The Corner III (No Way Out)

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The Corner III (No Way Out) Page 17

by Alex Richardson


  Noonie and Boogie were at the end of the bar, and once the bartender brought their cognac, they talked over the bass of the rap Thug by Slim Thug.

  Boogie patted his small natural and said, “Man, look how these hoodrats and wanna-be gangsters run their asses on the dance floor whenever they play some hood shit.”

  Boogie was a drug dealer and from the hood, but he was also smart and didn’t get into much of the gangster shit. He had some shorties slanging crack and heroin for him and a handful of soldiers to protect what he had. It also didn’t hurt that he made money for Bone so if shit got to hairy that he couldn’t handle it, then Bone, who loved money, would.

  Noonie laughed. “I know, but there was a time when we both loved that shit,” he replied.

  Boogie gave him some dap saying, “Fo sho!” He downed his drink. “Ah, damn that’s some good shit.” He set the glass on the bar then said, “You know my sister asked about you.”

  “How she doing?”

  “Straight, besides that buster ass nigga she keep having them kids by.”

  “I forgot about that fake ass gangster. How many she have by his ass?”

  Boogie frowned as he held up four fingers.

  “Damn, she’s pumped ’em out every year since I kicked it with her,” Noonie said surprised. “Tell her I said what’s up, but keep it at that. You know I just had a shorty.”

  “No shit? Congrats, my nigga. So you and your girl going strong, huh?” Boogie said as he gestured to the bartender.

  “Yeah, she and my son are my life, nigga.”

  The bartender asked, “What you need, Boogie?”

  “Let me get two more shots.”

  Noonie said, “I’m good, Boog.”

  “One more. A toast to your son.”

  “Ahight.”

  The bartender poured their shot and they toasted.

  Boogie said, “Congrats, but on some serious shit.” He looked around then said, “Piece of info from my mouth to your ears, that nigga, Reynard, ain’t feeling that truce shit ya’ll and them Fuentes’ got going on. That’s Bone’s boy, but he ain’t feeling it, and I think that shit that just happened with him and your boy, Shaun, was just to get some shit started. I think he got some shit up his sleeve.”

  Noonie nodded and said, “I feel where you are coming from. That nigga still feels like me and my boys are the ones who shot him up, so I know he wants some get back.”

  “That’s what I’m saying, but Bone put a stop, or should I say a hold, on that shit because of the truce. With y’all getting your dope from the same supplier, man, money is pouring in. This shit ain’t like it was in the nineties when there were so many niggas on the streets selling, buying and using that you could have made a Tarzan movie. But money is being made.”

  “You got that right,” Noonie nodded as he noticed his boys getting ready to go.

  “What I’m saying is, Bone isn’t sharing like Reynard think he should, so I think he got something up his sleeve.”

  “Like taking over?”

  “I’m just saying,” Boogie said with a raised brow.

  “Good looking on the info, fam,” Noonie said as he gave Boogie some dap.

  “No doubt.”

  Noonie began to walk away, then stopped. He asked, “How do you know all this?”

  Boogie knowing what type of rapport he has with Noonie spread his arms and said, “I’m fucking his bitch. Give her some good dick and she’s one pillow talking hoe.”

  Noonie smiled and said, “My nigga.”

  * * *

  It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and LaTanza was at the Lincoln Park Zoo on N. Clark Street. She and Carlita were both dressed in jean shorts, low-top K-Swiss and a colorful knit shirt. Their hair was tied in a ponytail and they sported shades. Carlita’s by Disney and LaTanza’s by Channel. They had looked at the lions, monkeys, pandas and other creatures. They were taking time to eat a snack—hotdogs and a bag of Lay’s chips when Fernando and Liza, who were keeping a watchful eye on LaTanza and Carlita, but from a safe distance, joined them at their table.

  “This better be important,” whispered LaTanza. She looked irritated that she and her daughter were being interrupted.

  Liza pulled a stuffed animal out of her bag. It was one of Lincoln Park Zoo’s newest additions, a baby Eurasian Lynx, and began to play with Carlita to distract her from LaTanza and Fernando.

  “It was Chacho Mendoza’s people. They called and said he wants you to call him directly on his satellite phone tonight. They said to tell you it’s what you’ve been waiting for.”

  LaTanza managed a nonchalant smile then said, “Thanks, Fernando.” She glanced at her daughter who was admiring the stuffed lynx. She then said, “Carlita, I bought an ice cream maker. Do you want to go home and make some ice cream?”

  “Yeeesss!” Carlita said as she threw her arms in the air while still holding on to the stuffed Lynx.

  LaTanza knew how her daughter loved ice cream so she used that to get her to willingly to leave the zoo. She didn’t want to spoil her daughter’s fun, but she had to get home, make a few phone calls and get some things in motion in the city because she knew what the phone call was about. She had used a connection she had in Laredo, Texas, to set up Antoine Villarreal, the main supplier of cocaine and heroin to the Midwest. She knew Chacho would hand out swift justice to anyone who cooperated with DEA, or the Federalies as he called them.

  The four stood then LaTanza and Carlita walked away, but stopped to look at the monkeys, Carlita’s favorite, one more time. Fernando and Liza, as usual, were a safe distance away in case the Queenpin’s help was needed.

  * * *

  Reynard was stretched out on the queen-size bed. After the run in with Shaun at the club, he and his right hand man, Kenny, left and went to another spot, a pool hall on the west side where only people from that area frequented. Reynard felt like being around his people, but most of all he wanted to pick up a piece of ass he hadn’t hit before and what a better place to pick one up at than Tuffy’s pool hall. While drinking and shooting a couple of games, he and Kenny noticed two dark sistas staring at them. The women joined them for drinks and a few games of nine ball. The women could play, and hustling was their game. Not pool hustling though. Hustling a dope boy, and with Reynard and Kenny, they knew they had a couple of paid brothas.

  “Damn, what time is it?” Reynard said as the light shone through the cheap blinds into Notrie’s bedroom.

  The woman stirred, but didn’t answer. Reynard raised his torso and realized he was still clothed. He shook his head to gather his thoughts. He quickly reached for his ankle then felt relieved as he felt the steel of the small 9mm he had tucked in an ankle holster. He rubbed his temples then looked over at the woman laying beside him and smiled. His mind began to clear. The sight of the voluptuous woman in the t-shirt that had ridden up exposing her juicy round ass reminded him of the night. A night filled with him and Kenny chilling at the woman’s apartment with her and her friend while drinking Tequila and smoking blunts.

  “My clothes are still on, so I guess I didn’t get any pussy,” Reynard mumbled.

  He stood and stretched as his stomach growled. “Damn, I ain’t ate since ’bout six last night.” He glanced at the small digital clock on the cluttered dresser. He mumbled, “Fuck, it’s two in the afternoon. This bitch had some good ass weed to knock me out like that.”

  He walked out of the bedroom and saw Kenny who had on nothing but a t-shirt and socks. Country nigga, Reynard thought. He walked into the bathroom and noticed the woman, who Kenny had apparently fucked, had taken a shower and was drying off.

  “Damn, my fault. Didn’t know you were in here, “Reynard said while looking the heavy-set woman over.

  “No problem,” she said as she set the towel on the rack then slipped on a pair of panties and walked out. Saying “I’m about to cook something for your boy, you want something?”

  “Yeah, don’t matter I’m hungry than a mothafucka.”

&
nbsp; “Cool,” she said then went to her bedroom.

  Reynard’s dick had awakened at the sight of the woman’s nakedness. Her thick chocolate nipples and neatly trimmed bush was enough to turn him on, so he pissed, washed his hands and face then went back to the bedroom to wake Notrie from her slumber so he could get some. He definitely couldn’t be outdone by Kenny.

  Notrie finished giving Reynard some bomb head and was slipping the condom on his tool which was rock hard. She assumed the position, Reynard’s favorite. Most of her weight rested on her forearms and she was on her knees. Reynard stood behind her and liked the way her round ass shook when he smacked it.

  “Oooh, don’t be playing. Put it in me, baby,” Notrie cooed.

  Reynard’s cell rang, and he knew the ringtone, so with one hard thrust Reynard did. He stroked his thickness in and out as she moaned pleasure. He stroked and smacked her ass as he enjoyed the sight of his pole sliding in and out of Notrie. He then flipped her over, bent her legs damn near to her ears as he pounded hard touching every inch of her walls until he came.

  Reynard rolled off Notrie and she acted as if it was the best she’d had. Reynard was nonchalant about the situation. He wasn’t going to lie and tell her how good her shit was. He hadn’t made love to her, she was simply a fuck and he didn’t want her to think otherwise.

  “I’m ’bout to hit the shower. Can you fix me a plate of whatever your girl is in there cookin’ up? That shit smells good and I’m hungry.”

  “Sure, Rey.”

  Reynard thought for a second about how she’d called him ‘Rey’. Already she had a name for him. Little did she know he hated when people called him Rey. Reynard was his name, and that’s what he liked to be called. Rey reminded him of his father. That’s what they called the sorry ass man who used to hit him for no reason. That is, until Reynard shot and killed him in their Ida B. Wells project home when he was nine. He hid the weapon, sat and watched cartoons, until his mother came home. That’s when he whipped up some tears and told his mother that two men came in demanding money from his father then shot him.

  Reynard smiled and kissed the woman, who was sitting on the bed, on the forehead. “Thanks baby, “He told her then went to the bathroom to shower and call—LaTanza.

  * * *

  LaTanza was putting ice in the maker as Carlita waited patiently. They had made two flavors of ice cream—vanilla and strawberry.

  “Momma, this is fun. I love when we do things together! You are the best mommy in the whole wide world,” Carlita said.

  “You’re my world, and I do everything for you.”

  “Can we go see Daddy? He’s the best daddy in the world and I miss him. I want to see him today. Can we go see him? I wish he was home,” she pouted.

  Not wanting their happy mood to be spoiled, LaTanza said, “We can’t see him today, honey. It is too late, but I think you have a great idea of visiting him. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and it would be a good surprise, so how about we go visit, then afterwards we head out shopping?”

  The child’s demeanor returned to upbeat. “Okay, Mommy. Because I have to visit him, and that will make me a good daughter!”

  LaTanza thought about how smart her daughter was, but knew that was a given. She and Carlos were smart so she definitely has that gene.

  LaTanza clicked the on switch and the bucket began to turn as Carlita poured the vanilla mixture in and it immediately started to form into ice cream, then her cell rang. She checked the number and saw that it was Reynard.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “You rang?” he said.

  “We need to meet,” she told him.

  “Name the time and place. When and wherever is good for me.”

  “I’ll call you about six tonight and tell you where. Be ready.”

  “Is it that time?” he asked.

  “Six.”

  Reynard got a dial tone. She’d hung up the phone because she had nothing else to say because what she was planning had no room for error and that meant not talking on the phone about certain things because there was no telling who was listening.

  * * *

  It was dusk casting an orange haze over the city streets of the near west side. LaTanza sat in her E-class Mercedes as Fernando and Liza sat patiently in separate cars as protection as their boss met with the west side street gangster. As LaTanza waited, she made the call to Chacho.

  The satellite phone rang about ten times before a woman with a heavy Spanish accent answered in Spanish. When LaTanza spoke English the woman gave the phone to her boss.

  A jovial Chacho said, “My favorite woman in the America. And most beautiful I might add. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, and aren’t we in a good mood? You must have something good to tell me,” LaTanza replied.

  “Good mood, yes, I am because I see the future. You, no?”

  “It depends on what you have to tell me.”

  “I want you to fly to Mexico in a couple of days. Spend a day on my yacht—”

  “Oh, this must be good if you are going to finally let me on your baby.”

  Chacho sipped a glass of wine then said, “Like I said, we have things we need to talk about. I’ll run them past you and then you return to the Midwest and decide. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

  Keeping a steady businesslike voice, LaTanza said, “I do, Chacho.”

  “Good. We’ve said enough on the phone. Make flight arrangements, call back and leave your flight information with the woman who answers. The next time I talk to you, mommasita, it will be about business.”

  In her rearview mirror, LaTanza saw a grey Suburban parking behind her and in front of Liza. She made a quick glance to the side and saw that Fernando’s eyes were locked on the two men who’d pulled up. LaTanza placed her .40 caliber Glock in between her cream colored pants covered legs. She said, “Will do, Chacho, later.

  “Until then, mommasita.”

  They ended the call, and LaTanza put the satellite phone in her glove compartment as she watched Reynard get out of the driver’s side. He was wearing baggy Roca Wear jeans, a white doo-rag, white Bulls cap and an oversized crisp white t that was covering a 9mm pistol that the shirt had clung onto the handle when he stepped out of the truck—LaTanza noticed but knew the gangster packed heat at all times.

  Reynard scanned the business district and thought how there were better places they could have met, but it was LaTanza’s call, and he knew that if things went, she would set him up to be that nigga, so he was willing to follow her lead.

  Reynard sat in the luxury car then extended his hand. “Hello, Mrs. Fuentes,” he said using her last name to show respect.

  She shook his hand as she said, “No need for the formal. Call me LaTanza.” She searched with her eyes for a wire then said. “Let me see your cap, take that rag off your head and raise your shirt so I can see your waistband.”

  Without question, Reynard did as told.

  LaTanza searched the inside of the cap, checked the buckle of the man’s belt. She patted him down. Torso, legs then crotch—which Reynard didn’t mind. LaTanza had told him not to bring a cell into her car and not to wear any jewelry and he had done as told.

  She handed him his cap and rag as she told him, “If we are going to do business together you need to be a little smarter.”

  A confused Reynard, who had done exactly as told, asked, “How’s that?”

  “We are around a lot of business people. A business district, so you are going to have to start dressing the part. That hood shit with the negro-rag on your head don’t play with shot callers. Understand me?”

  “I feel you,” Reynard said. The hood was all he knew and was a little pissed at the way LaTanza came at him, but deep down inside, he knew she was right. He looked out at the businesses that adorned the neighborhood that was west of the Chicago River and Loop and knew that his attire could attract attention to him.

  LaTanza knew he’d be dressed in the hood attire. It was a Saturday, and
there were hardly any business people on the streets, but she knew she’d get her point across to the gangster she was about to get into business with. She needed Reynard who was street savvy and had been hustling for over fifteen years on all sides of the city. He would be useful for her plan. She had thought about using Bone, but knew he was unreasonable.

  “Okay then, Reynard. My question to you is, are you ready to be loyal to me? Fuck that I’m leading a crew of Latinos. The key word is I’m. I’m the one leading, and I’m the one who runs shit,” she told him.

  Reynard said, “Believe me, everyone on the streets knows that. And my people know that.”

  “Good. And speaking of your people, I’ve given you six months to find out who’s loyal and who you have to weed out.” She looked into his eyes.

  “It’s all good. All that’s left is Bone,” he told her and she caught a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

  “Bone is no doubt a fierce man, but we’ll get him out of the way without it coming back on you. Your people just have to know that they can’t come at us when it happens. It will look as if he got gat randomly, but it can’t come back on my people. A war would be messy. My people would win, of course, but it wouldn’t be good for making money.”

  “Yeah, that shit brings attention to the police.”

  “And citizens. And they put the heat on politicians, and they are the ones who can shut money making down,” LaTanza said as she slipped her sunglasses back on.

  “I will call you and let you know what our next move is. Until then, keep everything steady and go with the flow.” She put her hand on the gear shifter, letting Reynard know that she was done with him.

  “Whatever you say,” he said then exited the car.

 

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