by Dutch
“We gonna need a car. Hawk, you got us covered?” Guy checked.
“If it got fo’ wheels, nigguh, I can steal it,” Hawk boast-ed.
Guy knew everything was in place. He just wanted to double check and if need be, triple check. He took off his coat and pulled a chair up to the table. There was nothing left to do but wait until nightfall.
“Deal me in,” Guy told them.
Chico Jones stepped out the bar on Flatbush Avenue and lit a cigarette. He was tipsy but not drunk and ready to fuck the shit outta the young thang on his arm.
“Psst, my man,” Scatter whispered, leaning against the wall.
Chico turned around.
“You wanna buy a brand new watch?”
Scatter held out Guy’s diamond Rolex. The bar light reflecting against the blue diamonds made Chico take notice. He could tell it was an expensive watch, so he came over.
“Nigguh, who you steal this shit from?” Chico asked.
“Dig, bossman, you askin’ a little bit too much. The important thing is, I got it,” Scatter replied.
Chico picked up on his country accent and smiled inwardly, thinking he could fast talk the country nigguh and get the watch for a song.
“Nigguh, you know who I am? Huh? I’m Chico Jones and this is my muhfuckin’ block!” he boasted, stunting for the chick. “Now yo’ best bet is to look out for the house, so that the house may look out for you.”
Scatter smiled. “I can dig it, bossman.”
“Now how much you want for the watch?”
“Yo’ life!” Hawk hissed, grabbing Chico from behind and shoving him in the alley beside the bar.
Before the chick could scream, Scatter had already gutted her with his six-inch blade. Jerking in an upwards motion, he silenced her forever and snatched her into the alley.
Hawk Bill wasted no time slitting Chico’s throat ear to ear and leaving him spitting up blood. They laid both bodies in the alley and Scatter then fished Chico’s keys out of his pocket.
“You won’t be needin’ these, will you, bossman?” he quipped.
Guy pulled up in the stolen Buick Park Avenue. Hawk Bill jumped in the passenger seat while Scatter got in Chico’s red Coup de Ville and pulled off behind Guy.
Bonk! Bonk!
Hawk Bill laid low in the front seat of Chico’s Cadillac while Scatter was in the passenger seat. They were in the Bronx in front of Mo Jenkins’ house on Tremont Ave. A young dude stuck his head out the door.
“’Ay, youngblood, tell Mo Chico said come here,” Scatter called out.
The young boy disappeared inside. Mo came out and saw Chico’s car with a smiling Scatter looking at him.
“What up, Chico? Fuck you doin’ way over here?” Mo asked as he rounded the trunk and came up to the driver’s side window. But instead of seeing Chico he saw an unfamiliar face.
“Where’s Chico?” Mo asked, instincts telling him to run.
Before he could, Hawk Bill gripped him by the shirt and put the .38 snub to his forehead. “Same place you gonna go!”
Boom! Boom!
Mo’s lifeless body fell to the street, kicking and twitching as the Caddy skidded off.
Scatter was getting antsy. They had been sitting in Smitty’s apartment for the last four hours. It was almost three in the morning. They had been there so long; Hawk Bill was in the kitchen frying bologna.
Smitty’s wife sat on the couch, nervously wringing her
hands.
“Sometimes he doesn’t come home for days,” she told them, hoping the men would get tired and go.
“Then we gonna wait for days,” Guy assured her, his .32 resting on his knee.
“Please, let me go… what’s between you and Smitty is between you and Smitty,” she said, cursing herself for the hundredth time for opening the door for Guy.
She had known better. Smitty had beat it in her head, to never let another man in the house while he wasn’t home. But she knew Guy’s face. She had seen him around with Smitty and she had been at Nicky’s party. She was one of the women that were eyeing Guy. That country charm and easy smile had enticed her to open the door; now her life was in danger because of a moment of indiscretion.
“Man, Guy, I ain’t fo’ all this sittin’ ‘round. Hawk fryin’ ’loney like he home. Nigguh, smack that bitch up! She know where her old man at!” Scatter spat.
“I swear I don’t!”
“She don’t know, man,” Guy confirmed. He knew Smitty kept his wife in the dark just like he kept Gloria in the dark.
“Man, god-damn,” Scatter drawled. He had already rummaged the house, finding twelve hundred dollars and some jewelry he planned on giving his old lady.
It was another twenty minutes before they finally heard the key in the door. Guy put his hand over her mouth and Scatter got behind the door. When Smitty entered, he was looking down the barrel of Scatter’s .357 Magnum.
“Yo, what the—”
Boom!
One shot echoed through the whole apartment, making Scatter regret using the gun instead of the blade. Without hesitation, Guy used Hawk Bill’s blade to slit Smitty’s wife’s throat. The three of them then climbed out the window to the fire escape and descended to make their getaway.
“Guy? Man, do you know what time it is?” Eddie said half asleep when he opened the door.
It couldn’t wait,” Guy replied as he entered the apartment.
Hawk Bill had suggested being the one to hit Eddie, but Guy wasn’t with it. He wanted to do it himself. He felt the most he owed Eddie was to do it himself. Besides, he was hoping Eddie would give him some reason, any reason, to justify what Guy came to do. Guy’s mind may’ve been made up but his conscience was still at odds.
When Guy turned around, he saw the gun in Eddie’s hand. His reflexes tensed as his guilt made him imagine Eddie raising the gun and shooting him.
Eddie saw Guy look at the gun. “Nigguh, I ain’t know who it was bangin’ on my door in the middle of the night,” Eddie explained, putting the gun in his robe pocket. “Now what’s so important it couldn’t wait?”
Guy relaxed and sat on the couch. Eddie sat in the arm chair across from him. Guy just looked at him.
“Nigguh, I know I’m a pretty motherfucka, but goddamn, you just ain’t my type,” Eddie joked.
Guy laughed stiffly. Eddie was the only thing standing between him and a million dollar connect. But, he couldn’t do it. So he said, “Man, it’s Gloria.”
“What about her?”
Guy rubbed his face.
“You want a drink or something’?” Eddie asked with concern. He remembered how Guy was acting earlier, so he knew he had something on his mind.
“Yeah,” Guy sighed.
Eddie got up and went a few feet over to the bar. “Yeah, brah, I know Gloria gotta helluva mouth on her, but she a good girl and she love you,” Eddie said, while fixing two drinks.
He had his back to Guy, so he didn’t see Guy ease the gun out his coat. Guy only half listened to Eddie. He started to just sneak up behind him and shoot him in the back of the head, but Guy was too much of a man for that. So instead he said, “When was you gonna tell me about that Nicky shit?”
“Huh?” he replied.
Guy stood to his feet. “Nigguh, you heard me,” Guy’s voice got stronger.
He caught Eddie off guard when Eddie turned around and saw the gun.
“Guy? What the hell you—”
“Nigguh, don’t play dumb wit’ me! Nicky and half the Council got warrants. Shit about to hit the fan and you ain’t tell me nothin’??” Guy barked. He wanted Eddie to buck, he needed Eddie to buck so he could justify in his own mind killing his man.
Eddie was in shock. He didn’t know where all this was coming from. He searched Guy’s eyes to see if he was high, tripping off dust or something. But he could see that Guy was sober and intended on killing him. So he thought fast.
“Guy, listen, that ain’t got nothin’ to do wit’ us. We okay, baby. We—”
“It’s got everything to do wit’ us! Or maybe you one of the nigguh’s wit’ the warrants! You plannin’ on turnin’ rat, Eddie??”
Eddie had long tuned out Guy’s illogical rantings. His only concern was survival. He kept a close eye on Guy, waiting for his chance and when it came, he didn’t hesitate. Eddie threw the drink in Guy’s eyes, partially blinding Guy with the alcohol. Eddie went into his robe pocket for the .32 automatic. The barrel of the pistol got caught on the inside lining of the pocket just as Guy lunged at him, firing a shot wildly. Eddie shot through his pocket as he struggled to hold Guy’s gun hand. The shot caught Guy in the side.
“Fuck!” Guy bellowed as he fell against Eddie. He had recover-ed his sight and was restraining Eddie’s gun hand while Eddie was restraining his.
“Nigguh, what the fuck is wrong wit’ you?!” Eddie barked. “What the fuck I’ma kill you for?!”
Guy didn’t answer. He slung Eddie against the wall and began over powering Eddie with sheer strength, bringing his gun closer and closer to Eddie’s head. Eddie realized that he was fighting a losing battle, so he opted to use both hands to restrain Guy’s hand. With Guy’s other hand free he hooked Eddie hard in the jaw, buckling Eddie. Guy stepped back and fired three times into Eddie’s chest.
“What-what did I do?” Eddie questioned as he slid down the wall. It was a question he’d never get the answer to.
His dead body slumped to the ground. Guy stood over him and put two more in his head. Guy knew too many gunshots had gone off in the apartment, but Eddie didn’t have a fire escape so he was forced to use the front door. He turned the door knob with his coat jacket then stumbled out into the hallway.
He felt weak from the loss of blood and momentarily leaned against the wall, holding his side. He stumbled off down the hallway. The lady across the hall was looking out of her peep hole when he came out. She had heard all the gunshots and called the police. She cautiously unlocked the door and peeped down the hallway trying to get a better look at the fleeing man.
“You’re where?! Oh my God, Guy, are you okay?! I’m on my way!” Gloria squealed over the phone.
Guy had Scatter and Hawk Bill take him to a hospital in Fort Lee, New Jersey, just across the border of New York.
“No, baby, I’m okay. The doc said it was a flesh wound… have you heard from Eddie?” he asked, trying to prepare her for what was to come.
“No, why? Is my brother alright?”
“I-I don’t know, Glo. The nigguhs who got at me were looking for him,” Guy lied.
“Oh, God please,” Gloria moaned.
“Just sit tight, baby, okay? I’ll be outta here in a minute. Just try and relax, okay? I love you!”
“I’ll try, Guy. I love you, too.”
But Gloria wouldn’t get a chance to relax. A few hours later she found out Eddie had been killed. The stress of Guy getting shot then Eddie found dead was too much. She went into labor and had to be rushed to the hospital. The baby would be born prematurely but eight hours later, she gave birth to a six-pound three-ounce boy. He was named Kevin Edward Simmons.
The next morning Guy stood in front of the glass looking at his first born son. His chest swelled with pride. He could see nothing but good things in his future. He was ready to take on the world. Gloria’s mother walked up.
“Hello, Mrs. Bell,” Guy greeted her then hugged her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mrs. Bell didn’t even hug him back. When he broke the embrace, she looked him in the eyes and said, “You may have everybody else fooled, but I can look through muddy water and see dry land. But it’s all in the Lord’s time, then all you do in the dark…will come to light.”
With that she walked away, and it would be the last words she’d speak to Guy up to the day she died ten years later. She didn’t even come to their wedding.
But Guy had succeeded in fooling the streets. Rumors abounded everywhere, from Chico had killed Mo, to Mo had Chico, to Nicky had all of them killed. No matter the rumor, Guy’s name never came up. He spent the next two months keeping a low profile then when the Council started to get arrested left and right, he used that as an excuse to relocate to North Carolina. The Reign of the Council had officially ended in ’81. But the Dynasty of the Simmons Family had just begun.
Chapter 12
Ty opened the door of his apartment for Kev. They greeted each other with a pound and a ghetto hug.
“What up, Kev, how you?” Ty asked as they settled down on Ty’s couch.
“Chillin’, Fam… what’s that?” Kev asked gesturing to the 50-inch plasma mounted on the wall.
“You don’t remember this shit? Benny Blanco from the Bronx,” Ty remarked, imitating a Spanish accent.
“Naw,” Kev shook his head.
“Carolito’s Way! Remember when that shit came out and we was all hyped?” Ty smiled.
“Hell yeah and I remember my mother caught us skippin’ school and beat our ass all the way out the theater!” Kev chuckled. “That’s why I don’t remember this part ‘cause I ain’t seen the rest since!” Both brothers laughed.
“And remember what Pop said?” Ty smirked.
“Serve y’all asses right for telegraphin’ your next move,” Kev said in a deep drawl, imitating Guy.
They laughed again. When the laughter subsided they both were silent a moment thinking how it all was so simple then. Ty paused the DVD.
“So, what’s good?”
“I talked to ol’ boy,” Kev started, speaking of his Wolf Pack mole. Ty already knew who it was, and they never named names if it wasn’t necessary, “you know Dino gettin’ married Saturday?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be the best man. Anyway, ol’ boy said that’s when the Wolf Pack is plannin’ on gettin’ at me,” Kev explained.
“Oh word?” Ty growled. “Well joke’s on them then ‘cause that’s when we’ll be gettin’ at them!”
“Exactly!” Kev seconded. “I convinced Dino to postpone the wedding. His fiancée’ pitched a bitch, but I offered to pay for the whole family to have the wedding in Puerto Rico.
“Yeah well, better a late wedding than an early funeral,” Ty commented.
“Word.”
“Which is right on time for this New York shit,” Ty told him.
“What New York shit?”
“Your peeps up top,” Ty replied.
Kev sighed. “Ty, I told you that deal ain’t—”
“Naw, naw it ain’t about that deal right now. It’s about Pops.”
“What about him?”
Ty leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, I know you feel like Vee and them hit Pop but I know it wasn’t them. But with all this shit goin’ on, we ain’t even consider the Bells.”
“The Bells? Why would they come at us like that?” Kev wanted to know.
Ty shrugged. “I don’t know, unless some how they found out our ol’ boy mercked their ol’ boy,” Ty explained, speaking about Guy killing Eddie.
Kev nodded. “Yeah, but how?”
“I don’t know… or maybe they felt like, wit’ Pop out the way, I could convince you to move on the deal wit’ me. They already know I’m for it.”
Kev nodded again, thinking it over.
Ty continued. “I talked to fam up top and told him I needed his help. He’s sendin’ down a little crew. I ‘posed to pick them up tomorrow from the train station.”
“But how we ‘posed to—”
Ty cut him off, anticipating his question. “ ‘Cause if he did it, I guarantee whoever he send to help had a hand in the hit, too. I can hear the nigguh now like, ‘Yeah, son, the same nigguhs I sent to body the old man, I’m sendin’ to help them dumb nigguhs cover they tracks,’ feel me?”
Kev smirked. “I feel you, lil’ brah. So now we run they names and see if they been down here befo’ and when and if they have…” Kev’s sentence trailed off.
“Then we take it to the Bells,” Ty added. Guy had raised them t
he same so they thought alike.
“And if it ain’t them, the only other thing I know is some old coon Pop was beefin’ wit’ back in the day. He just came home after doing twenty plus in prison. Cat named Brah Hardy,” Ty explained.
“Hardy?”
“Yeah, ‘cept I can’t find this nigguh nowhere. I wanna look this nigguh in the eyes myself.”
Kev shrugged. “That’s nothin’. One of my youngens is a Hardy. He’ll get us out Brah Hardy.”
“Cool.”
Kev took a deep breath. Silence filled the room. They both knew why, but no one spoke on the elephant in the room.
Kev stook up and shook Ty’s hand. “Aw-iight… I’m out.”
“I’ll get at you tomorrow after I leave the train station.”
“Bet.” Kev walked slowly to the door. He opened it. Without turning to look at Ty he said, “Ty?”
“Yeah?”
Pause.
“Do you love her?” Kev asked.
Pause.
“Naw, Kev. I don’t.”
Kev looked over his shoulder and replied, “I do.”
He left out closing the door behind him. Those two words along with the look on Kev’s face were enough to convince Ty he had to end it with Karrin once and for all. No matter how much it hurt.
Ty sat reclined in his Escalade, mellowing to the sounds of Jasmine Sullivan. He checked his watch then glanced around the train station in Wilson, NC. Looking around, he could pick out the undercover police mulling around. He shook his head with a smirk. Anybody with half a brain knew the Amtrak wasn’t the move to smuggle drugs anymore, especially in Wilson. The spot had been blown too many times. He glanced down the tracks and saw the approaching train in the distance. He checked his watch once again. The train was fifteen minutes late.
He stepped out of the truck after the train pulled up and the people began to disembark. He scanned the passengers casually. He didn’t know who he was looking for, but they knew he’d be pushing a navy blue Escalade.
“Hey, cutie,” he heard a sweet feminine voice call out and he turned to see who was talking to whom.