by K'wan
“But why would Gee-Gee…” Louie began, but stopped short when all the pieces fell into place. “This was never a favor for Gee-Gee, was it?”
Frankie didn’t have to answer. The triumphant smirk on his face said it all.
Two quick chirping sounds to his rear caused Louie to spin in his chair. He was just in time to see both Bruno and Mel fall to the ground with gaping holes in their heads. Standing over them was a tanned young man with slick black hair. In both his gloved hands he held two smoking Berettas. Without bothering to even look at the bodies, he hit them twice more before continuing towards the table they were sitting at. Louie’s brain told him to run, but the fear that gripped his heart wouldn’t let him. The young man loomed over him like a storm cloud, both guns pressed to the top of his head.
“Right on time as always, Enzo,” Frankie greeted the killer.
Louie swallowed. The only part of his body he dared move were his eyes. “Frankie, what the hell is this all about?”
Frankie took his time pulling photos from the envelope and placing them on the table in front of the shocked Louie. In the pictures was a wild-haired man coming out of the building where Nicky was killed. “Restoring the natural order of things.”
CHAPTER 22
When Shai woke up the next morning, he felt like he died twice. His head was spinning and damn near every muscle in his body ached. He figured that was the price he had to pay for spending his night boozing and brawling, and some other things he wasn’t quite sure where to classify just yet.
Instinctively, he reached over to the other side of the bed and found it was empty. He looked over at the clock and saw it was already passed noon. Honey was likely up and about her day already, which was fine by him. This would give him enough time to think up a good excuse as to why he hadn’t made it home until just before sun up. Shai was generally very honest with Honey about his comings and goings, but this was one of those situations where the truth just wouldn’t do… unless he wanted to get his head knocked off.
He wasn’t exactly sure why he had dialed Lady Monet’s number that night, or what he would say to her when she picked up. There was a part of him that hoped she wouldn’t, but she did. She didn’t seem surprised that Shai had called, or at least that’s how she came off. She told him that she and some friends were in the city getting drinks and invited him to come and join them. Still not ready to go home and having nothing better to do, Shai agreed. And this is when his night really got interesting.
When he’d arrived at the address Monet had given him, he’d expected it to be a bar or restaurant, but instead it was a strip club. It wasn’t hard to find her once he got inside. She was sitting at a table in the corner, tossing dollars at a big-booty dancer while the other girls from her group, Genie and Lisa, cheered her on. When she spotted Shai, she dismissed the fifty-inch ass that was in her face and waved him over.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Chicken Grease,” Monet greeted him. “Glad you could make it.”
“I ain’t staying long. Just figured I’d pop through to get a drink and see what’s up with you,” Shai said coolly.
“As you can see, everything is up on this side.”
Monet tossed some singles in the air and watched the strippers who had been circling her table scramble for them. From the glassy look in her eyes, Shai could tell she was tipsy. “Well don’t just stand there looking like a love-struck puppy! Sit your fine ass down,” she said, patting the seat next to her. “What you drinking? It’s on me tonight,” she told him once he was seated.
“Oh, you rolling like that, huh?” Shai asked.
“It ain’t on me, it’s on Big Dawg,” Monet replied as she flashed the company credit card.
“In that case, I’ll take a shot of Henny.”
“Yo ma,” Monet grabbed a passing waitress, “bring us a bottle of Henny, and some more ice. Don’t take all day this time!” she ordered as she slapped the waitress on the ass.
“You wild shorty,” Shai laughed at her antics.
“So says the man with blood on his shirt.” She poked him in the chest. “What’s that all about?”
“Nothing,” Shai said, noticing the blood for the first time. “My night just started out really rough.”
“Well, I hope you checked your troubles at the door. From here on out, nothing but good vibes,” Monet promised, and she was right.
Monet’s girls hung around until about 1A.M. before calling it a night, leaving Shai and Monet to continue the festivities. They smoked, drank and slapped asses all through the night. Monet was way more fun than he expected her to be, and after a while, he had forgotten about the fight with the dudes outside the bar and his argument with Honey, and was totally focused on her. The club shut down at about 3A.M., but neither of them wanted to go home, so they drove up the West Side Highway and parked in a little cove off of 96th street that gave them a view of the Hudson. Shai rolled up some more weed and the two of them sat and talked, getting to know each other better.
Monet’s story was just as interesting as her personality. She was the product of a black mother who worked as a maid, and her white employer, who was involved in all sorts of criminal activities. Eventually the man’s wife found out about her husband’s indiscretions and fired Monet’s mother. Her dad could never claim Monet openly due to the closed-minded circles he ran in and the scandal it would create for his family, but he remained in her life as best he could. He sent money every month faithfully, and even visited a few times per year. Things changed a few years ago when her father was killed in a car accident. With the checks no longer coming, things got tight for Monet and her mother so the young girl had to take it to the streets to help make ends meet. Monet dabbled in different hustles, but after getting arrested for possession, she decided the life wasn’t for her, so she turned to what she was passionate about - singing. Monet started doing shit gigs in bars, lounges and even street corners when she had to; anything to help keep food on the table. This was how she was discovered by Don B., and her life would be forever changed.
Shai was almost moved to tears by the end of Monet’s story. He knew better than most what it was like to carry that kind of weight on your shoulders at such a young age. That night he felt closer to Monet than he had any other woman, even Honey. He couldn’t say that he was in love with Lady Monet, but he felt her on a different level.
At some point, they must have fallen sleep in the car. Shai was awakened by a cop tapping on his window. He looked for Monet, but there was no sign of her. She had vanished, leaving him to wonder if it had been real or all a dream?
*
Shai pulled himself out of bed and stood. His legs were shaky and his stomach lurched, but he was functional, which was the best he could ask for. It took him roughly a half hour to shower and dress to tackle what was sure to be an incredibly long day. The prior night he had spent with Monet, watching her move, left him feeling inspired. Their talk had also put several things into perspective that he had been on the fence about. It was time for him to boss up, and put his house in order.
His first call was to Sol to have him set some things in motion that would grease the wheels of fate. Next he got their lawyer, Scotty, on the line. He was more skeptical of Shai’s plan than Sol had been, but reluctantly agreed to do as he was asked. Last but not least, he had Angelo go out and meet with Chance King. The message would be short, sweet and to the point.
The dominos had fallen, and now all that was left for Shai to do was sit back and watch how they fell.
On his way out of the bedroom, he snatched his pants off the floor and proceeded to empty his pockets. There wasn’t much in there except his wallet, some loose weed flakes and a wad of singles he had totally forgotten about. He shoved them in the pocket of the pants he was wearing, making a note to swap them out for some tens and twenties when he passed a store. Honey would take one look at the loose bills and know he’d been in the strip club. It wasn’t that she forbade Shai from going to strip cl
ubs, but she wasn’t exactly a big fan of the outings either, and he could always expect some type of grief on those rare occasions he did go. This was no doubt due to how they’d met.
When Honey and Shai first hooked up, she was still dancing among, among other things he cared not to speculate on. In the beginning, neither of them expected the relationship to get serious. They were just having fun with each other, but as Shai began to peel back the layers and see more than just a fine ass dancer, he fell hopelessly in love with the person he discovered underneath it all. He plucked her from her from the hustle and made a square of her, and Honey secretly feared that history would repeat itself. The girls he tossed money at and occasionally fucked were fun and nothing more, but from time to time he did have moments of weakness, such as what happened during his night with Monet. They hadn’t done anything more than talk, but he still felt guilty about it; probably because he wanted to do more. Had she not vanished, there was no telling how far he would have gone with the girl. He was weak for her, and that rattled him. This had him now more determined to take the meeting with Don B.; not because he wanted to finish what he started, but because he needed some type of closure.
According to Devil, Don B. was trying to add owning a franchise of nightclubs to his already-extensive resume. He had Code Red up and running, which was quickly becoming a hot spot for the younger hip-hop crowd. Don B., being a visionary, saw the potential profit in monopolizing on that success and wanted to spread his wings. Opening one club and getting it running smoothly was one thing, but creating a franchise was an animal Don B. wasn’t prepared to handle; at least not on his own. The outline of the plan was supposed to be enough to wet his beak, but if Shai wanted to hear the rest, it would have to be in person at the memorial celebration. By agreeing to attend, Shai could kill two birds with one stone; hearing Don B’s proposal and seeing Monet again. If for nothing else, he needed to see if the hold she had on him was real or a lapse in judgment.
Shai finally made his way downstairs, and found the house surprisingly still for that hour of the day. He rolled towards the kitchen, stomach growling and starving, and ready to grub. He was sure he had slept though breakfast, but by then Elsa should have been preparing lunch. He pushed through the double doors, expecting his nose to be greeted by the smell of whatever was on the lunch menu. To his surprise, there was nothing but the scent of Pine and dish soap. The kitchen was sparkling as if it had just been wiped down, and there were no signs of his staff or his family.
He walked through the first floor, peeking inside different rooms for signs of life, but found none. As he crossed the living room en route to his man cave, Shai picked up on the sounds of muffled whispers coming from behind the door. He immediately thought the worst. What if someone breached the estate’s defenses and the place was under siege?
He tapped on the edge of the fireplace, exposing a hidden panel on the side and the small gun hidden inside. Now armed, Shai stormed into his Man Cave. What he saw made his jaw drop; the mystery of the missing maid had been solved. Elsa was inside Shai’s private room, bent over his pool table with her uniform skirt hiked up. Behind her, pumping away like a dog in heat, was Swann.
“What the fuck?” Shai’s voice startled them.
Eisa’s head whipped around so fast it was a wonder it didn’t fall off her shoulders. “Mr. Clark!” she hurriedly pushed her skirt down. Her yellow face was now a deep shade of red from embarrassment.
“I pay you to wax my floors, not my homies!” Shai snarled.
“Mr. Clark, I…I…”
“Yo, don’t say shit. Just go get yourself together before Star sees you,” Shai dismissed her. He turned to Swann, who was sitting on the edge of the pool table, fixing his pants with an amused look on his face. “Please tell me what the fuck is funny about this?”
“I seen your face when you walked in. I wasn’t sure if you were gonna knock her head off, or join in,” Swann laughed. “But it ain’t her fault, Slim. I conned her into giving me a quickie. After all you went through last night, I figured it’d be at least another hour before you rose from the dead.”
“What do you mean by that?” Shai asked defensively, wondering if Swann knew about his secret rendezvous.
“The scuffle, remember? Man, I still think you should’ve let me blast on them niggas,” Swann told him.
“Nah, one murder is hard enough to clean up. Three would’ve been too much of a headache. Now getting back to the subject at hand, where’s your sense of respect? You know how crazy that shit would’ve made both of you look if Honey had caught you?”
“Relax, Slim; Honey been gone since this morning. Elsa told me before I deflowered her,” Swann told him.
“Where’d she go?”
“Does it look like I bothered to ask? Say, man, I hope you don’t plan on firing shorty. She got a way better shot of pussy than the girl you had decorate this place,” Swann boasted.
“Swann, how many of my employees have you fucked on my furniture?”
Swann held up his right hand as if he was being sworn in. “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it may incriminate me further.”
“Fucking dick!” Shai laughed.
“On another note, I got something that you might not find so funny. You read the paper today?” Swann grabbed the copy he’d brought in with him from the pool table and handed it to Shai.
Shai scanned the headline on the page Swann had folded over. “Mafioso Found Murdered…” Shai continued to read the article that detailed the execution-style killing of Nicholas “Nicky The Gent” Bucco, Capo in the Meloni crime family. “Damn, they strangled and shot him? That sounds more like a hate crime than an execution.”
“Tell me about it. I heard they had to identify him by his prints and dental records,” Swann recalled what his informant at the department told him.
“A tragedy to be sure, but why should I give a shit that some guinea got his wig split?” Shai tossed the newspaper back onto the pool table. “We didn’t clip him, nor are we involved with any business deals with the Melonis.”
“But we’re in bed with the Cissaros,” Swann pointed out. Seeing that Shai still wasn’t following his line of thinking, he elaborated. “Nicky was killed on Cissaro turf. There’s already been tensions brewing between their two families and having Big Joe’s son-in-law turn up dead in their backyard is likely gonna kick off a very nasty war. The blow-back is going to be serious, and it could hit us smack in the face because of our relationship with the Cissaros.”
Shai hadn’t thought about it like that. “Hit Angelo and Big Doc. Have them put the soldiers on yellow alert just to be on the safe side.”
“Two steps ahead of you. I did that as soon as I found out what happened. Everybody from the corner boys to the street bosses will be armed at all times. If them Jersey wops so much as take a piss in Harlem, we’re cutting their dicks off,” Swann assured him.
“That’s why you’re the eyes in back of my head,” Shai said as he patted Swann on the shoulder reassuringly. “Now let’s get our day started. It’s gonna be a long one,” he said, and headed out of the Man Cave.
“Shai,” Swann said as he fell in step behind him, “in light of this new development, maybe we should cancel that thing with Don B. later. Until we find out exactly where everyone stands with this Nicky murder, maybe having you in a club full of gangsters isn’t such a good idea.”
“That’s all the more reason for us to take this meeting with Don B.,” Shai said, much to Swann’s surprise. “Wars are time and money. If this thing goes down with the Melonis, the Cissaros are going to have their hands too full with survival to concentrate on our business interests. We need to start exploring alternative avenues of income to offset those losses.”
“And you think investing with Don B. is going to be the difference maker?” Swann asked suspiciously.
Shai shrugged. “Never hurts to hear him out.”
Swann still wasn’t convinced. “Shai, please tell me t
his ain’t about that broad.”
“C’mon, Swann, you know me better than that.” “I do, which is why I asked,” Swann shot back. “Did you check on that thing with our guy in N.C.?”
Shai changed the subject.
“Yeah, the truck left Charlotte this morning and should make it to Port Amboy sometime tonight where Big Doc and a few of the boys will liberate the driver of his goods. You know, I gotta admit that when you first came up with the idea of jacking cigarette trucks, I thought it would be a waste of time, but I was wrong. We’re making damn near as much money off tobacco as we do drugs.”
“Everybody smokes, baby boy,” Shai said with a wink.
“You be sure to tell Big Doc to check and double check the details. I got something else lined up and I can only make the play in cash,” Shai told him before heading out of the room.
“So what’s the plan for the day, boss?” Swann fell in step behind him. “I know you didn’t have me come out here two days in a row at the crack of dawn for nothing.”
“Of course not. We’ve got places to go and people to see. Today is the day we set the wheels in motion to usher this family into a new era,” Shai said proudly. He was about to elaborate further, when something in the window caught his attention. Shai moved closer and peered out. Hope was out on the front lawn, but she wasn’t alone. There was a young man snapping pictures, while she struck various poses. Upon closer inspection, Shai realized that he recognized the photographer.
“I swear if this girl ain’t got the hardest fucking head,” he huffed before storming out the front door.
*
When Hope saw Shai come out of the house, she cut her photo shoot short and moved to intercept him before he could reach her guest. “Shai…” she began, but she was cut off.
“Shai shit! Didn’t we go over this yesterday?” Shai looked passed her at Snake, who was standing there looking awkward.