There was a brute of a man standing at attention with his eyes sweeping the crowd. The chances of him being armed inside the club was unlikely, but the man looked like he could do some damage with his bare hands. Duce gave him the once over, but his eyes were focused on the man directly behind him. Though Duce had never met the man face to face, he knew the lanky cat dressed in all black had to be Cowboy. He was lounging on the cushioned seat with a pretty redbone on his lap. From his arrogant demeanor and the way he was barking directions at the waitresses you’d have thought he owned the place. He took a minute to stop groping the girl to cast a cold stare up at Duce.
Cos leaned over and spoke to Cowboy. “This is the young boy Duce I was telling you about.”
Cowboy eased the young lady off his lap and leaned forward. “So this is the scourge of the New York state prison system? Funny, I expected you to be bigger from all the shit Cos has told me about you.”
“I could say the same,” Duce returned his glare.
“This is my nigga Thor,” Cos said, trying to ease some of the tension. Thor nodded but didn’t extend his hand, nor did Duce. “What you drinking on Duce?”
“Vodka and cranberry,” Duce said, still eyeballing Cowboy. He knew that Cowboy was testing him and was determined to show the man that he wasn’t a punk.
“Come on and cop a squat,” Cowboy patted the seat next to him. Duce slid onto the seat, but kept a comfortable distance between himself and Cowboy. “I hear you’re looking to come up?”
Duce shrugged. “You know how it is; I’m fresh off a bid and trying to get my ones up.”
“I don’t know about no ones, but I know that fucking with me you can stack some fifties and hundreds.”
“Even better,” Duce gave a half smile. “You know, even before I met Cos your name was ringing off in the joint. Everybody from Fishkill to Downstate is talking about the Bandit King,” Duce stroked his ego.
“Is that what they’re calling me?” Cowboy smiled. “I like that shit. So what else are they saying about me?”
Duce chose his next words carefully. “They say that you’re the best friend a guy could have and the worst enemy.”
“You better fucking believe it! Me and mine is straight bout that, feel me?”
“No doubt,” Duce nodded. “So, my nigga Cos tells me that now that I’m a part of the team I can make some serious paper.”
“You ain’t part of shit yet, homey. You still gotta prove yourself,” Cowboy told him.
“I guess this is the part where you tell me that I gotta kill one of your enemies or go toe to toe with the big man?” Duce said sarcastically.
Cowboy laughed. “Nah, Thor would murder you in a fight and ain’t nobody stupid enough to be my enemy. What I got in mind is something way simpler, but just as dangerous, if you’re up to it?”
“Like I told you, I need to get my ones up. I’m down for whatever,” Duce said seriously.
“Glad to hear it. Check it, we got this score coming up and this is when you’re gonna cut your teeth.” Cowboy went on to explain the dynamics of the upcoming robbery while Duce listened intently. Cowboy was a master schemer and every bit of an arrogant Harlem hustler. Had the circumstances been different they might’ve been able to do business together, but this wasn’t the case. Cowboy had violated and had to be served justice, just like the rest of them.
Two hours after arriving at the bar Duce and Cowboy were chopping it up like two old friends. He and Cos were visibly tipsy, from all the drinks they had been throwing back, but not Duce. He sipped with them to break the ice, but he was far from dunk. In his line of work, a split second of indecisiveness could mean the difference between life and death.
Cowboy chatted away while Duce pretended to listen to his ranting. Though he tried to relax, something didn’t feel right. His eyes scanned the bar for signs of trouble, but all he could see where the throngs of people on the dance floor, but that didn’t remove the eerie feeling in the pit of his gut. Focusing all his senses, he tried to drown out everything around him and zero in on what didn’t match in the picture. On his second sweep of the crowd, he spotted the oddities.
Posted against the wall where two Hispanic men. To the untrained eye they looked like two cats just enjoying the scene, but Duce had long ago learned to look beneath the surface of things. The first thing that struck him as odd was the fact that they were standing around in bubble coats in a room where the temperature was 90 something degrees. Even wearing just the thermal Duce was sweating, so he knew they had to be suffering under the goose feathers. Secondly, they weren’t drinking. They had drinks in their hands, but the ice had long ago melted out of them and the liquor had yet to be touched. All these things told Duce that something was definitely wrong with the picture, but what sealed the deal were the larcenous glares they were sending over to the corner.
Silently, Duce slid from the seat and headed towards where the bathrooms were located. As he crossed the crowded room, he could feel the eyes of the Hispanics on him, but he didn’t look in their direction. Instead of actually going into the bathroom, he pressed himself against the wall which divided the dance floor from the restrooms. He peered around the corner and to his surprise he didn’t see the men. A quick scan of the crowd revealed one of them moving in Cowboy’s direction, while the other slithered along the wall towards the bathroom.
Duce found himself with one hell of a dilemma. Whoever had set the Hispanic men on Cowboy had nothing to do with him, but Cowboy dying that night wasn’t a part of the plan. True, if they killed him it would save Duce the trouble but Cowboy’s life was already spoken for. For as much as he hated to do it, he had to take action. Before he had a chance to decide on what to do next, one of the Hispanics rounded the corner with a gun in his hand.
Moving more off instinct than anything else, Duce grabbed the man by his arm and yanked him behind the wall and through the kitchen doors. The kitchen staff screamed and did their best to get out of the way of the two combatants. The Hispanic tried to raise his gun, but Duce had his wrists firmly secured. Being that shooting wasn’t an option, he caught Duce with a short left. Duce staggered but kept his grip on the man’s wrist. The man tried to swing again, but Duce stepped inside the punch and head-butted him, breaking his nose. With an audible pop, Duce broke the man’s wrists sending the gun crashing to the floor. When the Hispanic man tried to lunge for it, Duce caught him in a reverse chokehold. He had only intended on putting the man to sleep, but before he even realized what he was going the man’s neck snapped and he went limp in Duce’s arms. Ignoring the dead body at his feet, Duce snatched the gun off the floor and headed back to the dance floor.
By the time Duce came around the corner, the other Hispanic man was easing from the crowd and over to Cowboy’s group. Thor had his back to the man, still chopping it up with the female, so he never saw the man draw a .45 from his coat. Cos screamed his friend’s name before diving out of the line of fire. Cowboy’s eyes got as wide as saucers at the sight of the gun, but he was frozen with fear. At the same moment the man made to the pull the trigger, Duce squeezed off.
The shot hit the man in the shoulder, sending goose feathers flying and knocking the man into the D.J. booth, bringing the music to a halt. Duce tried to finish him with the next shot, but ended up blowing the face off a man who was trying to run for cover. Before Duce had a chance to get another shot in, the club was lit up like Christmas. The remaining Hispanic tried to cut Duce down, but ended up shooting the wall as Duce was already on the move. There was too many people running back and forth for Duce to get a clear shot so he had to improvise. Dropping to one knee, he targeted the man’s legs. The shot took him off his feet and sat the man on his ass in the corner.
Moving through the crowd with the grace of a jungle cat, Duce eased up on the man who was trying to crawl for the exit. When he saw Duce, he tried to turn the gun on him, but Duce’s foot on his hand kept him from raising it.
“That life is spoken for,” Duce said,
before shooting the man in the face. There was a sudden movement behind Duce, but before he could turn around someone had grabbed him around the waist and lifted him off his feet. He was about to open fire, but stopped when he saw who it was.
“Easy, shotta, we gotta get outta here,” Thor said, setting him back on the ground.
Though the monster in Duce longed for more bloodshed, he wasn’t willing to run the risk of going back to prison. Wiping the gun thoroughly with his thermal, he tossed it to the ground and followed his team into the night.
TWELVE
“That was a close one,” Cos said, steering the truck onto the Westside Highway.
“Too close. That nigga almost got the drop on me,” Cowboy said, while trying to light a cigarette. His hands were shaking so bad that he had to hold the lighter with two hands.
“Good thing Duce was on point,” Cos said.
“At least somebody was on point. How the fuck did you let that nigga get up on us?” Cowboy turned to Thor.
“Dawg, I was trying to get laid like everybody else,” Thor said.
“Yeah, and you almost got me laid down in the process. If the young boy hadn’t let off, I’d be dead right now,” Cowboy shot back. He turned to Duce and extended his hand. “Good looking out.”
“It wasn’t about nothing, man,” Duce gave him dap. “If we crew, we gotta look out for each other, right?”
“You ain’t a part of this thing yet son,” Thor reminded him.
“Thor, stop hating and give the young boy his props. Don’t get mad because he did your job better than you,” Cos teased him.
“Fuck you, nigga. It’s real funny that he was able to spot them niggaz when the three of us missed them,” Thor grumbled.
“Go ahead with that shit, Thor,” Cos brushed him off.
“Real talk, Cos. I know this is ya man and all, but I don’t trust him. It didn’t seem a little strange that he showed up just in time to save Cowboy? For all you know, he could’ve been the one who sent them spic ass niggaz at us in the first place,” Thor accused.
Duce’s face became cold. “Man, fuck you! I just save your ass from getting smoked and you gonna come at me sideways? I should slap the shit outta you for even disrespecting me like that.”
“Fuck did you say to me, lil nigga,” Thor tried to climb over the seat to get to Duce, but Cowboy intervened.
“Cool it, Thor,” Cowboy ordered. He turned a suspicious glance at Duce. “Say, how did you know that it was about to go down?”
It felt like everyone in the truck was staring at Duce. If he answered wrong the SUV could very well become his final resting place. Placing his hands on his lap, he looked at the men and spun a brilliant lie. “I knew him from prison.”
“What?” all three of them asked in unison.
“Cos, you remember that time you knocked that Blood L.K. nigga out in the library?” Duce asked.
Cos nodded. “Yeah, the little Spanish kid with the scar on his face. I stomped his ass to within an inch of his life. They made me finish my bid in Downstate because of that fight.”
Duce grinned as the ends of the lie began to stitch themselves together. “L.K. was setting you up to get done for fucking with one of theirs. The kid I shot was the one they were gonna use. I was coming from the bathroom when I spotted him. I thought they were coming for you, because of the beef, I had no idea he was about to pop Cowboy.”
Cowboy studied Duce’s face for a long while. Duce initially thought he saw through the lie and was about to make his move, but he relaxed when Cowboy bust out laughing. “Cos,” he tapped his partner, “I owe you a bottle. If you hadn’t beat that L.K. nigga up, Duce wouldn’t have recognized the shooter and I’d be dead. That’s some real six degrees of separation shit right there.”
“I’m glad you think the fact that a nigga tried to body you is funny,” Thor snapped. “Instead of making jokes we need to find out who sent them niggaz and why? What’s your little crystal ball say about this one, Duce,” Thor mocked him.
“I got a ball for you, two of them actually,” Duce grabbed his crotch.
“Why don’t the both of you niggaz shut the fuck up!” Cos snapped, finally tired of Duce and Thor’s bickering. “Cowboy, this shit looks like a professional job gone wrong. I don’t know who you put on to that lil piece of business uptown, but it looks like the chickens are coming home to roost.”
“You think El…” Thor began, but Cowboy cut him off.
“Watch your mouth,” Cowboy said to Thor, but was cutting his eyes at Duce. Duce pretended not to catch their meaning, but he knew what time it was. The word was all over the streets that El Pogo got ripped off, and the pieces just fell into place as to who had pulled the caper. He tucked that little piece of information in the back of his mind to use at a later date.
Thor grumbled something no one quite understood and continued. “All I’m saying is that it’s very possible that they were his men, and if that’s the case we’ve got a hell of a problem on our hands.”
Cos nodded in agreement. “The big man has got a point. Homey’s got an army and long bread. If he decides to send the wolves at us then we need to think about what we’re gonna do.”
Cowboy was cool when he addressed his crew. “For now, we try to avoid him, but if he steps wrong then we blow him and his whole crew off the map.”
An eerie silence filled the truck as those who knew El Pogo weighed their chances of coming out on top after going to war with him. Finally, it was Duce who broke the silence. “Man, I don’t know who this nigga is,” he lied, “but if he gotta be got, so be it. I’m wit you, Cowboy.”
“Ain’t that touching,” Thor grumbled.
“Man, you gonna quit questioning my authenticity. When it’s time to bang, believe I’m gonna bang,” Duce assured him.
“Slow down, partner,” Cowboy told Duce. “I see you react quick in the face of bull shit and it’s an endearing quality, but never think that because we show you love that you have an opinion in this. You’ve yet to walk through the fire, my nigga.”
“Cowboy, I ain’t no bull shit ass nigga. When it’s work to be done, I gets it in. Ask around about me. I ain’t trying to step on nobody’s toes, but I want y’all to know that I’m with you. I was sitting niggaz down in the joint for free, so breaking a mutha fucka up for a few ones on the street is nothing, feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you, but I still don’t know you,” Cowboy said. “You an anxious young nigga and that can either make you rich or send the both of us to prison.”
“Dawg, I’m just trying to get about mine. I’m fresh out the can with no family and no ends. I’m just trying to get in where I fit in.”
Cowboy reclined. “We’ll see if you fit in when we hook up to handle that business. I run a tight ship Duce, and every one of us are each other’s crutch.” Cowboy pulled his gun from under the seat and placed it on his lap, with the barrel facing Duce. “After we snatch your virginity, you’re either gonna be a solid member of the family, or one of the whores we cast to the side. The ball is in your court, kid.”
The sounds of Alicia Keys’ Unbreakable floated softly from the wall mounted speakers. You could smell the faint traces of the Black Diamond incense burning in the corner, over an ash catcher, but it was outmatched by the sweet sting of Purple Haze. Mo was propped against the pillows at the head of Frankie’s king-sized bed, with a crown of smoke billowing around her head, while Frankie was propped on one elbow at the foot. Frankie could almost feel the strangulating smoke in her throat and for as bad as she wanted to reach for the blunt, she remembered her declaration from earlier.
“This bitch goes in,” Mo said, rocking from side to side, mouthing along with Alicia. “Ike and Tina, mutha fucka, Florida and James, that’s what the fuck love was about,” Mo hoisted her plastic cup, nearly spilling the Nut Cracker on Frankie’s bed spread, but like the seasoned drunk she was, not a drop made it over the lip of the cup.
“Bitch, your ass is drunk,” Frankie said, tak
ing petite sips through her straw. Unlike Mo, she wasn’t big on Nut Crackers, but the fruity drink was quick and to the point when you wanted to go there, and with all that Frankie was going through she definitely needed to be there.
“Oh, I’m nice as hell, but I’d need at least two more of these to classify me as drunk,” Mo informed her, finishing off what was left in her cup. “I’m just telling my truth, ma. You can’t front like Alicia don’t go there. Between her, Mary and Keyshia, them broads can tell you about the heartache and triumphs of love.”
“Heartache,” Frankie chuckled. “I could give all three of them a run for their money in that department.”
Mo rolled down to the foot of the bed and placed her head on Frankie’s lap. One look into Frankie’s sad eyes and Mo’s buzz began to fade. “What’s the matter, honey, Cowboy still acting like he doesn’t know he’s got a diamond?”
Frankie turned her head and blinked away the moisture trying to form in her eyes. “Please, that ignorant nigga ain’t never gonna get it right. Cowboy is gonna be who he is, and I ain’t really trying to lose no more sleep over that. Sometimes you gotta let a man be who he’s gonna be.”
Mo slit her eyes. “Frankie, is that man putting roots on you?”
“No, simple-minded ass, there’s nobody putting roots on me,” she was smiling, but her eyes were still sad. “I just understand that you can’t control a man’s actions. They’ve either gotta be true, or not, simple as that.”
Mo sat up and looked down at her friend. “Baby girl, that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told. Frankie, you’ve been my ace bitch for as long as I can remember, but ain’t none of this game rubbed off on you yet? This here,” she patted her crotch, “makes us Goddess amongst men, provided we know what to do with our gifts. Sweetie, God gave all of us pussies, but it’s only a select few that are blessed with that good Power-U.”
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