The Good Son

by K'wan

  “Ain’t shit, blood.” Swann gave Devil dap. “What brings you this way?”

  “When I heard you niggas stopped selling bricks to sell chicken, I had to come and see for myself if the rumors were true,” Devil joked.

  “Don’t go believing everything you hear,” Shai said, wiping his hands with a napkin. “So, who are your friends?” He was speaking about the girls, but his eyes were locked on Lady Monet. Though she was wearing sunglasses, he could feel her watching him too.

  “This is Lisa, Genie and Lady Monet, also known as Man-Eaters. They’re Big Dawg’s newest act,” Devil made the introduction.

  “A pleasure,” Shai greeted them with a nod.

  “So says you,” Monet capped, clicking her gum.

  “Show some respect when you’re speaking to this man!” Devil warned. “Shai ain’t no regular nigga, he’s the new king of Harlem.”

  “Cut that out, Devil. I ain’t the king of nothing but my house,” Shai said modestly.

  “Funny, he looks like a regular nigga with chicken grease on his face to me,” Monet capped.

  Shai grabbed the napkin and wiped his face. “I see this one has got jokes.”

  “Jokes, and a set of pipes that are out of this world. That little mulatto is gonna make us richer than we already are!” Devil boasted.

  “And what the fuck are we, chopped liver?” the dark-skinned one capped with an attitude. This was Genie.

  “Tuck your claws, ma. You know we do this shit in three-part-harmony,” Monet said reassuringly.

  “Y’all bitches can argue about who is gonna sing the lead later. Can we get some food now? I’m starving!” Lisa said dramatically.

  “Here.” Devil pulled out his bankroll and started counting out bills. “Y’all go in and get whatever you want.” He handed the ladies some money and the three of them disappeared inside. “Man, all them bitches do is eat and smoke weed,” he joked. “Say, I just came through to grab some food for the girls, Shai, but being that you’re here, Don B. has something he’d like to lay on the able for you.”

  “If y’all will excuse me, I left something inside,” Shai excused himself from the table and went back inside Daddy’s House.

  “What’s good with your man? My breath stink or something?” Devil was confused by Shai’s abrupt departure.

  “Devil, you been around long enough to know nobody talks street business with Shai directly,” Swann explained.

  “Aw, man. I know what it is, so you know I’d never come at you like that,” Devil said sincerely. “I came to talk some legit business. You know we just opened a new club downtown, right?”

  “I’d heard something about it,” Swann told him.

  “Well, we’re doing something for the anniversary of True’s passing,” Devil said as he crossed himself. “We wanna do it real big to honor his memory; booze, bitches, the whole nine yards. Bad Blood is going to headline, but Man-Eaters are the opening act. All the biggest players are coming out and ain’t none bigger than the Clark family. It’ll look real good to have y’all in the building. Bottles on us, of course.”

  “Shit, me and a few of the homies will slide through and show out. I don’t know about Shai, though. You know he don’t do clubs like that,” Swann said honestly.

  “Yeah, I’d heard he was kinda skittish these days,” Devil laughed mockingly. “Well, maybe the good king will change his mind when he hears what Don B. would like to offer him. Let me give you the short version,” he said as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

  *

  Shai stood in the window of Daddy’s House, watching Devil talking to his men. Big Doc’s face was unmoved, but Swann seemed very interested in whatever Devil had to say. That meant that whatever it was would likely be laid at Shai’s feet before the day was out.

  That’s how it worked. Everybody wanted something from him and Devil was no different.

  Whatever the OG was pitching to Swann to take back to Shai, he had already made his mind up that he would shoot it down. It didn’t have anything to do with Devil; he was a solid dude and true street nigga, but Shai knew that anything he brought to his table would be on behalf of his boss, Don B. Shai and Don B. knew each other, but they weren’t friends to speak of nor would they be. Don B. was arrogant, but he knew how to make a dollar, which Shai respected, but that was about where the buck stopped. There was no doubt that Shai could stand to benefit from doing business with a man like Don B., but he wouldn’t. Don B. was a man without honor and that was a deal breaker for Shai.

  Once he grew tired of watching them, he turned his attention to a more pleasant scene. Genie and Lisa floated over to where the old-school arcades were set up, engaged in a game of Ms. Pac-Man. Lady Monet was standing at the counter waiting for her food, and trying her best to ignore the constant advances of wayward young men. They were on her like flies on shit, and he couldn’t say that he blamed them. She wasn’t quite as pretty as Genie, or had as much body as Lisa, but Monet had presence. It was like when she entered a room, she sucked the life out of it. It was easy to see why Don B. pushed her as the front woman for the group.

  Shai watched in amusement as Lady Monet fended off advances with sharp words and an occasional hand slap. For the most part she was holding her own, but there was one dude who looked to be getting a little too aggressive. He was a short, thick cat, who Shai had seen around a few times, but didn’t know him by name. He was invading her space, and letting his hands roam uninvited. Shai turned to her protector, Devil, who was still occupied with Swann and unaware of the situation brewing. Shai was halfway across the room before he even realized that his feet were moving.

  “Nigga, is you hard of hearing? I said fuck off!” Monet was saying when Shai approached.

  “Bitch, I was good enough to trick on you when you were sliding up and down that pole at Shooters and now you wanna act brand new because you got a little record deal?” the kid pressed her.

  “Just because you tipped me a few times don’t mean you own me. And even if I was for sale, the price would be way too high for your slum ass. Now be gone!” Monet barked and turned her back to him.

  “You rotten whore!” He spun her back around and raised his hand to slap her, but Shai caught him about the wrist before the blow could fall. He spun, ready to turn his anger on Shai, but froze when he saw who it was.

  “I know you been here enough times to know what happens to niggas who try to show out up in here,” Shai said in an icy tone.

  “My fault, Shai. Just having a little misunderstanding with my lady. I’ll take her outside and finish this conversation.” The kid took Monet by the arm and tried to pull her out, but Shai stepped in front of him.

  “Nah, I think you’ll leave… alone, and count yourself thankful that you’re making your exit on your feet and not in a bag,” Shai told him.

  “Damn, it’s like that?” the kid asked in disbelief. Shai didn’t answer, just continued to glare. “You got it.” He began backing towards the exit. “And bitch I’ll see you again real soon,” he told Monet.

  “You good?” Shai asked once the threat had passed.

  “Yeah, and thanks, but I had it under control,” Monet told him.

  “I’m sure you did, but I wasn’t willing to gamble that pretty face of yours on it,” Shai smiled.

  “Your order comes to $62.50,” the girl working the register said as she sat the bags of food that Monet and her crew ordered on the counter. Monet was reaching into her purse to pay, but Shai stopped her.

  “Nah, her money is no good here,” Shai told the cashier. She gave him a knowing glance and went back to take another order.

  “Damn, first you save me from that stalker ass nigga and now you’re going to pay for my food? You’re either a real gentleman or somebody who thinks they got a shot at getting some pussy,” Monet said sarcastically.

  “I’m neither, shorty. Your food is on the house because I own the joint, and I ain’t got no immediate interests in your pussy.”

 
“Not yet, you don’t, but give yourself some time.” She ran her index finger down his shirt, letting it stop briefly at the pocket of his shirt before pulling her hand away. It was a subtle gesture, but the message behind it resonated.

  “You cocky as hell, ain’t you?”

  “But of course. Every good performer should be.” “So, is that what this is? A performance?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, is it?” Monet invaded his space. She wasn’t close enough to touch him, just enough so that he could feel her body heat.

  The scent of Monet’s braids invaded Shai’s nose, and tapped on the walls of his self-control. “You’re treading on dangerous ground, ma.”

  “Why? What you gonna do, stab me with that notorious pole of yours?” Monet began pacing a tight circle around Shai. “I know all about you, Slim,” she playfully addressed him by his nickname. Shai didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “When you and your crew first walked up, you acted like you didn’t know who I was.”

  “I never said I didn’t know who you were. Devil just assumed that,” she corrected him. “I was born and raised in Harlem. You’d have to be living under rock to not know who Shai Clark is. Besides, this isn’t the first time our paths have crossed.” She stopped her circling and stood in front of him.

  “I think I’d know if we met before.”

  Monet removed her sunglasses and bore into Shai with her hazel eyes. “You mean to say this face isn’t familiar to you?”

  Before their game of words could go any further, Devil appeared behind them. “What’s this?” he asked, giving both of them accusing looks.

  “Ain’t nothing,” Shai said with a guilty look on his face.

  “Looks like something to me,” Devil insisted. “Well if you must know; Shai was in here doing your job. Where the fuck was you when that creep ass nigga was in here trying to take my goodies?” Monet changed the subject.

  “What? Somebody tried you? Where the nigga at?” Devil looked around angrily.

  “I told you, Shai already took care of it,” she repeated.

  “Well now that Shai has saved your honor and you got your food, let’s get going. Don B. is expecting us at the studio.” Devil grabbed her arm and began half-dragging her towards the door.

  “Why don’t you take it easy?” Shai suggested.

  Devil stopped and gave Shai a menacing look. “No disrespect, Shai, but this lady is property of Big Dawg, and none of your business,” he said, and continued shoving her out.

  Shai followed them outside, watching as Devil shook Monet and barked on her on the way to the car. Shai wanted to intervene and have his men swoop in and rescue Monet, but to do so would have potentially sparked a beef with Big Dawg. Don B. and his minions weren’t in the streets anymore, but they still had heavy ties. They were no match for the Clarks, but it would have put Shai in the awkward position to have to explain to his solders that they were about to shed blood over a woman that Shai didn’t even know. So instead, he was forced to sit by and watch as Devil whisked Monet and the girls away.

  Shai folded his arms in quiet reflection of the things that just played out. It was then that he noticed something in his shirt’s breast pocket. Curiously he dug into his pocket, only to find the Monet had slipped one of her business cards into his pocket when she touched him inside Daddy’s House. She was slicker than a pig in shit, he’d give her that. Shai smiled as he slid the card back into his pocket. When he turned back around to rejoin his crew, he saw Big Doc placing a rolled-out knot of bills into Swann’s outstretched hand.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Mall at Short Hills in Milburn, New Jersey was crowded as usual. People hustled about, window-shopping and darting in and out of the high-end stores it was famous for. It was one of the premiere shopping areas in the tri-state, and one of Honey’s favorite places to unwind. Because she was pregnant she couldn’t smoke weed, so she turned to retail therapy to relieve some of her stress.

  The last forty-eight hours had been rough on her. Though she was looking forward to her baby shower for months, she was relieved when it was over. She knew there would be a lot of people in attendance, but wasn’t prepared for the small parade running through her backyard. Sitting out in that hot ass sun playing hostess was taxing. It would have probably gone smoother had Shai not run off and left her to handle it on her own. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately; leaving her to handle things by herself. It was one of the downsides of Shai’s new position.

  Most of Honey’s friends envied her for having landed Shai. He was young, handsome and caked up. She would listen to them go on and on about how great it would be to have what they had, but that’s because they were on the outside looking in. They didn’t know about the lonely nights sitting by the phone, hoping that she didn’t get the call that her man was locked up or dead. For the most part, Shai kept himself insulated from the street aspect of the business, delegating responsibilities through Swann, but he still had one foot in the life he promised to put behind him. There was a time when all he could talk about was legitimizing the family, and though it was still the goal, the sense of urgency wasn’t there anymore. When she’d asked him about it, all he would say was, “As soon as we get to where we need to be.” It sounded and smelled like bullshit to her. Shai kept Honey on a need-to-know basis as far as his business went, but she knew what they brought in from their legitimate holdings allowed them to live beyond comfortably, so she couldn’t understand his reluctance to let go of the streets. Was it the money that kept him bound to the old ways, or the God-like power that came with being the boss?

  “Girl, are you even listening to me?” Paula snapped Honey out of her daze.

  “Huh?” She turned to her friend as if she was just noticing her.

  “I said I wanna run up in Bebe. They’re having a sale,” Paula repeated.

  “Sure,” Honey said in a disinterested tone. “Where is your head at today?” Paula asked, noticing the troubled look on her face.

  “I’m sorry girl, I just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Apparently so. We’ve been in this bitch for two hours and you’ve only hit one store,” Paula said, nodding at the single plastic shopping bag in her hand. “The Honey I know could burn a mall down twice in that amount of time.”

  “Must be this pregnancy weight slowing me down,” Honey half joked.

  Paula looked into her friend’s eyes. “You’re definitely carrying around some extra weight, but it don’t have nothing to do with being pregnant. You stressing that bullshit Shai pulled yesterday? Girl, I don’t blame you. Had my man run out on me in the middle of our baby shower, I’d be pissed too.”

  “He didn’t run out on me. He was called away on business,” Honey corrected her.

  “The way he dashed out of there, it must’ve been pretty damn important. What was that all about anyhow?” Paula asked.

  “Nothing,” Honey brushed her off. Paula was her bestie, and she confided a great deal in her, but never family business. She and Honey had history, but Paula was still technically an outsider in their world. “Damn, I’m hungry,” she said as her stomach grumbled.

  “Didn’t you just eat when we first got here?” Paula reminded her.

  “You keep forgetting that I’m eating for two. Let’s run over to Legal Seafood. I could go for some shrimps,” Honey suggested.

  Paula sucked her teeth. “You know there’s gonna be a wait. By the time you get done stuffing your face, all the good sale shit will have been picked over. Why don’t we send Brutus to grab you some cookies or something to hold you over?” she suggested.

  Honey looked over her shoulder at the bodyguard who was shadowing them through the mall. “No, I don’t wanna bother him sending him on no errands.”

  “Shai pays him to make sure you’re good at all times, and getting some food into your greedy ass will do just that. Brutus, can you come here for a second?” Paula called to him before Honey could stop her.

  “You ladies okay?” Brutus approached. He ha
d shed his normal black suit and was wearing a button-up shirt and cotton slacks over leather shoes.

  “Honey is hungry. Be a dear and make a Starbucks run for us, please?” Paula batted her eyes.

  Brutus looked hesitant.

  “Brutus, we’re in a crowded ass mall. I don’t think you have to worry about anybody trying to kill us in the ten minutes it’ll take you to get us some snacks,” Paula said.

  Brutus looked at Honey, who nodded that it was okay. “Aight, but wait right here for me until I get back. Don’t move!” he insisted before walking off.

  “Damn, that nigga be sounding more like your man than your bodyguard. What’s really good with that?” Paula asked suspiciously.

  “Ain’t nothing up with it. Why are you always trying to make something out of nothing?” Honey downplayed it.

  “Bitch, how long have we known each other? I know when you’re trying to hide something, which is what you’re doing now.”

  “You tripping, Paula.”

  “No, I’m reading the signs,” Paula shot back. “All I know is that ever since that night, things have been different between the two of you.”

  “What night?” Honey faked ignorance.

  “Bitch, don’t play with me. You know just what night I’m talking about.”

  Indeed, Honey did. It was about a year ago. She and Shai had gotten into a big argument over her finding out about some skank broad he had been creeping with. She knew Shai dabbled in hoe-soup from time to time, but for the most part, his bitches always knew their places. This one was different, though. She was going around town telling anyone who would listen about her plans to unseat Honey from the throne, and it had gotten back to her through the grapevine. When she confronted Shai about it, of course he tried lying, but the Honey knew too much to be making it up. They had said some hurtful things to each other, which lead to Honey storming out. She had let Paula convince her to go out to the club to blow off some steam that night, and they both ended up getting so drunk that neither of them were in any condition to drive home. There was no way she was going to ask Shai to come get them, so they ended up calling Brutus.