Guard the Throne

by Nisa Santiago

  “You still like to be on that cowboy shit, Alonzo.”

  “Shit, it keeps the blood flowing in me. You feel me? It keeps my name ringing in these streets, and my reputation fierce out there for any muthafucka thinking about trying to get at me, to think twice.”

  “But, anyway, we here on business, right?” Curtis took a few more sips then placed the glass on the granite countertop and walked over to the window.

  Curtis continued to be a bit standoffish. He assumed Alonzo didn’t know about him knowing about the affair with Ashanti. He was itching to snatch the pistol from out his holster and start shooting up the apartment. But he kept his composure and listened to Alonzo talk.

  “What you need, though, Curtis?” Alonzo asked. “You know I’m here for you, my dude.”

  “Three ki’s,” he replied.

  “Just three? Damn, nigga. Upgrade, muthafucka! You know I got you. If you need more ki’s on consignment, just ask. But three? Shit, Curtis, as long as you and me been friends and been in this fuckin’ game, shit, you should be moving at least twenty bricks a month or something.”

  “Nah, just three,” Curtis repeated coolly.

  Alonzo shook his head. “What? You trying to play it safe or something?”

  “I just don’t need the headaches right now.”

  “Headaches? Shit, nigga, what the fuck you so stressed over?”

  “When you have a teenage daughter, you’ll understand.”

  Alonzo laughed. “Muthafucka, get a nanny. I got one. C’mon, nigga, I got your three ki’s. Dino, we’ll be right back.”

  Curtis followed Alonzo down the corridor into a room nestled at the end of the hallway.

  “How’s Ashanti?” Alonzo suddenly asked.

  Curtis’ blood started to boil. Alonzo had some nerve asking about her. The question irritated Curtis like nails scraping against a chalkboard. But he held his tongue and calmly replied, “She’s a’ight.”

  “Tell her I said hi.”

  Alonzo walked toward the back room, his back to Curtis. Curtis’ hand was near the holstered pistol on his left side. It would have been so easy to open fire and take him down. Alonzo wouldn’t even have seen it coming. But then he would have had to worry about Dino. Hearing the shots would send the big bear charging at him.

  The men entered the room. It was sparsely furnished, with no windows and bare eggshell-colored walls. No life or art was displayed anywhere in the room. It was Alonzo’s safe room. There was a large safe embedded into the wall—the elephant in the room.

  Curtis stood by the doorway as Alonzo opened the safe. The drugs and cash stashed in his vaulted safe equaled $450,000 and thirteen ki’s.

  Curtis saw the mother lode and he wanted it. It was the cash and drugs that Alonzo had taken and killed the Haitians for.

  He removed three bricks for Curtis and then closed the safe back up. “Three bricks,” he said, handing the drugs over to Curtis.

  It was a done deal. The men went back into the main room where Dino was behind the bar once again.

  Alonzo glared at his bodyguard. “Muthafucka, I don’t pay you to drink my damn bar dry. Shit!”

  “Sorry, boss,” Dino replied.

  Alonzo shook his head and focused his attention back on Curtis. “We okay here?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine. I need to use your bathroom though.”

  “Nigga, you know where it is. Stop actin’ like you a fuckin’ stranger in this crib. Shit, fuck you asking for? What? You need a nigga to hold it for you too?”

  Curtis managed to chuckle. “Nah, you can’t lift that much.”

  Alonzo laughed. “You got jokes, nigga.”

  Curtis turned and went to use the bathroom on the first floor. He shut the door and immediately removed the 9mm from his holster and screwed the silencer onto the tip of the pistol. He took a good look at himself in the large mirror. His eyes were cold. He sighed heavily, knowing what was about to transpire.

  Alonzo had crossed that line, and now it was time for him to pay the consequences in fucking with his man’s wifey. It was going to be painful to do. They’d been friends for twenty years, and now because of pussy, their friendship was about to end violently.

  Curtis gripped the pistol tightly. He continued to stare at his reflection. He had killed before. But this, by far, would be the hardest murder that he would ever have to execute. It was like killing his brother. But his brother had violated their friendship when he’d put his dick into the mother to his three kids—the love of his life.

  Curtis exited the bathroom with the gun down at his side and hidden slightly behind his right leg. Alonzo would be completely caught off guard by the attack. When he entered the room again, Alonzo was posted by the bar with another drink in his hand. Dino stood by the French windows that peered out at the vast city.

  Curtis locked eyes with Alonzo, who was still all smiles. He walked into the room with a grim expression. Alonzo lowered the glass from his lips and started to pay closer attention to his longtime friend.

  “What’s up?” Alonzo asked. His eyes dropped down to where Curtis’ right hand was situated behind his leg, concealing the pistol.

  Curtis went into action like a strike of lightning. He swiftly brandished the 9mm, outstretching his hand and trained it at Dino. The husky bodyguard was caught off guard. He opened his eyes wide in shock, and before he could react, two shots went off.

  Dino’s head jerked back violently from the bullets piercing his skull, and he slammed into the windows with a powerful thud. His blood sprayed across the glass like paint. He was dead instantly.

  “Yo, what the fuck, Curtis!” Alonzo shouted. He was frantic. “You lost your fuckin’ mind?”

  “No! You fuckin’ lost yours,” Curtis retorted.

  Alonzo was defenseless. He gazed at Dino’s body sprawled out across the rich marble floors. A thick crimson pool grew across the floor where Dino’s body lay.

  Curtis stepped closer to Alonzo and aimed the gun at his head. There was no turning back now. “Let’s go, down the hall and back to the safe,” he instructed Alonzo.

  “Yo, you fuckin’ robbing me now, nigga? You fuckin’ serious?” Alonzo wasn’t budging. He stood his ground with a hard gaze at Curtis.

  Poot!

  The shot whizzed by Alonzo’s ear, nicking him, and smashed into a few bottles behind the bar.

  “Muthafucka!” Alonzo screamed, grabbing his ear where the bullet grazed him.

  “I ain’t playin’, muthafucka.”

  Alonzo looked into his friend’s cold eyes. “So it’s like that, huh?”

  “Let’s not make this difficult, Alonzo.”

  “Nigga, shit already is.”

  Curtis forced Alonzo back into the safe room at gunpoint. He remained a few steps behind him. If Alonzo even flinched wrong, he was ready to put three shots into his back.

  Alonzo reluctantly opened up the safe and then pivoted on his heels to stare at the friend betraying him. He glared down the barrel of the gun and through clenched teeth said, “Twenty years we go back, muthafucka, and you pull this shit. You were my friend, nigga!”

  “Friend? You should have thought of that before you fucked her.”

  “What?” The realization suddenly set into Alonzo. “She came at me, Curtis.”

  “Nigga, you knew she was off-limits. You fuckin’ knew how much I love that girl. She’s the mother to my kids!”

  “So, you gonna rob and kill me over a piece of pussy? We go back before her.”

  “You just don’t get it, Alonzo. Ashanti is more to me than just another notch on my belt. But you don’t know shit about that.”

  “Nigga, like you a fuckin’ saint! How many times you cheated on that bitch? Y’all ain’t even together anymore, from my understanding.”

 
“You just don’t get it. Ain’t no fuckin’ boundaries with you, Alonzo. There never been. Ever since we were kids, you did shit your way and ain’t give a fuck about anybody else. I’m tired of you.”

  “You do this to me, Curtis, and I swear, it’s gonna be hell on earth for you and your fuckin’ family,” Alonzo said through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

  Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot!

  Curtis slaughtered Alonzo at close range, and his body crumbled at Curtis’ feet like dirty laundry. Blood was everywhere. Curtis stared down at Alonzo’s body for a moment. Then he stepped over it and reached into the safe, pulled out the bundles of money and drugs, and began dumping them into a black duffel bag.

  He rushed from the penthouse, keeping his face lowered to the floor and head turned away from the security cameras. He knew the building like the back of his hand. He made his exit out the back entrance of the high-rise, racing underneath the parking garage, and emerging from the back door into a narrow alleyway.

  He walked casually to his car, carrying $450,000 and thirteen ki’s of pure cocaine in a small duffel bag.

  6

  Curtis woke up to the constant ringing of his cell phone. He had slept in his clothing and could almost not sleep last night. The scene at the penthouse kept replaying in his mind.

  Alonzo had killed the Haitians for the drugs and loot, and now Curtis had returned the favor, violently striking the hand that was feeding him. Alonzo was a high-profile player in the game, and his people would be searching desperately for the culprits responsible for his death. His men would be looking to kill everything in sight—anyone who could be considered a suspect was walking on thin ice. The streets were about to become flooded with blood.

  Curtis knew he had to play his cards right and tread lightly. Not only was his own life in jeopardy, so were his children’s.

  The chime in Curtis’ ear was giving him a slight headache. He set his phone on vibrate and tossed it across the room. His bedroom was dark, even though it was almost noon. The curtains were black and closed tightly, not letting a degree of sunlight seep through. His pistol was close to his reach. It was on the bed, cocked back, the safety off and ready for any danger. If anyone besides his kids came through that bedroom door, Curtis was ready to open fire.

  The advantage Curtis had was, no one had seen him come or go, and no one was aware that he had a meeting with Alonzo. As far as Maino knew, Curtis had cancelled their meeting, so Curtis’ alibi was that he never went. It had been postponed until the next day; even Maino could be a witness to that.

  Alonzo had enemies everywhere he turned. Even though he was respected and feared, not everybody liked him. There would be a lot of fingerpointing—the Haitians, a jilted lover, a jealous boyfriend, or a rival crew.

  An hour later, Curtis decided to finally tune himself back into the world. He couldn’t hide from the trouble brewing. He had gotten his thoughts together, knowing he had covered his tracks carefully. He checked his cell phone. Fifteen missed calls showed on his display screen. Most of the missed calls were from Ashanti and Maino. He got out the bed and moved toward the window. He pulled back the curtains and peered outside for a moment. Armageddon hadn’t happened yet.

  The phone rang in his hand. It was Ashanti again. He decided to answer this time.

  “Hey, babe,” he said coolly.

  “Curtis, I’ve been trying to call you all morning. Something happened to Alonzo.” Ashanti was frantic and sounded like she was in tears.

  “What the fuck you talkin’ about, Ashanti?”

  “They found him murdered in his penthouse.”

  “What?”

  “They killed him. Shot him and Dino to death,” she cried out.

  There was a short pause.

  Ashanti then asked, “Baby, did you have something to do with it?”

  “What? What the fuck you talkin’ about!” he barked. “You fuckin’ accusing me of it, and over the damn phone? Bitch, you must have lost ya damn mind! My friend is dead, and you fuckin’ blaming me?”

  “I just thought—”

  “You thought wrong!” he screamed.

  “I’m sorry, baby. What’s gonna happen?”

  “I’m gonna find out what’s going on, but stay off the damn phone, and be careful who you talk to,” Curtis advised in a cooler tone.

  “Be careful, Curtis.”

  “Just hang up,” he said sharply.

  After the phone went silent, Curtis stood by the window and sighed heavily. He turned to look at the bed, underneath which was the duffel bag filled with drugs and cash. It wasn’t the most suitable place to hide the booty, but until he could think of a better place to stash it, his bedroom was the only place he could trust.

  It was about to be a busy day for Curtis. His cell phone continued to ring again. He glanced at who was calling, and it was Maino. He had to take the call. He figured Maino had also heard about Alonzo’s death already and would be ready to go to war.

  “Maino,” Curtis answered softly.

  “Where the fuck you at right now?” Maino exclaimed. “I’ve been tryin’ to call you all fuckin’ morning, and you ain’t pickin’ up. We need to tool the fuck up, Curtis. I know you already heard about Alonzo.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “He dead, yo! Alonzo is fuckin’ dead!” Maino screamed.

  Curtis could feel Maino’s deadly temper through the phone. His aggression was evident as Maino growled at him.

  “Where they get him at?” Curtis asked.

  “At his penthouse in midtown, him and Dino.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yo, we need to meet right now, Curtis.”

  “Where?”

  “I’ll come to get you. Be at your place in a half-hour.”

  “A’ight.”

  Maino hung up and left Curtis in his room pondering. Shit was about to hit the fan. He needed a shower and a change of clothes, after being in the same attire for twenty-four hours.

  Curtis pivoted on his heels and looked at the bed again. He had a small fortune hidden underneath. He’d already made up his mind not to share the wealth with Maino nor confide in his friend. The truth would die with him. It would be his secret. The first thing Maino would want to know was where the money and drugs had come from. Curtis couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation to give to Maino, so it was best to live the lie. Maino wasn’t a stupid man. He would put two and two together if the contents of the duffel bag were ever exposed to him. He didn’t know what Maino’s reaction would be if he knew the truth. Maino was unpredictable, and Curtis wasn’t willing to take a chance.

  He crouched near the end of the bed and pulled out the bag. It was unzipped, and the bundles of money and ki’s of cocaine were almost spilling out of it, like an overflowing bathtub. It was a sexy thing to see. Curtis gazed at it for a moment. It was a sweet score—blood money that no one could know about. Not even his kids.

  He started to wash up and change clothes. The apartment was quiet. His sons were gone, and Citi had been cooped up in her room all morning.

  An hour later and Maino was still a no-show. But Curtis wasn’t rushing. It felt unreal to Curtis—that he’d just killed his friend of twenty years. There was no turning back from it, though. The wicked deed had been sealed. He was a richer man because of it, and it was proof that the game had no loyalty.

  The duffel bag remained snuggled in the corner between the bed and the wall, out of view from the doorway. It was going to take hours to count it all. It would have to be done when no one was around. Curtis needed privacy. He didn’t want to worry about being interrupted when he placed the bills in the counting machine. He didn’t want to be questioned by a damn soul.

  He knew a drug crew in Yonkers and another crew in Long Island to unload th
e product on. It would be a healthy profit in return, but he’d have to make the deal under the radar. Neither Maino nor any Alonzo’s people could catch wind of him doing any side deals with different crews. It would bring on suspicion.

  The cell phone started to chime once again. It was Maino calling. “What up?”

  “We downstairs,” Maino said.

  “A’ight, be down in a minute.” Curtis zipped up the bag and pushed it back under the bed. He stuck the pistol into his waistband, donned his thick leather jacket, and exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  Before he stepped out the front door, Citi emerged from her bedroom and greeted her father with a smile.

  “You leaving, Daddy?” she asked. She stood in front of her father clad in a pair of tight shorts, a wifebeater, and a multi-colored scarf tied around her head.

  Curtis turned to gaze at his beautiful little girl. She was growing, and growing up fast. Her natural beauty filled the room. His eyes lingered on his daughter’s curvy body. She was a father’s nightmare.

  “I gotta make an important run with Maino,” he said to her. “Go put some clothes on. I might have company coming by later on.”

  “Okay.” She turned to go back into her room.

  “Citi,” Curtis called out to her.

  She turned and looked at him. Curtis approached his daughter. His eyes showed the love he had for his little girl. The murderous gangsta that he was on the streets dissipated once he was around her. Citi waited for him to say something.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  Citi nodded.

  “You’re the best thing in my life right now. And, no matter what happens, I will always love you.”

  “Daddy, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” Citi asked with a worried gaze.

  “Ain’t no reason to be scared, and there’s nothing wrong. I’m coming right back, princess. I just wanted to say that to you.” He smiled, then turned and made his exit.

  Citi followed him to the door and watched her father fade into the elevator. Despite her father’s words, her heart was telling her that something was wrong, but she didn’t know what it was yet.