“What’s up, mi rey?” Vanilla asked, affectionately calling him king in Spanish.
“Yo, go call Jersey Ali on his phone and see what the fuck is taking so long. He got my brother waiting here with a hard dick.”
Eager to please, she replied, “That’s no problem. I can get any of the girls to take care of that, with pleasure I’m sure.”
Reece dismissed her. “Yeah, yeah, just do what I told you to!”
Not needing a second command, Vanilla peeled out. Minutes later, she came running back about to fall.
“King Reece, King Reece, you better come look at this!!”
“Now what?! Gotdamn, it’s always something,” Reece swore as he got up from his lounge chair and followed Vanilla inside, with Qwess right behind him.
Once inside, he followed her to his bank of televisions located in one of his dens, where all of the TVs were broadcasting the same thing. Reece almost lost it when he realized what he was seeing.
There was a special report on television about a high-speed chase and subsequent shooting. Reporters were on the scene live. In the background Reece could make out Jersey Ali’s Maserati, which resembled a cheese grater. The reporter was saying that the police attempted to pull the car over in a “high-crime” area when the car stopped to simulate a traffic stop. Then the driver got out firing a high-caliber pistol at the officers. A chase ensued, and when police set up a roadblock, the subject attempted to run through it. The officers had no choice but to open fire.
When the reporter finished her spiel, an officer in charge on the scene came up next. He indicated that another suspect was still being sought. Then he offered all types of rewards to induce lesser men to snitch. However, as Reece looked at the tube, he knew he didn’t have to worry about snitches. Everyone around knew Jersey Ali was Crescent Crew, and when you crossed the crew, the crew crossed you out.
It took a moment for Qwess and Reece to gain their composure. Jersey Ali was a lieutenant from the first regime, therefore close to Qwess as well as Reece. Vanilla sensed they wanted to be alone, but before she exited she made sure King Reece didn’t want anything. He didn’t, so she quietly excused herself.
Once they were alone, Qwess asked, “What’s on your mind, brother?” Reece didn’t say anything. “Do you want me to end the party, so you can handle things?”
Reece looked offended when he answered. “No, man. This is your welcome home party. Ain’t nothing gon’ stop you from having fun. Hell, that’s where Ali was supposed to be going.”
Qwess didn’t understand. “What you talking ’bout?”
“The broad. Ya know the broad from Atlanta, Innocence.”
“Innocence?” Qwess replied, shocked that he knew.
“Yeah, nigga!”
“How you know about her?”
Reece shot Qwess a look insinuating he really didn’t understand how much pull he possessed. “Come on, man. I own a strip club. Hello? Anyway, we had some bitches from Atlanta up here on some feature shit. She came up. Asked Vee about you. Vee told her about your party. She wanted to surprise you.”
Qwess didn’t hear anything after strip club. “Strip club? Nigga, when you started owning a strip club?”
“Oh, ya didn’t know? I see we got a lot to get caught up on,” Reece told him. “For now let’s get back to the party.”
“The party?”
“Yeah, the party.”
“What about Ali?”
Reece responded, the embodiment of control. “We’ll send the troops to check on that in the morning. It’s too hot now, and ain’t shit we can do about it with the fuckin’ rollerz everywhere.”
“Yo, man, you don’t seem like you care much.”
“Oh, I care,” Reece clarified. “But ain’t shit we can do about it right now. We can’t get that back. We all know the consequences of our acts. We can’t get yesterday back. Just like we can’t get tonight back, so let’s go party. I guess ole girl ain’t coming, so go ahead and do you.”
This was said with such finality that Qwess knew an argument was futile. The king had spoken. The subjects had to obey.
When Qwess and Reece rejoined the festivities, it was hard to tell tragedy had visited their doorstep. Flame and 8-Ball, acknowledging they were partying with sure ’nuff shot-callers, enjoyed every moment. 8-Ball was posted up by the grill getting his eat on, while cracking jokes with some ladies. Flame was talking to a chick probably old enough to be his mother. The way he was spitting in her ear, you’d think it was his inauguration speech.
Hulk and Samson were taking turns throwing naked women into the main pool with the crown embossed “R” on its floor. While Born frolicked in the smaller pool, Chocolate massaged his shoulders. Muhammad sat in the Jacuzzi getting fed grapes by a bevy of beautiful women.
Qwess didn’t want to interrupt the mood. His young guns were having so much fun. They had definitely earned it after the strenuous tour. In addition, he also wanted Flame to be in the presence of real gangstas so he would know the penny-ante shit he was into wasn’t worth it. He wanted him to be in the presence of some real soldiers dedicated to a life of crime. When a person is around a more dominant person, you can feel their aura, their presence. It’s on the most primal level of all things living and breathing. Qwess knew Flame undoubtedly felt it, for Qwess felt it every time he was in the presence of his father.
Reece didn’t want to interrupt things because his crew, his family was reaping the benefits of “their life.” It felt good to see brothers he personally helped reach the next level have fun. Especially before a life was snatched before their eyes, like Jersey Ali’s. He was a good soldier. He would be missed.
Reece walked beside Qwess and sensed he was deep in thought as well. Reece could always tell when Qwess’s mind was heavy. After all, they were kindred spirits. So he offered Qwess an escape, to which he agreed, and they deftly exited the party heading for Reece’s theater.
Reece’s theater wasn’t the size of an actual movie theater. It only seated about thirty people. However, the screen was big enough to rival any theater’s in the world. As did the surround sound. The movie room was intended to be an escape. It served its purpose in spades.
Reece settled Qwess into a comfortable seat and exited to the control room. Moments later, the opening credits to Heat appeared on the massive screen. Reece returned with snacks, drinks, and his lion Divine in tow. He sat down next to Qwess with his lion’s head in his lap and a joint of hydro in his mouth. He now wore a robe covering his enormous jewels, which glistened under the lights when they peeked from under the robe.
“Aw, man! So much shit has happened since you’ve been gone . . .” Reece began, and with that he proceeded to fill Qwess in on the latest news.
An hour later, Doe joined in as Vanilla led him into the movie room.
“Vee, don’t let no one else in. This a family reunion of sorts.” Reece passed Doe a joint and continued where he left off. “Yeah, so after Ali blew the nigga brains out . . .”
Qwess was loving it and hating it at the same time. He loved the action. He loved the fact that his niggas were so thorough. He hated the fact that he couldn’t have been present. He hated the fact that other brothers had to die. Unlike Reece, prior to Shauntay, he had never had anyone close to him get murdered. Ever since that night, a part of him felt different about murder. Despite the fact that he had murdered on several occasions. Maybe he had accepted the record deal at the right time, because you can’t be in the streets straddling the fence. Also, music was his outlet for all the transgressions of the past built up inside of him. When he was controlling a crowd, nothing else mattered. It gave him a sense of power that nothing else could.
“Anyway, I’m glad that y’all back, man,” continued Reece.
“Now we can all ball out as a family. I mean the crew is family, but y’all are fam-lay.”
A phone rang, interrupting the flow of conversation. Reece reached into his robe pocket, pulling out a phone. “Yeah? Yeah, I saw
it on the news already.” Pause “No, I’m not going. Seriously.” Pause “A’ight. I’ll keep the phone with me.” Pause.
“A’ight. Bye.”
Reece slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“Who was that?” Qwess and Doe asked in unison.
“Destiny.”
“Where she at?” Doe asked.
“Wit’ her punk-ass uncle. They in Virginia at a conference.”
“What she talking ’bout? Ali?” Qwess asked.
“Yeah.”
“How she know about that if she in VA?” Qwess wondered, confused.
Reece shrugged. “The TV, I guess.”
“What y’all talking ’bout? What about Ali? Hell, which Ali?” Doe asked.
For an answer, Reece hit a button on a remote, and the screen no longer showed the movie. Instead a live feed of the news replaced it. Reporters were still on the scene, and Jersey Ali’s bullet-riddled whip was still in the background.
“Gotdamn!” Doe exclaimed. “What the fuck happened?”
The news reporter answered for him.
. . . Once again, the driver who has been confirmed dead is believed to be part of a drug ring called the Crescent Crew. Authorities say they’ve been after him for a while. It’s believed the suspect was responsible for a huge influx of drugs in the area—
Reece shut the news off and returned to the movie. No one said anything for a long time. Doe didn’t know what to say. He knew Jersey Ali, but not to the extent Qwess did, because Doe had never been in the street like that. Therefore it didn’t hit him as hard.
Finally, Reece spoke, as much as to himself as anyone else. “Yeah we’ll go down tomorrow. See what happened. If any foul shit went down, we gon’ flush it. My man not gon’ get buried with any debts left unpaid.” Reece pulled deeply on the blunt before continuing. “That includes cops, too.”
On the screen, bank robbers were shooting it out with the police and winning. Reece turned the volume on the surround sound up to maximum power. The powerful speakers made the room echo every time one of the bank robbers on screen released a volley of rounds from an automatic rifle. A cop went down with a shot to the face, blood squirting from the wound.
Fuming, looking at the screen, Reece formed an idea in his mind. Slowly but surely his scowl turned into a smile. He started chuckling. Then laughing. Doe and Qwess both looked at Reece, dumbfounded.
Reece kept cackling, while stroking his lion’s fur.
* * *
True to his word, the next morning Reece informed a hungover Crescent Crew about the previous night’s events. Then he dispatched a fact-finding squad to gather details. He wanted to know who was riding with Jersey Ali, the name of the officer who initially initiated the traffic stop, and how heavy the police presence was at this moment. King Reece was on edge until his results came back. He knew it would be no problem finding out who was riding with Ali. It had to be a Crescent Crew member or affiliate. Crew members didn’t ride around with off brands.
While waiting on his crew to get back, Reece contacted Jersey Ali’s parents in New Jersey. They no doubt wanted him buried in New Jersey. Reece had to make arrangements through his funeral home as well as the airport. Oh, yeah! He was definitely going to the funeral. Plus he had to make sure Ali’s people were straight. All crew members made a vow coming in that if just one of them was rich, then none of them would be broke. Each one would be the other’s crutches. Being that all members should at least be hood rich by now, and Reece was NBA rich, Ali’s people should want for nothing. The Crescent Crew was playing with digits like toll-free numbers.
The fact-finding squad returned to the mansion at a little after two with everything Reece wanted to know. Reece had a lot of plans and a little time, so he wasted none. He mounted up a convoy and headed to Fayettenam.
Murchison Road was packed for a Monday, but all action ceased when the convoy that contained two black Range Rovers with a white Bentley sandwiched between them crept up. King Reece was solo in the back seat of the Bentley, but no one knew that, since the heavily tinted windows were airtight.
When the convoy stopped in front of a popular pool hall, word quickly spread that King Reece was in town. Everyone knew of him. No one knew him. However, everyone knew who he was here for, so in a matter of minutes Bone appeared.
King Reece rolled the window down just enough for his sinewy arm to stick out. It seemed everyone on the block saw his slender finger beckon Bone to enter the car. Of course Bone did so. He was duly impressed, too. He had never been inside of a Bentley before. The British car was something to behold.
The convoy pulled off, and for a while Reece said nada. He used the silence to intimidate Bone. He already looked menacing with his long locks hanging in his face, not to mention the mere presence of his three-hundred-pound chauffeur. Coupled with his reputation, the most thorough dude would be a little unnerved. However, Bone kept his cool.
When King Reece finally spoke, it was so low Bone had to strain to hear, even inside the tomblike confines of the Bentley.
“So you were with Jersey Ali last night, huh?” Questioned Reece.
“Yeah.” Real strong. Real firm.
“So, what happened?”
Bone related the story piece by piece, leaving nothing out. Then he added, “The rollerz murdered him, though.”
Reece had already surmised as much, so he was glad to hear this. It played right in with his plan. So he prodded Bone on. “How you figure?”
“’Cause I saw when the car came back to the intersection. Dude had stopped the car. They ain’t even give him a chance to get out. They just shot the car up.”
King Reece took it all in. “How you feel about it?”
“Shit. I feel fucked up!”
“Good. ’Cause you should. That was your fuckin’ brother! Our fucking brother. You smoke?” Reece asked pulling out a joint.
“Yeah.”
Reece passed him the joint. Then he started putting his plan in motion.
“Yo, Jersey Ali told me about the work you been putting in. Said you was a real good soldier. Loyal, too.” Bone nodded his head. Reece continued. “So, what you was working with? Don’t answer that,” he quickly corrected. “You owe anything out? Answer that.”
“Yeah, I owe . . .”
“Don’t tell me how much. I just wanted to know if you owe. Obviously you do.” Reece paused for effect. He cracked the window to let the smoke out. Then he pulled his locks out of his face so Bone could see his eyes clearly.
“Listen up. Jersey Ali was a soldier. He can’t be replaced. But his death left a void that needs to be filled. Now I’ve heard only good things about you. You know the area, but more importantly the area knows you. I want you to fill this spot. It’s a no-brainer, really. However, you got to have heart to be a Crescent Crew captain. You got heart?”
Bone couldn’t believe his luck! He hadn’t been out of the bing a year, and here he was ’bout to get blessed by the man himself. “Hell yeah, I got heart!” Bone exploded, almost too anxiously.
King Reece eyed him suspiciously. “Oh, yeah?” he asked.
“Most definitely.”
“All right, we gon’ see.” Reece nodded. “I got a job for you. Sort of a ‘paying your dues’ type thing. You do this and you get Ali’s spot. You get hit with what he was getting hit with. This job will show you can handle what it takes to be a captain. Hell, you’ll be rich in no time.”
Bone was loving what King Reece was spitting. Shit, he didn’t care if he had to kill the president to get the spot. He wanted the type of paper Ali was folding. And wasn’t nothing going to stop him.
Bone picked his time and asked, “So, what’s the job? Whatever it is, it was done yesterday.”
King Reese liked that. Ambitious and ruthless. So he leaned over and whispered in Bone’s ear exactly what he wanted done. When, how, where, and who.
Bone couldn’t believe that was all he wanted done. Hell, he would’ve done that on the strength,
but he wasn’t about to tell Reece that. He just nodded acceptance instead.
That being that with that, King Reece two-wayed the lead truck in the convoy a message instructing him to return to the pool hall.
When they arrived at the pool hall, Reece told Bone, “By the way, whatever you owed, keep it. It’s yours. Consider it a prelude of things to come.”
With that, Bone exited the Bentley a new man. His step was unusually light. He had heard King Reece was just as generous as he was ruthless, but he always thought niggas was just blowing the nigga horn. Now he knew firsthand.
As the sun parted the clouds, Bone took it as an omen. It was definitely going to be a good winter.
Jersey Ali was buried on a Friday morning in Trenton, New Jersey. Various members of the Crescent Crew attended, including Qwess and Reece, with Destiny right by his side. East State Street was backed up with traffic as mourners braved the chilly air to pay last respects to a fallen comrade. Every car seemed to be playing the song “Thug Holiday” by Trick Daddy as it left the masjid en route to the burial ground. Only close family was permitted at the grave site to control the crowd.
As Jersey Ali was lowered in the ground, Reece sent a message on his two-way pager and waited for a response . . .
* * *
Back in Carolina, Bone tailed the recently promoted Sergeant Attucks in a nondescript car. Sergeant Attucks was in his POV. When Bone received the page on his two-way, he acted.
First, he passed Sergeant Attucks. Then he settled in front of him, slowing down gradually. He checked his rearview to see how many people were following on the two-lane highway. Not any close, which was good. Coming near a stop sign, he pulled his mask down over his face. He stopped at the stop sign and lingered long enough for Sergeant Attucks to draw right up to his bumper. Bone had been tailing him all morning, and it came down to this moment in time.
Street Rap Page 18