Hard Betrayal (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series 2)

by Jason Stanley

  “Don’t go getting paranoid,” Sugar said. “There’s a rumor you’ve got a beef with some of the hos in the hood. Word is, a couple women pulled guns on you and shot you in the balls.”

  “Who told you that? What’d they say?”

  “They said you’re seriously pissed and probably gonna get back at them for what they done.”

  “They’re right about that shit,” he said. “I’ll jack them bitches, big time.”

  “Can’t say I blame you.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “How you gettin’ back at them?”

  Brows compressed, Jerome glanced sideways through slitted eyes. “Why’re you all up in my bidness? How do I know you ain’t with those hos that jacked me?”

  “You’re right. You’re too smart to tell me what your plan is, just because I ask. I’m asking because I need your help with a little something I got going on. Well, actually, it’s not me. D’andre wants to discuss a deal with you.”

  “What kind of deal?” Jerome asked.

  “That’s between you and him. He doesn’t tell me the important stuff. What do you say, you coming or not?”

  “Sure, why not? Nothing personal, but I don’t trust you. I’ll follow you in my car.”

  “That was my plan all along,” Sugar said, and she walked off toward her SUV.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Jerome parked behind Sugar in front of her apartment building, then quick-stepped to catch up with her. “This where you and D’andre live?”

  “Yeah.” A small smile quirked one corner of her mouth.

  A few more steps brought them to an arched gate leading into an open courtyard in the middle of the apartment complex. A short, stocky man stood by the entrance. The man nodded to Sugar. She nodded back and kept walking.

  “What’s up?” Jerome tried to walk past him.

  The man blocked his way. “No you don’t.”

  “What? I’m with Sugar, and I got business with D’andre.”

  “She didn’t say nothing about that, D’andre ain’t said nothing to me, and I don’t know you. So, not yet, you don’t. You go in when I’m good with you going in, and I ain’t satisfied yet. You strapped?”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  The man held out his hand.

  “Fuck that! I’m not giving you shit.”

  With a small shrug, the man kept his hand out.

  After a short staring contest, Jerome turned over his 9mm. “I want that back.”

  “Anything else?” the man asked.

  “No.”

  “You hear that shit about the smoke?”

  “No. What smoke?”

  “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. I got me some smoke here in my hand. More fire might be packed away. You ain’t going in until I pat you down.”

  “Fuck this. Gimme my gun back. I don’t need any of your shit. You fucking people asked me here. I didn’t ask to come. Give me my fucking gun. I’m outta here.”

  Sugar came up beside them. “It’s okay, T, let him in.”

  The man stepped aside. “Go on.”

  “You goddamned right, go on.”

  Under his breath, Jerome repeated, “I was asked to come here to discuss a business deal.”

  Jerome did his best to make his limp from having his ball shot off, look like a cool pimp-walk. They released him from the hospital, but it still hurt like hell to move very much. Playing it off, he went into the courtyard where D’andre lounged in a heavy, metal patio chair with green-striped cushions.

  He sat under a large umbrella standing in a steel base, with his back to the wall and holding a brightly colored plastic glass with condensation running down the sides. An ornate, steel table with a glass top and another large umbrella that came up through the hole in the middle matched his chair and three others. The two umbrellas overlapped, providing a small oasis of shade amid the cement courtyard’s odor of dust mixed with oil, like hot asphalt.

  “Hey, bruh, good you came over.” D’andre waved to the surrounding chairs. “Pull up a seat. Sugar, pour some tea for Jerome.”

  She filled a glass with ice from a cooler under the table, poured some tea from an Igloo jug, and handed the drink to Jerome.

  Jerome gulped down half of the tea. “Good idea.” He held up his glass. “It’s hot as hell out here. Why are you out here in the heat? Isn’t one of these apartments yours?”

  “I like being out here where I can see what’s coming. Sugar don’t like me bringing my business in the house, neither. Says it upsets her fish.”

  Jerome made a show of relaxing into his chair. “Yeah, I can see that. Can’t be having no nervous fish.”

  “Right. You know how women are about their fish — one of them goes belly up, they get all weepy.” D’andre shot a single, imaginary round with his hand. “I just throw the fucker in the toilet and get a new one.”

  Jerome glanced at Sugar, who shrugged. “Guess I’m more sentimental about dead meat than D is.”

  “I didn’t ask you to come over to talk about dead fish, though. I asked, so we can do some business. Seriously, bruh, I’m glad you showed. I got a little something coming down, and this deal I’m working on could be good for both of us.”

  D’andre smiled big and clinked glasses with Jerome.

  “All right, sounds good. We’ve always been cool with each other, but never friends, so why now?”

  “You’re right, you’re right. We ain’t never been tight, but I still know who you are, and I respect you. You’ve been a down brother in the hood. Never do no stupid shit like be a snitch or a dope fiend. You be the real deal. You can be trusted to do what you say you’re gonna do.”

  “You know how it is,” Jerome bragged. “Gotta lay things down like they are for real.”

  “I’m coming to you because you got this thing going on with these women, and this little problem between you and them can help me. You do me this solid and I’ll put you in a regular spot in my organization. Not just no runner, neither; I’ll set you up with your own crew. I’m expanding my area and need good men like you. You interested?”

  “Sure, tell me what you got in mind.”

  D’andre smiled, and he poured himself and Jerome more tea. “My man! What’d I tell you?” He turned to Sugar. “I told you Jerome would be down on this business.” Back to Jerome, he said, “I know I can trust you to be quiet on this, right?”

  “Of course.” Jerome leaned in. “I get how this move can get some people’s asses shot off. I’m good with that. You can trust me not to talk to nobody.”

  “See, I knew you’d be the right man to deliver.”

  Jerome eased back into his chair, drank some tea, and nodded knowingly.

  “With both Jackson and Lewis gone,” D’andre said, “I’m making a run at the top. Not a single piece or even two, but the whole fucking pie. To put everything together the right way, I need some solid men like you. You step up now, and I’ll take you with me, right to the top. What do you say?”

  “Sure, I’m in. What do you need from me?” Jerome smiled, like he’d just made a life-changing deal.

  “I can tell you ain’t no punk that wants to be left out of the heavy shit. But I gotta ask you to do something real important. When the big hit comes down, you and your crew will be at another place. I can’t trust this to just anybody. In fact, nobody else can do the job like you.”

  “D, honey,” Sugar interrupted. “I gotta make some calls to check on those people we talked about earlier.” She left the table.

  “Now listen, Jerome, this is the deal: I need you to pull a couple guys from BamBam’s crew off on an important mission, but they can’t know how special this is or why you want them to go with you. To do this right, we gotta play it real smart. But here’s the great thing: these are solid dudes, been around a long time, and they’ll make a down crew for you when everything comes together. They’re only with BamBam because Lewis got capped. They don’t like his ass any more’n I do.”

/>   “So, after the shit’s done,” Jerome said, “I’ll have my own crew and will be working as a top lieutenant in your organization, like Lewis was with Jackson?”

  “You do me this solid, and I’ll move you right up — bam! — you can go from hanging in the park to running it.”

  “I could have the business at the park?”

  “Hell, yes. When BamBam’s gone, it’ll be up for grabs, and who better than someone who’s already up on everything going down over there? You and your crew could start at the park, and after that, well . . . we’ll figure it out a piece at a time. First, we gotta get you set up with these guys.”

  “Who are they, and why would they want to hook up with me?”

  “Oh man, you’re gonna love this. Sugar done set them up. They’re already pissed and looking to do some business exactly like what you got against those hos that tried to shoot off your shit. Do you know Willie and Terrance?”

  “Yeah right, I’ve seen them around. They’re all right. How do I get in touch with them?”

  “That’s up to you,” D’andre said and held his tea glass up in a salute.

  Jerome clinked his own against D’andre’s one more time. “You can count on me. This shit is as good as done.”

  * * *

  After Jerome left, T, the guy at the gate, moved to sit in the shade where D’andre had earlier lounged while D’andre went inside the cool apartment where Sugar sat watching TV.

  “Are you really putting Jerome in your crew?” Sugar asked.

  “Naw, he’s a stupid lop,” D’andre said. “Did you see how he ate up that shit about him being down in the hood and running the business at the park? Like I’d ever respect a punk like him. A man’s gotta earn respect, and he’s got no respect because he never earned none.”

  “You think he’ll do it?”

  “Hella yeah. He almost shit when I said he’d have his own crew. He’ll do anything I ask him to do. This’ll work out just like we planned. I’ll keep him around for little stuff later. Ain’t no thang. He won’t last long anyway. Guaranteed, some shit will come down after this, and he’s too stupid to figure out he’ll be on point. Right there out front, he’ll be the first fool capped.”

  * * *

  “Man, slap down that bone or get outta the game. You been sitting there all afternoon looking like you’re about to bust a gut. What’s on your mind that’s got you so pleased with yourself?”

  After leaving D’andre’s, Jerome joined an ongoing game of dominoes in the park, not yet having figured out how to break in with Terrance and Willie. Now, thinking about it, he couldn’t focus on the game. “I got some big business coming down, but I can’t talk about it. After everything gets set, you’ll see what it’s all about.”

  “Yeah right, you got some big business. The only business you got, is to decide on what you’re gonna do with that bone you’re holding on to like it was some free ticket to see Aretha. Now make your move.”

  Just then, Scooter ran up to Jerome, eyes bugged out, face flushed.

  “Hey, man, I gotta talk to you about some way-out shit!”

  Jerome abandoned his losing game of dominoes, “Let’s conversate over there,” and pointed with his chin to an empty cement table about fifty feet away, asking, “What up, dog?” as he strutted toward it.

  “You know Terrance and Willie?” Scooter asked. “They’re in Bam’s crew and work the corner off Forty-Third Street.”

  “Uh-huh, I’ve seen them around.”

  “I was over at Popeye’s, and they were talking loud about how they’re real pissed at a couple hos. Said the hos jacked them for their money. But what they’re super pissed about is those skanks roofied them.”

  “That so? Did you talk to them?”

  “No, I overheard them. But it’s what they said. I sat at the next table and could hear everything.”

  “How mad did they sound?” Jerome asked.

  “Deep-mad, like they’re ready to do something.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “I don’t know,” Scooter said. “Maybe still at Popeye’s, or they could be back on their corner.”

  Jerome tossed his car keys to Scooter. “You drive. Let’s go find them.”

  “Me?” Scooter’s eyes lit up. “I thought you said nobody ever drove your ride.”

  “Well, my man, you just got promoted. There’s a lot of that going around. Stick with me and you’ll be seeing more promotions real soon.”

  In Jerome’s Sebring, Scooter adjusted the seat and mirrors. “Where to first?”

  “Head over to Forty-Third. They should be out selling to people getting off work.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Scooter pulled up to the corner where Willie stood and squinted into the evening sun, catching eyes with people in passing cars. Jerome leaned out his open window. “A-yo, Willie, got a minute I can holla with you?”

  “Sup, Jerome? You looking to buy?” Willie asked.

  “Naw, it’s not like that. I got something else to discuss with you and yo’ homie, Terrance.”

  “About what?”

  “It’s got to do with a special job; something personal. Where’s Terrance?”

  “Over there.” Willie cut his eyes to the alley off to the side. “Yo, T, come here!” he yelled, and waited for Terrance to join them before asking Jerome, “So, what’s on your mind?”

  “I hear we’ve got something in common about wanting to get even with a couple hos,” Jerome said.

  “I’m gonna make them bitches pay, big time, for the shit they pulled,” Willie said.

  “I can help you with that,” Jerome said. “I’ve got a real issue with a couple bitches, myself. They fucking shot me in cold blood when I was unarmed and couldn’t protect myself. Lucky I got away alive. Now that I’m out of the hospital and have my strength back, they got some payback coming.”

  Like most cowards, when Jerome told the story, it changed dramatically. In his version, he was a hero.

  “They’re crazy bitches who won’t stop until someone jacks them really bad,” Jerome said. “I’d take care of this business alone, but I don’t wanna kill nobody, and they’re always strapped. If I go after them with a gun, it’ll only end with them being dead, and that means doing time. I’m not afraid of prison, it’s just these bitches ain’t worth it, is all.”

  “You ever do time?” Willie asked.

  “Naw, too smart to be caught,” Jerome bragged.

  “So, what do you want with me and Willie?” Terrance asked.

  “I’m thinking we could team up. I help you do those bitches that jacked you, and you help me.”

  .

  Seven: A Little Help, Please

  MICHELLE CAME IN THE BACK DOOR through the kitchen. She spotted T-Dog’s blond streaks and a piece of her tattoo on her shoulder blade. A small fairy sat on a dragon’s head peeking out of her sleeveless top.

  Athletic, average build, and dangerous; T-Dog was not a woman to surprise from behind. Michelle walked past the table, turned and faced her.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

  Michelle sat down. “What’s up?”

  T-Dog looked back over her shoulder. “Is Nikky coming?”

  “She’s on her way. I haven’t eaten yet. I’m gonna order something while we wait. You want anything?”

  T-Dog glanced at her coffee mug. “Naw, I’m good.”

  Shortly after Michelle finished eating Nikky rushed in and grabbed a seat. “Sorry it took me so long. I had to drop off some money with my kid sister at school. Place is a zoo. What’s up?”

  “Don’t know.” Michelle shrugged. “We waited for you.” She turned to T-Dog, “Well?”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” T-Dog said. “I feel like the lousy po-po. Their sorry asses are always talking about how they can’t arrest a muthafucka who’s headed for trouble but hasn’t said or done nothing yet. They wait until the brother pulls the trigger, and then, shit, it’s too late for everyone.�
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  “I hear you. That’s some crazy shit,” Michelle said.

  T-Dog, and Michelle had been inside Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles long enough the strong smells of fried chicken, chicken-fried steak and biscuits, and chicken gravy had all faded into the background.

  T-Dog held a cold cup of forgotten coffee. “Damn. I’m worried someone I care about is in line for something bad, and I can’t let that happen. The hell of it is, I don’t know who or what. It’s just a bad feeling and I’m getting super pissed. Fucking rat bastard Jerome. I’m thinking I need to off him before somebody else gets hurt.”

  “Not now,” Michelle said. “There’s already so much history with him being with Deja all that time, then getting his ball shot off, the police are up in everyone’s business. If anything new happens, they’ll be all over me.”

  “Okay,” T-Dog said. “I understand why we can’t take him out, straight-up. Got any ideas on what we can do? I’m serious. There’ll be hell to pay for a lot of people if this blows back and one of my girls gets hurt. Also, know this” —she leveled a strong flat stare at Michelle— “The women who got us into this mess will pay a price, too.”

  “Are you saying we have a problem?”

  “I’m saying my crew could be in danger and needs to be protected, and I’m holding you partly responsible.”

  “Yeah,” Michelle said. “Be nice if the Cosby’s lived next door. We’d all be rich and famous and Jerome never would have acted a fool. Be nice if my friends hadn’t been hurt. But none of that is real. People did get hurt, and more might. So, we gotta do what we gotta do.

  “You’re right,” T-Dog said. “I agree, you do whatever’s necessary, even if it means doing less than you really should. And now, before someone else gets hurt, it’s necessary that this asshole goes. So, again, how do we deal with this piece of shit?”

  “We’ll put eyes on him, find out if he’s hanging with anyone new. That’ll tell us if anyone’s buying his bullshit.”

  “Any word from Sugar?” Nikky asked.

  “Not really,” T-Dog answered. “I asked her if any of the street girls had seen Jerome around, and she said nobody told her nothing.”