by Foye, K'wan
“I paid for some information, and I intend to have it,” Animal whispered in his ear. Ten minutes later, he had Money Mike bound and in a world of pain.
“So what’s up, Mike? You ready to tell me something good? Where will my chickens come home to roost?” Animal asked.
Money Mike fought against the pain as best he could to reply, “C’mon, man, they’ll kill me if I say anything.”
Animal struck Monkey Mike in the eye with one of his chain-wrapped fists, spraying the shower curtain with more blood. He grabbed Money Mike by the jowls and watched his eyes began to tear from the bleach fumes. “And what do you think I’ll do if you don’t say anything?”
“Animal, stall me out,” Money Mike pleaded. “I got some money stashed not too far from here, about ten stacks. If you let me go, I swear on everything you can have it.”
Animal punched Money Mike in the face again. “Don’t play with me, Blood. You know I don’t play for money; I play for souls. Quit stalling and tell me what I need to know. Where is it going down?”
“I can’t do it, man! I just can’t,” Money Mike rasped. He knew by not talking there was a chance that Animal would kill him, but it would be a clean death. If he talked and Shai Clark found out, he would kill him too, but he would make it slow and painful.
“You must think I’m playing with you, Mikey.” Animal slowly undid the chains from his fists. He picked up a paring knife from the bathroom sink. Leaning in, he whispered softly to Money Mike. “Let me see if I can convince you of how serious I am.” Animal started at Money Mike’s collarbone and traced a blood trail across his chest and stopped at his stomach, where he pushed the knife into the soft skin of Money Mike’s gut.
“Please just kill me and get it over with,” Money Mike begged.
“I got no intentions on killing you. We’re just gonna have a bit of fun.” Animal cut him across the chest again. Once he had made a bloody mess of his chest and abdomen he went to work on his arms and legs, jabbing small holes in them with the paring knife. When he moved the knife to Money Mike’s eye, preparing to pluck it out, his victim decided he’d had enough.
“Wait,” he begged just above a whisper. His throat was raw from screaming, and he felt like he would black out.
“What’s that?” Animal cupped his hand to his ear. “You got something you want to tell me?” Money Mike mumbled an address into Animal’s ear that brought a broad smile to his face. “See? Was that so hard? You did good, Mikey, and you should be rewarded,” Animal drew the knife back.
“You said you wouldn’t kill me!” Money Mike said.
“And I am a man of my word,” Animal told him before jamming the knife deep into Money Mike’s nuts. The pain was so intense that Money Mike couldn’t even scream. “I ain’t gonna kill you, but you’ll probably off yourself rather than live the rest of your days with no dick. Thanks for the information.” Animal patted Money Mike on the cheek playfully and left him chained to the shower curtain with the knife still dangling from between his legs.
The plan was for Alonzo to meet Ashanti in front of the building at sundown, but at the last minute, Ashanti had called him and changed the plan. He told Zo to meet him at Grant’s Tomb in the park. The moment he hung up with Ashanti Alonzo got a queasy feeling in his gut. What could he possibly want to talk about in the middle of the park that they couldn’t talk about in front of the building where they always held counsel? Alonzo smelled a rat, so he made sure he packed his rat killer . . . a long barrel .45.
Alonzo got to the park fifteen minutes early and Ashanti was already there, which was unlike him. That boy would be late to his own funeral, but he showed up early for the supersecret meeting that he had called. The situation was getting fishier by the minute. He checked to make sure his .45 was loaded and easy to get to if he needed it before he approached Ashanti.
“What’s goodie?” Ashanti stood and extended his hand.
“Ain’t shit.” Alonzo pulled him in for an embrace, pressing his body against Ashanti in the process to see exactly where Ashanti had his gun concealed.
“You wanna hit this?” Ashanti held out the blunt that he was smoking.
“I’m good. So what’s up, man? Why we out here in the park? What’s so secret that we couldn’t talk in front of the building or in one of the apartments?”
Ashanti looked around suspiciously before answering. “Got some real heavy shit on my mind and it ain’t for everybody’s ears, feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you,” Alonzo said in an even tone. “Shit is getting crazy out here, dawg.” Ashanti exhaled smoked through his nose. “First, this thing with Shai, and now these two detectives all on a nigga back.”
“I peeped that. What was that all about, fam?” Alonzo quizzed him.
Ashanti shrugged. “You know Brown and Alvarez. They always hint at shit, but never come out and actually say what the fuck they’re trying to get at. All they do is talk.”
“And what they wanna talk to you about, Ashanti?”
“Murders,” Ashanti said as if it was nothing. “They’re trying to connect King James to the dead bodies that been popping up.”
“That don’t make sense. King keeps a low profile, so how would the police even know to look in his direction?” Alonzo reasoned. He was trying to give Ashanti an out.
Ashanti looked at him as if it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard. “I think we both know the answer to that one.”
“Somebody is talking,” Alonzo said.
Ashanti nodded. “And we know the penalty for betrayal, don’t we?”
“Death.”
“Ain’t nothing in the world lower than a snitch, and whoever it is running their mouth gotta get pushed off the man, regardless of who it is,” Ashanti said matter-of-factly. “That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about, Zo. I got something I need to get off my chest, and I’m not sure how you’ll react to it.”
“Only one way to find out,” Alonzo said. His voice was calm, but inside, he was going to pieces with each word of Ashanti’s confession.
“I know you’ve been wondering about the way I been acting lately.” Ashanti looked up at the stars with his back to Alonzo. “Everything just got so crazy so fast that I’m still trying to figure out how it got to this point. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, the game throws you a twist. I’m in deep, Zo, real deep, and I ain’t sure what to do.”
“What did you do, Ashanti?” Alonzo was inching up on his friend with the .45 dangling in his hand. His eyes stung, but he wouldn’t let them water.
“It ain’t what I’ve done that concerns me, it’s what I’m gonna do. I think I’ve gone too far to turn back, and I’m sorry to have to bring you into it, but I’m in a real bind. I need your help . . . we need your help.”
Alonzo paused. “Who the hell is we?”
Ashanti turned around. “I can show you better than I can tell you.” He nodded behind Alonzo.
When Alonzo turned around he found himself staring down the barrels of two rose-colored Glocks. The man holding the weapons cracked a half smile, catching the streetlight on his jeweled teeth.
“Ashanti,” Animal addressed his protégé but kept his eyes and guns on Alonzo, “if all your friends greet you with guns, I’d hate to meet your enemies.”
Alonzo’s head whipped back and forth in confusion. “Ashanti, what the fuck going on?”
“Zo, this is the secret I’ve been keeping. I don’t think you’ve ever met, but I’m sure you’ve heard of the big homie Animal,” Ashanti said proudly.
Alonzo was taken aback. Within a few minutes he had seen two unlikely things: himself about to shoot one of his closest friends thinking he was a snitch and a legend resurrected from the grave. He had heard stories about Animal, his unfortunate rise and fall, but to see him live and in the flesh was almost surreal. His mind was immediately flooded with a million questions. “My nigga, what’s this all about?”
“Payback,” Ashanti told him. He went on to give Alonzo
the short version of what brought them to that point, with Animal occasionally filling in blanks. By the time Alonzo finished hearing the tragic story, his head felt like it was spinning.
“Seems we ain’t the only ones with an axe to grind against the Clarks,” Alonzo said.
“I’m gonna grind more than an axe,” Animal assured him.
“Look, Zo, we kinda short on time, so I’m gonna keep it as tall with you as I possibly can. We about to jump out the window with no parachutes and get at ya man, Shai. The deck is stacked against, but at this point, we ain’t got much choice other than finishing the game. I understand if you wanna step off, and I won’t hold it against you, but I wouldn’t be mad to have the two cats I love the most on both my flanks in this battle.” He looked from Animal to Alonzo. “Whether you’re in or not, this is something I gotta do.”
Alonzo looked into Ashanti’s eyes and saw no fear, only determination. He was about to go against insurmountable odds and would do it with pride, all because it meant something to his friend. Little Ashanti was a real soldier. Alonzo was sorry he had ever doubted him and would never make that mistake again.
“Fuck it, who wants to live forever anyway, right? What’s the game plan?”
THIRTY-NINE
FRANKIE FELT LIKE SHE HAD JUST LAY down for her nap when she heard her cell phone ringing. She rolled over and plucked it from the nightstand, looking at the caller ID with one eye. She saw Cutty’s name flashing across the screen and hit IGNORE. It had been a long day, and she was tired as hell, so the last thing she wanted to do was chitchat with anyone, especially him. As soon as her cell stopped ringing her house phone started. She placed the pillow over her head trying to drown it out, knowing that it was Cutty calling again. When the ringing stopped and the answering machine picked up, she heard his gruff voice come through the speaker.
“Frankie Angels, I know your ass is up there. I’m in front of your building. We got business to discuss, so bring your ass downstairs so we can talk. You hear me, Frankie? Girlie, if you keep ignoring me, then I’m gonna start leaning on this car horn until you come see what I want or somebody calls the police. Stop playing with me, Frankie,” he threatened.
Frankie let out a long sigh from beneath her pillow. She knew if she continued to ignore Cutty he would make good on his threat. With a low growl, she rolled out of bed and prepared to go see what the hell he wanted. When she came out of the building she was dressed in sweatpants, a bathrobe, head scarf, and wore mismatched furry slippers. Boots and Vashaun were sitting in their usual spots on the stoop. Vashaun gave her a half-hearted wave, but Bess remained silent. She had been acting like she had an attitude with Frankie ever since she stopped Veronica from taking advantage of Porsha. It made things a bit tense with them living in the same building, but Frankie didn’t care. The chicks on her block were cool, but she and Porsha had broken bread. They had been up together and down together, and that held a lot more weight. Frankie returned Vashaun’s half-hearted wave and ignored Bess, continuing to Cutty’s truck, which was idling near the curb.
“Get in.” Cutty nodded in the way of a greeting. “Damn, you look like a hood rat,” he joked once she was inside the truck.
“Don’t start with me, Cutty. I ain’t in the mood for it today.” Frankie glanced over at Bess and Vashaun, who were both clocking her hard.
Cutty peeped it too. “These bitches giving you trouble? You know I got a few homegirls that’ll come through here and tighten them up on the strength,” he offered.
“Nah, it ain’t that serious. So what’s so important that you couldn’t call instead of coming all the way out here?” Frankie asked. She wanted to be rid of Cutty so she could get back to her much-needed nap.
“You know, I don’t do them phones like that. Besides, I had some business out this way at Blood Orchid,” he told her.
“Blood Orchid? What the hell you doing in there?”
“That’s none of your concern, li’l girl. Anyhow, I came out here to holla at you about putting in some work. You down for that?”
“I’m always down to make some paper. What’s the lick? Some old-ass trick need fleecing?” she asked.
“Nah, something a li’l heavier. I got the plug on a high-stakes card game that’s supposed to be going down tonight.”
“Tonight? That’s kinda short notice,” she said. Normally they cased a spot before they hit it, and it was unlike Cutty to move spontaneously.
“I know, but when opportunity knocks, you gotta be ready to open the door. There’s gonna be a lot of money at that game, and we need it, feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you,” Frankie said uncertainly.
Cutty looked at her. “You ain’t getting cold feet on me are you, Frankie Angels?”
“Nah, Cutty. I’m just thinking about how we gonna pull this off. If the card game is as heavy as you say, I know there’s gonna be security. What are we supposed to do, shoot our way in and out?”
“Frankie, I’m crazy, not stupid. Getting in is the easiest part, especially since we’re invited. This bitch-ass nigga uptown who owes me some paper is a guest of this card game, so we’re rolling in with him. I’m posing as his muscle, and you’ll play the role of his pampered whore,” Cutty laughed.
“Why I gotta be his whore? Why can’t I just be his girl or his chick?”
“Frankie, you can be whatever your mind tells you to be for this caper. As long as you’re on time, I could care less.”
“Nigga, you know Frankie Angels is always on time. You just do your part and make sure we ain’t walking into no bullshit. I ain’t with no cowboy shit, Cutty,” she warned.
“Frankie, this is easy money, ma. Ain’t gonna be nothing but a bunch of old washed-up hustlers who think they still got it and a few young boys hanging around to carry their change purses. Once they see that iron flashing, ain’t nobody gonna want no sauce. I can’t do this without you, Frankie Angels. You with me?”
Frankie weighed it. She and Cutty had been mostly doing cons or high-end rip-offs, and it had been awhile since she’d had to point a gun at anybody. A part of her was nervous, but on the other hand, she knew if Cutty was jumping out the window with less than a day’s preparation there was some heavy paper on the line, and she needed the money.
“I’m with you,” she said.
“That’s my bitch,” Cutty patted her on the leg.
“Don’t play with me, Cutty.”
“Sorry, I meant my dawg. You know I love you, Frankie Angels.”
She twisted her lips. “Love you too, career criminal. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’m going back upstairs to get in my bed,” she reached for the door handle.
He stopped her. “Actually, there is. You know, after we talked the other day it really got me to thinking . . . you know about how I’ve been moving.”
“So does that mean you’re finally gonna start treating Jada right?”
Cutty frowned. “Hell, nah. Fuck that thieving bitch. Jada is gonna continue to be my doormat until her debt is paid. I was talking about Fatima. I got enough paper put away to where I can slow down for a minute and try to take some time out for her. I been in prison so long that I really don’t know my kid, and I wanna change that.”
Frankie looked at him strangely. “You now, until this moment, I’d have never thought that you had a heart in that nappy chest of yours.” She plucked at one of his chest hairs peeking up through his shirt.
“Ouch!” He swatted her. “See, here I am trying to have a moment with you and you wanna go and fuck it up, just like a woman.” Cutty shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Cutty. On the real, I think it’s a good idea. Little girls need their daddies, no matter how grown they are.”
“Yeah, Fatima is a wild one.” He laughed. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. I’d really like for you to meet her too.”
Frankie smiled. “I’d like that. But first, you two spend some time together trying to mend those fences. We can do the introduct
ions after that.”
“Bet. Who knows, maybe me, you, and Fatima can—”
“Let me stop you before you ruin this li’l moment, Cutty,” Frankie interrupted. “You know I don’t shit where I work. I ain’t fucking with you like that.”
“Frankie, you act like I’m an ugly nigga or something,” he said defensively.
“No, Cutty. You’re actually very handsome, but that’s only on the outside. I know how you think, so I could never fuck with you like that. If you ever tried to treat me like you treat Jada, I’d kill you in your sleep, so let’s not even put ourselves through the motions,” she got out of the truck.
“One day, Frankie Angels!” he called after her.
“I doubt it, but you can hold on to hope for as long you like,” she said over her shoulder and sashayed toward her building.
As she approached the stoop, she noticed Bess and Vashaun staring at her. From the way they suddenly got quiet she knew that they had been talking about her. When Frankie made eye contact with the girls, Vashaun turned her eyes away, but Bess kept staring. Frankie didn’t do eye battles; she was more into hand-to-hand combat, so she decided it was time to confront Bess and see just where she wanted to go with it.
“What up?” Frankie stood in front of the stoop and addressed the girls.
“What’s going on, Frankie?” Vashaun gave her phony smile. Bess just rolled her eyes.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. What’s good with you, Bess?” Frankie called her out.
“Ain’t shit good with me.” Bess snaked her neck.
“Obviously, because you walking around with an attitude with me like I kicked your dog,” Frankie stated. “You got a problem with me or something, Bess?”
Bess turned and looked up at Frankie. “As a matter of fact, I do. That was some bullshit you pulled the other day, Frankie.”
“What, you mean during the fight? Bess, you know homie tripped Porsha, and it wouldn’t have been right to let Veronica get at her. That shit was foul,” Frankie explained.