by Roy Glenn
“Damn, I love watching them,” he said, grabbed the bottle and sat down next to me.
Anya took the bottle from him. “You don’t pour no drinks up in here,” she said and poured him a drink. Then she refreshed mine and went back to dancing for me.
Me and Bobby stayed in there drinking, smoking, getting blown and talking about what was going on until the place closed at seven in the morning. At that point, me and Bobby agreed that it would probably be safer if we didn’t go home and stayed at a hotel. So, we got more guns and ammo and the six of us went to a hotel with a two-bedroom suite.
The next afternoon, the phone in the suite was ringing and since I had called and told him where we were, I knew that it was Nick calling. He said that him and Freeze caught Wyclef Ali at The Blue Room and they had him tied up in the storage room. When me and Bobby got there, Nick and Freeze were beating him.
When I asked, “He tell you anything?” Nick and Freeze started laughing and I wondered why.
“No,” Freeze stopped laughing long enough to say.
“And that’s only because we haven’t asked him anything,” Nick said and then they both started laughing again.
I looked at Bobby and we started laughing too. I pulled a chair up in front of him. “Take the gag out.”
“I swear, Black, I didn’t have nothing to do with it,” Wyclef said the second Nick pulled the gag out.
“I haven’t asked you anything,” I said, and everybody laughed. “So, what don’t you have anything to do with?”
“Whatever it is, I ain’t got nothing to do with it and I don’t know nothing about it.”
“That’s amazing,” Bobby laughed.
“Tell me about Whitey?” I asked, and his expression and posture changed.
“Okay, Black, on the real, I owe Whitey ten G’s but I was gonna pay him. I swear, Black, I got the money, you can have it, just don’t kill me, please. I’m begging you.”
“Shut up. Whining like a little bitch.”
“Okay, Black, I’ll shut up. Just don’t kill me, please Black and don’t let them two hit me no more, they—”
“Wyclef!” I yelled. “Shut the fuck up or I will kill you.”
“Okay, Black,” he said, and I took out my gun.
I put the barrel to his head. “You say one more fuckin’ word and I will kill you now. Understand?”
Wyclef nodded his head.
“Now, tell me about Kasim?” I said, and Wyclef just sat there.
“He’s afraid to say anything, Mike,” Bobby laughed and punched him in the face. “Answer the man.”
“Kasim,” Wyclef paused. “What about him?”
“Bobby.”
Bobby punched Wyclef in the face twice.
“Tell me about Kasim?”
“Pakistani dude. Came here from France after he was acquitted of attempted murder.”
“What he do?” Nick asked.
“He shot the two gunmen that ambushed him. His daddy owns a car dealership, but he’s running heroin outta there.”
“You know anything else about him?”
Bobby punched him.
“Something I can use.”
Bobby punched him.
“Where he lives?”
Bobby punched him.
“Where this dealership is?” I asked, and Bobby punched him again.
“I don’t know where he lives, but he does business outta the Cadillac dealership on Jericho Turnpike,” Wyclef said.
“Gag him,” I said and stood up. “Oh, by the way, Whitey’s dead. So that money is mine.” I turned to Nick and Freeze as I heard the sound of Wyclef trying his best to say something. “Take this bitch to get my money.”
“What you want me to do with him after that?” Nick asked.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said and walked away.
“I guess that means you’re gonna die,” I heard Freeze say and Nick laughed.
Chapter Seventeen
When we left the office, and went out in the club, as it always is, The Blue Room was packed with half-naked women.
“What you wanna do now?” I asked Bobby.
“Honestly?”
“Is there any other way to be?”
Bobby stopped, looked around the club and then he pointed. “I wanna strip her naked and fuck the shit outta her until she screams, I can’t take no more,” he said of a rail thin woman with an ass that made you wanna follow her around. “But we need to check out this Kasim mutha fucka, and make another run at finding Lisa Benson. But, I would much rather be tapping her on the head and telling her to concentrate.”
“I hear you,” I said as we passed a woman with big titties and a nice ass.
I stopped to look.
She stopped to look.
I shook my head. “Maybe another time,” I said to her and kept walking, thinking that there was a time − business or not − I would have taken her to the nearest dark spot and bent her fine ass over. But this was the new me; disciplined, under control and focused. I got in the car with Bobby thinking that the new me won’t have as much fun, but he would definitely get more shit done.
“You think they’re still open?” Bobby asked when we got in the car.
“They probably stay open until nine,” I said.
“He probably stays open after regular business hours for his other business.”
“It’s after seven … really is too late to ride out to the island.”
“Lisa Benson, it is,” Bobby said and drove in that direction.
On the way to Lisa’s apartment, I thought about everything that’s happened since I got back from the islands. Thinking that I left sunshine, great food, the beach, and an abundance of pussy to come back here to get shot at. But the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that it has something to do with either me and Whitey or Bobby and Whitey.
“But what?” Bobby asked.
“I don’t have a clue,” I said and laughed a little. “We ain’t did nothing but make money together since—”
“I know, I know, the Mitchell Wright thing.”
“What about you?”
“Me and Whitey ain’t never did anything together, business or personal.”
We got out of the car, went in the building and walked up to her floor. Almost at the same time, me and Bobby took out our guns. We put our silencers on as we walked down the hall.
“Ready?” Bobby asked.
“Let’s do it.”
While I covered his back, Bobby aimed his weapon at the door and then he knocked on it. There was no answer.
Again.
We walked away from Lisa’s door, but neither of us put our guns away. Once we got to the door, both of us stopped and looked at the other.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Bobby asked.
“If you’re thinking that mutha fuckas might be waiting for us to come out, yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
“So, what do we do?” I asked.
“You could step out and see if you get shot.”
“Or, you could.”
“True, true, but I gotta admit, I am a little reluctant, you know, after the last time.”
“I got an idea,” I said and took the silencer off my gun.
“What you gonna do?”
“Hopefully,” I said and stepped to the door. “Find out if anybody is out there waiting for us.”
I cracked the door, stuck the gun out and fired a few shots. When nobody fired back, I assumed that it was safe for us to leave the building.
“You used to fuck this hoe, where does she hang out?”
Bobby looked at me crazy. “I wasn’t hanging out with her, I was fucking her. She brought that pussy to me, we ain’t ever go anywhere.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“The Late Night.”
“So, where you wanna go now?”
“Let’s check out Tamiko’s. I remember her saying that
her cousin or somebody worked there,” Bobby said, and he drove in that direction.
Tamiko’s was a hole in the wall bar off the avenue that was frequented by low rent, neighborhood drug dealers, chilly pimps and their hoes, so it was as good a place as any to start. Like most places around the way, the atmosphere in the joint changed when me and Bobby walked in. That works to our advantage in a number of ways, but that night it meant that it was easy to find somebody that told us that Marquez Hernandez liked to hang out at a place called Sympatico’s, a Cuban-American restaurant with a salsa dance club.
When we got to Sympatico’s, one of the first people I saw standing at the bar was Gomez Estaban. Him and Andre had an understanding that neither would do business in the other’s territory. An understanding that me and Bobby have had to enforce a number of times over the years, so he respected us, and we respected him.
“Black, Bobby!” Gomez shouted when he saw us. “Drink with me!” And he loved to drink with us.
“With pleasure!” Bobby shouted back.
“How are you, Gomez?” I asked.
“Very good, Black.” He put his arm around me and then Gomez pulled me close enough to smell the tequila on his breath. “Wondering if you are here on business?”
“Business, my friend. Always business. But not with you.”
“Then give these men whatever they’re drinking!” Gomez shouted and threw some money down on the bar. “Remy Martin, isn’t it?”
“As long as it’s cognac,” Bobby said.
“I didn’t know that this place was yours,” I said. “I mean no disrespect, but—”
“Papa.”
“Excuse me, Black,” he said. “My young son, Diego.” Gomez shook his head. “He is a boy who has yet to learn not to interrupt men when they are talking business, my friend. He lacks manners and respect.”
“Kids today, what are you gonna do,” I said as Bobby tapped me on the shoulder.
“Bone Crusher is here,” he said with a smile and pointed at Lewis ‘Bone Crusher’ Simpson. Six feet, six inches of the dumbest mutha fucka known to man. Then Bobby rushed off, because he likes fuckin’ with his dumbass.
“I mean you no disrespect, Gomez, but that is the business we came for,” I said and went after Bobby.
“What’s up, big boy?” Bobby said and tapped him in the back of his big head. Bone Crusher turned slowly.
“What’s up, Bobby?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“What’s up, Black?” Bone Crusher said when he noticed me. Bobby tapped him on the forehead.
“I was talkin’ to you.”
“Sorry, Bobby.”
“That shit was fuckin’ disrespectful.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Fuck that, big boy,” Bobby tapped him on the forehead again. “I need you to tell me what’s up.”
“What you wanna know?”
“I can fly but I have no wings, I can cry but I have no eyes and wherever I go, darkness follows me. What am I?” Bobby said, and I shook my head.
“Huh?”
“Stay with me, big boy. I’m gonna say this slowly, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I can fly but I have no wings, got that?” Bone Crusher nodded. “I can cry but I have no eyes, and wherever I go darkness follows me. What am I?”
“You’re Bobby and that’s Black,” Bone Crusher said, and I laughed.
“No, big boy.” Bobby tapped his forehead a few times. “It’s a riddle and the answer is, I’m a cloud.”
“I don’t get it, Bobby,” Bone Crusher said and looked confused. It was starting to get old.
“Crusher!” I shouted to get his attention.
“What?”
“Where’s Marquez?”
Bone Crusher stood up. “Why you wanna know?”
“I’m looking for Lisa Benson.” I stepped to his chest.
“Why you looking for her?”
“What business is that of yours?”
Bone Crusher paused, to think about the question, I guessed. “Why you wanna know?”
“Do you know where Marquez or Lisa are?”
“Why you wanna know?” he asked and pushed me.
Bobby punched him in the side and I punched him in the face. He looked at me like it didn’t faze him. He reached back and hit me so hard that I had to steady myself.
Bone Crusher was a big fucka and strong as hell, so it just made him madder when Bobby hit him in the back with a chair. Bone Crusher picked Bobby up and threw him to the ground. When he pulled Bobby to his feet, I took out both of my guns and jumped on his back. I began hitting him over and over in the head and shoulders while Bobby hit Bone Crusher with blow after blow until he went down.
We stood over Bone Crusher, kicking him and then I got on top and slammed Bone Crusher’s face into the floor a few times. When I stood up, Bobby began to stomp Bone Crusher again. I pulled Bone Crusher up again and rammed him face first into a table.
Bone Crusher struggled to his feet and came running toward Bobby. When he stepped aside, I grabbed Bone Crusher and rammed him into a wall. Bobby hit him with lefts and rights to his face, and then threw a punch to the stomach that took all the wind out him.
Now that we had Bone Crusher dazed; and everybody’s attention, I pointed my gun at his head.
“I have had a really fucked up day and this dumbass wanna fuck with me.” I punched Bone Crusher. “Now I’m looking for Lisa Benson!” I shouted.
Bobby punched Bone Crusher in the face and then kicked him in the nuts. He dropped to his knees. “Anybody seen her?”
“Anybody know where she is?” I shouted and hit Bone Crusher in the head with my gun. When nobody answered, Bobby hit Bone Crusher in the back of his head with the butt of his gun and the Crusher hit the floor face first and hard.
And that’s when I saw my girl sitting in a booth with another fine-ass woman.
Chapter Eighteen
Her name was Lillian, but everybody called her Babygirl. She grew up around the way, so I had known her for a long time. Babygirl was a hustler whose specialty was convincing dumb mutha fuckas that they wanted to give her all their money. And honestly, there wasn’t nobody better at that shit than Babygirl.
“What’s up, baby boy?” Babygirl asked as soon as I got to her table.
“Ain’t nothing, Lillian. What’s up with you?”
“What I tell you about calling me by my government name?” Babygirl turned to Bobby; he was sweating the woman that was with her. “What’s up, Bobby?”
“Wondering why you ain’t introduced me to your friend?”
Babygirl stood up and stepped closer to Bobby. Despite her size, Babygirl feared nothing and took shit from nobody.
“Because I promised her that I wouldn’t introduce her to no low down, dirty niggas today.”
“Then you definitely don’t want to introduce her to either of us,” Bobby said and slid in the booth next to her. “I’m Bobby Ray.”
“Knives.”
“What?”
“Call me Knives,” she said, and Bobby laughed.
“Why they call you that?” he asked still laughing.
“Because I will cut a nigga down to the white meat,” Knives said and me and Bobby laughed.
“Anyway,” I said and looked at Babygirl. “I’m looking for Lisa Benson.”
“So I heard … and saw. You gonna kick my ass until I tell you too, baby boy?”
I laughed. “Do I have to?”
“Shit no, baby boy. You know you can have anything you want from me.”
“So you know where I can find Lisa Benson?”
Babygirl shrugged her shoulders. “You try her apartment?”
“We been there twice,” Bobby said.
“You do know she moved, right?” Babygirl asked.
“No, I did not know that,” I said.
Now that we were at the right place, I knocked on the door and we waited to see if somebody was going to an
swer.
“Somebody’s in there. I hear noises,” Bobby said.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Bobby,” he said and stuck his face in front of the peek hole. “Mike is with me and we need to talk to you about something important.”
It took a few seconds before she said, “Just a minute. I gotta put something on, okay?”
“No, you don’t,” Bobby said, and we waited.
It couldn’t have been much more than a minute before Lisa cracked opened the door wearing a white silk robe with a geisha on it that tied in the front with a sash.
“What you want, Bobby?” she asked, standing in front of the door.
“Can we come in?” Bobby asked politely, which was rare for him. Push you out the way, that was more Bobby’s style.
“What you want?”
“I told you,” and that was when Bobby pushed her out of his way. “We need to talk to you,” he said and walked in.
I followed him into the apartment slowly, looking around.
“Hello, Lisa.”
“Hey, Mike,” Lisa said and sat down on the couch with Bobby right on her.
I picked a spot by the door where I could see the entire room and stood with my back against the wall.
“What you need to talk about?” Lisa asked defiantly.
“About Whitey,” Bobby said standing over her.
“What about him?”
“He’s dead.”
“What you say?”
“I said, he’s dead.” Bobby repeated.
I looked at Lisa, watched her facial expression change.
Especially her eyes.
“When?” Lisa asked quickly. She appeared to be shocked, so I don’t think she knew about it.
“Last night at his spot,” Bobby told her.
“How did it happen?” she asked, but Lisa wasn’t shaken.
“Three men walked up on him, one said payback time and they shot him. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Bobby asked.
“Me? Why would I …” Lisa looked up at me.
“Why would you what, Lisa?” I asked.