by Cole Hart
She whispered in his ear, “I love you, Danté, but right now, I can’t stand to look at you.”
He nearly pushed himself away from her. He was so mad that he almost lost his breath.
“And that’s it?” he asked her.
“You on your own,” she whispered and then turned her back to him.
Lil’ Danté went toward the door. When he opened it, he heard his name. He turned and faced Summer, who ran to him and hugged him.
“Don’t leave,” she whispered.
He was her youngest son, and she wasn’t about to lose him. What she saw in him is that he was aggressive and he could think. This was her son literally, and in the back of her mind, she knew he had his father’s ways…or much worse.
Chapter 61
“Well, if you don’t want me to come to yo’ house, jus’ let me know where you wanna meet at?” Cheerio said into the phone to Summer.
He and a couple more goons were in a hotel room on Washington Road. There were two mini assault rifles, and three had guns amongst them. An ounce of powdered cocaine was being passed around in a clean ashtray, and they weren’t wasting any time with it either.
“Are you alone at this moment?” Summer asked.
Cheerio’s eyes glanced around the room. He wasn’t stupid, but then again, people tend to make stupid decisions while high on coke. He was thinking, Easy lick. Summer was thinking ten steps ahead of him.
“Right now I’m at a room on Washington Road. I got a couple of partnas wit’ me.” He dipped his pinky nail in the mound of raw powder, brought it to his nose, moved the phone away from his face, and sniffed all in one swift motion.
“Can I come to you?”
Cheerio glanced around again. His partners were talking in the back, so he snapped his fingers to gain their attention. They turned to him in unison, and he placed his index finger to his mouth to silence them.
“Yeah, you can come to me.” His eyes swept around the room to read their facial expressions.
What Summer said next made him catch butterflies. “I’m sure I can trust you, right?”
His throat became dry, and his stomach began bubbling from the cocaine.
“What makes you think you can’t trust me, Summer?” he said. “You know I’ll handle business.”
“I know, and that’s what makes me nervous about you. On the other hand, I would love to trust you. It just seems like nobody wants to respect the game.”
“You don’t either. You killed a good nigga.”
Cheerio didn’t mean to say that. Actually, he was thinking it, but the words spilled out with his thoughts.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” she said.
He didn’t believe her.
“You comin’ to get dis money or what?” he growled.
“No, you keep it,” Summer told him.
Cheerio frowned and screamed, “You a dead bitch walkin’!”
He nearly bit his tongue trying to get his words out. His temper got the best of him; he wasn’t even thinking.
“It is what it is,” she said and hung up.
Summer sat comfortably in her living room snacking on imported cheese and white wine. Lil’ Danté sat there next to her. He heard the whole conversation over the speakerphone.
“I can call Wayne,” he said to his mother.
She gave him a look like she was trying to catch the name. She didn’t care who he was anyway.
Reluctantly, she said, “I want you to do it yourself, Danté.”
Her response caught him by surprise, and the words cut through him like a razor. He smiled happily.
“I still gotta call Wayne, though. He gonna drive fo’ me.”
She patted his back. “See, you too anxious.” She took both of his hands. “I don’t wanna visit you in a prison, Danté. You need to listen. You should never repeat your business to anybody, and that’s including your brothers. Our business is our business. Is that understood?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Remember, if you’re ever caught by the police and they start interrogating you, they will lie to get you to tell. But, to avoid all of this, what do you do?”
“Stay quiet and don’t answer no questions,” he replied.
“Where did you learn to shoot a gun?” Summer asked.
He gave a half laugh as if his mother was the police. He would answer the question because she was his mother, but Lil’ Danté was smart…smarter than the average teen his age.
He finally said, “I went deer hunting a couple of times with Bobby and his dad. Grandma used to let me go.”
She gave him an impressive smile. “Did you learn to have patience? Like to wait for the perfect time before you actually killed the deer.”
“Before we actually started, we were taught to move easy and how to camouflage ourselves. I’m good at hiding from my prey. I can be right in their face and they won’t see me.” He paused and then asked, “Why you think I got the dogs?”
“For future references,” she said, then checked her Rolex. “Now call Wayne.”
He didn’t smile this time, but the nod of approval was just as good. He took his cell phone and sent Wayne a text message.
*****
Hours later, Cheerio had snorted so much cocaine that he couldn’t feel his body. He was in the hotel room alone, naked and lying flat on his back on the cool bedspread. Cheerio tried bobbing his head to the 50 Cent video playing on the television. His eyes were shut, and he’d smoked nearly six packs of cigarettes.
His phone rang, vibrating on the bed. He reached for his flip, grabbed it, and looked at the screen, but he couldn’t recognize the number. He answered it anyway.
“Hey Daddy,” his son said from the other end.
For a minute, Cheerio was senseless, but he quickly came back to reality when he heard his son’s voice. He looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It read 1:45 a.m., and he knew his son shouldn’t have been calling him at this time of night.
“Where yo’ mama at? Why you callin’ so late?”
“Somebody here, Daddy. Dey got Mama tied up. Can you come help us?”
Screams roared through Cheerio’s head. His Adam’s apple bobbled in his throat, and his heart rate had accelerated. He was so angry his palms started to sweat.
“Give the dude the phone,” Cheerio demanded.
The line went dead.
*****
When Cheerio arrived at his house, there weren’t any lights on and no cars parked out front. He parked his rented Chrysler 300M and stepped out with a riot pump slung over his shoulder. He moved across the grass and up to the porch. The Meadow Brook neighborhood was quiet. He didn’t pay any attention to the silence, though. He thought for a second before entering. Cheerio wasn’t stupid. He put his ear to the door.
The silence had his mind spinning. He stepped back off the porch, and a better idea hit him as he walked back across the lawn. He paused and stared around the neighborhood, then removed his cell phone from his pocket.
Across the street, Lil’ Danté waited on the front porch in the darkness. He was young, swift, and quick as lightening on his feet. He watched every move Cheerio made, and when Cheerio turned his back to him to get back into the car, Lil’ Danté moved faster than a scared cat. He was running and aiming. Lil’ Danté squeezed off nearly fourteen shots before Cheerio realized he was even behind him. Glass splattered everywhere when he fell face down. Lil’ Danté got to him and knelt down. He raised Cheerio’s head with a gloved hand. Blood spilled from his mouth. He was hit in several places, but he wasn’t dead yet.
“Look at me,” Lil’ Danté told him.
Cheerio kept his eyes down. He didn’t want to see his maker.
Lil’ Danté removed the clip and replaced it with another one. Sirens were wailing somewhere in the background. He knew he had to move quickly.
“Never underestimate the Summer,” Lil’ Danté said.
He unloaded the clip in his face, ensuring that
Cheerio’s funeral would be closed casket.
BOOK 6
New York, New York
Chapter 62
The draft was being held at the Radio City Music Hall this year for some apparent reason or another. Normally, it was held at The Garden. The twins lived for basketball and strived hard to make it to this day, the NBA draft. They were casually dressed in matching attire and wore Gator dress shoes. Today, they would make history. Two brothers, twins. Both from the ghetto, both with the same desire, and both with a mother who pushed them to be the best they could be.
At their table, Summer sat between them. She came dressed for the occasion. Nothing flashy, just pearls. She had the appearance of a Queen. She knew her role, that’s for sure. On the inside, Summer was nervous. Real millionaires and future ones surrounded her. Lil’ Danté sat at the table wearing a tuxedo and a huge pinky ring. This was exciting to him, also. Next to him sat his little sister, Alisa, who was the splitting image of Summer from head to toe. Summer wanted her on the silver screen, and some kind of way she would make it happen.
Alisa was fourteen now and attractive with long hair. She looked nearly grown. She’d been featured in a few sales paper ads modeling jeans, dresses, and leather jackets. She did one local commercial in Augusta. Summer wanted the best for her. Alisa was her only daughter, and eventually her time would come.
David Stern stepped up to the podium, and the whole entire room went silent. The stage was illuminated where he stood. This was the first round, and everybody knew it was going to be the twins who were picked.
David Stern eyed the audience. “And for first round 2007 NBA draft pick, the Seattle Supersonics chose Jeremy McKey.”
The crowd went into an uproar. Jeremy stood and his family stood with him. He hugged everybody before going to the stage. Cameras flashed as he placed his fitted cap on his head and held one side of his jersey while David Stern held the other side.
After the commercial break, the Atlanta Hawks were up next. David Stern returned to the stage, and the crowd hushed again. Jermaine was on his cell phone. His agent had already given him the news. He went to the Hawks, and the deal was sealed.
Summer tried to hold her composure, but she couldn’t. She broke down in tears. This was the happiest moment in her life. She was finished with any and all illegal activities. Too bad Lil’ Danté wouldn’t be. He also had legal ventures in the making, though. He bred exotic dogs and sold the pups at two to three thousand dollars a whop. That was minor money, though. He knew that as a result his older brothers being in the position they were in, he was about to blow up for real. He stood with the audience and gave his brothers a round of applause while slowly bobbing his head. In a few months, he’d be laughing all the way to the bank.
*****
Months later, a celebration party was thrown. The twelve-foot wrought-iron entrance gates slowly opened to let in more guests for the gathering. Surveillance cameras mounted high all around the estate moved freely as the high-powered lenses zoomed in on the twin aqua blue Aston Martins that followed closely behind one another. More expensive cars followed through the electrical gates, as well. Maybachs, Phantoms, and several limousines made the night look extravagant. In the wide, black top driveway, there was a bronze colored Bentley Azure with Miami plates parked directly in front of the huge waterfall. It was a gift to one of the twins, and then it was passed on to Lil’ Danté.
On the inside of the 22,000 square foot estate that sat on nearly seventy acres of manicured and wooded land in Alpharetta, Georgia, Summer was the host. She was dressed in a strapless, elegant, white silk dress. She wore huge five-carat diamond earrings in each ear; her long nails were manicured and polished. Her eyebrows were arched to perfection and not a strand of hair was out of place. She used this party to get herself out there amongst the celebrities who were there. She was really mingling amongst stars. Rappers, NFL players, and several NBA players had come out. Hell, both of her boys were already NBA stars, and they hadn’t played their first game on television yet.
Summer was a star herself tonight. She eased through the huge sea of people, shaking hands and smiling as if she was in a parade. Photographers from ESPN and Ebony magazine were there, also.
“Ms. McKey!” one well-dressed photographer shouted.
Turning turned toward him, Summer noticed the camera. She flashed a smile, and he took a picture of her. The twins emerged out of nowhere, smiling from ear to ear. Diamond was on Jeremy’s arm, and Jermaine had brought with him a beautiful Asian woman. Summer checked her physical appearance from head to toe; she was model material. The Asian greeted Summer with a handshake and then a brief hug.
“We’ll talk later,” Summer whispered in her ear before they separated.
Her penetrating eyes beamed into hers. Summer meant business, and that was the bottom line. She controlled her kids, and if someone came into their life that couldn’t benefit her, she wasn’t going to let it happen. She was advanced; her mind worked in overtime. She adored Diamond, who reminded her of herself. However, the real reason Diamond was with her son was because Summer saw a business venture through her family in Jonesboro South.
Meanwhile, downstairs Lil’ Danté was in his recording studio with a couple of friends he’d met since he had been in Atlanta with Diamond’s younger brother. They were really bullshitting in the recording booth, but they had a single that was getting played on the radio stations in Atlanta. They were just trying to get some legit money. Danté wasn’t really worried about no money, though. Basically, he already had it. Now, the greed of another part of the game was in him. It was in his bloodline.
A female came down the stairs in fitted jeans and a green motorcycle jacket. She was high yellow with jet-black silky black hair that fell to the middle of her back. She stepped in long strides as if she was a model for Baby Phat. She got to the booth and watched. Kane, Diamond’s younger brother, saw her first. His eyes searched the unknown female. She was breathtaking.
Danté saw her, too. He came out the booth with no shirt, a pair of Red Monkey jeans sagging off his ass, and a gleaming diamond and platinum chain hanging from his neck.
“Who let you down here?” he asked.
He stared into her hazel eyes. They were beautiful, but he wasn’t interested.
Kane and the other two guys stared from a distance. They thought Danté was spitting major conversation. They saw him point toward the stairs, and then the female left. Danté went back to where they were standing, drooling and lusting.
“Man, who was shawty?” Kane asked.
Danté shrugged. “Some chick. She can’t even speak English good.”
“Man, we need to be upstairs. That’s where all the action’s at,” another guy said.
Danté looked at him angrily. “Nigga, we ain’t no muthafuckin’ groupies. We on some get money shit ourselves.” Danté then looked at Kane. “You must ain’t told dis nigga what time it is?”
Before Kane could say anything, the other guy said, “Niggas sho’ talk jazzy out the mouth when they get a lil’ change in they…”
Before he could finish, Danté caught the guy with a powerful left hook that dropped him to his knees.
He grabbed his jaw and looked up at Danté. “Whatcha hit me fo’, shawty?”
Danté looked at Kane. They were partners for real, more than the other two guys.
“Let him know whuzzup, bruh. Nigga don’t know me fo’ real.”
With that said, there was nothing else spoken.
Chapter 63
Summer sat in a leather high back chair next to a huge fireplace in their family room. Her legs were tucked underneath her as she casually sipped champagne from a long-stemmed glass. Jermaine and Jeremy were sitting on a leather sofa across from her. Even though they were both in the NBA, they were two down-to-earth people. Danté was laid out on the loveseat sipping on spring water and fumbling with Alisa’s hair as she sat on the floor with the family dog, a well-trained Neo-Mastiff that drooled a little to
o much. His name was Jaws. Danté named him; he was always thinking crazy in some kind of way.
Summer allowed her eyes to scan the room. She had all of her children right there before her at the same time. She took another swallow from her glass and decided to share a small story with her kids.
“This does not leave this room,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
Jermaine leaned in closer, his elbows resting on his knees, and began to stare directly at Summer. “You think Alisa should hear this?” he asked.
Alisa was beautiful. Her skin was evenly toned, and when she smiled at her brother, she flashed a set of pearly white teeth that was lined with a thin strip of metal, a retainer.
“I’m old enough,” she whispered in her soft voice, while rubbing the back of Jaws’ neck.
Summer stared directly at her and then began explaining to them how she went to the feds when she got out and took over a strip club in Augusta. She told them how her and Bookie had come up with a plan to elude the feds. That’s when she admitted herself into Georgia Regional and played crazy. Everything was on point. She told them how she dressed up in rag doll clothing with different color tube socks pulled up to her knees. She stood on the front lawn in front of every high school in Augusta and walked around talking to herself. That was an idea she’d gotten from a guy who went by the name Screaming Demon. She had carried on like that for nearly two years, and it paid off for her. Then she went on and on about Danté and their uncle. She saw the smiles that spread across the twins’ faces.
Then, out of the blue, Alisa asked, “What happened to Bookie?”
Summer downed the remainder of her champagne and removed her legs from under her. She stood up and walked across the floor to the wet bar that nearly took up the entire wall. Her back was to her kids, but when Lil’ Danté tried to quickly change the subject, Summer rejected his attempt. She turned and looked Lil’ Danté in his eyes. She was caught up for a moment and then she looked at Alisa.