The Good Son

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The Good Son Page 6

by K'wan


  “That kid of yours has got some serious trust issues,” Shai said after the others had gone.

  “In this line of work, can you blame him?” Chance asked seriously. “Ghost can be a little stiff, but the boy is a damn good son. I can always depend on him in a pinch. I wish I could say the same about that other boy of mine.”

  “Shadow giving you grief?” Shai asked after the youngest of the King children.

  “Grief is a nice way to put it. It’s more like a heart condition,” Chance sighed.

  “He in the streets?” Shai asked in surprise. He knew that Chance felt the same way about Shadow as Poppa had about him and kept him away from the family business.

  “Hell nah, man. I’d never let Shadow anywhere near this mess. Besides that, he ain’t got the stomach for what we do. He’s a little on the tender side if you ask me. I don’t mind that so much, though. Him being spooked of the life will keep his ass out of prison. It’s his lack of motivation that gets on my damn nerves. I got him a summer internship at one of my realty offices and he would either show up late, high or not at all. I had to fire him. Can you believe that? I had to fire my own kid!” He shook his head in disappointment. “I don’t know how I produced a kid that lazy. Seems like all he wants to do is smoke weed and chase pussy.”

  “I know a thing or two about that,” Shai said, recalling how he was in high school. “It’s a phase, Chance. He’ll grow out of it.”

  “I sure hope so. But forget all that. This is your special day and I’m heaping all my problems on you. How does it feel knowing you’re gonna be a daddy soon? I know you’re happy!”

  “Yeah, but to be honest I’m more nervous than anything. I don’t know nothing about being a dad,” Shai admitted.

  “Neither did I my first time around, but by the third one I pretty much got the hang of it,” Chance joked.

  “Third? Sheesh, I just wanna make it through the first one without fucking up before I start looking that far down the road.”

  “You’re gonna be a great dad, Shai, just like your old man. Poppa Clark had a good heart, and he was always very fair. I’m sure those same qualities have rubbed off on you.” He patted Shai on the back good-naturedly. “That also brings me to a little piece of business I need to rap with you about.”

  Shai should have known it was coming; it was Chance’s style. Unlike some of the other Clark associates, Chance had made more money with words than he did bullets. He had a way with getting you comfortable enough to drop your guard before making his play. Chancellor King was the only gangster Shai knew that had been elected into a city office position twice. In addition to running his crime family in Five-Points, he also sat on the City Council. Rumor had it that he had his eyes set on one day running for mayor, and for as slick as he was, Shai didn’t doubt that he at least had a boxer’s chance of winning.

  “I already know, the expansion,” Shai cut to the chase.

  “Right,” Chance confirmed. “Look, I don’t mean to be bringing this shit up on the day of your baby shower, but’s it’s kind of a time-sensitive matter on my end. I got some irons in the fire that this move is depending on.”

  “The consummate hustler,” Shai smirked. “Chance, I wanna help you out on this but this is a decision that can’t be made overnight. There are other things that factor in before I can say yay or nay on this.”

  “You mean like Wongs?” Chance raised an eyebrow.

  Shai was thrown off by the statement, but tried his best not to let his face betray it. “I just need to make sure it all makes sense.”

  Chance laughed. “Shai, I’m a politician. It’s my job to spot bullshit before the bull even knows it has to take a dump. I know you got a thing going on with the Wongs, but I can assure you that my interest in that territory won’t affect your money or theirs. This move I’m trying to make is totally legit. I got my eye on some property down that way and wanna jump on them while they’re still letting them go for below market value. No street shit.” He all but confirmed what Swann had told Shai earlier.

  “Maybe not now, but who’s to say it’ll stay that way when Ghost is in charge?” Shai asked, letting Chance know that he wasn’t the only one who had done their research.

  Chance’s brow knotted. “Shai, can I speak freely?”

  Shai shrugged. “I wouldn’t respect anything less.”

  “This is bullshit,” Chance said flatly. “We both know that the only reason you’re stonewalling me over this is because you don’t wanna hurt Billy Wong’s feelings and potentially hurt your heroin profits. You been getting money with the Wongs for the last couple of years, but the Clarks and Kings been making money together for nearly two decades. I don’t wanna sound out of line or petty, but don’t that count for nothing?”

  Chance had a point. The Kings had always been good friends to the Clarks, and on occasion even allies when beef popped off. Poppa Clark had a great deal of respect for Chance for his loyalty and the old man knew it, which is why he had attempted to use it as his trump card. It was a classic Chancellor King move that Shai saw coming even before he opened his mouth.

  Shai nodded as if he was weighing the old man’s request. “You’ve spoken your piece, and now I’ll speak mine. All these things you say are true; my father respected you and the friendship between our two families. He was always big on friends, but this isn’t a matter of friendship you’ve brought to me. This is about profit. As you so graciously pointed out, I get money with the Wongs. If I shrink the space they have to move in, it shrinks what they’ve been kicking back to my family for the good deed. That being said; I couldn’t begin to even consider such a move unless I had a guarantee that it wouldn’t affect my bottom line.”

  “You trying to muscle me?” Chance’s eyes flashed anger.

  “Chance, as someone who knows my pedigree, you should know better than that. I got too much respect for you and your history in this city to ever come at you sideways. All I’m saying is that one hand washes the other and two wash the face.”

  “I get it,” Chance said reluctantly. “So how much you talking, or do you want points off the deal I’m gonna make?”

  “Neither,” Shai said, much to Chance’s surprise. “I wasn’t gaming when I said I respected our family’s friendships. I know with retirement pending you’re just trying to set yourself a nest-egg and my hand don’t belong in that.”

  “So, what you want?” Chance asked suspiciously. Shai smiled, and extended his hand. “Only a friend if I ever find myself in need.”

  Chance looked at Shai’s hand as if it was a poisonous snake. “Okay,” he reluctantly shook it.

  “Glad we understand each other. I’ll be in touch,” Shai said over his shoulder as he walked off to mingle with the rest of his guests.

  CHAPTER 8

  “About time you pried yourself loose. I thought he was gonna spend the rest of the night yapping your ear off,” Angelo said when Shai approached. As usual, he was dressed in a gray suit and white shirt. His hair was cropped close on the side with the top growing out only slightly longer. It had once been rich and black, but you could now see the first signs of silver popping up.

  “You know Chance likes to talk.” Shai gave Angelo dap.

  “More like negotiate. What did he want this time?” Angelo asked.

  “How do you know he wanted anything?” “Because a man doesn’t spend twenty minutes whispering about the weather.”

  Shai laughed. Angelo had always been very perceptive, which is why he spent so many years as the eyes in back of Poppa Clark’s head. “Pressing me about that expansion again.”

  Angelo shook his head. “That Chance King and his dreams of glass towers in the sky. Fool owns damn near every piece of property south of Houston and is still looking to snatch up more land? Greedy muthafucka.”

  “That ain’t greed, Angie. That’s foresight. Real estate is big business, and I’m kinda tight we didn’t really dig our claws into it,” Shai said.

  “What you talking abo
ut? I know for a fact that Poppa owned some buildings uptown and three houses in the Bronx that I can think of off top of my head. Not to mention the spots I didn’t know about,” Angelo pointed out.

  Shai shook his head sadly. “Damn near all that shit was in the wind. I had to liquidate most of the properties held by Clark Lansky realty to get up the money to spring Tommy from the can.”

  “Damn, I had no idea. What about the lots in Queens that he was planning to build the casino on?” Angelo asked hopefully.

  “You mean the three empty acres of concrete foundation that we can’t do shit with?” Shai corrected him. “When my father was killed, most of the people who were in with him on the casino found other shit to do with their money. Even with Sol still at the table with us they feel like it’s too big of a risk for someone who doesn’t know shit about that side of the business.”

  “That’s fucked up, with a capital F. Couldn’t we still move forward on our own with it?” Angelo asked.

  “I’d thought about it, but to be honest we don’t have the connections or the capital to pull it off,” Shai admitted.

  “Listen Shai, I got about five hundred thousand tucked for a rainy day. It’s yours if you need it,” Angelo said sincerely.

  Shai smiled at his friend’s display of loyalty. “I appreciate it, man, but no thanks. We ain’t hardly hurting for no paper, we just ain’t got it to make a move that big without feeling the pinch on the backend. Besides, even if we did finish building the hotel and casino, without the gaming licenses and nod from the zoning board that my father’s so-called friends were supposed to take care of, we’d never be able to open for business.”

  Angelo shook his head. “What the fuck happened to loyalty?”

  “It died with my father,” Shai sighed.

  About then, Swann ambled up. Trailing him, scowling at everything moving, was one of his young wolves. Tech was his name if Shai recalled correctly. “I see you crawled out of that hole and finally came out to get some of this love.”

  “This ain’t love, baby boy, it’s one big ass hustler’s convention. Half these niggas got a business proposal in one hand and a knife in the other,” Shai laughed.

  “I’m glad you’re in a good mood, because I wanted to have a few words with you about my little man, right here,” Swann ushered Tech forward. “You remember, Tech, right?”

  Shai studied the young man for a few seconds. “Yeah, yeah… I remember you. The last time we seen each other, you and your man pulled some Wes Craven shit and dropped a body part off to me in the middle of having lunch.”

  “My fault about that. My homie Animal can be kinda literal in his tasks sometimes. It won’t happen again,” Tech said apologetically.

  “Let’s hope not. We like to move quiet around these parts, but you and your Dog Pound can be a little loud for my tastes. Unnecessary bodies bring unwanted heat.”

  “I feel you, Shai, but rest assured we ain’t never put a nigga down unless he had it coming or got too attached to his goods,” Tech laughed. Shai didn’t.

  “Well, if you plan on working for me then you need to tone it down. Nobody dies unless I say so,” Shai told him.

  Tech’s cheek twitched, but his expression never changed. “With all due respect, Shai, I didn’t hook into Swann because I wanted a job. I’m looking to prove my worth.” The declaration caught everyone by surprise, especially Swann.

  “Ah, Shai, I don’t think he meant…” Swann began, but Shai cut him off.

  “Nah, let him speak,” Shai insisted.

  Tech could feel the tension between them. It wasn’t what he had intended, but it lingered nonetheless. Shai was a man who could have him and everyone he had ever come in contact with wiped off the map with one phone call. He had to choose his next few words wisely. “What I mean to say is; we would be honored if you could find a seat for us at your table. Your bloodline is official and your family is like hood royalty, but at the same time you already got enough hands in your dinner plate. The Dog Pound has always operated independent and I didn’t realize that rocking with y’all was gonna change that. For as much as we would appreciate you feeding us, we’d rather you showed us how to fish.”

  Shai looked at Swann, who appeared embarrassed, before turning his attention back to the young man. “And what makes you think I’d even consider teaching you anything?”

  “Because you’re familiar with the Pound’s body of work,” Tech said honestly. “No slight to any of your people, but when the shit hits the fan, you want a nigga like me standing in between you and whatever the other side is planning.”

  Shai stood analyzing Tech for what seemed like an eternity. In his eyes he could see that the young man believed everything he was saying. There was a conviction to Tech’s words that reminded him of how Swann carried himself at that age, which was the only reason Shai didn’t dismiss him like he would have any other soldier trying to get close to him. “You got a set of balls in you like I haven’t seen in a long time. If Swann is smart, he’ll keep you close.”

  Tech wanted to smile, but instead he just nodded. “Thanks, Shai. That means a lot coming from you.”

  “Thank me now, but you might hate me later,” Shai said prophetically, before patting Tech on the shoulder letting him know their conversation was at an end.

  “Tech, go grab us a few shots. I’ll catch up with you in a few,” Swann said, picking up on Shai’s signal.

  Tech was rough around the edges, but smart enough to know when he was being dismissed. “That’s what it is then,” he gave Swann dap. “Congratulations on the baby, Shai. Hope we get to talk again real soon.” He walked off.

  “That little nigga is a headache,” Angelo said once Tech was out of earshot.

  “Yeah, but he’s also incredibly vicious, which ain’t a bad trait to have during these troubled times,” Swann said.

  “God forbid,” Shai chuckled.

  Angelo’s cell phone rang in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the screen before frowning. “I need to take this.” He excused himself and answered his cell.

  “Tech is a knucklehead,” Shai continued, “but tolerable. It’s his little crime partner that creeps me the fuck out. That boy has got some very deep issues - issues that I don’t want anywhere near me or my family.”

  “No worries, Shai. Tech got all them little niggas in line,” Swann assured him.

  “For their sakes I hope so. I won’t have another Amine poisoning this family,” Shai said. Amine had been one of the youngsters on the come-up when Shai had first gotten kicked out of school and first started dabbling in the family business. He’d been one of the first examples Shai had to make when he came into power. His big mouth and disloyal nature had cost the Clarks a great deal, and as a result Shai had adopted a policy of whacking weeds as soon as he noticed them sprouting.

  Angelo was heading back in their direction. He had a worried expression on his face.

  “Everything good?” Swann asked before Shai could.

  “Nah, man.” Angelo extended the cell phone to Shai. “It’s Sol,” he answered the question in his eyes.

  “Yeah?” Shai spoke into the receiver. Within a few words his expression matched Angelo’s. “Wait, not on the phone. I’ll be there to handle it personally. Give me an hour,” he ended the call.

  “What’s good?” Swann asked once Shai had gotten off the phone.

  “I gotta out by the airport and handle something real quick. Angelo, go find Big Doc. I need y’all with me. Swann, you keep the party going and tell Honey I’ll be back shortly,” he tossed the phone back to Angelo.

  “Shai, if it’s drama, I’m going with you. Don’t leave me here to play host,” Swann said.

  “Ain’t no drama, my nigga. Just another headache to deal with,” Shai told him and walked off.

  Swann watched his friend walking away, shaking his head. “A boss’ work is never done.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “So, tell me why we gotta do this again?” Bruno ask
ed from his perch on the cushy armchair. He was a brutishly built man with a chiseled jaw and large block head. He squirmed in his seat trying to flex the shoulders in his suit jacket into giving him some extra room. He hated suits, primarily because he had to pay extra money to get them tailored to fit his large frame. Bruno was far more comfortable in sweatsuits and sneakers, but Louie had insisted that they all get dressed up for the function.

  “Because Frankie sent us. Mr. G needs a favor done,” Louie replied. He was seated across from them in a chair similar to the one Bruno sat on, absently picking the dirt from beneath his fingernails. For the last thirty minutes, they had been sitting in the receiving room waiting for an audience with their host.

  “Then how come Frankie didn’t come instead of sending us?” Bruno asked.

  Louie stopped his picking and turned his gaze to Bruno. “What are you, trying to be cute or something?”

  Bruno looked over at the weasel-faced man. Louie was known to fly into murderous fits over little things so Bruno was careful not to provoke him. “I didn’t mean nothing by it, Louie. It’s just that for an occasion like this one, I’d think Frankie would’ve wanted to be here, or maybe even Mr. G personally. We’re just button-men.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Mel interjected. He was a handsome man with evenly tanned skin, and dark hair that he wore high and slicked back. “You humps still got a little ways to climb up the ladder, but I’m a lock to get made the next time they open the books.”

  Louie laughed. “You’ve been saying that for the last five years and you’re still right down here with the rest of us, doing Frankie’s dirty work.”

  “Hey, Louie,” Mel flipped him the bird. “Right here, huh?”

  “Listen, fellas,” Louie began, “I’m sure we all got better shit we could be doing other than kissing this shine’s ass, and those of you who want to leave are free to do so, but I’m not gonna be the one to go and tell Frankie that we don’t wanna do this for him.” The men exchanged looks, but no one made an attempt to leave. “Just like I thought. We don’t have a choice so we might as well as make the best of it. Let’s speak our piece, drink up some of that high end booze they’re serving on the lawn and get the fuck outta here.”

 

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