and took out his gun.

I didn’t argue with him ’cause I knew it would do no good. There was a light on in the front of the house, so I rang the bell. It didn’t take long for the door to open; which surprised me since it was after one in the morning. Quovadda opened the door and looked very surprised to see us. I grabbed her and pulled her outside. Bobby put his hand over her mouth and his gun to her temple.

“Hello, Quovadda. If you scream or try to run, he’ll kill you, understand?”

Quovadda’s eyes were wide open and she nodded her head.

“Good,” I said, and Bobby took his hand away from her mouth. “I’m lookin’ for Skip Skinner. I hear that he’s hidin’ inside.”

“He was here, but he left,” Quovadda said quietly.

“Where’d he go?” Bobby said.

“I don’t know.”

I opened the door and Bobby pushed Quovadda inside. “You can search the house, Black; he isn’t here,” Quovadda said and I took out my gun.

While Bobby searched the house, I sat and talked law with Quovadda. Wanda told me that she was good people, and that she was the type of person who would do anything for her friends. That’s probably what made her a good attorney; one who provided her clients with an impassioned defense. “I’m curious, Quovadda, what’s a big-time lawyer like you doin’ with Skip?”

“He was one of my first clients.”

“No, Quovadda, it’s more than that. You mean enough to him that he would hide out at your house.”

“Honestly?”

“I like honesty.”

“I’ve been holding some money for him and he came to get it,” Quovadda said, and I was amazed at how calm and poised she was. At a time like this, with a gun pointed at her, most people would be on the brink of tears.

“His getaway money,” I said.

“And since you’re here, I going to assume that it is you he’s trying to get away from,” Quovadda said.

“You would be correct,” I said as Bobby returned from searching the house.

He immediately returned his gun to Quovadda’s head and grabbed her by the throat. “Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know,” Quovadda managed.

“You don’t know or you can’t say?” I asked and Quovadda looked confused. “Let her go, Bobby.” He let go of her neck and I sat down next to her. “I’m going to kill Skip tonight. You know that, right?”

“I got that impression.”

“When I do, I’d like to hire you to defend me for his murder,” I said and Quovadda smiled. “I could double your usual fee. Will you take me as a client? Of course you would have to drop Skip as a client first.”

Quovadda understood that if I was going to kill Skip, I would have to kill her too. But if she was my attorney, she would be bound by attorney-client privilege.

“How do I know that after you retain my services and you kill Skip, you won’t come back here and kill me too?”

“You have my word,” I said and Quovadda looked at Bobby. “And his too?”

Quovadda was smart. After agreeing to my terms, she asked permission to go to her office and she drafted and had us sign an agreement retaining her services. Then she faxed it to her Manhattan office. Once the fax was sent, Quovadda looked at me. “Skip is in my boathouse at the pier.”

As we walked away from Quovadda’s house, Bobby asked a logical question. “When we’re done with Skip, are we gonna come back and kill her?”

“No. Quovadda’s a good lawyer, and we can never have too many good lawyers.”

When we got to Quovadda’s boathouse, we found it was small with one door going in and one window. “I’m really not in any mood to rush that door, Mike. And I don’t think you are either,” Bobby said.

“Any ideas?”

“Be right back,” Bobby said and walked off. I watched as Bobby walked slowly down the pier, looking in each of the boats. While I waited, I looked out at the ocean. Just being there on the water made me long to be back in Nassau with my girls.

Then Jada West eased back into my mind. What to do about Jada West? There was something about her that I just couldn’t shake. Bobby came back carrying a gas can, and I knew what he had in mind. “Any gas in it?”

“Enough,” he said; and as quietly as he could, he walked around the boathouse and poured out the gas. When the can was empty, Bobby lit the trail on fire and walked away. “If he’s in there, he’ll be out in a minute.”

We waited as the boathouse caught on fire. After awhile I heard somebody scream “OH, SHIT!” and the door flew open. Skip came running out with his clothes on fire. He was so busy trying to put it out that he didn’t notice me and Bobby walk up on him.

“Drop and roll,” Bobby said as Skip finally killed the fire.

“Black.”

“Good-bye, Skip,” I said and put two in his chest. Bobby stood over him and added two more to the head. I went and got a fire extinguisher from the boat nearby, and put out the fire in the house while Bobby tossed Skip’s body in the water.

Chapter Seventeen

Jada West

I slept later than usual the day after our late-night trip to the Waldorf. It was well after two in the afternoon when I finally opened my eyes. Shortly after that, my private line began ringing. “Good Afternoon,” I answered in my professional voice, but was still a little sleepy.

“Good afternoon, Ms. West.”

Just the sound of that voice dancing in my ear brought me to full conscieneness right away. “Well, hello, Mr. Black. I was wondering if you had gotten my message.”

“I did; and I’m sorry that I’m just getting back to you now. I had a very busy night last night.”

“No need to apologize. I had a busy night myself. Although I’m sure your night was probably more eventful than mine, I had some things that I needed to handle and I’m just waking up.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Oh, no. And even if you had, it would be a pleasure to hear from you anyway,” I said and laughed a little. “Anyway. I was wondering, if you didn’t have any plans of course, if you were free to join me for dinner this evening?” I asked and hoped that he would say yes.

“As a matter of fact, I was going to fly to Nassau this evening.”

“I see,” I said and all the excitement and anticipation eased out of my body.

“But I could catch a later flight, Ms. West.”

Good, that’s more what I wanted to hear, I thought instead of saying. “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble,” I said graciously.

“No trouble at all, Ms. West. I would be honored to have dinner with you. Just tell me where and what time, and I’ll make arrangements.”

“Excellent,” I said and tried, but failed, not to sound too excited. “Are you familiar with Bouley on Duane Street?”

“No, Ms. West.”

“It’s David Bouley’s French restaurant in Tribeca.”

“I haven’t eaten there before.”

“Bouley’s offers modern French cuisine with world influences in a very intimate setting. It’s been awhile since I’ve been there, but the food and ambience are excellent.”

“I’ve heard good things about Bouley’s, Ms. West. And I’m always interested in trying someplace new.”

“It would be my pleasure to introduce you to something new. Shall we say six; or is that too late for you?”

“Not at all. I will see you at six then,” he said and ended the call.

I rolled over in bed and immediately began thinking about what to wear. I sat up and looked in the mirror at my hair. I picked up the phone and called Rewa, my stylist, and after more pleading than usual, she agreed to come right over and do something special with my hair.

I got out of bed and walked in my closet. Of course I wanted to look nice for Mr. Black, but I wanted to make a statement that he would think about on his flight to the islands, and remember until the next time he saw me. Who was I kidding? I wanted to wear something that would make him cancel his flight until the next afternoon.

The first thing I choose was a Zac Posen lace and tulle, scoopneck dress with lace overlay across the bust and waist and lace skirt. But I thought all that lace and these breasts might be too revealing for dinner at Bouley.

My second choice was a Carolina Herrera pinstriped sheath with an inviting V neckline, pleated cap sleeves tacked in back, with a contrast inset waistband and diamond beaded detailing. But that was too conservative and wasn’t going to make the forceful statement I wanted for the evening.

I looked at my Versace faux leather panel dress, short with the jewel neckline, and smooth sleeves with banded cuffs. I liked that outfit because of the way it clinged to my body; but I like wearing it with boots and I wanted to show my legs.

I looked at the clock and knew that there wasn’t enough time for me to go shop for the perfect ensemble to entertain Mr. Black. And besides, Rewa would be here within the hour. The right outfit was in this closet, all I had to do was find it and settle on it.

I finally settled on a Dior silk crepe belted dress. A sophisticated, off-the-shoulder design with bow ties, belted waist, and button front details; straight neckline and center rear slit. Jimmy Choo marble stilettos covered in peek-a-boo mesh and lustrous suede. I chose the Dior because its off-the-shoulder design showed off my breasts without being too revealing like the Zac Posen lace or the Versace, but it hugged my curves. And most importantly, it was black, and Mr. Black seems to love it when I wear black for him.

While Rewa did my hair I wondered why I didn’t just invite him over here for cocktails, when he said he had a flight to catch. Especially since my desire was to get him here so I could seduce him. But it was too late to think about that now. I sat there and wondered if there was any chance that he was going through these types of changes about having dinner with me.

The cab dropped me off in front of Bouley at a quarter to six. I usually like to arrive late and make an entrance, but I decided that since his time was limited, my arriving late would be rude. And as you all know, a lady is never rude.

I had only been seated for a while before I looked up and saw Mr. Black with the maitre d’. I gave my most lady-like wave and they came toward my table. I glanced at my watch; he was early and I wondered if it was because he wanted to squeeze in every minute he could with me, or if was he just the type that liked to get to places early.

I stood up when he got to the table because I wanted to make sure he saw what I was wearing. I watched his eyes as he came closer. Mr. Black looked me over from my head to my feet, and smiled the rarest of smiles. He was wearing an Azione by Zanetti charcoal gray suit and a black shirt. He looked so handsome.

“Hello, Ms. West,” he said and kissed me on the cheek. His lips were soft and they sent chills through me. He stepped back and looked me over again. “I have to say, Ms. West, you look extraordinary this evening.”

“Thank you, Mr. Black. You look very handsome as well.”

He held out my chair for me, before taking his seat. He looked deep into my eyes. “It seems like you get more and more beautiful each time I see you.”

“You flatter me.”

“Not flattery, Ms. West; it has the advantage of being true.”

The waiter came and interrupted Mr. Black and I wanted to tell him to go away until he finished telling me how beautiful I looked.

Sure, I had heard it before, but I wanted to hear him say it.

Mr. Black ordered a bottle of vintage Dom Perigain and sent the waiter away. Then he immediately returned his attention to me. “Now, where was I, before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“I believe you were telling me how beautiful you thought I was.”

“Yes. But you probably have men telling you that type of thing everyday/all day, don’t you, Ms. West?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But you’re not every man, are you, Mr. Black?”

We continued to trade compliments while we looked over the menu, and the waiter returned with our champagne. We both ordered the Porcini Flan Dungeness crab, Black Truffle Dashi as an appetizer, and I choose the Long Island Duckling with a Balinese pepper crust, White Truffle honey, julienne of snow peas, Tahitian vanilla-glazed turnips, Verjus, ginger dressing. Mr. Black ordered the Organic Colorado Rack of Lamb, rosemary crust, Langres cheese and zucchini-mint-puree. I was surprised and very impressed that he selected a wine that was appropriate for both of our meals. Sexy and cultured. Each moment I spend with him makes this man become more and more irresistible to me.

We had polite conversation while we sipped champagne and sampled the crab. I have to be honest, I could sit and listen to Mr. Black talk all night; his voice is so soothing and he is quite knowledgeable on a number of subjects. As the waiter served our entree, I thought that there was so much more to him than I’ve given him credit for. I decided to get to business, which after all, was the more important reason for inviting him to have dinner with me.

“I haven’t heard anymore from our friend Oleg Mushnikov since we last spoke,” I said while I sliced the duck.

“And if you do hear from Oleg, I need to know about it right away.”

“Then is it safe to assume that you were able to speak with him?”

“Yes, Ms. West. I had very long talk with Oleg that same evening.”

“Do you mind if I ask how you were able to get him to leave me alone?”

“You could ask,” he said sarcastically.

“But you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“No, Ms. West, I’m not. Let’s just say that I made Oleg an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Mr. Black said, and I wondered if he had threatened to kill him. The thought that he would kill for me excited me to my core.

“I want to thank you then. I guess now would be a good time for me to ask what that offer that Mr. Mushnikov couldn’t refuse is going to cost me?”

“What do you want to owe me Ms. West?”

“What do you want, Mr. Black?” I asked, instead of offering myself to him.

He looked into my eyes again. “I believe I’ve already gotten what I want from you Ms. West.”

“And what might that be?”

“You said: thank you.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, Ms. West. Sometime in the future, I may have a business opportunity to discuss with you.”

“I’m tempted to say yes right away. You know that I’m always interested in an opportunity to make money.”

“I heard that about you,” Mr. Black said, and I wondered what he meant so I asked him.

“What have you heard?”

“That you are all about the money, Ms. West.”

I smiled and let go a flirtaous giggle. Mr. Black took a deep breath and peered into my eyes. “I wouldn’t dare deny that; especially since in most cases, it’s the truth.”

“I promise not to hold that against you. Especially since in most cases it’s true about me too,” Mr. Black told me.

“Tell me about this opportunity, Mr. Black?”

“Before I do that, I need to talk to some people. But in the meantime, anything that I can ever do for you, all you have to do is ask and consider it done.”

“Are you saying that you’d do anything for me, Mr. Black?”

“You’re a very intelligent woman Ms. West, so I think you understand what I mean.”

“I do,” I smiled and he returned my smile. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Okay. I would do anything for you, Ms. West. And all I’ll ask in return is that you look at me with those beautiful eyes and say ‘thank you’ with those lips,” he said, and I was done for the evening.

For the rest of the meal and over drinks afterwards, Mr. Black and I talked and flirted. There was a part of me that wanted to say, “What I really want is for you to make love to me tonight.”

But two things prevented that.

One: I didn’t want to hear him say, “No, I have a plane to catch.”

And the other, the stronger reason: was that he had made me feel like wanted me the way I wanted him. So if that was the case, I wanted him to take his time and make love to me.

Not fuck me like he had a plane to catch.

At about eight thirty, Mr. Black glanced at his watch and said that he had to go. I signed for the waiter. Mr. Black, as a gentleman should, insisted over my objections that he pay the check. Mr. Black stood up and came around to pull out my chair. I extended my hand and he helped me up. I looped my arm in his and gently rested my head on his shoulder as we walked out. We shared a cab in silence for the ride to my apartment. He asked the driver to wait while in escorted me to my door. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Mr. Black.”

“It was my pleasure, Ms. West. We have to do this again, next time I’m in town.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “And I’ll be looking forward to hearing about this opportunity.”

“Good night, Ms. West,” he said with a polite hug and another kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, Mr. Black. Have a safe trip,” I said, and once again watched Mr. Black walk away from me. But this time, I knew he’d be back.

Chapter Eighteen

Unknown

I am alone.

Alone everyday on this island. I really don’t know how long I’ve been here, because I stopped counting. But I know it’s been years. I still think about the night that they took me: I was watching television and looked up and there he was, standing in my living room with that smile on his face. I tried to get away, but he was too fast for me. He put something over my mouth and the next thing I knew, I woke up chained to this bed.

For the longest time, they would come in here everyday and spend hours asking me about some papers that they say I’d read. I kept telling them that I only had a chance to glance at them before the man came back to get them. Back then, I used to hope that they would realize that I didn’t know anything and let me go. I would spend all day in this room, chained to the bed. They let me get up twice a day to eat and use the bathroom, then they’d chain me to the bed and leave.

Then one day, instead of chaining me to the bed after I ate, they just walked out and left the door open. I got up and followed them out of the house. I hadn’t been outside in so long, that it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the sun. By the time my eyes focused, they were on a speedboat and they’d left me there.

After that, I began walking. I didn’t know where I was exactly, but I had always thought I was in Freeport. I would eventually get to someplace or find somebody to help me. So I walked. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was on a very small island and there was nothing there but that one house. So I went back to the house, thinking that they had finally realized that I had no idea what they were talking about, and they had no further use for me. They had left me there to die. That’s when I saw the stack of books on the table in the kitchen. I went to the refrigerator and found it full of food. “At least I won’t starve to death,” I said to know one. I didn’t know if they would be back, so I resolved to make the food last.

I spend my days walking the island, thinking about the life I once had and my family, and reading the books they had left for me. When the food was running low, I began thinking that I would have to start surviving on coconuts like Robinson Crusoe. I woke up the next morning and found the refrigerator had been restocked, and a fresh supply of books had been left me for while I slept.

At this point, after all this time, I’ve accepted my fate. Alone on this island, cut off from the world I used to know. Separated from my family. It was bearable when they first took me, because some woman would come to see me and she would bring my baby with her. But that ended the first time she called me momma. After that she stopped coming. That made sense though. Once she started talking, she would surely tell her father and he would come rescue me, like he always does.

But he’s not looking for me-because he thinks I’m dead.

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Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen