The Family Business 2

by Carl Weber

  It opened its eyes and started squirming in his grasp. I took another step back, tempted to take out my gun and blow the damn thing away. “That fucking things was lying there dead when I walked in.”

  “No he wasn’t. He was playing possum.”

  “Playing possum? You mean you’ve got these damn things trained to fake their own deaths?” I asked, remembering just why I hated going to Orlando’s lab.

  “Amongst other tricks,” he said. “But it’s not me that’s got them trained. It’s H.E.A.T.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Watch.” He placed the rat back on the table, broke off a little piece of H.E.A.T., and put it down in front of the rat. The rat wasted no time eating it.

  “These rats will do just about anything for H.E.A.T. They learn faster, have a higher threshold for pain, and neglect their young all just to get a piece of H.E.A.T. All you gotta do is show them what you want them to do, and they’ll do it.”

  I watched as the rat turned over on its back, rolling his head around like Stevie Wonder. The damn thing was high as hell that quick. I was kind of fascinated watching the whole thing, but Orlando must have seen it a hundred times before. He scooped the rat up and put it back in its cage like show and tell was over.

  “Hey, man,” he said. “You didn’t come all the way down here to watch rats get high, did you? So what’s up?”

  I shrugged. “Nothin’ really. I was just on my way home from my girl’s house and I heard you were here. Wanted to check up on you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m fine, man. So you were at your girl’s house, huh? I heard you got yourself a new woman while I was on the road.”

  “Yeah. Her name’s Sonya.”

  “Did Mom meet her yet? You know nobody’s good enough for the Duncan boys,” he joked.

  “No, she ain’t met her yet. I was trying to wait until things calmed down a bit. I should’ve brought her by last night when you came home. Mom was so happy she might not have paid her no mind.”

  “I hear you. I’m not bringing a woman home until after I marry her. It’s far easier to ask Chippy Duncan for forgiveness than permission.” He was joking, but we both knew it was too close to the truth to be really funny. I didn’t even want to think about what Mom would say if she knew Sonya had a husband.

  “Speaking of women, you know we’re still working on getting your son back from Ruby, right?”

  “I know, man. I appreciate it.” He had a sad look in his eyes at the mention of his child.

  “I think we need to take a trip down to Philly so you can talk to Ruby’s brother Randy. You know, O, he’s not that bad a dude. Even Pop thinks he may become a real asset to us if he ends up seeing the light.”

  “That’s one hell of a compliment coming from you and Pop. I still don’t necessarily trust him, but anything that might get me closer to my son, I’m with it. Dude just better not be playing no games.” We pounded fists. “Let me know when you want to get on the road. The sooner the better.”

  “Let me run it by Harris and I’ll get back to you,” I told him then patted his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re back, O. We haven’t talked about it, but what went down with Trent was heavy, man.”

  “If what you’re trying to say is that I fucked up, you’re right,” he said, his head hanging low. “If it hadn’t been Ruby calling, I wouldn’t have even answered it, and Trent would still be alive.”

  “Yeah, but then you’d be the one dead.”

  “Exactly. That’s how it was supposed to be.”

  “Look, I’m no preacher, but even a scientist like you can’t deny that sometimes shit happens for a reason. If God had really wanted you to die then He wouldn’t have distracted you with that call. Why was it her and not the fifty other people whose calls you would have ignored?”

  He stared at me and said nothing, so I spelled it out for him. “It’s a sign that it wasn’t your time to go. You know, divine intervention. When it’s your time, it’s your time. And this wasn’t your time.”

  “I get that, but fuck—it ain’t right that Trent went in my place. He was probably only trying to show me that he was ready to handle more responsibility. I mean, he’d turned his life around.”

  “Yeah, even LC saw that, but Trent knew the risk.”

  “Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” he said.

  “I know, man.”

  We were both silent for a moment, lost in our thoughts about the tragedy of our cousin’s death.

  “Hey,” I said after a while, “if it’ll make you feel any better, we got confirmation that Alejandro is dead.”

  Orlando did a double take. “Get the fuck outta here. Already? How did anybody get to him? He has his own army, and his place is literally a fortress.”

  “The airport. From the way it was explained to me, they took him out immediately after he dropped you off.”

  “Wait a minute.” Orlando’s eyes widened. “That’s what all the flashing lights were. I saw them when we took off—a whole bunch of fucking cops and emergency vehicles on the road to the airport.” He shook his head. “Damn, Rodriguez ain’t no joke. He’s got resources all over the world.”

  “I’m just glad that fucking Alejandro is dead. Pretty ironic, wouldn’t you say? He’s the one who said a life for a life, and he’s the one who ends up dead.”

  We fell silent again. I was avoiding the subject I’d really come to discuss.

  “Junior,” Orlando said. “I know you didn’t leave your girl’s bed to come here and visit my rats. You hate this fucking place. It’s written all over your face. When are you going to tell me what’s really on your mind?”

  “It’s nothing, man. I just got a lot on my mind.”

  He frowned at my obvious lie. “Bro, you never were very good at poker.”

  It was no use trying to avoid it any longer. “Now that the shit with Alejandro is settled, Señor Rodriguez is ready to do business. He and the cartels just put in a ten million dollar wholesale order.”

  Orlando’s face broke out in a proud smile. “Get the fuck outta here! I told you H.E.A.T. was our ticket to the big time. And it all started here.” He waved his arm like a game show host, indicating his lab and all its experiments. His face wore the same expression I’d seen when he won the state science fair in high school.

  He threw his hand up to high-five me, but I kept mine close. He dropped his arm looking deflated. “What the fuck, bro?”

  “I can’t, man. I been thinking a lot about things ever since we thought we lost you, and—”

  He cut me off. “Oh, shit! You’re voting against H.E.A.T., aren’t you?”

  Orlando knew me too well to bother trying to lie to him. “Yeah, I am,” I admitted.

  “Mom got to you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

  I couldn’t look him in the eye. “Yeah, she did.”

  Orlando put his hand on my shoulder and waited until I looked up at him. “Junior, I understand,” he said. “You’ve always done what you thought was right. But I’m telling you, this is right. I’m not saying there aren’t gonna be risks, but I believe in this, and I need your support.”

  “I’m not willing for one of those risks to be your life . . . again. O, if it wasn’t for H.E.A.T., you never would have been in the same room as Alejandro and you know it.”

  “But Alejandro’s gone, Junior.”

  “And there’s a lot worse dudes out there than him. Trust me.”

  “Hey, I worked my ass off for years to create something great,” he said, his voice rising in anger. “H.E.A.T. can be my legacy. It’s the culmination of everything I’ve been taught and all that I know, and it deserves to be put to the test. I invented something capable of changing the game in our favor.”

  “And I’m blown away, proud of your skills. But Mom has a valid reason to be against this. The danger is too high. I’m not willing to risk our family just so that we can make more money. Like Biggie says: More money, mor
e problems.”

  “Bring them. You and Mom can never fully understand what this means to me. Maybe none of you can.” He paused for a second. Maybe he was waiting to hear me say he’d changed my mind, but I said nothing.

  He looked disappointed. “Well, you gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.”

  “I’m going to vote with my conscience,” I said.

  “Yeah, and I’m going to vote with mine.”

  “Look,” I told him, starting to get a little worried about his stubbornness, “however this turns out, whatever way the vote winds up going, you’re still my brother. You win this vote, and I will be the first person standing behind you. I just hope you’re man enough to do the same.”

  Sasha

  33

  My employer had sent me to New York to pay a visit to LC Duncan, but first I went to visit my mother in Queens. I enjoyed my time with her, but it was also tough being back home. I could only spend a few days before the ache in my heart became too much to bear. It was time to do something I’d been dreading ever since I landed in New York. It was time to visit my father’s grave.

  I made my way to Pinelawn Memorial Park in Long Island, where I picked up a map from the visitors’ office and maneuvered through the winding roads to the area where my father was buried. My mother had bought a plot in the Garden of Peace, a section of the cemetery where the flowering trees and a bronze fountain made it just that—peaceful.

  As I sat in my car mentally preparing myself to go see Daddy’s grave, I felt anything but peaceful. He had been gone a little less than a year, and I can’t begin to explain just how much I missed him. I loved that man more than anyone in the world. All I ever wanted to do was make him proud, but I’d been robbed of that chance when someone gunned him down like a dog in the middle of the street during a drive-by shooting.

  I was away at finishing school when he died, and my family hadn’t even told me about his death until after he was buried. They didn’t want me to come home because they were afraid of how I’d react. Even as a teenager, I had a ruthless side that was well known. My mother was afraid that Daddy’s death would send me over the edge and I’d kill everyone in sight—which is probably what I would have done. Even now, almost a year later, I felt rage coursing through my veins as I approached his grave site.

  Seeing his name on that cold slab of granite was almost too much to bear. As I ran my hand sadly along the engraved dates of his birth and death, a tear escaped and fell on a bouquet of yellow roses that rested against the headstone. Apparently someone else had been to visit recently. Wiping my eyes, I knelt down and started talking to my father.

  “Daddy, I wish you were here to see what I’ve accomplished. I did what you always wanted me to do. I finished my studies and graduated at the top of my class.” I wiped away another tear that slid down my face. “I didn’t come back home like you wanted, though. I’m sorry. I don’t know, I guess I just needed some time to heal before I could bear to be back home without you.”

  Yes, I was definitely Daddy’s girl. Ever since I entered finishing school, I’d worked my ass off to be the best assassin I could be—but it was only to make my father proud. I idolized him. Now that he was gone, it was so hard to find meaning in anything I did. Even though my mother was still alive, there were times I felt like an orphan, like I had no family.

  I dropped my head in my hands and allowed the tears to flow. It wasn’t often that I let down my guard and allowed myself the luxury of feeling vulnerable, but sitting next to my father’s grave knowing I’d never spend another day with him was too painful to suppress.

  Remembering the last time I’d seen him alive brought a small smile to my face. I’d been home on a break, and it was the day I was returning to school for my last semester of studies. I’d spent most of my break running around with friends, but Daddy insisted that my last day had to be spent with him. He took me to the mall, where he told me he’d increased my credit card limit and then let me go crazy in Saks Fifth Avenue. We went to lunch at the Cheesecake Factory and shared a huge slice of his favorite, red velvet cheesecake.

  At the time it was just another day to me, but now I was so grateful to have had that time with him. During the car ride to the airport, Daddy opened up in a way he didn’t often do. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl,” he told me. “You have such passion and talent for what you do, and I have no doubt you will go on to be the best there is. I can’t wait to stand up and applaud you on your graduation day.”

  Of course I had no idea then that it would be the last time I’d ever see him alive. I was so grateful that I’d been able to tell him I loved him before he left me at the airport.

  “Everything I’m doing from here on out is for you,” I said, kissing my lips to my palm and laying it flat against the headstone.

  “You have no idea how much he loved you,” a male voice said assuredly from behind me.

  All of my nerves fired up on high alert. I bounced to my feet and turned toward the voice with a Beretta Nano in my hand. I was now face to face with the one person on the planet that scared the living shit outta me. His voice was softer and kinder than I remembered, but LC Duncan was still one scary son of a bitch.

  “Señor Rodriguez said I should come see you,” I said, trying to control my voice from shaking. This had been one hell of an emotional day.

  “I know,” he said. Of course he did. When the hell did LC Duncan not know every fucking thing?

  “I graduated top of my class and have thirteen paid kills to my resume,” I rattled off.

  “I know that too,” he said, his face still expressionless.

  “My last kill was Alejandro Zuniga. I took him out at almost four hundred feet.”

  This finally got a rise out of him. “You took out Alejandro?” he asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

  I nodded and he gave me a half smile.

  “You’ve done well for yourself, young lady. I’m impressed. I’ve kept close tabs on you, and I have to say, your old man would have been proud.”

  “Thank you.”

  He took a step then stopped. “Can I ask you a favor?” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “Can you lower that gun? Your hand’s shaking a little, and well, it’d be a shame if the gun went off while I was trying to give you a hug.”

  I looked down at my hand. He was right; my hand was trembling.

  “Yeah,” I said, lowering my gun.

  He came closer, placing a hand on my shoulder, comforting and confirming at the same time. “I understand why you couldn’t come back sooner, but it’s time for you to make up your mind.” He turned me so that we were looking at Daddy’s grave. “You know it’s what your father wanted for you. Are you ready to be a part of the family business?”

  I turned to face him, my decision already made.

  “Yes, Uncle LC, I am.”

  Paris

  34

  After an hour of core training, leg lifts, and pushups followed by forty-five minutes on the treadmill, my muscles were burning and I was drenched in sweat. It felt good, though. There’s nothing like pushing your body to the limit to get those endorphins flowing, and it had been way too long since I’d done it.

  When I was in high school, I was on the track team, and thought I was in pretty good shape. My instructors at finishing school whipped that notion out of me pretty quick, though. They taught me the true meaning of endurance; they taught me how to control my mind so that I could go beyond any limits I’d set for myself. And once I realized what I was capable of, I became the most competitive person in my class. If a guy could do one hundred sit ups in ten minutes, then I wouldn’t quit until I could complete them in nine. Same went for weights, rope climbing, and running. I went from being precious and afraid of breaking a nail to beating the most athletically competitive guys in my class at anything. By the time I graduated, there wasn’t a man at that place who could come close to beating me.

  Ever since Jordan’s birth, though, I’d
become so damn lazy. My muscles were like Jell-O, and I definitely didn’t have the stamina that I had before. All that was fine in the first few weeks after I gave birth, especially since my parents were basically holding me hostage in the house anyway. But now I was itching to get back to my life, and to do that, I needed to be in top form. First of all, I needed to get my endurance back before I found the next man lucky enough to get some of my sweet pussy. Even more important, shit was heating up with the family business, and who knew when they might need me to take out an enemy or two. I couldn’t be a top assassin if I wasn’t in top physical form.

  When I left the gym and headed to the kitchen. Junior was just getting up to put his plate in the sink, and he tapped me on the head as he passed by.

  “Hey, sis.” He scooted away from me as I tried to retaliate for the tap.

  “Morning to you too,” I swatted at him as he left. Ever since he’d started dating Sonya, Junior seemed happier. That girl had my big brother’s nose wide open.

  “Hey, P.” Orlando put down his iPad.

  “Hey yourself. Where you been? I checked in your room late last night and you were out.” I grabbed some juice and yogurt and sat next to him.

  “Couldn’t sleep, so I went to the lab.” He gave me the once over. “I see you’re getting back to fighting strength.”

  “Hell yeah! I cannot be out there without my sexy.” Orlando shook his head and laughed. “What?” I said. “Paris Duncan is a bad-ass bitch, and when I step in folks notice, so I gotta keep it tight. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

  “Paris, you’re always gonna be the center of attention no matter what you look like. Men always want to get to know the crazy chick.” He gave me a devilish grin.

  “Boy, you about to piss me off.” I swatted his arm. “But hey, I’m still glad you’re back.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “Me too, little sis. Me too.”

  I heard a car pulling into the driveway and looked out the window to see Daddy pulling up. “Who the hell is that?” I asked Orlando when a tall, leggy woman in a short dress got out of the passenger side. I couldn’t stop staring at her or that dope-ass Celine handbag with the red stitching. I’d had my eye on that same bag. I would have bought it, too, if only Momma had agreed to watch Jordan long enough for me to get to Neiman Marcus.