by Eric Pete
“You stupid son of a bitch!” I cursed through my raised window. “You almost hit my fuckin’ car!”
I became curious when the limo didn’t move. I honked my horn a few times but there was no response from behind the cold blackness of the tinted windows. Now I was feeling uneasy. I had recently rented the Training Day DVD and thought about Denzel’s final moments as I began looking toward my passenger door as a possible means of escape.
A door on the limo opened without drama, but nobody got out. The only thing visible was the glow of the light from inside and a trail of escaping smoke that rose up into the night sky. I wasn’t about to be punked so I got out and walked over to the open door. I could make out three people inside.
“Don’t be scared. Come in,” the voice said in a poised, coaxing manner. It reminded me of a car dealer . . . or one of the old attorneys downtown who would promise my mother to get my charges reduced for a fee. I waited for a pause in the escaping smoke before looking inside.
“Lance, come in and have a seat, son,” Jason North urged me on from his leather throne in the back of the limo. To his right sat his number one goon, Melvin. Melvin’s only acknowledgment of me was one of his cold stares that seemed to pierce my soul. For some silly reason, I wondered if, with his gaze, he somehow knew about my cheating on my eighth-grade math test. Pouring himself a drink from the bar was another gentleman—heavyset with large cheekbones and sunken eyes. He seemed more interested in filling his glass than any other issues at hand.
“If you’re looking for AK, I don’t know where he is.”
“Oh, I know exactly where he’s at,” he said with a dirty laugh. Melvin and the other goon joined in. I gathered they knew about Kyne, but their laughter seemed to carry a hidden meaning as well. “I’m here to talk to you, brother.”
With a little more coaxing, I was persuaded to get into the limo. Jason had the guy he referred to as “Skinny” offer to fix me a drink, which I declined. I just wanted to know what was up and then get out. Melvin continued his emotionless trance as Jason motioned for the driver to raise the privacy glass.
“Have you noticed anything strange with your friend lately?” he asked.
“No,” I answered in a bland tone. I hadn’t been around Akhet in a while, not that it was any of his business.
Jason continued as if my answer was unimportant. He had rehearsed this and was going to stick to his script. “Recently your friend has begun acting difficult and I’m wondering what has gotten into him. I abhor difficulties with people on my label. We’re all like family at On-Phire Records. Kind of like you and AK are. I want to work things out.”
“I can’t help you. Matter of fact, I don’t know why you’re coming to me with this shit.” Jason’s sliminess irked the fuck out of me and I had abandoned the pretense that it didn’t.
For a second, Jason toyed with his goatee. “Oh? I think you do know why I’m coming to you, Lance,” he said as his smile vanished. Skinny had put his drink down and Melvin had moved to reposition himself. I steeled myself for a potential beat-down.
“I can’t help you . . . brother,” I said, throwing his false term of endearment and camaraderie back in his face. “And don’t come around trying to mix me up in your shit.”
Jason lost all cool and his charm vanished as if at a loss for words. His eyes flitted from mine to Melvin’s then back again.
“I’m out,” I mumbled as I reached for the door to get out while the getting was good.
“W-wait! We still need to talk, Lance. You can’t just—”
“Shut up, Jason,” came from an unexpected source.
“But he—”
“Shut . . . up.”
Both Jason and myself looked to the source of the deep, monotone voice. Melvin had chosen to get involved. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but his voice commanded all in the limo. Skinny was now twitching nervously and put his drink glass to his lips.
“Melvin . . . I’m just trying to get Lance to understand,” Jason pleaded, almost childlike.
“And all you’re doin’ is fucking up. He ain’t listenin’ to ya. Is ya, Lance?”
I sneered and gave a look that showed my contempt for Jason. Melvin in an uncharacteristic move cracked a smile.
“Jason, why don’t you and Skinny get some fresh air? Me and Lance needs to have a talk.”
“Nah. We don’t need shit,” I said, cutting Melvin off.
Melvin laughed again. “Relax, boy. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He said it so matter-of-factly . . . as if I posed no threat to him whatsoever. “Jason . . .”
“I can handle this, Melvin,” Jason said, cutting Melvin off as he grew himself a pair and attempted to regain some of his power that was stolen in a single breath.
“I said get the fuck out. Now.”
“What am I going to do out there?” he pleaded as he tried to bargain with Melvin. Skinny knew better and was already crawling over Jason to exit the vehicle.
“I dunno. Watch the boy’s car. Hell, go inside the place and look for some more fuckin’ talent for us. Nobody’s gonna hurt yo scaredy-ass. Skinny with you.”
Jason relented and tried to regain his composure before stepping out behind Skinny. I watched him look around to see if anyone was looking before he put on his act and adjusted his jacket.
“Jason?”
“Yeah?” he said as he looked back inside the limo. From the way his eyes lit up, he must have thought Melvin had changed his mind about making him wait outside.
“Close the motherfuckin’ door.”
After the two of us were left alone in back, Melvin instructed the driver to circle the block a few times. I had a view of Jason and Skinny in the rear window as we left them in the distance and turned the corner. I silently hoped that the two “Hot Boys” inside The Hole would decide to run up on them the way they had with me.
Melvin and I came eye to eye.
“You,” I said as the light of realization shone down upon me. “You’re On-Phire Records.”
“You the smart one, ain’t ya?”
“I catch on fast.”
“I know. I got most these fools thinkin’ I’m Jason’s bodyguard, but it’s my money behind all this. Jason’s the smooth one and knows how to get the legit stuff done. He handles the camera time for me while I chill up in the cut. I don’t have the temperament for that kind of shit.”
“Or the clean record.” Ignore the man behind the curtain, I thought back in a crazy, random reference to The Wizard of Oz.
“You right, boy. You do catch on fast,” he said as he smiled again. “Jason was supposed to handle this with ya, but you wouldn’t have listened. He couldn’t get the job done. You ain’t scared of him.”
“And I’m not scared of you either,” I proclaimed as I scooted up in my seat, taking offense.
“Yes, you are,” he said in that manner again. “But you got balls though. And heart. I like heart.”
“Cut the bullshit. Why are you telling me this?”
“Yo boy Akhet. He gonna get himself in a world o’ trouble.”
“Fuck him. Akhet makes his own decisions. I can’t do anything about that.”
“You don’t mean that. You still upset about him puttin’ the pipe to that fine half-Latin sistah that you got a piece of. Remember the day you found out? When you were pokin’ around and stirred up all this shit about AK’s contract ’n stuff. That was some funny shit, yo.”
My eyes grew as big as saucers. Melvin seemed to take pride in that. “You have his place bugged.”
He continued without acknowledging my statement. “We knew about AK’s little secret way before he opened up to Jason at House o’ Blues. Y’see, when the boogieman’s spookin’ him and he’s havin’ those bad dreams, yo boy talks in his sleep. Matter of fact . . . we know what AK’s doin’ right at this moment,” he said as he reached in his pocket and pulled a small radio receiver out. “Or should I say who he’s doin’? That bitch is hot. Would you like to hear?” he asked with a perv
erted smile meant to disturb me.
I stared at him with hate-filled eyes. Not a word was said.
Putting the tiny receiver away, he said, “No. I guess you wouldn’t wanna hear yo boy tearin’ that ass up.
“What do you want from me?”
“What you think? AK’s all worked up and askin’ out of his deal. And that ain’t gonna happen. That bitch Kyne has him talkin’ shit to Jason and on the street. That ain’t good for business, ya dig?”
“What do you want from me?” I asked again solemnly.
“I just want you to know the score. You don’t want anything to happen to your friend, right?”
“You’re crazy.”
“Then you know I do what I say. Ask people on the street about me. Akhet knows all about me from the old days. That pussy has him on dangerous ground. I want you to make sure he makes smart decisions. Akhet can deal with Jason, but if I have to get more involved . . .”
“Stop the car,” I yelled to the driver.
“We’re not back at your car yet.”
“I’ll walk,” I said as the limo came to a halt.
“Hey,” Melvin said as I exited in front of the Chevron on Elysian Fields Avenue. “What I told you stays between us. Kinda like Akhet’s little secret he doesn’t want to get out, ya dig?”
“Yeah. I dig,” I said as I gritted my teeth.
“Good, good. Keep your mouth shut and your head up . . . and your friend outta trouble.”
Melvin slammed the door shut and the limo sped off.
By the time I walked the three blocks to my car, Jason and Skinny were gone as the limo had picked them up and spirited them away with Melvin. Something was stuck under my windshield wiper blade.
I pulled the item loose and carefully looked it over. It was an On-Phire Records promotional CD for AK’s next single, “Not Ready to Die.” What kind of hell was I in the middle of?
28
I didn’t know how to best deal with what had been revealed to me, so I waited until Saturday to try to call Akhet. He hung up on me. Twice. After that, all I got was his voice mail. I really didn’t know what I was going to say, but was going to make the attempt to persuade him against butting heads and openly warring with Jason North. He being as bull-headed as he was, it wouldn’t have stopped him though. I thought about calling Kyne to get her to ease up, but she would’ve wanted explanations. That was if she felt like ever talking to me again after my jealous fit.
On instinct, I picked up the phone and called Mr. Bourgeois, who had helped me uncover things in the first place, but I quickly hung up. Akhet’s place was bugged and I couldn’t remember if I had let Mr. Bourgeois’ name slip out while over there. Melvin knew just how to make a fella feel paranoid. I was now wondering what else was bugged.
I hadn’t used my gym membership in months, but a heavy workout at the Manhattan Athletic Club was just the outlet I needed for my stress. Whereas I usually stayed for one hour, I stayed several, pretty much because I had nowhere else to go. After going home and cleaning up, I realized the day was still far from over. Keep yourself busy, I said to myself as I went to the bookstore and browsed around for new African American authors. Keep yourself busy, I said to myself as I took in a matinee movie at the Palace.
At the end of the day, I had managed to distract myself and was finishing things off by making it a “Blockbuster Night” with beer and a cheap pizza from Domino’s. I found this independent film, set in Dallas, called Playin’ for the Kitty and decided to see what it was about. Of course, I also rented the movie classic Friday.
I had seen Chris Tucker act the fool more times than I can remember, but that didn’t stop me from cracking up at his antics . . . or from dropping my slice of pizza on the carpet.
“There goes the rest of my security deposit,” I said aloud as I looked down at the reddish stain left by the pizza sauce. Looking at the collection of empty beer bottles on my coffee table, I decided that was it for the rest of the night.
As Smokey was tripping off his angel dust–laced marijuana on the television screen, I went to the kitchen to grab some napkins for the carpet spill and to throw away as many beer bottles as I could carry. Over the clank of bottles in the garbage can, I heard a knocking at the front door.
A quick look out the blinds didn’t reveal any familiar cars on the curb out front. Didn’t matter though. Somebody could’ve parked on the parking lot out of view. Maybe Akhet had decided to drop by after my calls, I thought. Another more wishful thought of Valerie sprung into my head. I don’t know if it was the beer buzz, but it was a thought I held on to as I walked out to the security door.
“Hey, sweetie! You in for the night?” Renika asked as she invited herself in.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling dejected that my wish for Valerie didn’t come true. “What do you want?”
“Gee. I’ve seen that look on your face before. If you keep looking all gloomy and sour, I may stop coming by, neighbor. So, how do I look?”
To tell you the truth, I hadn’t noticed a thing about Renika’s appearance until then. Bathed in the light from my living room, her red dress reminded me of the cover to Zane’s book The Heatseekers I had thumbed through earlier in the day. “You look fine.”
“Thanks. You do a lot for a woman’s confidence,” she said sarcastically.
“No. I meant you look fine,” I said with a smile as I admired the way the fabric of her dress chose to rest on her body. It was as if it had been dropped onto her and it all just fell into place.
“Well . . . that’s a little better,” Renika responded with a wink.
“Where are you going tonight dressed like that?”
“My sorority’s having a social,” she said as she surveyed the beer bottles and the remainder of my pizza. “Want to be my date for the night?”
“I’ll pass. I don’t think Vaughn would take kindly to that.”
“Who said anything about him knowin’?” she replied smartly. Her comment got a raised eyebrow out of me. “I’m just playing anyway. I came by to see if you have a mirror.”
“You don’t have a mirror?”
“I meant a full-length one, dummy. I broke mine during the move. I want to be certain the dress is the right fit.”
“Oh, I can tell you that it is.”
“You’re in a rare mood tonight. You talk to your girl lately?”
“No. You?”
“Yeah. We spoke earlier today. She shut me down when I brought you up. What happened? I thought y’all were okay.”
“The same thing that always happens . . . something,” I said with a sigh. “I fucked up. It’s over this time. All over.”
“Awww. C’mere,” she said as she embraced me and held her body next to mine. Normally, I would have resisted, but with everything I was dealing with I was in need of a hug. I brought my arms around her and pulled her in tightly. “No matter what, you’ve got me for a friend.”
“Thanks, boo. Same here. C’mon. Let me show you to the mirror.”
Embarrassed, I navigated Renika over a pile of dirty clothes at the foot of my bed and to the window alcove where my mirror hung. I turned on the lamp beside my bed to give her more light. I took a seat, trying to remain indifferent as she began turning and sashaying around at the sight of herself. I looked around at stuff in my room such as the dresser and my exercise equipment, but found my eyes going back to her. I had forgotten how delightfully contagious she was all those years ago. How could I have forgotten, I wondered as I suddenly felt a sense of awkwardness mixed with sadness.
“So. Where is Vaughn anyway?” I asked as I dragged myself back to reality. I chose to discard the awkwardness and the feelings that came with it and tackle the sadness head-on.
“He’s away. He’s training at some academy in Georgia,” she answered, turning away from the mirror. A different kind of smile graced her face. It was as if shackles had been unlocked for the first time in a long while, leaving her free to be Renika.
“I know you don
’t want to hear it again, but . . .”
“What? That’s he’s bad for me?”
“Yes. I know you can do so much better,” I said, gazing into her eyes and hoping to make that connection. “He’s dangerous. I don’t want to see you end up in a grave.”
Renika walked away from the mirror and toward me. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“I mean it. I—”
She placed a single slender finger up to my lips to shush me.
“You keep worrying about Vaughn and me so much,” she said as she stepped between my legs and pressed the front of her curvaceous body up against me. “Maybe there is someone better for me than Vaughn. And maybe you need something different than Val.”
“I can’t help you like that,” I said as another part of me began rising to the occasion.
“Why not? You’ve been trying and trying to work it out with Val for so long and it just doesn’t work. Maybe it’s a sign. What we had back then was different, but it was . . . nice.”
“We’re different people than we were then,” I said, trying to sound rational as I looked away from the body wrapped in crimson. She grabbed my hands and placed them on her sides. I then felt tender kisses raining down upon my scalp. Electricity shot through me causing goose bumps to spring up all over.
“Could you help me with my zipper?” she asked in a low sensual manner. “I think this is the right dress.”
I reached in back as she pushed herself more firmly against my face. It took all I had not to begin sucking through her dress at her full breasts that lay beneath. Once I pulled her zipper up, she would be out of here and on her way to her social, I thought. My hand found it and gave a tug upward only to find Renika’s dress already zipped. “Uh . . . your dress is already zipped.”
“I never said it wasn’t. I just asked you to help me with it.”
I was losing it and had begun kissing the neck of Renika who was now straddling me on the bed. Her dress slid up her thighs. Through my warm-ups, I felt the heat that dwelled between her legs. I knew that heat and how good it felt being up in it because it was once mine. It was taking all my control not to slide her dress up over her head, rip off whatever she had underneath, and ravage her. With a quick glance at my clock and in a moment of clear thought, I asked, “What time is your social?”