Blood, Sweat & Payback (Payback Series)

by Wahida Clark

  She then googled the church slaying. This time she was looking for the patsy and again she found him. His name was James “JJ” Wright, a fact she found out by googling his obituary. She now knew where both men were from, and now she knew where to start.

  Janay headed for the ho stroll on Woodward and Eight Mile. The strip was peppered with stiletto-wearing whores, mostly addicts, and not always a sure thing that they were even women. So Janay shined like a diamond amongst glass trinkets. Women gave her murderous glances, but the glance they received in return sent them scurrying until she had an entire corner to herself.

  It didn’t take long for a trick to choose her. He was white. An accountant. He drove a Mercedes. He was a regular on the strip. He had never seen Janay before. She was a jet-black stallion he couldn’t wait to ride.

  He boned up instantly. “How much?” he questioned.

  Janay didn’t answer. She got in the car. “Pull off,” she ordered.

  She was forceful. He liked that. Maybe she would spank him.

  “I-I-I can . . . pay whatever,” he replied nervously.

  She stuck the gun to his nut shack. He damn near passed out.

  “Then pay attention to what I say,” she seethed. “If you do, you’ll live. If not, you die. Do you understand?”

  He nodded vigorously.

  “Take me to the West Side,” Janay demanded.

  “I don’t know where—”

  “I do. Drive.”

  Two stoplights later, a cop cruiser pulled up beside them in the outside lane. Janay pushed the gun a little more into his nut sack. He winced.

  “I’m not going to jail, but you will definitely die,” Janay warned him.

  The cops glanced over casually. He mustered up a smile and nodded. They returned the nod but not the smile. The light turned green. The cops turned into the intersection.

  “You did good.”

  “Please don’t kill me. I-I have money.”

  “So do I.”

  For the next few hours, he drove Janay all around the West Side. Her only question to its inhabitants was, “Y’all seen Pookie?”

  The answers ranged from no to nothing. Most people didn’t even know he was dead. After two hours, another crackhead named Evelyn took one look at the Mercedes and the white driver and her instincts screamed, “Jackpot!” She came up to the car and leaned on the passenger window. Janay concealed the gun.

  “You seen Pookie!” Janay questioned.

  “Why? You lookin’ fo’ him too?”

  “He a friend of Pookie’s. He ready to spend, but only if Pookie cop,” Janay explained.

  Evelyn sucked her teeth. “Shit, daddy, Pookie dead. But I promise you I can take you there,” Evelyn flirted, flashing her rotten toothed smile.

  “When he die?” Janay questioned.

  “ ’Bout a week or two ago. Last time I seen him he was wit’ that crazy-ass Baby Boy,” Evelyn replied.

  “Who is Baby Boy?”

  Evelyn looked her up and down. “Bitch, who is you, po-leece? Fuck you askin’ so many—”

  That’s all she got out before Janay stuck the gun under her chin. “Who . . . is . . . Baby . . . Boy?” Janay gritted.

  “You got it.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “He Thelma son. Crazy as shit. He prolly kilt Pookie! I don’t want no trouble, Miss Lady!” Evelyn pled.

  Janay released her with a push. Evelyn tripped on the curb, then fell on her ass.

  “Then watch your goddamn mouth,” Janay warned her as they pulled off.

  She then went to the North Side, where JJ was from, and asked about him. This time she also asked, “Was he with Baby Boy when he came through?”

  Finally after two hours a block hugger said, “Baby Boy from the West Side? Yeah, Baby Boy scooped him up. I ain’t seen him since.”

  Baby Boy! Janay’s mind repeated. That’s who she was looking for.

  She told the white man to stop in a secluded spot. It was four in the morning and Detroit was quiet. The streets were dark. She put the gun to the white man’s forehead.

  He melted into a mountain of sobs and quivering flesh. “Oh, God. No! You . . . you said—”

  “Fuck what I said,” she hissed. “I lied. You ever lie before?”

  He was afraid to answer.

  “That’s what I thought. You probably lied to your wife tonight, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, God. Oh, God—”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Yes, yes, I did!”

  “So why should a liar expect the truth?”

  “My God—”

  “Don’t call on him. He’s a liar too,” she spat evilly.

  He shut his mouth and moaned.

  “You got kids?”

  He nodded.

  “You love ’em?”

  “Yes!”

  Janay’s finger trembled on the trigger. She had power over life and death. From now on, the only power she would believe in was her own.

  “Go home. Appreciate every day you have with them. If I ever see you out here again I’ll know you don’t appreciate them. I’ll go to your house and kill them all. Do you understand?”

  “I do. I do. I do.”

  “Give me your wallet.”

  He handed it over without hesitation. She took his license and put it in her pocket.

  “Now I know where to find them.”

  She got out of the car and walked off. The man watched her disappear in the shadows until he unthawed enough to drive away.

  • • •

  “Oh my God, Briggen!” Nyla squealed, getting on her tiptoes to give him a hug.

  He stepped inside her house as she closed the door behind him.

  “When did you get out?”

  “A coupla days ago,” he answered, sitting down on the couch, and pulling out an envelope full of money.

  “Briggen, no. I can’t.”

  “That’s for you and Tameerah, yo. Where she at?”

  “At school. And Briggen, we are fine,” Nyla replied, curling up on the other end of the couch. “We don’t need your money,” she assured him.

  “Why? You still mad at me?”

  “No. Briggen. I forgave you. It wasn’t you. It was her. I told you that in my letters.”

  “Nyla, it wasn’t her working solo. Forever played his part in it too. So don’t blame it all on her.”

  “Briggen, you are only saying that because you in love with her. The bitch is a snake. Just like she destroyed my marriage she tried to destroy you as well.”

  “Nyla, I see that I can’t change your mind about Shan, so I’ma let it go. Here. Take this money.” He forced the envelope into her hand.

  “Briggen, Forever left us money. We are fine. Use this to get back on your feet. Since you are still in love with that bitch, trust me, you’re gonna need it.”

  “Nyla, I’m not accepting no. Just take it and say thank you. Damn, girl!”

  “Okay. If it makes you feel better, thank you,” she snapped, obviously still into her feelings.

  “Don’t thank me. That’s my niece. Y’all family. You know, regardless, I’ma make sure you good,” he vowed.

  Nyla smiled warmly. “I have to admit, you a good man, Briggen.” Just saying the words reminded her of Forever, which led to thoughts of his death, which connected a full circle to the person she blamed for it all. Shan.

  Briggen caught her expression. “What?”

  “Nothin’,” she lied.

  “Come on, Nyla. You know I know you. And you bein’ you, I know you thinking about Shan. Let it go. You can’t bring him back.”

  “I hate that bitch!” she seethed.

  “Stop sweatin’ her, Nyla.”

  “And you’re not? Shit, you should be! I told you that bitch was cold, Briggen. I ain’t tryin’ to rub it in your face. But while you was locked up, this bitch ran off with your kids, your money, left you for dead, and was shackin’ up with yo man Nick! He got this ho livin’ good in New Yo
rk while Forever in the cold ground,” she spat with anger, tears pouring from her eyes.

  Briggen slid over to comfort her. He put his arm around her, and she put her head on his chest.

  “Chill, Nyla, let that shit go. Every dog has its day.”

  “I can’t, Briggen, I can’t. I tried. I swear I did. But she deserves it, and you know she do!” Nyla was in a full boohoo mode.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Briggen told her again.

  She hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Briggen. She didn’t deserve you.” Nyla continued to sob.

  She kissed him again, this time on the corner of the mouth, and then on the mouth.

  Briggen was surprised at first, but he reacted like any other nigga would with a sexy bitch all over him and returned the kiss. When their tongues met, it electrified them both. Nyla slid over on his lap, but the energy that hit him made Briggen pull back.

  “Yo, Nyla, this is all wrong,” he tried to protest.

  “I missed you so much,” she purred, pulling at his belt and zipper and releasing his half hard dick.

  Missed me? Briggen was confused.

  Nyla pulled her sweatpants off to reveal that she was pantiless. She straddled him, gripped his dick, and slid it in her wet and waiting pussy. She sucked in her breath and threw her head back.

  “Yesss, daddy, oww fuck!” she screamed, coming almost instantly. “Oh, yes, Forever! I missed you sooo much!”

  Briggen heard the name, but he was too much in the zone to feel any kind of way. In fact, it turned him on to be his dead brother in Nyla’s sexual fantasy. He only wished that Forever could walk in and see this. He admired his dick going in and out.

  “Fuck your pussy some more, make me come hard, baby, I need it!” she moaned, bouncing on his dick while she gripped the back of the couch.

  Nyla was definitely in a zone, but not the zone Briggen thought she was in. She definitely fantasized that Briggen was Forever, but she knew he wasn’t. She just wanted to sink her claws in him. She wanted to fuck Shan’s man like Shan had fucked Forever. Besides, she wanted to try and get in Briggen’s head and get him to help her get Shan. She was obsessed with Shan. Nyla had to have her, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to get her.

  • • •

  Sherman entered his Detroit city dwelling two minutes before Conan, his favorite late night host came on. He headed straight for his refrigerator. He grabbed a beer, popped it, and then headed for the stairs. When he got to his bedroom, he clicked on his light—and immediately froze.

  Dark was sitting on the bed, with a gun pointed straight at him.

  “Bang, bang, you’re dead.” Dark’s voice was chilling but calm.

  Sherman tried to play it off, but he couldn’t mask his fear to a man who could smell it a mile away. He didn’t know if Dark was serious or not.

  “Am I supposed to be scared, Dark?”

  “You are.”

  “Kiss my ass.”

  Dark laughed, stood up, and held the gun loosely at his side. “You slippin’, Sherm. You could’ve been your own next homicide case,” Dark remarked.

  “You don’t think I’m prepared for that? You don’t think I keep my bases covered? You fuckin’ prick! I was playin’ this game since before you were shittin’ green!” Sherman taunted.

  Dark slammed Sherman against the wall, kept his forearm against his throat, and put the gun to his cheek.

  “Who are you workin’ for, Sherman?”

  “Fuck you!” Sherman spat.

  Dark cut off his windpipe. “You think I give a fuck about killin’ you, cracka? One shot and I solve my problem! You got me takin’ out The Consortium. I want to know why right now, or I’ll fuckin’ murder yo’ bitch ass and take my chances!” Dark raged.

  Sherman took one look in Dark’s eyes and realized he was through being a pawn. He knew Dark would make good on his promise so he relented. “Okay . . . Okay! It’s The List!” Sherman admitted.

  Dark eyed him intently, then released him from the death grip. “What about it?”

  Sherman rubbed at his throat.

  “Cisco knew some . . . things. Don’t ask me how, but he did. He had me over a barrel. The shit he knew could send me away for a long time . . . or worse. He agreed to sell me The List, but he said he wouldn’t tell me exactly who the person he had told was until I paid him. It was a security measure. But before it could go down, you killed him,” Sherman explained.

  “Killed who?” Dark asked, playing dumb.

  “Whatever, Dark. We both know the truth. Bottom line is, he’s gone and I don’t know who it is, so I’m taking drastic measures. Kill ’em all!”

  “I’m on The List. You gonna kill me too?” Dark challenged.

  “If I were, you’d be cashing in instead of being played like a pawn,” Sherman chuckled.

  Dark aimed the gun at him. “You’re not in this alone. Who are you workin’ for?”

  Sherman glared at him without answering. Dark cocked the hammer. “Answer the fuckin’ question,” he demanded.

  “Cisco’s wife . . . Joy. She has Congressman Duffy in her pocket.”

  “Get her on the phone. You want me to be the cleanup man, I’m settin’ the rules. If not, we’ll burn this fuckin’ city down so nobody will run it!” Dark threatened.

  “You think you’re pretty smart, huh, Dark? You don’t know shit! You wanna play in the big leagues, do ya? You’re not ready! Duffy will eat you alive.” Sherman taunted as he pulled out the phone and hit speed dial. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

  • • •

  Rudy sat behind his desk, talking on the phone when Mo’Betta walked in. He had been expecting Mo’, but he didn’t expect what he did next.

  As soon as Mo’Betta closed the door and Rudy put up the wait-a-minute finger, Mo’ walked over and hung up Rudy’s call by pressing the dial tone button.

  “Nigga, what the fuck are you—”

  “I could ask you the same thing, muhfucka, but I don’t have to because I already know!” Mo’Betta accused, cutting him off.

  Rudy stood up. “Get out of my office!”

  Mo’ looked at him and smiled. He then pulled out Sharia’s cell and pressed send. As soon as it started ringing, a phone somewhere in the office rang, corresponding to the rings.

  Rudy knew he was busted.

  “You a snake ass nigga, Rudy. Right up under the nigga nose, schemin’ on him the whole time. Tellin’ him to get out of the game, talkin’ that ‘think of your kids’ shit. The whole time you plottin’ with that scandalous-ass bitch to take over his operation!” Mo’Betta laughed.

  Rudy sat down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, you know! See, the dizzy bitch ain’t have the good sense to erase her texts or e-mails! Shit go as far back to some nigga named Woo and some bitch named Tami. I may not know who they are, but I’m sure Briggen will! It’s clear you was the mastermind behind it all. It may not be all there, but it’s enough for Briggen to connect the dots!” Mo’Betta warned.

  Rudy knew there was no way he could deny it. He was in too deep. “What do you want?” he seethed.

  Mo’ stepped to the desk, leaned on his palms close to Rudy’s face, and replied. “No, the question is, what don’t you want to happen? You know if I take this to Briggen, you a dead man. So, my question is, do you want to die? And if not, what is your life worth to you?”

  Rudy eyed him. “How much?”

  “Everything you got wouldn’t be enough. So I’ma make a deal with you . . . I want in,” Mo’ told him.

  His and Rudy’s eyes met, like two snakes slithering and intertwining. Rudy couldn’t help but crack a smile.

  “In?” he echoed.

  “I want the whole operation, and you’re going to give it to me, Rudy. You may be a snake nigga, but so am I. King goddamn cobra. Don’t forget that, because if you do, I promise I’ma have fun makin’ you pay.” Mo’Betta made a threat that he was anxious
to keep.

  Rudy could see the young boy meant every word.

  “Calvin’s been on top for too long.” Rudy grimaced at his own words. “I’ve been there every step of the way. You think he offered to bring me in? You think he said, ‘Rudy, your loyalty is priceless?’ Hell no! All he did was toss me the fucking crumb retainers and lawyer fees! Peanuts compared to what he was getting! Woo understood; he felt my pain. Sharia, she understood. Everybody that Briggen ever used and threw away, I turned them into my soldiers,” Rudy boasted.

  “So, what’s the plan . . . partna?” Mo’Betta wanted to know. He was all too ready to roll over on Briggen. Excited that he thought Briggen was his big fish but he ended up catching a killer whale. In all actuality, he didn’t give a fuck who had it, as long as he ended up with the prize money.

  Mo’Betta was feeling himself, because he felt like he had figured out the riddle of the Sphinx. He had listened to Rudy when he first met him, listened to his style of speech. The way he talked proper, but mixed in slang with it when he needed to. The inflections in his speech, he realized, were from the same voice on Sharia’s phone. At first he was going to put Briggen up on the game, but why? As long as Briggen didn’t know, Mo’Betta would have the upper hand. So if Rudy’s plan fell through, Mo’ could always tell Briggen. He could effectively play both sides of the fence. The young boy had it all figured out.

  • • •

  The tension in the room seemed to him like the electricity of an ever present generator. The Consortium meetings were often used to air grievances and squash beefs, but when you didn’t know who you are beefing with, and it could be anybody in the room, any little issue could spark an explosion. No one wanted to travel too far out of the city because niggas had their teams with them, ready to set it off. They were all seated at 7p.m. sharp in the conference room at the Inn in Plymouth. The twins brought an army, and Tareek wasn’t far behind in numbers. Looking around, it was clear that shit was serious. The only members left at the table were Dark, Tareek, Keith and Kevin known as the twins, Kay-Gee, Briggen, and Born. But all eyes were on Dark, while he was all eyes on everyone else. Every man was strapped and ready to get it poppin’.