Power

by King, Joy Deja

“Word on the street is that your heroin is on some next level shit.”

  “And just think, I had to practically shove it down your throat for you to bite,” Isabella smiled. Alex stood and grabbed the bag from the table. As he was making his way to the other side of the room, Isabella stepped forward, blocking his movement. He could’ve gone around her, but he didn’t want to. He enjoyed their closeness. He was able to get a whiff of the expensive perfume that she always wore. It seemed to be just as intoxicating as her physical beauty. Isabella licked her lips in a delicate way, letting Alex know that she was all his if he wanted her.

  “Lock the door,” he directed, as a rush shot through him. He had no intention or even desire to deny their mutual attraction. Alex would no longer put up any resistance. Sometimes playing with fate was truly the ultimate high.

  * * *

  Deion handed 2Glocks fifty grand in counterfeit and then another twenty-five thousand real cash. They counted the money at Deion’s dining room table. “It’s all there,” Deion said.

  “Thank you, man.”

  “No need for that.”

  “I’m just grateful I can finally do something for my kids.”

  “I feel you on that, but I just want everything to go according to plan.”

  “It will. We good, bruh,” 2Glocks insisted without hesitation. Without responding, Deion heard his phone ring. It was Popcorn.

  “Yo. What’s good?”

  “We meeting today?”

  Deion knew he wanted to know if the product was here. “Probably not today.”

  “Let me know soon as you can, ‘cause I need that.”

  “Will do.” When Deion hung up the phone with Popcorn a text from Passion immediately popped up.

  Passion: Hey Daddy, can I meet up with you to get that money for your son?

  Deion had teased her that her son was his son.

  Deion: Of course baby.

  Passion: Where?

  Deion: Waffle House Old National.

  Passion: What time?

  “What time are we going to meet the Esses?” Deion asked 2Glocks.

  “In a couple hours.”

  Deion scanned his watch. It was four o’clock. He hit Passion back and told her around six. He figured after he finished things up with 2Glocks and the Esses, she would be his very next stop.

  * * *

  Passion sat in a booth inside the Waffle House eating pecan waffles and bacon when Deion and 2Glocks drove up in a yellow Lamborghini. Deion turned the ignition off but left the radio playing to keep 2Glocks occupied. Passion began grinning hard when Deion came in and sat across from her.

  “Why the big smile?”

  “Because every time I see you I feel like it’s Christmas.”

  “So now I’m Santa Clause.”

  “No, you’re more like my daddy who gets me everything I want for Christmas. Is that cool with you?”

  “If I’m your daddy, you know what that means?”

  “I’m afraid to hear what you gotta say.” Passion gazed at Deion affectionately, with the kind of eyes that girls had when they liked a guy. He bit down slowly on his bottom lip and at that moment, Passion wished she could kiss him. Not only was he looking fine as fuck, he was wearing cologne she recognized—Aventis by Creed. She didn’t remember him having that on the first time they’d met.

  “Me being your daddy won’t be that bad.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “I might have to spank you if you get out of line.”

  “Oooh. That sounds fun.”

  “We’ll make it fun.”

  “When are we going to New York?”

  “In a few days. I got some business I need to handle and then we out.”

  “What kind of business?” she pried.

  “We gettin’ kinda nosey, ain’t we?”

  Passion threw her hands up playfully and said, “Hey, I’m just asking you a question.” Deion gave her five one hundred-dollar bills, as if telling her to shut up, don’t ask him shit and just take the money. “Thank you, Daddy”

  “This ain’t for you, this is for my son,” he teased.

  “Well Demonte says thank you.”

  “Oh, that’s his name?”

  “That’s a damn shame, you don’t even know your son’s name,” Passion joked.

  “I need to meet him.”

  “So you plan on sticking around.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I hope so too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Quiet as kept, I’m so tired of the games these Atlanta Niggas be playing.” This conversation was getting a little too serious for Deion so he decided to change the direction it was going.

  “Hey, do you know a girl in the club named Paris?”

  “Yeah, the girl that introduced me to you.”

  “That’s her. I forgot about that.”

  “We’re not besties or nothing like that but I know her. Why?”

  “Give this to her,” he said, handing her a wad of cash.

  Passion counted the money. “Why are you giving this ho money?”

  “She danced for me.”

  “So you getting dances on credit?”

  “No. I accidently gave her the same counterfeit money I gave you.” Passion folded the money and stuffed it in her bra. Deion stood from the booth, leaned over, and kissed Passion on the cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

  “So when you gonna give me my spanking?”

  “Real soon. You can believe that. I’m gonna give you a spanking you’ll never forget.” Deion exited the Waffle House, got into the Lamborghini and pulled away.

  “Man, this Mexican has been texting the shit out of me,” 2Glocks informed Deion as soon as he got back in the car.

  “You told him we’re on our way, right?”

  “Of course I did, but the motherfucker is getting impatient”

  “Fuck him! We got what he wants. He wants this money.”

  “He wants us to meet him at the warehouse.”

  “Warehouse? What you talkin’ ‘bout?”

  “It’s the warehouse off Old National. It’s in the back of some office building, away from the road. Kinda in the cut.”

  “So you been there before?”

  “To a couple, but I’m telling you dude, these guys have warehouses of this shit. They in this deep.”

  “Guide me to the spot.”

  “Hold up, he just hit me again,” 2Glocks said.

  “What did he say?”

  “Come to the back of the warehouse and park between the blue pickup truck and the van.”

  “Cool.”

  Deion stopped to gas up the Lamborghini, so it took them twenty minutes and not the ten minutes that 2Glocks had promised. They drove to the back of the warehouse and maneuvered between the blue pickup and a black van. Deion recognized the young Mexican who had been at Jose’s house. This time he was wearing a blue headband and not the red one. His wife-beater exposed huge muscles and a tattoo of the Virgin of Guadalupe.

  Muscles signaled for them to get out of the car. Deion was getting the money together. It was in a computer bag on the floor of the car between his legs.

  “Hold on a second. Let me text Jose,” 2Glocks said, while Deion was getting the money.

  Muscles waved for them to get out of the car and he was looking impatient. “Give me a second,” 2Glocks yelled out, after rolling down the window. 2Glocks texted Jose while Deion skimmed through the money one last time to make sure it was all there.

  Muscles shouted something in Spanish, then flashed an AR-15. 2Glocks was the first to see what was going down and warned Deion. “Yo, get the fuck down!” 2Glocks warned. Sixteen shots entered into the
passenger side of the Lamborghini door.

  Deion grabbed his gun from his waist with his cell phone in his other hand. He opened the door, crawled out and dove underneath the car, his iPhone shattering. Between the commotion and gunfire he heard 2Glocks cry out, “I’m too young to die!”

  More shots continued to ring in the air, as both men tried not to get caught in the crossfire. Deion saw Muscles’ Air Jordans from underneath the car, but there was no way for him to get a good shot, plus he remembered there was a van on the other side of the car.

  “I’m gonna die. Please, somebody help me,” 2Glocks moaned. Deion wanted to help his friend but he had lost sight of Muscles. He heard somebody running but could no longer see the Air Jordans. He cocked his gun and crawled from underneath the car. Deion saw Muscles running but he was too far away to get a good shot at him.

  2Glocks was sprawled in the seat, his mouth open, his white t-shirt soaked in blood. Deion grabbed his hand and placed his thumb on his wrist but there was no pulse. His friend was dead. Deion looked at the scattered money on the floor but there was no time to gather it. He needed to call somebody but his screen was cracked. He couldn’t see his address book. He flipped his screen until he made it to his call log. Unable to see the contacts he pressed a random name and was relieved when he recognized Reggie’s voice on the other end of the phone.

  “I need you to come get me!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Man, it’s done went all bad. All motherfuckin’ bad. 2Glocks is dead.”

  “What?”

  “He just got murdered!”

  “How did this happen? Where you at?”

  “I’m at this warehouse on Old National”

  “Gotta be more specific than that, homie.”

  “I don’t know where the fuck I am. I can’t think right now. Just come and get me.”

  “So how did 2Glocks get—-”

  “Quit asking me all these fuckin’ questions,” Deion roared, cutting Reggie off mid-sentence. “Just come and get me, man. I’ll give you the details when you get here.”

  “I don’t know where to go.”

  “Do you know where the Waffle House is?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ma try to make it there.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “Cool.” Deion sprinted to the front of the building. No sign of the Mexicans, or anybody for that matter. He jogged in the direction of the Waffle House. Reggie was waiting in the parking lot in a Black Dodge Charger.

  “Not a word to Alex, man,” Deion said, as soon as he got in the car.

  “I ain’t’ saying shit. What happened?”

  “It’s a long fuckin’ story. Take me home, I just wanna get in bed.”

  “What about the car? What about 2Glocks?”

  “Nigga, we can’t go back over there tonight. This motherfucker was shooting something like an AR-15. I will worry about that shit in the morning.”

  There was so much Reggie wanted to ask Deion, but he didn’t; instead they rode in silence.

  Chapter 14

  This Can’t Be Life

  Alex received a call from an anonymous phone number and at first he didn’t answer. His phone rang again and this time he picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Alex.”

  “Who is this?”

  “This J.D.”

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Look man, I know what I did to you was wrong.”

  “You damn right it was wrong. I want my fuckin’ money, J.D., and if you ain’t talkin’ ‘bout my money, then get the fuck off my phone.”

  “Alex, I didn’t want to do that to you man. Really I didn’t, but I was in a lot of debt. I had to make the money up or else.”

  “J.D., you got my money or not? That’s all I need to know.”

  “I’m working on it, man.”

  “Call me back when the work is done and you got my bread, and I mean all of it.” Alex ended the call but his phone rang again. This time it was Joaquin.

  “Hey.”

  “Alex, watch the news in fifteen minutes.”

  “For what?”

  “Just watch the news. We will talk about it later.” Alex hung up with Joaquin and grabbed the remote. When he turned to the news he was instantly transfixed. He realized all that death Joaquin had warned him about was in full motion.

  * * *

  Alex had once again started his day Instagram-stalking Tierney. He scrolled through the pics of her posing damn near every which way but nude. She seemed to be enjoying herself in each shot, but one with her lounging on the back of a red Porsche held Alex’s attention, though he didn’t know why. Right when he was about to log out he noticed the license plate on the Porsche—ArkTEK. What the fuck? He couldn’t believe this shit. His ex was fucking the old-ass architect? His heart sank. Not because he wanted Tierney back, but because he knew that if it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have ever met the man. He tried calling her scandalous ass, but the number wasn’t working. Right when Alex was about to try another number he had on her, he saw Joaquin was calling.

  “The news is on,” Joaquin informed him for the second day in a row. Alex knew that meant there was more blood shed.

  “We have breaking news. An entire family was murdered in Southeast Atlanta,” the news anchorwoman said. Alex sat and listened as the female correspondent described the house and a family that had been murdered in an upscale neighborhood. One of the neighbors said the family pretty much kept to themselves, the kids were nice, and the man of the house had described himself as a music executive. That same neighbor said that he had noticed a lot of expensive cars like Rolls Royces and Bentleys, but hadn’t been alarmed by it because cars like that were a common sight.

  Alex shook his head thinking about Joaquin having the whole family wiped out. Though he didn’t know the murdered man he felt bad for the wife and the kids. He was about to power down his TV set when the anchor switched the story to another dead body being found in a yellow Lamborghini in the back of the Green Ridge warehouses and Business Park off Old National Highway. The man had apparently died of multiple gunshot wounds. Police were still investigating.

  Alex recognized that Lamborghini because it was the rental car he had begged Deion to take back. He immediately called him but didn’t get an answer. He kept dialing. The phone kept going to voicemail. He grabbed a t-shirt, pair of sweatpants and some sneakers and sprinted out the door. He had to find out if that was his partner.

  When Alex arrived at Deion’s crib, security called up but couldn’t get an answer. Because they knew who Alex was, they let him up anyway. Alex had to bang on the door for a few before Deion finally answered.

  “Man, you had my ass worried as fuck,” Alex scoffed, walking past Deion.

  “I was sleeping. The way you barging up in here, Reggie must’ve opened his big mouth and told you what happened,” Deion frowned, closing the door.

  “Nah, Reggie didn’t tell me shit.”

  “Then what got you so scared?”

  “I saw that damn bright-ass Lambo on the news wit’ a body being pulled out. Nigga, I thought that might be you.”

  Deion sat down on the sofa and put his head down. He buried his face in his hands for a second before speaking. “It wasn’t me, it was 2Glocks.”

  “Not 2Glocks. Who wanted that nigga dead?”

  “Man, this is all J.D. fault.”

  “J.D.?”

  “Yeah, that fake fuckin’ money he gave us. I can’t wait to kill that nigga.”

  “Just tell me what happened.”

  “Remember I told you that I gave some of that counterfeit money to the Mexican dude I bought that cocaine from?”

  “Yeah, I rem
ember that.”

  “When I mentioned it to 2Glocks he said Jose didn’t say shit to him about it and figured that they was bringing in so much paper he hadn’t noticed yet. Well, 2Glocks wanted to make another buy and when we got to the spot to meet them, they came out tryna kill motherfuckers. So clearly they already knew about the bootleg money and was pissed the fuck off.”

  “Damn! This shit done got ugly!”

  “I know. And Alex, don’t lecture me saying I should’ve never fucked wit’ those Mexicans on that coke shit. ‘Cause at the end of the day, if J.D. hadn’t fucked us over on that money then none of this shit would’ve went down.”

  “J.D. called me the other day too.”

  “And said what?” Deion questioned, rising up from the sofa, getting even more pissed that he wasn’t able to get his hands on J.D. right then.

  “He apologized saying he was wrong but he was in a lot of debt.”

  “Don’t nobody wanna hear that grown-ass man’s sad story. Fuck him!”

  “That’s basically what I said. I told him not to call me again until he got our money. But that still ain’t gone bring 2Glocks back and make shit right wit’ the Mexican dude you fuckin’ wit’.”

  “I know. And I damn sure gotta get that situation corrected.”

  “Why don’t you just tell him you don’t do business like that but somebody fucked you over and you want to give him back the money you owe and be done wit’ it.”

  “Man, you always make shit sound so easy. That nigga don’t want to hear nothin’ I got to say, and honestly at this point neither do I. I almost fuckin’ died and 2Glocks is dead.”

  “I feel you. So what you gon’ do?’

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “Yes I do, ‘cause what you do affects me too. You don’t think once the police trace that Lambo back to you, it’s gon’ put you on they radar?”

  “I got that covered. None of that paperwork is in my name. The dude I rented it from already got his story together when the police come knockin’.”

  “I hope you right. The last thing you want to be caught up in is a murder investigation.”