R.I.C.O.

by C. J. Hudson

  “Jazmine, have you been able to get in touch with your father?”

  Jazmine shook her head slowly. “Not yet. I’ve called him five times, and it’s gone to voicemail every time.”

  Sunny cursed and headed to the kitchen. She quickly made herself a drink and took a large gulp. Although she was a proud person, Sunny knew that to save her father’s life, she would need a little help. After looking at the address that she’d been given, she called Duck and Lard and informed them of the situation. At first, they were upset because she hadn’t told them earlier, but that emotion would have to take a backseat to what was going on. By sheer dumb luck and coincidence, Duck was very familiar with the address Sunny was being called to. It was an abandoned building that sat on the corner of Eighty-Sixth and Wade Park. Long before hooking up with Darnell, he used to hustle out of it every night, so he knew the ins and outs of the place. Sunny, Duck, and Lard devised a plan that would even the odds. After that, she went back into the living room to gather her troops. Her face was hard and determined as she looked at them. She took turns glaring at each one of them, commanding their attention.

  “All right, you all know the situation here, and you all know how dangerous this is, so I won’t blame you if you wanted to stay out of this. But if you’re gonna ride and be down with me, then fucking be down with me.”

  “Sunny, I can’t speak for these other two bitches, but you can always count on me,” Jazmine stated.

  “I’m a fucking soldier, boss lady. I’ll be there ’til the casket drops,” Butter proclaimed.

  All eyes then turned to Dani.

  “Well, Dani? You in or out?” Sunny asked.

  Dani’s mind flashed back to how Damon had been treating her over the last few weeks, so with a crooked grin, she slowly nodded her head.

  “I’m in. Fuck Damon’s bitch ass! It’s time he gets what he deserves.”

  “Good. J, do you know where your father keeps his guns?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “Cool. Get a few of them. And hurry. We only have forty-five minutes left to get there and save my dad.”

  It took Jazmine less than a minute to come back with three handguns and an Uzi. As the four young ladies walked toward the door, Sunny took out her cell phone and quickly sent a critical text. The unique vibration sequence alerted the recipient that it was Sunny sending the text. The four young ladies then made their way to the garage.

  “Let’s put the guns in the trunk for now,” Sunny ordered. “That way, if we get stopped, we don’t have to worry about being caught dirty.”

  Sunny popped the lock on the trunk and opened it. Butter was about to toss her gun inside when Jazmine subtly grabbed her hand. When Butter looked at her, Jazmine slowly shook her head. As soon as Dani put the gun she was given in the trunk, Sunny blew off the back of her head. Blood and brain fragments coated the inside of the trunk. As Dani’s body fell into it, a wide-eyed Butter looked from Sunny to Jazmine.

  “Trifling-ass bitch,” Jazmine spat.

  “Okay, should I be worried?” a shocked and confused Butter asked.

  “Not unless you’re playing both sides of the fence too,” Sunny said. “This scandalous bitch knew all along what was going on. Remember what she said back at the house? About how it was time that Damon got what he deserved? Well, how in the hell did she know that it was Damon who’d sent me that message? I never mentioned who texted me that message. The only way this slimy ho could have known was if she was in on it in the first place.”

  “Then you made the right call by killing that bitch. As a matter of fact,” Butter said, before aiming her gun at Dani’s corpse.

  “Don’t,” Sunny said, stopping her. “Before the night is over, you may need those bullets. Let’s roll.”

  With disgust, Sunny slammed the trunk shut. She had no way of knowing that Dani had planned to double-cross Damon and shoot him as soon as she got the chance. Now, she never would.

  * * *

  Slab and Paul stood behind the Glendale Building, sharing a blunt and sipping on cups of liquor. Neither of them was particularly thrilled with their assignments, but Slab seemed to be extra pissed.

  “Man, this is some bullshit! How in the fuck is Damon gonna have us doing this sucka shit, while his uncle and Moon do the glamourous shit?” Slab asked.

  “Man, look, I know how you feel, but look at it this way. We’re making easy fucking money just for keeping our eyes open,” Paul reasoned.

  Slab’s eyebrows shot up. “So, you content with just being a lookout boy now?” he asked his partner.

  “Lookout boy? Man, what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Nigga, what the fuck you mean, what am I talking about?” Slab replied, answering Paul’s question with one of his own. “We ain’t nothing but well-paid lookout boys today. You cool with that shit?”

  “Yo, man, I ain’t saying all that, but shit, man, we’re basically making bread without doing shit.”

  Slab smirked and shook his head as he snatched the blunt out of Paul’s hand. “Nigga, yo’ ass is blind as fuck.” Slab took a quick hit from the blunt and a small sip from his cup before holding up his finger, indicating that he was about to try to make a point. “All right, what about this bullshit then? When Darnell had that meeting, where the fuck was we? Exactly,” Slab yelled before Paul even had a chance to answer. “We were circling the hood, keeping an eye on the soldiers pitching on the block.”

  “So?”

  “So? Nigga, is you high? Why the fuck should we have to do that shit when we’ve been down with Damon longer than Moon?”

  “Slab, you need to calm the fuck down. Maybe Damon didn’t trust Moon enough to keep an eye on things while he was busy. Did you ever think of it that way?”

  “Hell nah, and you shouldn’t either. I’m telling you, man, that nigga Moon is up to some bullshit. I don’t trust that nigga.”

  “Man, why you got such a hard-on for . . . You know what? Never mind,” Paul said, smiling.

  “The fuck so funny?” Slab asked.

  As soon as the question left his mouth, he wished like hell he could take it back. He’d opened the door to a running joke between the two of them, and Paul was about to walk right through it.

  “I forgot. That nigga did put the paws on you back in the day,” Paul reminded him. The smile he had a few seconds ago had been replaced by a chuckle.

  “Man, fuck you,” Slab spat. He’d never gotten over Moon’s beat-down and got pissed whenever Paul teased him about it.

  “Nigga, don’t get mad at me because that nigga beat the brakes off yo’ ass.”

  “Whatever, nigga. I just pray that nigga is ready when I decide to execute some payback on his ass.”

  “What? Man, you can’t be serious. That shit was years ago.”

  “It don’t matter. I owe that muthafucka, and I aim to collect. And the way Damon is shitting on us, I got a good mind to call Duck or Lard and tell them what the fuck he’s doing.”

  “Dude, you need some fucking counseling. I’m going to take a piss.”

  Paul walked around the corner of the building, shaking his head. When he got around the corner, he smiled deviously. He had been waiting for a chance to get even with Slab ever since he walked in on him fucking the mother of his child. Even though he’d told Slab during a drunken rant that he didn’t care if he fucked her or not, he did. Paul didn’t understand that instead of pretending that he didn’t care about her by looking hard in front Slab and his boys, he should have treated her like a queen instead of a pauper. To this day, Slab had no idea that Paul had witnessed them screwing, but his mouth had just given Paul the ammunition that he needed to get even. Paul took out his cell phone and pressed stop on the recording function. He’d recorded every word that Slab had said. When Damon heard the recording, all Paul had to do was sit back and wait for his revenge to be complete. Unfortunately, he would never get to expose his partner.

  The two goons were so invested in their petty argument that th
ey never noticed that a black SUV had pulled into a driveway across the street.

  Lard grinned wickedly as he screwed the custom-made silencer onto the end of a high-powered rifle. After that, he aimed at Slab, who was leaned back against the wall rolling another blunt. Moving the rifle to the left, he let the crosshairs come to rest in the middle of Paul’s forehead. The only decision to make was who to kill first. Lard rolled down the window and pointed the rifle out of it. His lips curled into a sick smile as he closed his right eye and peered through the scope with his left. Then, just as Slab was inhaling the blunt he had rolled up, Lard pulled the trigger. The bullet split the blunt in half just before entering Slab’s mouth, exiting out the back of his skull and becoming embedded in the brick wall. Slab slowly slumped to the pavement. He never had a chance.

  Meanwhile, Paul was just finishing up polluting the ground with his urine. He stuffed his dick back in his pants and made his way back around the building. He stepped around the corner of the building, and his jaw dropped. There was his longtime partner lying on the ground in a puddle of his blood. Paul quickly looked around and scanned the area. He was at a supreme disadvantage. Not only did he not know where the shot had come from, but he also had no idea who had fired it. But one thing was for sure. Paul had no intention of sticking around and being the second victim. He was just about to take off running when his right knee exploded in pain.

  “Ah, shit,” he screamed as he fell to the ground. Ignoring the pain as much as he could, Paul pulled himself up and began hopping on one leg. He knew that his chances of getting away were slim, but he also knew that his chances of surviving were zero if he stayed there. He had just reached for the vehicle’s door when another bullet ripped through the back of his neck. And just like that, the Grim Reaper had claimed another victim. Lard then pulled out his cell phone and called Sunny.

  “Yeah, that situation is taken care of. What do you want me to do now?”

  “Nothing. Things just got a whole lot better for us,” she said, just before hanging up.

  Chapter 32

  Damon, Moon, and Eric pulled into the parking lot in front of the building. Pulling up beside them in the white van were Justin and Kenne. Although the building was abandoned, Damon had scouted the place and found an unusual feature about it. It had an underground basement, and if everything went according to his plan, it would not only be the final resting place for Darnell but also for his daughter and anyone else who stood in the way of his ultimate goal of being Cleveland’s next kingpin. To be on the safe side, Eric suggested that he and Moon, along with Justin and Kenne, do a perimeter sweep. Damon thought about it but decided that time was of the essence, so he concluded that it wasn’t necessary. The three of them got out of the car and walked toward the van. When they got there, Justin had opened the back door and was pulling a still unconscious Darnell out of it. Damon looked at Turiq, who was tied up and gagged, then smirked.

  “Sit tight, nigga,” Damon laughed as he slammed the doors shut. “Follow me,” he told the rest of them. With relative ease, Justin slung Darnell over his shoulder. Damon led them down a flight of stairs and into a large concrete room. The room was pretty much empty except for the four chairs sitting in the middle of it. In front of one of the chairs was a digital clock. But what caught everyone’s attention were the four bricks of C-4 placed in the corners. Damon smiled evilly as the rest of them looked at each other in shock. All except Moon, that is. He was the only one that Damon had shared his plan with. For all the rest of them knew, they were going to get Darnell, his daughter, and her friends in the basement and shoot them, but now, it was evident that Damon had something more sinister in store.

  “Put that bitch-ass nigga in the chair and tie his ass up,” he told Justin. While Justin was following his orders, Damon’s cell phone went off for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. He didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was.

  “Bitch, what the fuck do you want?”

  “Nigga, you know what the fuck I want. I wanna know why you did that foul shit to me. You promised me half a stack if I fucked your uncle, and then you reneged on that shit.”

  “Bitch, be cool on that shit. I told you I got you, but you’re gonna have to set that pussy out more than that if you think I’m gonna give your ass half a G. We’ll talk about the shit later. I’m busy, so don’t call me again today.” Damon hung up and was about to speak until his phone buzzed again. He started not to answer it but changed his mind when he saw that it was Rita. As soon as he answered the phone, she started talking.

  “Damon, we need to talk. I don’t know what you did to Janine, but you need to make that shit right. Her ass is losing it.”

  “I just got off the phone with her. It was just a little misunderstanding, that’s all. I had her do something for me, and she was under the impression that she only had to do it one time. For five hundred dollars, she’s gonna have to perform that act a few more times.”

  “Half a stack? Shit, baby, you shoulda called me for that.”

  “Next time, maybe I will. But look, I have to go. Swing by my pad later, around nine.”

  “Okay, but wait. There’s something else you should know about—”

  Damon hung up before Rita finished her sentence. In his mind, getting Dani, Rita, and Janine to become his whores was good for his introduction into the pimp game. After hanging up, he turned off his phone.

  “I’m gonna run outside and check on that other asshole. Kenne, wake this muthafucka up before I get back. Moon, come with me.”

  When they got to the top of the steps, Moon was instructed to wait there. He watched as Damon walked over to the van and opened the back doors. Damon appeared to yell at Turiq just seconds before drawing back and punching him in the face. He then slammed the door and walked back over to where Moon was standing.

  “I’ve wanted to do that shit for a year now,” he said, rubbing his knuckles. “Darnell’s slut daughter and her friends should be here shortly. When they get here, bring them down in the basement. I’m gonna send Justin and Kenne up here to make sure those hoes ain’t strapped when they come down. In a few short hours, this city is gonna belong to us. And just so you know, I want you to be my second in command. Slab and Paul won’t like it. Neither will my uncle, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m running this show,” Damon said before trotting back down the steps and leaving Moon standing there, speechless.

  * * *

  When Sunny pulled into the parking lot of the building, her heart sank. She was hoping that they would be able to somehow surprise and ambush Damon and his crew, but the three large men with automatic weapons standing guard nixed that idea.

  “Fuck,” she screamed as she came to a stop.

  “Get the fuck outta the car and keep ya’ hands where I can see ’em,” Justin screamed at them. He and Kenne both had their weapons pointed inside the vehicle, while Moon’s pistol remained tucked inside his waistband. Sunny, Jazmine, and Butter got out of the car. Moon looked at them and frowned.

  “Ain’t it supposed to be four of y’all? Where’s the other bitch at?” he asked.

  “Probably looking at your baby pictures,” Sunny said smartly.

  “Oh, I see you one of them smart-mouthed bitches, huh?” Kenne said. He drew back his hand to slap Sunny, but Moon grabbed it.

  “Man, this bitch needs to be put in her fucking place,” he spat.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Moon said. “As a matter of fact, take these other two hoes down in the basement while I have a little word with her,” Moon said, cracking his knuckles.

  Justin smiled as he and Kenne ushered Jazmine and Butter down the steps. Moon was trying his best not to look at Jazmine. Despite the situation, he still found her extremely attractive. When they were gone, he turned his attention back to Sunny.

  “So, I guess that was your way of calling my mother a bitch, huh? Bring your smart-mouthed ass on!” he yelled. Thirty seconds later, Moon was walking behind Sunny, forcing her do
wn the steps. Kenne laughed out loud when he saw the bruise on Sunny’s cheek. It was apparent that Moon had hit her. Sunny looked at her father and her friends, who were all tied up and gagged. She sprinted toward her father and threw her arms around him.

  “Daddy! Are you okay?”

  “About as well as a dead man can be,” Damon cracked. Sunny whirled around and shot daggers at him.

  “Nigga, what the fuck do you want from us?”

  “First of all, li’l bitch, I don’t want shit from you, ’cause you ain’t got shit to give. You see, that’s the fucking problem right there. I’ve been out here on these streets busting my ass for this nigga, and he wants to just give the entire kingdom to you? Someone who don’t know shit about the drug game? Nah, that’s some bullshit right there. Moon, take the tape off that nigga’s mouth. I wanna hear what he has to say about that shit.”

  To keep anyone else from beating him to the punch, Justin rushed over and ripped the tape off Darnell’s mouth. He loved inflicting pain on another human being. With a knot on the back of his head, Darnell glared at Damon.

  “Nigga, you know you dead for this, right? The other capos—”

  “Fuck them lame-ass niggas. Once your ass is in the ground, they won’t have a choice but to fall in line or join your ass in the afterlife. Moon, tie that bitch up,” he said, nodding toward Sunny.

  “My father is gonna kill all of y’all for this betrayal,” Jazmine told them. For the first time since they’d been captured, it occurred to Sunny that Turiq wasn’t there.

  “Is that right? Well, I don’t know how the fuck he’s gonna do that. Your punk-ass daddy is probably in hell sucking the devil’s dick right about now,” he said, making it seem like he’d killed Turiq.

  Jazmine’s heart caught in her throat. It hadn’t occurred to her that her father could have been a casualty in Damon’s hostile takeover. Tears flooded her eyes.