by K'wan
Her hand dipped inside her clutch bag and came out holding a small .22. She scanned the darkened street looking for signs of life but didn’t see any.
“Yo, Meeka!” a familiar voice called from somewhere to her right.
Meeka strained her eyes to pierce the shadows near the front of the warehouse. She didn’t spot it on the first sweep, but on the second she saw it: the burning ember from the end of a cigarette attached to a silhouette. “Who that?” Meeka called, chambering a round into her gun.
The shadows parted and from them stepped a large man dressed in a black leather blazer and black turtleneck. His name was Frank, but his friends had nicknamed him Frankenstein from his striking resemblance to Mary Shelley’s character. Frank stood at least six foot five with shoulders wider than Meeka’s entire body. Incredibly long arms hung down so far that he barely had to bend over to tie his shoe. Frank was a physically imposing man, but it was his face that made him the stuff of nightmares. He had a large, block-shaped head, and a jaw that looked like it had been carved from stone. His thick, blackened lips always seemed to be pulled back into a sneer, baring his crooked yellow teeth. A scar that was shaped like a lightning bolt stretched from his forehead and stopped just above his eyes. Frank had a face that only a mother could love, and even that was up for question.
“Jesus, Frank, you scared the hell out of me!” Meeka snapped.
“Sorry about that,” Frank said sincerely. “You here for the party, right?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like there’s any partying going on down here.” Meeka looked up at the still warehouse.
Frank laughed, sounding like a car with a bad muffler. “You know with Christian nothing is ever as it seems. C’mon, I’ll walk you up.”
Meeka followed Frank around the side of the warehouse to a secondary entrance. It was an iron gate that stood well over twelve feet from the ground. She assumed it was used for loading and unloading. From the looks of it, it would’ve taken Meeka and two more people to lift it, but Frank did it effortlessly with one hand. She dipped under the opening he had provided and found herself standing in a large room that smelled like something had died in it. The only light was coming from the space under the gate Frank had opened and as soon as he closed it, Meeka found herself engulfed in total darkness. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt one of Frank’s rough hands engulf hers.
“Stay close and watch your step,” Frank told her.
Nervously Meeka allowed Frank to pull her along through the warehouse, hoping to God she didn’t trip over anything and break her neck in the heels she was wearing. Meeka couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, but Frank navigated the darkness with ease. After a few seconds of walking, Meeka saw a light in the distance. As they got closer she could see it was another door. When Frank pushed it open Meeka was temporarily blinded by the bright halogen lights that illuminated the adjoining hallway. From there Frank took her to a freight elevator and motioned for her to step inside.
“Aren’t you coming up?” Meeka asked when she realized Frank wasn’t getting on the elevator with her.
“I’ll be up in a few. Christian has got something that needs handling,” Frank told her before slamming the elevator gate shut.
Between the shaky elevator and her already shot nerves, Meeka felt her stomach churn. She had been running with Boogie and his crew for a while, and for the most part they had all embraced her, treating her like one of the fellas, except Christian. So far he had been the least receptive to her presence, sometimes acting as if he didn’t even notice her. Because he was their leader Meeka wanted to gain his approval most of all, but Christian wasn’t easily swayed. He was a very different kind of man from the others; in fact, he was like no one Meeka had ever met.
The freight elevator came to such a rough stop that it almost knocked Meeka off balance. She kept her hand close to her pistol, ready for whatever she might encounter. When the freight elevator gate was pulled back, Meeka was speechless.
It was like crossing through the gates of hell. The elevator opened up into a large room that had been converted into a pop up–style night club. There were about 300 people crammed into a space equipped to host half that number. Strobe lights flashed in multiple colors making it hard for her to focus and the music played so loud that it felt oppressive. Shielding her eyes against the light, Meeka timidly started making her way across the dance floor in search of her party.
Meeka’s head swiveled left and right taking in the circus unfolding around her. People of all races, shapes, and colors paraded around the room, dancing and drinking like it was their last night on earth. In the middle of the floor two women wearing way too much makeup tried to suck the breath from each other’s mouths, while gyrating against each other to the heavy pulse of the music. A man wearing a wrinkled business suit strolled up and watched the girls intently. They took a break from their kissing and invited him to join them. The duo was now a trio of interlocking lips and moving body parts. In a dark corner Meeka spied a pretty, pale woman who wore her hair in a half-shaved blond mob, and wore dark lipstick, sharing a six-foot bong. It was the most unlikely collection of people Meeka had ever seen in one place. From the freaks to the chic and everything in between, Christian had brought them out for his birthday.
It took Meeka nearly fifteen minutes to pick her way from one side of the room to the other. She spotted Boogie sitting in a private section that rested upon a four-foot platform, giving those seated a bird’s-eye view of the entire room. He was whispering into the ear of a man Meeka only knew as Ghost. Meeka had met Ghost a time or two, but he never spoke and always seemed to vanish just as suddenly as he popped up. The level of respect Boogie and Christian showed him told Meeka that he was someone important, but she didn’t dare pry as to how important. Ghost frightened her and whenever she saw him she gave him a wide berth.
There were several girls occupying the space with them. Half looked like streetwalkers and the other half were confused young girls who hadn’t realized what they signed up for. They flocked around the crew, drinking their liquor, doing their drugs, and compromising their integrity in hopes for a shot at the brass ring. Before the night was over a lucky few would be chosen, but most would end up with cab fare and a story to tell.
Sitting in the center of the chaos was the birthday boy, Christian Knight, or to those who knew the darker side of him, Principe de La Noche, which translated to Prince of the Night. If Meeka had to sum Christian up in one word it would have been “beautiful.” He was almost a perfect shade of cherry wood, with soft, moist lips that always seemed to be curved into the faintest hint of a smile. He wore his hair tapered on the sides with deep, rolling waves on the top, highlighted over one temple with a splash of color that usually matched whatever outfit he was wearing. That day gold was the theme. He wore a shiny gold blazer, with a black and gold Versace with the top buttons undone showing off his well-defined chest.
Sitting at his feet were two buxom women, one of chocolate with rich dark hair, and the other of vanilla with golden curls. Two chains were attached to the diamond-studded dog collars around their necks, with Christian holding the ends of the chains like leashes. They were Christian’s playthings, Ebony and Ivory, who he brought out on special occasions.
Meeka watched Christian run his manicured fingernails through Ivory’s blond curls while whispering into Ebony’s ear. Ebony giggled as his hand traced a line from her face down the length of her body and disappeared between her legs. Ebony’s eyes rolled back in her head as Christian explored her insides in plain view of anyone watching. She was officially caught in his thrall, as were most women who came in contact with the Prince of the Night.
Christian was a club promoter by trade, but a criminal by nature. He always had the line on the best drugs and the hottest women, and had all access to the hottest spots. He was a man who didn’t limit himself to one hustle; he had his hands in a bit of everything. To those on the outside looking in the well-dressed and
somewhat eccentric youngster made an unlikely leader of the hardened killers who followed him. Christian was soft-spoken, flamboyant, and took more time and care with his appearance than a woman. Rumors circulated about Christian’s sexual fetishes but those who tested him found out that looks could be deceiving. Christian was as much of a predator on the streets as he was in the bedroom, and would end you without thinking twice about it. He was as cold-blooded as he was pretty.
Christian must’ve felt Meeka watching him because he pulled himself from the nape of Ebony’s neck and looked at Meeka. A smirk appeared on his face as he continued to play inside Ebony’s womb. Without taking his eyes off Meeka, he got the attention of one of the bodyguards and whispered something in his ear. A few seconds later the bodyguard was escorting Meeka up onto the platform.
Boogie was the first to greet her. “Glad you could make it.” He stood and hugged her.
“You know I had to come out and show love on the homie’s B-day,” Meeka told him. “Happy birthday, Christian.” She handed him an envelope from her purse.
Christian regarded the envelope before taking it from her. “You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did.” He proceeded to slice the envelope open with his pinky nail and examined the contents. When he saw what was inside, two tickets to a Knicks game, he looked genuinely surprised. “Wow, thank you so much! The Knicks are my favorite team.”
“Even though they ain’t had a winning season in damn near a decade.” Boogie snickered.
Christian frowned. “It would be a half-blind nigga like you who’d try to devalue such a thoughtful gift. Thank you, Meeka. Real talk, I appreciate these.”
“No problem. I figured you can take someone special with you.” Meeka cut her eyes at Ebony.
Christian caught the look and smirked. “Sadly, there isn’t currently anyone in my life who can seem to occupy me for more than a night or so at a time.” He patted the tops of both girls’ heads like they were simple house pets. Unexpectedly he grabbed two fistfuls of the girls’ hair and yanked their heads back. “They all here for a season, while I try to find reasons.” He released them. Christian turned his soft brown eyes to Meeka. “Well don’t just stand there like some gate-crasher.” He patted the empty seat opposite him. “Sit, drink, and be welcome, honey. Tonight, the world is your oyster.”
One thing Meeka could say about Christian was that he was a man who knew how to party. Bottles flowed, blunts were passed, and a good time was being had by all. One of the girls came by with a glass bowl containing an assortment of colorful pills. Boogie greedily snatched a handful and popped two of them, drawing a distasteful look from Christian. When the bowl came to Christian he plucked two of the pills from it and placed them on his tongue. Seductively, he leaned in and planted kisses on the waiting lips of Ebony and Ivory, slipping the pills into their mouths. He picked up a champagne glass and gave each of them a sip to wash them down.
Christian took two more pills from the bowl, and held them between his fingers in front of Meeka. “So what’s up, Alice? You ready to venture down the rabbit hole?”
Meeka sat there looking at the pills as if she was trying to figure what to make of them. Meeka could smoke and drink with the rest of them, but pills were out of her league. “Thanks, but I’m going to have to pass.”
“No need to be frightened, baby. This is just a little pick-me-up. It’s all the rage with the young party crowd. This little pill will make you feel like you’re on a roller coaster while sitting perfectly still,” he tried to persuade her.
“I’m not afraid, I just don’t rock like that. Designer drugs have never been my thing,” she said honestly.
“The lady is as wise as she is beautiful.” Christian smiled and tossed the pills back into the bowl. “I don’t indulge either, but I do love to watch. Nothing wrong with a little weed, but I frown on people in my origination who do more than that. Boogie is the rare exception because he’s easier to deal with when he’s in his happy place. Had you taken the pill there would’ve been no way I could’ve accepted you into my flock, little sheep. You’ve passed the test.”
“You were testing me?” Meeka asked in surprise.
“Everything is a test,” Boogie said from the sidelines. A dopey grin was plastered across his face, courtesy of the pills he’d popped.
Frankenstein appeared seemingly out of nowhere, looming silently over Christian. There was an irritated expression etched across his hard face. In one hand he held a black leather doctor’s bag. Christian waved him forward and Frank leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Meeka couldn’t hear what it was, but whatever had irritated Frank seemed to amuse Christian.
Christian stood, tethering the leashes of Ebony and Ivory to his chair until his return. “Walk with me, Meeka. I have something I want to show you.” He extended his hand.
When Christian laid those dreamy eyes on her she felt like she was powerless to resist and went with him without question.
Christian led Meeka across the warehouse, through the throngs of partygoers, with Frank and Boogie bringing up the rear. A burly man wearing woman’s clothing and a face full of makeup staggered into their path. Frank made to step forward but a dismissive gesture from Christian stopped him.
“Christian, dear boy, I’ve been trying to get a word in with you all night,” the cross-dresser said in a deep voice.
“My apologies, Beatrice. I’ve been otherwise occupied,” Christian said politely. “I trust you are enjoying yourself?”
“Hell yeah! Me and my girls have been having a grand old time.” Beatrice danced in place.
“Glad to hear it. With that being said, have you given any thought to my proposal?” Christian asked.
“Indeed I have and you can count me and my girls in,” Beatrice told him.
“Well this is excellent news indeed. You and I are going to make quite a bit of money together. This is cause for a celebration. Tell your girls the drinks and drugs are on me for the rest of the night.”
“Thanks, Christian. I appreciate that, but before we get to celebrating we still have to address the elephant in the room,” Beatrice reminded him.
Christian took one of Beatrice’s hands in his. “No need to worry about that. I’ll pay a call on your former employer and deliver the message personally.”
“Bless your heart.” Beatrice kissed the back of Christian’s hand. “You truly are a prince among savages. Enjoy the rest of your night. Oh, and happy birthday.” Beatrice smiled and walked off.
“Fucking fag,” Boogie mumbled once Beatrice was out of earshot.
Christian turned toward Boogie. “What was that?”
“Nothing, man,” Boogie said, realizing his mistake.
Christian walked over and stood directly in front of Boogie. Christian was taller, but Boogie outweighed him by quite a bit. Still, Boogie seemed small in his presence. “No, it sounded like you had something to say. I believe ‘fag’ was the word you used.”
Boogie sucked his teeth. “C’mon, man, I’m just saying I wasn’t feeling the way that thing was all up on you. Nigga was acting like he wanted to fuck you.”
Christian raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were jealous. What’s the matter, Boogie, you thinking about taking a crack at Beatrice?” he teased him.
“Fuck no! I rock with bitches, not no chumps!” Boogie declared.
“And that is exactly my point. A man who is confident in his own sexuality shouldn’t be made to feel uncomfortable by the preferences of others. You know my rules about those who choose to party under my roof. I don’t care if a person chooses to lay with man, woman, fish or foul, they’re all welcome so long as they can pay to play, and that includes the ‘children,’” he said, using a term that was usually reserved for members of the gay and lesbian community. “Do we understand each other?”
“Yeah, man,” Boogie relented.
“Good.” Christian patted his cheek. “I have no tolerance for bigots, Boogie, even the ones in
my own family.” He walked off.
Meeka looked over at Boogie, who was watching Christian and seething. From what Meeka knew for a fact Boogie was a raging bull and it usually took little to nothing to send him into a murderous rage, yet he had taken the scolding from Christian with the grace of a child who had just been disciplined. The display didn’t make Meeka question Boogie’s gangster at all, but it did raise some questions in her head about what kind of hold Christian had over those who followed him.
The rest of the walk was taken in total silence. At the back of the warehouse level they were on there was a door that led to a short flight of stairs. As they were walking up the stairs Meeka’s nose picked up on a familiar stench. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but it had the scent of something rotten. When they stepped out onto the next level it finally hit Meeka what she was smelling: death.
The tiled walls of the room they entered had once been white, but those days were long gone. Time and lack of care had made them a sickly shade of yellow. Along the walls were a few rusted stalls and there were drains cut into the floors. It hadn’t occurred to Meeka until then that the spot they’d picked to host Christian’s party had once been a slaughterhouse. She looked at the old and dried blood on the floor and wondered how many animals had met their ends in the room.
Christian brought the small group to a stop in front of one of the stalls. He leaned against the wall, arms folded and a disappointed look on his face. Boogie looked inside and made a face like he wanted to throw up. Frank just looked on with his usual emotionless expression.
“Don’t just stand there gawking. Come and have a look.” Christian waved Meeka forward.
Meeka sheepishly walked up and peered between the two larger men to see what they were looking at. The sight before her caused Meeka’s stomach to lurch and she almost vomited on Christian’s designer boots.
Inside the stall a man was suspended by his ankles from a chain hanging from the ceiling. His naked body was a mess of bruises and cuts. As Meeka’s eyes traveled the length of him and landed on his face she realized she knew him. His name was Robbie and she had met him earlier on in her dealings with Boogie and Christian. Robbie had been like a little brother to Christian so what he had done to land himself in that situation was beyond Meeka.