The Union

by Tremayne Johnson

  Brandi's eyes were identical to his.

  Mox stood up and tried to take a moment to think, but Priscilla was persistent

  “Oh, and if that ain't enough… come here, Brandi.” She unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. “What's that right there?” she pointed to Brandi's star shaped birthmark at the top of her back.

  Mox felt electricity shoot through his body. It was the same birthmark he had, in the exact same location. He started sweating and it was thirty-two degrees outside. He couldn't take his eyes off Brandi. He remembered the last night he and Priscilla were together, now all of a sudden it seemed like yesterday.

  Mox reached out to touch Brandi's shoulder and she lunged into his arms. He held her close and tight and then he turned to look at Priscilla, and she was gone.

  ELEVEN

  Almost a week had passed, and Mox still hadn't found Priscilla. He had no number, no address and not a clue of where she could be. How could a parent abandon their child? He thought, but the irony was that he had done the exact same thing.

  Vegas was hours away, and Mox had a newfound duty as a father; to raise his child. If that was the case, he would have no problem stepping up, but his lifestyle was dangerous and the last thing he wanted to do was put his baby girl in harm’s way.

  “How you know she’s yours?”

  “You saw her, Cleo. She looks just like me.”

  Cleo grabbed a few chips out the bag that was sitting on the table and stuffed them in his mouth. “I wouldn’t trust no fiend.”

  “Priscilla ain’t no fiend, she’s just going through somethin’ right now. I know her.”

  “You know her?”

  “Yeah, I know her.” Mox got defensive.

  Cleo could see he was getting under his skin. “So, how you gon’ handle this? I mean, a little girl is big responsibility.”

  “I know, Cleo,” Mox said, rubbing his temples. The stress of the situation was setting in and he didn’t know how to deal with it. “The fucked up part is, she hasn’t mentioned her mother yet.”

  “That should tell you something. Her mother probably don’t give a fuck.”

  Mox was fed up. “I don’t need your negative feedback, Cleo. Keep your opinion to yourself.”

  Mox glanced over at Brandi, sound asleep on the couch. Every time he looked at her, he saw more of himself. It was surprising and astounding at the same time.

  Their flight to Vegas was departing in less than three hours and he was hoping Cleo’s girl, Susan would watch after Brandi while they were gone. At first thought, Mox was a bit skeptical on leaving his child with a stranger, but after reasoning, Cleo convinced him.

  Susan had mocha skin, full lips, round hips and big hair. She owned a brownstone on 138th and Amsterdam Avenue in Harlem. She also had an eight year old daughter who looked to be well taken care of, so Mox felt at ease.

  “I didn’t know you had a daughter, Mox,” Susan said, taking a seat next to Brandi.”

  “Me either.” He laughed. “Susan, you sure it won’t be a problem leaving her here?”

  “Mox, how many times am I going to tell you, it’s ok, besides, my daughter will be home in the morning so she’ll have someone to play with. Trust me, she’s good.”

  Mox looked around at the stylish home, he was impressed. You can tell a lot about a person’s character as soon as you step through the door to their house and he knew Cleo wouldn’t recommend someone who wasn’t trustworthy. He just had that brand new father jitters.

  Two and a half hours later, Cleo and Mox were on a flight to Vegas.

  __________

  The plane landed at McCarran International on Wayne Newton Blvd.

  Mox and Cleo jumped into a limo and headed to the Palazzo hotel. As usual, Cleo wasted no time hitting the casino, while Mox went and checked into his room. He had a lot on his mind. A war with the Italians was slowly brewing, and making the wrong move could lead to a disastrous ending for them all.

  He spent the rest of the night thinking about his daughter and drinking his pains away. By the time the sun rose, he was ready to see what the Italians had to say.

  One by one, each Union delegate entered the large conference room and took a seat. Mikey and Vito sat at one end of the oak table while Cleo and Mox sat at the other. The remaining four Reps sat in twos on each side and, Tommy, Mikey and Vito’s cousin, stood off to the side.

  Tommy was ordered by The Old Man to escort Mikey and Vito to the meeting just in case things got out of hand. Tommy stood 6 ft. 5 inches and had to weigh in at a good 290 pounds. His gorilla like features made him hard to look at, and his scowl was always minacious.

  Mikey stood to talk. “Greetings, gentlemen... due to a family situation, The Old Man will not be joining us today, so Vito and I will be speaking on his behalf.”

  Everyone nodded their head in recognition except for Mox.

  Slumped in his chair, sporting a three thousand dollar suit, he blew smoke clouds into the air. “So, you the boss now?” he said, sarcastically.

  Mikey smiled and sat back down.

  “Mox, let me handle this,” Cleo interrupted.

  “Good morning, delegates. As you all know, this is the first meeting of the year, so happy New Year to you and your families. Next, nothing has changed as far as Union dues so let's get that out the way first.”

  At the start of the meeting each Union Rep is responsible for their monthly Union fees. The fee amount varies between boroughs and the total amount is then split between Mox, Cleo, and the Italians.

  Each Rep opened up a briefcase, said their total amount, and emptied the contents into a bag that sat atop the table. It totaled $700,000 cash.

  Mikey rose from his seat to address the Union. “Mox, I think I deserve a thank you.”

  “A thank you? For what?”

  “For lettin’ you breathe. Only off the strength of Cleo are you still alive.”

  “Suck a dick, Mikey. If you wanna go to war, fuck it, let's go to war.”

  Cleo jumped in. “Hold up guys, nobody's going to war here. It's too much money involved.”

  “Well, put a leash on your dog, Cleo.” Vito barked. “He's way outta line.”

  “No, you’re outta line, Vito. I didn't start this shit, you did.” Mox replied.

  “It doesn't matter who started what. We got a problem and we need to get it solved here and now.” Cleo said.

  “Cleo, you know I got respect for you as well as every other man sitting at this table,” Mikey stated. “But the disrespect will no longer be tolerated; let’s not forget who brought you in this.”

  “So, what are you saying, Mikey?”

  “I said it, Cleo. What I say goes. My father started you guys in this business and I’ll be damned if I let your hot headed cousin screw it up.”

  Mox’s anger increased. “You gon’ let him talk to you like that, Cleo?”

  “Cleo’s not the problem Mox, it’s you!” Vito shouted.

  Mikey walked over to the opposite end of the table and immediately Mox stood in defense. Their eyes locked.

  Tommy stood still in the back with his chest pumped.

  “If you gon’ make a move, Mikey it better be a good one. Remember, we playing chess here, not checkers.” Mox reminded.

  Vito sat in his chair, snickering. “Well, it looks to me like you’re playing without your queen,” he teased.

  Mox thought about pulling his weapon and shooting Vito between the eyes, but that wouldn’t be enough for him. He wanted to make them feel the pain and anguish he was feeling.

  “You know the body ain’t worth shit without the head, right?” Mox hinted.

  Vito’s face instantly turned red. Nobody threatened a Telesco and got away with it. “You got some fuckin’ nerve, Mox. Are you making threats now?”

  “Gentlemen,” Cleo intervened. “This is going nowhere. All the bickering back and forth ain’t solving the problem. We’re here to discuss business and all I hear is bitching.

  “You right, Cleo. That
Queens issue hasn’t been resolved yet either,” Mox said.

  “You still talkin’ about Queens?” Mikey replied. “Nobody’s touchin’ Queens, that’s that.”

  Cleo sensed the frustration. “Fair is fair, Mikey. We had an agreement and you guys broke it.”

  “Queens was never part of the deal,” Vito chimed.

  Mox slowly shook his head and turned his wolf like eyes up to his cousin. “You see how they treat us, Cleo…” he paused and looked each man at the table in their eyes. “You trust these muthafuckas?”

  Cleo didn’t respond immediately, he just stared. Then he said, “Yeah, I trust ‘em.”

  “Well, I don’t!” Mox raised his nine with the swiftness and precision of a firearm specialist. Simultaneously each Rep stood with their guns pointed at the Italians.

  Tommy reached to draw his weapon, but it was too late.

  Mox held his gun firm and approached Vito who was still sitting, scared to death. “Talk that tough guy shit now, Vito.”

  Mikey kept his cool. “Mox, you making a big mistake.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well we all sometimes make mistakes. What counts is how we deal with the consequences.”

  “Mox! What the fuck are you doing?!”

  “Cleo, chill. I got this. Papi! Get the bag, we out.”

  Mox cocked his gun and put it to Vito’s kneecap while Papi grabbed the bag of money. He could smell the parmesan cheese on his breath from his heavy breathing.

  He sensed the fear.

  Mikey tried to move, but Nate snatched his arm and shoved a pistol to his neck.

  On the other side, Javier and Frank held Tommy at bay.

  “Don’t do this, Mox!” Cleo urged.

  Mox looked at Cleo then over to Mikey. His smile turned poisonous seconds before he choked the trigger and blew Vito’s kneecap to shreds.

  The violent squall could be heard throughout the entire top floor.

  Mikey watched in rage as his little brother begged for his life. “You muthafucker!” he shrieked.

  Vito fell to the floor, blood spilling from his wound. He had never been shot before, the pain was grueling.

  Mox turned to leave, but glanced back at Cleo. “You coming or not?”

  Cleo never answered; he just stood up and walked out.

  “You think you gonna get away with this shit, Cleo?” Mikey yelled. “I'm gonna fuckin' bury you!”

  “Hey, Mikey... tell The Old Man I said grazie!” (Thank You) Mox joked.

  __________

  Mox's plan wasn't to go to Vegas and shoot Vito, but after they killed Kim he was acting on emotion. He had really had love for Kim.

  Knowing Cleo wouldn't agree with his original idea, which was to take the Union fees, he promised the Reps a percentage of the total amount if they agreed to hold him down.

  Before shooting Vito, Mox carefully weighed his options. In his heart, he felt he could not only handle a war with the Italians, but win in the process. All he needed was to get Cleo to see things the way he did.

  Feathery snow flurries fell from the sky, blanketing the concrete as the 25 mph winds raked the naked trees and ripped its branches.

  A shiny, black Town car came to a complete stop directly across the street from the projects and Cleo stepped out.

  “Meet me back here in one hour, Chris.” He instructed.

  Two whole days had passed since the Vegas episode and Cleo hadn’t spoken to Mox yet. He was considerably upset and wanted an explanation at once. His ties with the Italians were sure to be severed completely, and even more than that ,he now had to keep a close watch of his surroundings and move about cautiously.

  Cleo hustled down the wintry strip and into building 60. The overpowering stench of weed, urine and cigarette smoke filled his nostrils upon entry. He stepped onto the pitch black elevator and hit the button to go to the sixth floor. When the door opened, Cleo went right to apartment 6H and knocked loudly.

  Inside the apartment, Dana scurried to the back room to warn Mox that someone was at the door.

  “Shh…” He put his index finger to his lips and removed his weapon from his waistline. “Go get Brandi and bring her back here,” he whispered.

  Dana was Mox’s best friend growing up. She stood 5’9, mahogany brown skin, sexy heart shaped lips, thick thighs and a firm ass from her dedicated 3-days-a week workout plan. She was well educated, and more than likely the only female he actually slept in a bed with and never once pursued sex. They had a mutual respect for each other, and Dana only wanted to see Mox prosper.

  Back when they were younger, he would run over to her building and knock on her door after he got a beating. He stood there each time with dried up tears on his cheek, snot falling from his nostrils and the saddest frown you ever saw. Dana had no choice but to let him in, because she knew all he wanted was some of her mother’s chocolate chip cookies. She felt bad for Mox. She really liked him as a friend and was one of the few who saw with her own eyes, the struggle he was going through.

  Dana tip-toed to the front, grabbed Brandi, and walked her to the back while Mox went to see who was knocking. He glimpsed through the peephole and recognized Cleo standing there with a face full of frustration.

  The door opened, and Cleo’s eyes fell on the gun Mox held in his left hand. “I don’t think killers knock on the door,” he teased.

  “The last one did.” Mox clarified. He peered in to the hallway to make sure no one else was there. “What’s good cousin? I knew you’d be coming around sooner or later.”

  Cleo shook his head with resentment and entered the apartment. “That shit you pulled in Vegas gon’ get us killed for sure. What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, Mox?”

  “Keep your voice down Cleo, Brandi and Dana in the back room.”

  “Mox, you don’t get it. You initiated a war with the Italians. This shit is serious.”

  “It ain’t no more serious than going to war with niggas on the block, Cleo. Don’t tell me you scared of these dudes?”

  “It’s not about being scared. It’s about being smart and making the best suitable decision,” Cleo reasoned.

  “The best suitable decision?” he repeated. “Listen cousin, our original agreement with the Italians was twenty percent of everything, with the possibility of an increase upon us driving the numbers up. Now tell me if I’m wrong, but from day one until now… those numbers are up and always have been.” Mox sat in the fold up chair next to the sofa and fronted Cleo. “These bastards making millions off us, Cleo, and all we eating is scraps off the fuckin’ table!”

  “You greedy Mox.”

  “I’m not greedy. I’m hungry. You saw that little girl. Ain’t no denying that, Cleo That’s my reality and I gotta handle that, so this shit ain’t even about me no more.”

  Mox got up from his seat and sat next to Cleo on the sofa. “I got too much love for you to let a nigga hurt you. You know that. We family, nigga, and right now I need you.”

  “I don’t know, Mox.”

  “Hold up. I’ll be right back.” Mox got up and went to the bedroom. He came out with the bag from Vegas. “I got three hundred stacks in here and half is yours. I hit Nate, Javier, Frank and Papi off with a hundred a piece, so everybody is good.”

  Cleo gazed down at the bag full of money. One hundred and fifty thousand was much better than the usual twenty percent they got, but it came at a heavy price that he wasn’t willing to pay.

  “You had this planned out already, huh?”

  Mox smirked. “Not really. I ain’t gon’ lie, I was gon’ take that bread, but then they killed my girl, Cleo. I had to make somebody bleed.”

  “I don’t think you understand what you getting yourself in to.”

  Mox carefully listened to Cleo’s words. “So, you don’t want none of this?” He asked, ruffling through the stacks of bills.”

  Cleo got up from the sofa and gestured to make his exit. “We can’t win this one, Mox. Sometimes you gotta know when to bow out.”

  “I ain’t bo
wing down to nobody, fuck them Italians!” Mox hissed. “You go over there and try to talk to them muthafuckas and they gon’ blow your head off. They don’t give a fuck about you, Cleo, you just another nigga. Do you really think Mikey gon’ ride with you before he ride with his family?”

  “I knew Mikey since we were kids.” Cleo reasoned, opening the front door.