Origins- the Road to Power

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Origins- the Road to Power Page 10

by Ricky Black


  ‘You wanna hear the truth? If I get up, they might end up burying you next to your brother.’

  That was the last straw. Levi caught Shorty in the side of the head with a good shot. The blow stunned Shorty enough for Levi to pull him to the ground, but that was where the advantage ended. Levi was drunk. Even if he was sober, he wouldn’t have been a match for Shorty, who quickly overpowered him, punching him twice in the mouth before K-Bar and Lamont could pull him off.

  ‘Get off me,’ Shorty roared, trying to break free. Levi crawled into a sitting position, his mouth bleeding. He glared at Shorty, but didn’t make another move.

  ‘Shorty, chill! His brother just died,’ Lamont tried reasoning with Shorty.

  ‘Fuck him and his brother.’

  ‘No, fuck you, Shorty,’ Levi screamed. ‘I’ll deal with it myself.’ stumbling to his feet, he hurried upstairs, leaving the three of them in his kitchen.

  They didn’t see much of Levi after that. Every time Lamont called for him, Levi’s Nana would say that he was out. Lamont hoped this meant he had calmed down, but knowing Levi he doubted it.

  In the meantime, the streets were buzzing with different stories about Craig’s murder. Even his crew were swapping tales rather than doing anything. Just as Shorty predicted, the second Craig died, they moved on. Their lack of loyalty disgusted Lamont, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

  Supply-wise, they were stuck. Craig had been the only connection to Clint, and now he was dead, they were in the cold. Shorty was forced to link up with his old supplier. He hadn’t forgiven Shorty for ditching him, and hiked up the price, knowing they were powerless to do anything about it. People were put off by the decline in quality and it showed in their profits.

  Lamont had to continue though. He dealt with more people outside of Chapeltown, sweet-talking them into taking the substandard drugs. He didn’t convince everyone, but he was making the most of a bad situation.

  Marcus and Shorty, who always had their ears to the streets, reported back on what was going down in the Hood. Leader and a few of his guys had been questioned about the murder of Craig and his worker, but without evidence other than rumours of a street beef, they were forced to let the killers go on bail.

  After finishing his exams one day, Lamont slumped on Shorty’s sofa, half asleep, when the door burst open and Shorty charged into the living room, scaring Lamont.

  ‘Get up!’ he yelled, his face panicked.

  ‘What the hell, Shorty? Why are you shouting?’

  ‘Levi got arrested.’

  Lamont was up now. ‘What for?’

  ‘He went after Leader. Stabbed him on the street in front of witnesses and then ran off. Police snatched him from his Nana’s. He’s in custody now.’

  ‘What about Leader? Is he alive?’ Lamont’s head was buzzing.

  ‘One of his boys shouted a warning when Levi ran up. Sliced his chest a little, and there was loads of blood. He’s all right though. He’s already out of hospital.’

  Lamont shook his head, his mind alight with the nonsense of it all. He should have tried harder to get in contact with Levi. He had known exactly what his friend was capable of, and he had just dismissed it. Now Levi was facing prison time.

  ‘I can’t believe it . . .’

  ‘Well, you need to. He’s got no sense. Craig shoulda schooled him better on the game. He’s done summat dumb and now he’s going away for it.’

  ‘Levi’s our boy. Don’t talk about him like that.’

  ‘He’s a dickhead. Him and his brother, they never used their heads and now look at them. Dead and in jail,’ Shorty kissed his teeth. ‘I’m not getting into an argument, anyway. I’m off to get some food. You want summat?’

  Lamont shook his head again. Shorty left. Deep down, Lamont knew he was right to be annoyed. Levi had acted rashly and now he would pay the penalty for it.

  The situation was causing Lamont to think about his own future. Was this really what he wanted? Pitching on the streets, dodging overzealous drug squads and rival dealers? He needed to think about his next move.

  They’d had a good run.

  That was all Lamont thought to himself in the following days. With all the drama surrounding Craig’s murder and Levi being locked up, things were turbulent. Shorty and K-Bar were out in town getting drunk, doing drugs and waiting for things to fix themselves. Lamont didn’t see how they could without a decent supplier.

  He had visited Levi’s devastated Nana, and told her he would look out for her, but she insisted she didn’t need it. Craig had always been generous, and she had money saved. Still, she loved her grandchildren and the fact that everything was so fractured had wounded her.

  Lamont tried finding Levi’s mum in the streets, but she was in the wind. The streets had a way of hiding people who didn’t want to be found, and Lamont didn’t have the resources to track her down.

  Life at the moment was a lot of reading and soul-searching. Exams were finished, so Lamont was giving more thought to the future. He was confident he had done well on the exams, and he would use that to secure something more worthwhile.

  The jig seemed to be up. It felt like Lamont was waking up from the dream of spending drug money on new trainers and clothes. Even as he sat on the bed, he saw the Nike shoe boxes piled against the battered chest of drawers Auntie had found for him when he went to live with her. He had his Walkman at full blast, listening to Life After Death by The Notorious B.I.G., absorbing every word.

  As he tried reading a Stephen King novel, he thought about the promise he had made to himself. After shuffling from Rochelle’s house, he had vowed that he wouldn’t contact her until he knew where they stood. Rochelle had Auntie’s number. She could call at anytime to explain what had happened, what he had done wrong.

  In the heat of the act, it seemed he was doing okay. She was making all the right noises, and she seemed as connected as he was. She had seemed just as into it, but the aftermath made him wonder.

  Every time Lamont thought back to the night they had shared, he remembered the aftermath more than anything. He hated replaying the way she had recoiled afterwards when he tried to touch her. He wanted her to feel what he had felt. He wanted to tell her she had made him feel whole for the first time since he was ten years old.

  And that was when Lamont decided to break his promise. He would go to Rochelle. Tell her he would get a job; that he wanted them to be normal together. He was smart. He knew how to get the best out of people. Surely there was something out there for him on the job front?

  Talking to her and baring his soul had worked well for him last time, and Lamont was willing to bet it would work again. Hitting the stop button on his Walkman, he hurried to get ready.

  Lamont hurried along the streets, Rochelle’s house soon looming in front of him. The bedroom light was on but the downstairs lights were off. Lamont knocked loudly, laying out the game plan. When the door opened, Lamont’s rehearsed words vanished.

  ‘Yeah?’ A man looked out at him. He looked older and more unnervingly, he was half dressed, his defined upper body on show. His shaggy afro was unkempt, and he had a five o’clock shadow across the underside of his face. There were marks all over his body, along with a scar that went through the middle of his right eyebrow down to his eyelid.

  Lamont stared, not knowing what to say. He felt like he had seen the man somewhere, but couldn’t think where.

  ‘Oi? What do you want?’ the man said, louder this time. Lamont heard footsteps and Rochelle appeared next to the man. Her mouth fell open at the sight of Lamont.

  ‘L?’

  ‘This is that little kid you were grinding?’ The man looked Lamont up and down.

  ‘Ricky, let me handle this,’ Rochelle said. He didn’t even acknowledge her words.

  ‘Yo, piss off. You got a little shag, and that’s the end. This is mine,’ Ricky taunted, putting his arm around Rochelle. Instinctively, Lamont’s hands balled into fists. Ricky noticed.

  ‘Oh? You
wanna go? C’mon then!’

  ‘Ricky. Go back upstairs. Please, let me handle this,’ Rochelle repeated. Ricky gave Lamont a scathing look.

  ‘Guess I’ll warm the bed back up.’

  An awkward silence lingered in Ricky’s departure. Lamont’s heart hammered as he gazed at Rochelle. He hadn’t noticed she wore nothing but a bed sheet. Once he saw it, something in him seemed to shift, his insides turning to lead. He wanted to fall to the ground. He realised then, at that horrid moment, that he was in love.

  Lamont wanted to cry. He wanted to hit Rochelle. He wanted to hit Ricky. He wanted to keep attacking them both. Most of all, he wanted to hold Rochelle, and he wanted her to hold him back. To be there for him. Lamont wanted to call her names. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t speak.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Rochelle’s simple words cut through Lamont like a knife. He forced himself to maintain her gaze, his eyes filling with tears that he quickly blinked away.

  ‘Is he the baggage?’ Lamont’s words came out as a croaking sound. Rochelle hesitated, then slowly nodded.

  ‘So, what happens now?’ he asked, trying his hardest to control his words. Rochelle didn’t hesitate.

  ‘Now, you go home and forget all about me.’

  With that, Rochelle closed the door on both Lamont and his broken heart.

  Teflon

  Chapter Ten

  Thursday 23 April 1998

  ‘We need a plan.’

  Lamont didn’t immediately reply to Shorty’s words. They stood outside a local shop in the Hood, enjoying the warm evening, well-received after two weeks of wet weather. He knew his friend was right though. They needed something solid.

  Lamont had finished his education the previous year, scoring highly in all of his exams. Upon picking up his results, Lamont’s teachers tried talking to him about his future goals, only to be coldly rebuffed.

  Lamont, Shorty and K-Bar had continued to sell weed, but the profits they enjoyed with Craig were long gone, and Lamont had to dip into his savings more often.

  Auntie knew he had money and turned up the pressure on him, first by demanding he pay board, to which Lamont agreed, then by badgering Lamont about what he was doing. He was storing more things in Marcus’s room. Marcus didn’t mind. He had all but moved out, spending his time in the streets.

  Lamont hung with Shorty most of the time, and with Shorty anything could happen. A trip to the shop to buy milk one day, escalated into Shorty shaking down a sale for twenty pounds and repeatedly stomping on him. Why Shorty had done it, Lamont couldn’t say.

  ‘I know,’ he finally replied.

  ‘We can’t keep going like this. I still think robberies are where it’s at. Marcus is making grands.’

  Lamont shook his head. ‘You can, but I’m not getting into that.’

  ‘What then? What’s the big plan? Trevor is going on funny ever since I ducked him and started working with you lot. He doesn’t give a damn how much money we’re bringing. He’s never gonna give us a break.’ Shorty was referring to their weed supplier.

  Lamont was half-listening, his attention on a black Mercedes Benz ghosting down the road. Loud rap music blared from the speakers. When the driver looked out of his window, Lamont’s stomach lurched when he realised who it was. He was now fully clothed, but it was the man Rochelle had been with that night.

  Ricky slowed the car down, staring at Lamont over the top of expensive sunglasses. The exchange only lasted a second before he was down the road and out of sight.

  ‘Yo, how do you know Ricky?’ Shorty frowned at Lamont.

  ‘What?’ Lamont stared after the car.

  ‘Ricky. Ricky Reagan. He works for Delroy, man.’

  ‘I’ve seen him around,’ Lamont lied. He didn’t need Shorty to tell him about Delroy. Delroy Williams was the biggest criminal in Leeds, and had been so for decades, heavily involved in drugs and other forms of crime.

  ‘Ricky’s the guy Craig wanted to be. Delroy has him running most of his street teams. I heard he bought that Benz brand new. Cash.’

  ‘That’s impressive,’ Lamont replied through gritted teeth. He couldn’t help but remember Ricky’s arrogance that night as he’d stared down Lamont. It occurred almost a year ago, yet Lamont was as affected now. Shorty babbled, oblivious to Lamont’s change of mood.

  ‘There’s pure money in those hard drugs. I know a couple guys selling coke small-time. They make loads off them white people in town,’ said Shorty, laughing. Lamont’s brow furrowed.

  ‘Let’s do that,’ he said.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Sell coke.’

  Shorty sniggered. ‘You wanna sell coke? You?’

  Shorty’s laughter grew. His shoulders shook, tears of mirth streaming from his eyes. Lamont didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. He stared down his friend in a way he never had before, and when Shorty noticed the look, he immediately sobered up.

  Lamont’s face was placid, but his nostrils flared, and his eyes were like ice. Shorty didn’t know what had caused the change, and he stood there, stumped.

  ‘Do you want money?’ Lamont said, when he was sure he had Shorty’s full attention.

  ‘What kinda question is that? Course I want money. We’re dying out here, L, for basically nothing. We make enough to do what we’re doing, but where’s the profit?’

  ‘This is the chance to get ahead. I’ve been considering something similar for a while, and we can do it. We only need one thing.’

  ‘Yeah. Cash. Packages cost money, bro. Drugs aren’t cheap. I doubt that even between you, me and K, we could come up with enough. Unless you wanna rip off Trevor and not give him his end?’

  Lamont gazed into the distance again, his mind on Mercedes Benzes’ and women he couldn’t have.

  ‘If we were to sell, do you think you could find us a customer base?’

  Shorty needed only a second to think about that.

  ‘Yeah, I know people. They’d buy from us.’

  Lamont smiled now, the icy look in his eyes fading.

  ‘We’ll need to get someone to give us credit then.’

  ‘Don’t talk shit. No-one’s gonna front us for some coke. Everyone is out for themselves. No one’s trying to bring anyone else in. It’s not that kinda game.’

  ‘We’ll make it that kinda game. Get us a meeting and I will do the rest,’ Lamont said.

  Shorty stared at his friend in wonder. Lamont quietly went about his business, ruffled no feathers and kept it moving. At times though, he was a different person, driven, seeming to radiate some inner power that demanded you take him seriously.

  Shorty first noticed when they were selling drugs with Levi. Levi would act like he was the boss but when it was crunch time, Lamont made the crucial decisions. It confused Shorty, but also filled him with a sense of reassurance. He didn’t quite know what was going on with Lamont, but he was calculated and intelligent. Shorty was in.

  ‘Cool, L. I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Lamont? Why haven’t you swept the kitchen floor yet?’

  Lamont slumped over the table, eating cereal and listening to Mobb Deep on his Walkman. He could hear Auntie shouting, but she didn’t need to know that. The Walkman and cassette tapes he’d purchased were proving a worthwhile investment. Realising Lamont wasn’t listening, Auntie snatched the earphones from his ears.

  ‘Do you hear me?’ she screamed. Lamont looked at her blankly.

  ‘Yes, I hear you. I’ll sweep when I’m finished.’

  ‘No, you’ll do it now.’

  Lamont swallowed another mouthful of cornflakes and looked at his Auntie.

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  Auntie eyes bulged at Lamont’s defiance. ‘Yes, you will. I’m not sure where you think you are, but this is my house and you’ll do as I say.’

  ‘I don’t think you heard me the first time,’ Lamont put the spoon in the bowl without taking his eyes from his Aunt. ‘No. I. Won’t.’

  Auntie shook
her head. ‘You think you can take me on?’

  Lamont smiled, viewing Auntie as if for the first time. She was attractive, but it was a faded, marred beauty, the hair still long and dark, but without the shine. The clothes were still expensive, but tight on a body that had put on a lot of weight and couldn’t face it.

  ‘Take you on? What is it you think is going on here? I’m a grown man and my days of being bossed around by you are over.’

  ‘Oh really?’ Auntie’s sunken cheekbones quivered, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to gather her words. Lamont didn’t give her a chance.

  ‘Yes, really. I pay you rent. Why should I even do chores?’

  ‘I’ll tell you why, because—’

  ‘The question was rhetorical,’ Lamont interjected. ‘I’m not doing chores anymore. So either you do them, or get Rika to.’

  Auntie gasped at Lamont’s words. Before she could retort, there was a knock at the door. Lamont smiled sweetly and stood. ‘I’ll get that shall I?’ Leaving Auntie in stunned silence, he left the kitchen.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Shorty said when Lamont opened the door. It had been a week since Lamont had given Shorty his task. They’d chilled since, but Shorty hadn’t mentioned it, and Lamont hadn’t pushed the issue. Lamont stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

  ‘I’ve been all over the place, L. No one wants to deal with us.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘People turned me down left right and centre. A couple’ people said they’d sell to us for a price, but no-one’s trying to give anything for free. Not to me anyway,’ Shorty kissed his teeth. Lamont read between the lines; Shorty had done robberies in the past, making it hard for people to trust him.

  ‘No one would deal with you?’

  Shorty nodded. ‘One guy said he would. He’s a loser though.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This dude called Louie. Lives near Bankside. He said he’ll meet us.’

  ‘So, let’s deal with him.’ Lamont didn’t understand.

 

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