Freeze knew that he spoke the truth because mostly everybody in his crew was a bona fide weedhead who smoked multiple blunts a day. “Well, you know I got the lane for that, but it’s not really my thing,” Freeze stated.
“Yeah, you like that dope game,” Frenchie said, shooting Freeze a sideways glance.
“Yeah, that fast, scary paper,” Freeze chimed in, and began laughing.
Freeze handled the big truck with ease, weaving in and out of traffic. Freeze noticed a lot of people squinting their eyes trying to see through the tinted windows and find out who was pushing the exclusive SUV. Other people knew that the truck belonged to Freeze.
As they floated through the city of Las Vegas, some local hustlers “yo’d” him, throwing up a fist of acknowledgment. Freeze would return the gesture by honking his horn. Frenchie laughed as he saw a group of young girls nearly break their necks, openly gawking at the truck as it passed by.
“I see this big mu’fucka gets a lot of attention.”
“Yeah, that’s why I barely drive it. I usually stay in one of my hoopties or a rental car. This shit attracts the wrong kind of attention. Too many eyes be on me when I come through in this shit. Plus, narcs be on my dick for real. Anyway, you home now. If that’s what you wanna do, then I got you,” Freeze assured Frenchie.
“I was sitting in that fuckin’ jail for too long. I ain’t trying to go back. I just wanna stack my bread from the bud and stay in my own fuckin’ lane. But if you need me or if something pops up and it’s sweet enough, worth my time, and worth the risk, then you know . . .” Frenchie didn’t finish the statement. He was sure Freeze knew what he meant.
“Yo, I might have something for you. It’s definitely some major paper involved, too.”
Frenchie’s interest grew. “Yeah, holla at me.”
Freeze was already putting a plan together in his head as he spoke. “I be fuckin’ with these Arizona cats, ’cause I’m trying to branch off to that E pill game. It’s a lot of money in that shit and I been fuckin’ with them for damn near two months now and they heavy. We might be able to put our heads together and make something happen,” Freeze said. “Only thing is, it’s these fucking dyke bitches in the way, fucking up the flow.”
“The chicks from the club, right?” Frenchie asked.
“Yeah, them motherfuckas.” The disdain for the Double Gs could be heard in Freeze’s tone.
“Since when bitches start running shit in Vegas?” Frenchie wanted to know.
“Shit change, unc.” Freeze shook his head. Same way I felt until they caught me slipping, Freeze wished he could have said, but he knew he never would, due to the blackmailing content they had hanging over his head. He reflected on the eventful day, remembering the evening and the words that had altered his life forever.
He thought it was all just a bad dream. The image of him being cuffed to the bedrail angered him all over again. The recollection of the burning sensation that had registered in the lower half of his body still had him randomly waking up in cold sweats. “Wha . . . What the fuck did y’all do to me?” he remembered asking the two thick twins, not really wanting to know the answer. He couldn’t even remember if he was awake for it all, but the sharp pain shooting through his anus told the story of exactly what happened. And then he heard the unfamiliar voice enter his left ear.
“Hello, Mr. Frost. Or should I address you by your street moniker?” The voice let out a light chuckle. “Anyway, this is the leader of the Double Gs organization. Maybe you’ve heard of us, maybe you haven’t, but we are a well-known resistance group of the underworld. And we are well protected. You have just been part of an initiation process by these two young ladies. They are now under our umbrella. We are responsible for them and their well-being. So, please, before you think about any type of retaliation, do your research on us first. You will find that there are many just like you who have been targeted and then forced to become our allies if ever we need assistance of any kind. If you weren’t considered to be a useful asset to our organization, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because you’d be dead already.
“I am very aware of your power, and exactly what you are capable of. I also know your limits and, more importantly, your reach. And that’s where we are up on you. You are restricted. Local. We are spread throughout the entire nation. We are everywhere you can think of or even imagine. And, everywhere we are, there are dozens like you who are forced to deal with us, even though they despise who we are, what we do, what we are about and, even more importantly, what we have done.
“Here’s the deal. I have live footage of what just took place. It is stored away in a computer file along with hundreds of others. If you choose to retaliate or show resistance in any kind of way, shape, form, or fashion, you will be killed. But only after we finish stripping you of everything and every person you love or even cared about. And, on top of all that, the footage will be played at your funeral. Copies will be handed out to everyone throughout the entire Las Vegas area connected or associated with you. Your crew will spit on your name. Your legacy will be tarnished and reduced to dirt. And all you will be known for is being a has-been gangsta who got killed ’cause he fucked with the wrong bitches and got fucked!”
Those were the last words spoken before the phone went dead in his ear and the twins uncuffed him.
Freeze shook off the thoughts and returned to his conversation with Frenchie. After hearing Frenchie’s question, Freeze’s mind was made up. He knew if he ever wanted to feel whole again, he had to do something about those who had violated him and were holding him back. Before, it was Prime and his crew who stood in his way of progression, but since their last encounter, the Prime Minister was no longer a factor. In fact, both he and Prime had the same issue: the Double Gs.
“So, if I needed some work put in, you would be interested if the price was right?”
“Oh, most definitely,” Frenchie confirmed. “But for you, price or no price I got you,” he added.
“Appreciate it. But business is business. I actually wouldn’t mind paying for this shit.”
Frenchie nodded. “I feel you, nephew. Sounds like some personal shit.”
More than you’ll ever know, thought Freeze as he pulled up to Frenchie’s destination. “Very,” Freeze replied.
“Any nigga or niggas I know? I mean, I know I been off the scene for a minute.”
“Nah, it’s no dudes,” Freeze corrected him. “It’s some bitches. Twins to be exact,” he explained.
“Oh, yeah?” Frenchie was surprised. Not that it had mattered. It wasn’t like he had never killed a female before. “The ones you were just talkin’ about?”
Freeze gave a confirming nod.
“Say no more. Holla at me when you ready so we can sit down and build, know what I’m saying?” Frenchie dapped Freeze up before hopping out of the truck.
As he pulled off, Freeze had already started to feel better about things. Yeah, you bitches’ days are numbered, he concluded. Fucking Double Gs. The thought caused him to let out an insane laugh as he pulled back onto the main street.
Chapter 23
McCarthy and Reddick pulled up to the luxurious condo Prime owned in the outer part of the city. McCarthy had no way of knowing that he had just missed Monica by thirty minutes. A group of young men stood posted up in front of the gated home that Prime had added along with all of the security surveillance. They all were legally strapped with their weapon of choice. After being radioed, they slowly dispersed from in front of the gate right before it opened up.
“Fucking crackers,” one of the men sang loudly before sprinting off.
“Assholes,” Reddick mumbled under his breath as McCarthy pulled in.
The door of Perry Minister, known to the streets as the Prime Minister, lay ahead of the agents. The pungent odor of marijuana hung heavy in the air. They reached the door and just listened for a second before knocking. McCarthy heard footsteps approaching the door. He knew at that moment he and Redd
ick were being thoroughly inspected through the peephole.
“Who are you and how may we help you?” a male voice asked.
“Ahh, the FBI, and you can help by opening up this door and letting us in,” Reddick answered. He held his shield up to the peephole and placed it in front of it.
“Yeah? And? What do you want?” the voice snapped.
“Bold motherfuckers!” Reddick uttered.
“I got this,” McCarthy silenced him and then stepped in front of Reddick with his shield out. “We need to ask a Mr. Perry Minister a few questions. Is he here?” McCarthy asked.
There was silence on the other side of the door for a few seconds, and then locks could be heard clicking, and the door swung open. A young light-skinned male who appeared to be in his early twenties faced the agents. He had a scarf wrapped around his head and face like he was from Iraq, with an image of the Cuban revolutionary Che on his T-shirt. He reeked of marijuana like he had bathed in it.
“Are you gentlemen here to serve an indictment against Mr. Minister?” he asked, crossing his muscular arms over his chest and leaning against the doorway.
“No, we’re not. We just need to ask him a few questions,” McCarthy announced.
“Questions?” He boldly sized the detectives up, first giving McCarthy the once-over, then doing the same with Reddick. “And you guys say you the feds? What type of questions the feds need to ask Mr. Minister?”
Reddick flashed his badge. His frustration got the best of him. He spoke out of emotion. “Look, we just need to speak to Prime—Mr. Minister—for a few minutes, and we’ll be out of you guys’ way, and you can get back to doing whatever illegal activities you were doing prior to us popping up.”
The young man chuckled. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
McCarthy intervened. “No problem at all,” he replied to the young man, right before turning to Reddick. “Listen, I’m lead on this, let me handle this. No matter the circumstances, let’s respect their home.”
The words McCarthy delivered to him were hard pills for Reddick to swallow. He didn’t like to be checked or told what to do, even if it was his superior; and that’s what it felt like McCarthy was doing to him. But he respected McCarthy, both as an agent and a man, and he was able to see the bigger picture. He knew McCarthy was right. He nodded to McCarthy and then turned to the young man. “My apologies. There was no disrespect intended,” Reddick rendered.
The young man nodded then spun around and shouted at the top of his lungs, “The feds are here to just ask a few questions.”
Prime came swaggering into view. He had on a dingy wife beater, baggy jeans, and fuzzy red slippers. His beard was scruffy and rough. He had mean, hard eyes that were boring into the agents. He had a bottle of Belaire Rose in his right hand.
Reddick and McCarthy looked at each other. They both had the same feeling once they laid eyes on Prime.
“Mr. Minister,” McCarthy began, “we’re trying to gather some information on a”—McCarthy deferred to his phone as if he didn’t have the names embedded in his head already—“Mr. Christian Reeves and a Mr. Sean Wesson.” He locked eyes with Prime.
“I don’t know what type of information you’re looking for, but it has nothing to do with me because I’ve never heard those names in my life,” Prime answered. And that was the truth. He hadn’t known the two names mentioned.
McCarthy did the best he could to hide his look of shock. He was skillfully trained to detect whether a person was lying in certain instances, and Prime had passed. It doesn’t make sense.
“Are we done, gentlemen?” Prime calmly asked. He could see the look of defeat on the agents’ faces. Reddick’s was more obvious than McCarthy’s, but it was there nonetheless.
Reddick peered over at McCarthy. McCarthy felt like a fool as it came to him like a thief in the night. He chuckled to himself. Idiot. “My apology,” McCarthy replied.
“No problem. You gentlemen have a good day.” Prime flashed a phony smile.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t apologizing for my question. I was apologizing for the delay and the misunderstanding of it. What I meant to say was we’re gathering information on Smoke and Clips,” McCarthy said all in one breath. Before he even mentioned Clips’s name he already had a strong idea of what Prime’s response would be.
“My answer is the same. I’ve never heard those names in my life,” Prime repeated. Only this time it was abrupt and his words came out a little choppy. “Whatever information you’re looking for, I can’t help you. Sorry,” he added. “Is that all?” Prime asked for the second time.
“Actually, no,” McCarthy shot back. “I have a couple more questions, if you don’t mind.”
Prime chuckled. “Okay, gentlemen. Here’s the deal. I’ll be glad to answer any questions just as soon as I contact my attorney, Mr. Dom Cochran.”
“Damn, everybody around here is so damn polite,” Reddick sarcastically remarked.
“You gentlemen have a good day,” Prime ended. “Mu, see these men out for me please.”
Once again, Reddick was pissed and felt defeated while McCarthy remained calm. Prime had reacted just enough for him to determine that he was lying. There was no doubt in his mind that Prime knew more than he was telling. He just had to figure out a way to find out more. On the way out, he pulled out his cell phone and texted Monica again.
Chapter 24
Glasses clinked together while liquor bottles popped as Starr ended her toast. She silenced the crowd of Double Gs so she could move forward with the ceremony of their newest soon-to-be member, Lacey. Diamond stood alongside Lacey, since she was the one who had recruited her, while Bubbles, Glitter, and Sparkle were just feet away from Starr. Double Gs filled the room with bold, bodacious, beautiful, and intelligent women. They were wall to wall and lit, Double Gs style.
Monica sat at a safe distance at the bar on full alert as she sipped on a Long Island Iced Tea. She watched and listened from afar as Starr prepared to swear Lacey in.
“Lacey, place your right hand on your chest, listen, and repeat after me,” Starr instructed. The secret location was filled with serious and stone-faced Double Gs who were attentive to Starr’s words.
Lacey knew there was no turning back after this. She inhaled and then exhaled as Starr began.
“I am confident, I am bold, and I am beautiful. I am big both in heart and in flesh, and I am who I am because God designed me this way. I am a woman who makes no excuses for who and what I am and I refuse to let anyone pass judgment. Most importantly, I refuse to be oppressed by any living man and will stop at nothing to ensure that neither myself nor my sisters will ever be.”
Lacey recited each line Starr delivered.
“No man shall ever or any longer degrade me, belittle me, or disrespect me, nor shall they lay a hand on me in any form or fashion with or without my consent. I am a Double G, which means I am double the trouble and I am a Gangsta Girl. I swear that if another violates or crosses me or my family, the consequences and penalties shall be severe. Double Gs is not a gang; it is a way of life. A life I pledge to live until I breathe my last breath!”
Once Starr had ended the Double Gs initiation pledge, Lacey stood in awe. She had never felt more alive in her life. A sense of belonging filled her body as she repeated Starr. She knew she had made the right choice.
“Do you accept this pledge?” Starr asked.
“I do,” Lacey replied strongly.
Starr nodded. “Good. Welcome to the Double Gs family.”
Diamond was the first to offer a welcoming hug. It was a happy and proud moment for Lacey. “Thanks, sis,” she thanked Diamond.
The Double Gs women standing all around delivered a thunderous round of applause. Starr pumped her fist in the air and shouted, “Double Gs for life!”
As if on cue, the entire club followed suit and soon began to chant, “Double Gs for life.”
“Double Gs for life,” Lacey joined in as she was welcomed into the Double Gs organization.
“Double Gs for life,” Monica cooed. But she wasn’t sure just how long she had before that was no longer the case. McCarthy had spooked her, but it didn’t seem as if there was anything out of the ordinary. Still, she remained on point.
Now that the ceremony was over, the night broke out into a full-blown party. The deejay threw on the infamous Baltimore Club mix, “Watch Out for the Big Girls,” and almost brought the building down. Nearly every Double G was on their feet rocking to the their anthem track. Even Monica couldn’t help dancing to the club banger from her stool. Little by little, she began to relax. I’m still a trained agent, she reasoned with herself. I would know if I were in imminent danger, she concluded.
Her mind began to drift, and she felt as if she were floating. A touch on the shoulder snapped Monica out of la-la land. When she turned and looked, she was surprised to see Starr standing there. She squinted to confirm that her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
“What brings you over here?” Monica asked. Her words came out a little slurred.
“You bring me over here. I came over here to see you.”
“Oh, really?” Monica replied with a partial smirk. She took a long gaze at Starr. The longer she stared, the more her vision blurred.
“Are you okay?” Starr put her hand on Monica’s shoulder again.
Monica’s body felt numb to her touch. She felt as if she were floating. Just holding her head up became a strenuous uphill battle. Starr held a very concerned look on her face.
“You don’t look too well. Let me get you outta here,” Starr stated.
“No, I’m fine,” Monica refused. She tipped over, heading for the floor. Before she could hit it, Starr caught her and stroked her hair. “I got you. I got you,” Starr repeated.
Starr winked at the bartender who, in return, gave a quick appreciative nod. She looped her arm around Monica’s waist and guided her away from the bar and out of the secret location.
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