by Carl Weber
Vegas
21
“You know she’s pissed, don’t you?” Sasha asked as we walked to my Bentley truck. My sister Paris had just had a meltdown because I wouldn’t take her with us to the Bronx.
“She’ll get over it,” I replied. “She’s way too unpredictable and too damn emotional for something like this. We’re not trying to kill anybody, just get our point across.”
It had already been an emotional day, with Rio coming home from the hospital after his attack. But I’d just gotten a call from my guy in the Bronx with info about who was responsible for Rio’s beatdown, so I needed to check it out. With Junior and Orlando out of town, I asked Sasha to take a ride with me to watch my back. Paris, who was equally capable, had heard where we were going and got offended that I didn’t ask her.
“Sasha, honey, I’m going to sit up front.”
I heard the voice before I turned around and saw my mother, along with Paris, sashaying across the driveway toward the truck. My mom jumped in the front passenger’s seat, and Paris smugly walked around and got in behind the driver’s seat.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re going with you.” My mom looked over at me as she reached for her seatbelt and pulled it across her chest. “You did say you were going to confront Rio’s attackers, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but . . .” It was one thing to put Paris in her place, but my mother was a different story. “Don’t you want to be taking care of Rio?”
“Your brother is fine. London and Harris are there if he needs anything. Now, stop playing around and drive, Vegas.”
I shook my head. “Did you talk to Pop?” I asked.
“Yes, I talked to him a little while ago, and I told him what happened. He’s on his way home from Atlanta. At least he better be.” The aggravation in her voice was obvious, which wasn’t a good sign for my father.
She asked me, “Have you spoken to Nevada? Does he know what happened?”
“No.”
“Why not? You know how close he and Rio are. You need to tell him.”
“He’s already dealing with a lot right now with everything going on between me and his mother. I don’t want to give him anything else to worry about,” I said with a deep sigh.
“What do you mean he’s dealing with a lot? What the hell is going on between you and Consuela now?”
“He’s got baby mama drama,” Paris laughed from the back.
“Shut up, Paris,” Ma snapped before I could get it out. “Vegas?”
“Consuela is tripping.”
“What do you mean? You told me you were going to talk to her about the mix-up with the girls going to the water park.” She sounded so aggravated.
“I tried, but she’s making demands I ain’t willing to entertain.”
“What kind of demands?”
“She says she’s gonna take Nevada back to California if I don’t stop seeing Marie,” I told her.
“What? She can’t do that,” Ma snapped.
“That’s what I say, but that’s the threat.”
“That’s one bold woman, Vegas. You need to do something about this,” Ma said, raising her voice.
“Ma, I tried.” I shook my head. “Nevada has tried. Sometimes you just have to wait for Consuela to cool down.”
“Vegas, two nights ago, I almost lost my son. I refuse to lose my grandson. This family is everything to me, and I will not just sit back and allow it to be destroyed because you can’t keep your women straight,” she said forcefully. “I recognize this is your business, but this is my family, and I will not have it torn apart from the inside.”
“I understand that, Ma, but what do you want me to do?” I pleaded, not wanting to upset her any more than she already was.
“I’d like to speak with her.”
“If you think you can get through to her, have at it.”
“I will.” She folded her arms and sat back in her seat just as we turned into the neighborhood where we were headed.
I pulled over to the curb and leaned past her to get a better look at the house.
“Are you sure this is it?” she asked.
“This is the address he gave me. Says the guy’s name is Vaughn Holmes.”
“Okay, then what are we waiting for?” She reached for the door handle, but I stopped her.
“I don’t know about this, Ma. I don’t think Pop would approve of you doing this, and he darn sure wouldn’t want me to let you do it.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Wait on him? Do you really think this is at the top of his list of priorities right now?” she asked.
Although she made a good point, I didn’t want to throw my father under the bus. Instead, I tried to reason with her. “Why don’t you just let me and the girls handle this? These are street cats, and it could get real dangerous. I can’t let nothing happen to you.”
“Honey, I think you’ve forgotten this is not your mama’s first rodeo. Whoever this piece of trash is, he doesn’t pose a threat, and I ain’t scared.” She reached into the large Chanel bag on her lap and pulled out a shiny .44 magnum and held it up with a reassuring smile. Before I knew it, she had opened the car door and was stepping out.
I quickly hopped out too. “Ma, wait. You can’t go in there by yourself. Jesus.”
“You’re right,” she said, continuing her walk toward the house. “Paris, Sasha, you girls come on.”
My sister and cousin jumped out and followed her.
“You’re welcome to come too if you’d like, Vegas.”
I took a deep breath and sighed, trudging behind them. The women in my family could be so damn difficult sometimes.
Paris
22
I jumped out of the car with Sasha and followed my mother up the steps to the house. I was too stubborn to look back, but I was sure Vegas was following us, and I’d bet money he wasn’t happy about it. Oh, well. That’s what he got for trying to leave me out the fray. If he had let me go with him and Sasha in the first place, I never would have told my mom they were going after Rio’s attackers. Vegas and I were going to have words about it later. Of that, I was certain.
“Do we have a plan?” Vegas asked when my mom reached the top step.
“Of course we have a plan,” she replied, knocking on the door like she was there for a friendly little visit.
Sasha, Vegas, and I just kind of looked at each other. I mean, this was a drug dealer’s house. In these situations, Vegas or Junior would usually break down the door, or Sasha would pick the lock, or I’d climb through a window. We’d do anything but knock on the door. And they say I’m reckless.
As crazy as it sounds, a woman about my age answered the door. I tensed up, ready to start shooting, but she seemed harmless enough.
“Can I help you?” the girl asked. She glanced at my mother, but her eyes studied me and Sasha. If she was like most chicks, she was just concerned about us stealing her man. We had that kind of effect on women.
My mother put on this sweet, proper voice. “Yes, dear, does Vaughn Holmes live here?”
She nodded, still staring at me and Sasha. Bitch had no idea. We didn’t want her man; we were there to whip his ass for what he did to Rio.
“Can I speak to him?” Mom smiled sweetly.
The woman turned back to the inside of the house and yelled, “Vaughn, some lady at the door for you!”
“Who the fuck is it?” he yelled back.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I can introduce myself,” my mother said, pushing her aside so she could enter the house.
The girl screamed, and at that point, Vegas, Sasha, and I didn’t have any choice but to follow right behind my mother, weapons drawn. By the time we entered the living room, there were three men standing there, and one had a gun pointed at my mother. Amazingly, my mom just stood there like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Which one of you is Vaughn?” she demanded to know.
“Who the fuck i
s asking?” the man with the gun growled.
“Your worst fucking nightmare if you don’t lower that gun from my head and tell me what I want to know. Don’t you have any respect for your elders?”
“Fuck that shit. Motherfuckers ain’t just gonna keep rolling up in here like they invited guests. This my motherfucking house. Now, tell them to lower their guns or I’m gonna blast your ass some new holes for your earrings.”
“You do, and it will be the last thing you ever do,” I told him, pointing my gun at his head.
“Fuck you, bitch,” he said, getting excited. “I don’t mind dying as long as she goes with me.” Tough talk, but I didn’t believe him, and I don’t think my mom did either.
“Paris,” my mother said calmly.
“Yeah, Mom.”
“If this son of a bitch doesn’t get this gun out my face in the next ten seconds, I want you to shoot him. You know where, right?”
“Mm-hmm. Sure do.” I took aim.
“Now, baby, please don’t kill him. Just shoot him. I might want to ask him a few questions when this is all over.” My mother smiled at the guy we all suspected was Vaughn. “Young man, if you don’t want to be shot, you might want to lower that weapon.”
“She shoots me, and I’m gonna shoot you.” He turned the gun sideways, pushing it closer to my mother’s face. He had no idea how easy he was making this.
“I don’t think so,” my mother replied, leaning to the side just as I pulled the trigger.
Vaughn screamed like a little bitch. The bullet went into his shoulder, paralyzing the nerves that controlled his fingers. He spun away from us in the opposite direction, dropping his gun, which Vegas snatched up.
Like it was just another day, my mom bent over and swept off an armchair with her hand before taking a seat. Crossing her legs, she gave me an approving nod and a smile. I can’t begin to tell you how good that made me feel. Making my mother proud wasn’t a daily occurrence for me.
“Now, maybe we should start over. Which one of you is Vaughn?” Mom asked, taking out her piece and looking at the other two men side-eyed. They glanced at each other, then turned to their heads toward their wounded friend.
“You bitch-ass motherfuckers!” Vaughn shouted
“A’ight, Vaughn. Now that we’ve established who you are, she’s about to ask you some questions, and if you’re smart, you’ll answer them truthfully,” Vegas said.
Vaughn looked at her furiously. “I ain’t saying shit. Fuck you and that old-ass bitch!”
“Call her a bitch again and I’ll kill you myself!” Vegas backhanded him so hard it echoed in the room. Everyone else in the room, including me and Sasha, flinched. That shit hurt for sure. Probably broke a few teeth, too.
“Fuck.” Vaughn grunted.
Vegas yanked him up from the ground and threw him onto the sofa.
“You motherfuckers sit down with him,” I yelled, pointing my gun at Vaughn’s crew. They wasted no time sitting their asses on the couch where Vaughn was busy bleeding.
“All right, let’s try this again. This time, let’s be a little more respectful,” my mom said.
Believe it or not, this guy actually looked like he wanted to continue being defiant. Things got even crazier when the front door creaked open and a tall, cute, muscular guy about Vegas’s age stepped in, followed by two other men. They didn’t hide the fact that they were all wearing shoulder holsters under their jackets. The four captives on the sofa looked somewhat relieved to see them. In fact, the one who was shot actually jumped up like he was being rescued.
“Man, Big Pat, handle these motherfuckers before I do,” Vaughn yelled, holding his shoulder. “They don’t realize who the fuck they messin’ with.”
“No, motherfucker, you don’t know who you messing with,” Big Pat said to Vaughn as he walked over to where my mother was sitting. He kneeled down and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Mrs. D. I didn’t know you was gonna be here too. You looking lovely as ever.”
“Thank you, Pat. It’s so good to see you.” She smiled, then turned her attention back to the people in front of her. “I was just about to have a little chat with Vaughn, but he doesn’t seem to want to play nice. He was acting up so much I had to let Paris shoot him.”
Vaughn’s eyes widened. “Big Pat, man, I don’t know who the fuck these people are. They just came busting up in here—”
“Shut the fuck up, nigga. You don’t need to know who they are. Just know they’re the ones who put me on, and you betta tell them whatever the fuck they wanna know,” Big Pat snapped.
Vaughn didn’t say anything, but his silence was enough for Pat, who turned to my mother and said, “Go ahead, Mrs. D. They not gonna give you no more problems.”
“Thank you.” Mom smiled at him then turned to Vaughn. “Now, the first thing I’d like to know is why did you attack my son?”
Everyone on the sofa looked confused by her question. Vaughn looked over at Pat, then back at Mom, and said, “Who is your son?”
“His name is Rio.”
Once again, he looked over at Pat, then my mother, but this time he looked truly confused.
“Lady—uh, ma’am—ain’t nobody touched your son. I don’t even know who he is. I swear.”
“You were at the club the other night and had a fight with him in the bathroom,” I snapped at him, itching to pull the trigger again.
“I had a fight, but it wasn’t with nobody called Rio. Dude we was fighting name is Roman, and he had it coming,” he tried to explain.
“Why? Why the fuck did he have it coming?” Mom growled angrily. She looked like she was about to shoot him in the other shoulder.
“Because he was fucking my girl, that’s why!” Vaughn spat back. “And he’s been fucking her for weeks.”
“What? You said you ain’t fuckin’ with her no more!” the girl snapped, swinging wildly at him until Vegas pulled her off.
“Well, my son is gay.” My mother took out her cell phone and showed them a picture of Rio. They all fell back silently in their seats. “So, him being with your girl or any other girl is out of the question.”
One of the guys said, “That do look like the guy in the bathroom, Vaughn. Remember we was laughing about Roman dying his hair purple?”
“Shut up, Theo. It was you that said it was him in the first place. I ain’t never met that nigga Roman,” Vaughn mumbled.
Mom stared at them for a minute while she put the pieces together. “You mean to tell me that my son was laid up in a hospital for two days because of a mistaken identity? Over some girl?” She had her gun in her hand, swinging it around wildly as she spoke.
“Yeah, kinda. It was on accident,” Theo replied humbly.
“I’m going to put this away before I use it.” She sighed, biting her lip as she stared at the gun, then slid it back in her bag. I could see the anger and frustration on her face. If that had been my son, Jordan, I would have shot them all the minute I walked in the house. I had to give it to her; my mom really had it together.
“Pat!” she yelled.
“Yes, ma’am.” Pat stepped closer as my mother rose from her seat.
“Me and my family are going home. I have to make dinner before my husband comes home.” She gave him a hug, then looked him in the eyes. “I trust you and your friends can handle these gentlemen to my satisfaction.”
Damn! I had never realized it, but my momma was a real gangster.
Pat glared at the them, slamming his fist into his palm like he couldn’t wait to start delivering the pain. The four people on the sofa jumped.
“Oh, yeah. We’ll handle them all right.”
“Thank you, but please don’t kill them. A short hospital visit will be fine,” she said—and on that note, my mother walked out with us following behind. I could hear Vaughn and his friends pleading for mercy as I shut the door behind me.
KD
23
By the time the sun rose, I was already showered, dressed, and pouring myself a cup of coffee.
I’d always been an early riser. There was something about sleeping past 6 a.m. that made me feel lazy. If the sun was up, I should be too. Besides, I had too much planning and preparation for my upcoming event to be lying in bed.
“Morning, Daddy.” Tyler came into the kitchen wearing his bathrobe and slippers.
“Morning, son. What time you boys get in last night?”
“I guess about two, two thirty. We stopped off at the Horseshoe and had a couple of beers.”
“And some pussy,” I added with a laugh.
He laughed too. “Well, yeah, we got some of that too. Who says no to free pussy? Peter Lee got a new batch of girls for you and asked me and the boys to come over and try them out. I couldn’t say no to that.”
I chuckled. Damn boy was just like his old man, loved to fuck.
“So, were they mostly beaners? I ain’t pay that Chinaman to bring me beaners,” I snapped. Being close to the border, it was easy for Lee to get Mexicans and Central Americans, but I needed a higher class of whore for my business.
“No, mostly Asian, but he had a few black ones too. There was one black girl with big titties that looked like your type, Daddy.”
“How big?” It was early, but the boy had my attention. “As big as Celeste?”
“No, sir! That Celeste has some of the biggest titties I’ve ever seen.” He shook his head.
My face lit up at the thought. “Me too, and I been around a lot longer than you.”
We both had a good laugh.
“Lemme go get dressed. It’s almost time for work.”
I stood at the kitchen window, looking out at the fields. When I heard a car door slam around the side of the house, I put down my coffee and left the kitchen. I needed to see who the hell was at my house at this time of day.
I picked up my .38 just in case, then opened the front door and stepped onto the porch to see an El Paso Sheriff’s Department cruiser parked alongside it.
“What the hell are you doing on my damn property this early?” I growled. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”
“Morning, Sheriff—uh, I mean KD.” A tall, lanky man in an El Paso Sheriff’s uniform approached me. I recognized Roscoe Thomas immediately. He’d started out with me back when I was the sheriff. He was actually pretty lazy, which was a big part of why I’d helped him get elected. I didn’t want anyone I couldn’t keep under my thumb snooping around my place or my businesses. Tyler had wanted to run for sheriff of El Paso a few years back, but he was much too valuable to me as a highway patrolman, where he had jurisdiction all over the state, so Roscoe was the next best thing.