Street Rap

by Shaun Sinclair

  The female judge grudgingly announced Innocence as the winner. As did Maserati, but with hate, because he wasn’t the one sucking on the lollipop.

  Innocence collected her prize money and walked over to Qwess. “Thank you,” she said, slipping the money into his pocket.

  “What’s this for?” asked Qwess, referring to the money she had slipped in his pocket.

  “For you. I know time is money. I’m willing to pay for your time. You’re worth it.”

  Qwess kissed her on the cheek. He saw Maserati about to join his bulletproof-vest entourage. Qwess ran over to him and stopped him.

  “Yo, main man.” Maserati looked at him with obvious contempt.

  “Yeah?”

  Qwess stuck his hand out. “See you at the top.” Maserati didn’t shake it. Instead, he scowled and walked off. Qwess laughed and left to join his crew, but he etched the moment in his memory forever.

  Chapter 20

  Reece had never been in love. He had never paid attention to the way his father treated his mother, or vice versa. Therefore, he didn’t know how to reciprocate love, either. The only thing Reece knew about was controlling things. He had come from nothing to a big something by sheer cunning and calculation. After all, didn’t destiny bend to an indomitable will? And what was Reece’s will if not indomitable. He was the king of the Crescent Crew. He was used to people obeying him, no questions asked. He was used to crushing enemies underneath his designer footwear.

  Unfortunately, King Reece had never done battle with love. The love that empowers a woman, yet weakens a man. The love that is questionably the most powerful emotion known to mankind. So, when King Reece moved Destiny into his mansion and bought her a brand-new Mercedes, he did it for love. When King Reece started bringing Destiny along on his business trips with him, yep, that was for love, too. And when King Reece decided to take Destiny along with him to Mexico for the remainder of the year, of course, it was for love.

  Things were finally getting too hot for Reece. The police were closing in. They had been relentlessly pursuing him ever since the police sergeant was assassinated in his car. They couldn’t put him at the scene, but they knew he was responsible. The number of times the sergeant was shot indicated the hit was retaliation for Jersey Ali.

  When the autopsy was performed on Jersey Ali, the first thing the medical examiner had noted was the huge Crescent Crew tattoo sprawled across his shoulder blades. Upon further investigation, the police realized that the Crescent Crew tattoo signified Jersey Ali belonged to a gang that had expanded throughout the entire Carolinas. The gang was responsible for multiple homicides and tons of drugs in the last few years. The state bureau of investigations launched an all-out offensive with federal help. The feds later revealed that they had been after this particular crew for a while. Now, this “group of thugs” had agreed to work in a concerted effort to bring them down.

  King Reece had found out about the plan almost as soon as it left the chief’s mouth, which is why he was on the low lately. However, Reece could still feel them closing in.

  Never one to sit back and let life take its course, Reece devised a plan. His connect Manuelito had been trying to get Reece to come to Mexico for the longest. He offered to put Reece up in his own home and show him property that he would invest in for an eventual move to Mexico for when situations get rough. Mexico had a non-extradition clause, so as long as Reece was in Mexico, the feds couldn’t touch him. Manuelito had already heard stories of how treacherous Reece could be, so he had no doubt that Reece could handle himself well in Mexico.

  Sensing things had gotten bad, Reece decided to finally take Manuelito up on his offer. Not that he was running; Reece just realized that a vacation of sorts was necessary. He had made a shitload of money so far, and Samson proved more capable of taking care of the family for six months. Just six months. That presumably was all that was needed. He planned to start the New Year off on a good foot.

  Destiny was running late, which was usual. She had known about the trip for at least two weeks, and here she was still late packing. “A little more of this, a little more of that,” she said. Reece could only pace and look at his watch.

  Manuelito was sending his private jet from Mexico to retrieve Reece and Destiny. The jet was already waiting for them in a private hangar just outside the city. Samson was on his way to scoop them up and deliver them to the hangar. Destiny insisted on knowing where the hangar was located, like she didn’t trust him or something. “Ooh, the nerve!” She had been on the phone with her uncle all morning. Reece was really getting tired of the fucker.

  Reece checked and double-checked everything when he saw Samson’s truck at the front gate. He had everything he needed. He only wished he could see Qwess before he departed for Mexico. That wasn’t possible because Qwess was spending the day in the Virginia hills visiting his father in the federal penitentiary. Oh, well, Qwess was getting money now. Maybe when Reece copped him a nice villa in Mexico, he could invite him down to spend a few weeks.

  Destiny was finally ready to go, just as Samson rang the doorbell. Reece answered the door, and Samson greeted him with a bear hug.

  “You ready, God?” Samson said.

  “Yeah. Soon as Des come down. Yo, baby, let’s go!” Reece yelled. Destiny trotted down the stairs, bags in tow. Samson grabbed them and took them out to the truck.

  “Damn, girl. You got a body in here or something?” he joked. Destiny didn’t respond. She had seemed rather distant all morning. Reece chalked it up to the argument they had had last night.

  Right when they went to bed to prepare for the day’s journey ahead, Destiny decided to discuss Reece’s “business.” She even called him a murderer when he told her he didn’t want to talk about it. In the end, Reece conceded and they spent the entire night talking. Destiny said something Reece had never heard her say, and she kept repeatedly stressing that she loved him, no matter what. They went to sleep a little less confused, but Destiny was still visibly upset when they awoke. Reece reasoned that once she saw the splendid Mexican sun, she’d lighten up.

  They all loaded into the vehicle and began the journey to the hangar. During the ride, Reece took the time to cross all the T’s and dot the I’s. Samson nodded his agreement. He seemed to have everything under control.

  When they arrived at the hangar, the gate was locked. The black Gulfstream jet idled on the tarmac resembling a giant bird. The steps were down awaiting its passengers. Other than the jet, the tarmac was empty.

  They waited impatiently for the gate to open. After a short time, a man appeared wearing a dark windbreaker. He slowly slid the gate open, talking into his walkie-talkie.

  Just as the truck rolled through the gates, sirens barked in the distance.

  “What the fuck?!” Reece frowned. He peeped back and spotted red and blue lights flashing profusely, headed straight in their direction at full speed. He looked to the plane and saw the pilot and crew members crowd the doorway of the plane. They waved for Reece to come on.

  Right away, Reece knew the plane was safe. If he could make it to the plane, he was home free. He knew Manuelito’s men would not be apprehended at any cost. The plane’s engine roared to life.

  “Samson, you strapped?” Reece asked.

  “Ya know it.” He pulled out two Dessert Eagle pistols, passing Reece one.

  “Get the bags on the plane. I’ll lock the gate!” Reece commanded. Samson gathered the bags in one swoop and exited the vehicle.

  When Samson exited the truck, the man who had opened the gate pointed a pistol at him. His windbreaker had FBI tags sticking out everywhere. Samson froze. The bags tied up both his hands, so he was defenseless.

  “Drop the bags and put your hands up!” the agent ordered. In that split second, Reece acted. He popped out the passenger door with gun in hand.

  “Noooo!!!” Destiny screamed, but it was too late. Reece fired two shots straight to the head. It exploded like a melon. Reece ran around and locked the gate, while
Samson shot toward the plane with the bags.

  Destiny sat in the back seat shivering.

  “Come on, baby! We gotta roll!” Reece screamed. The feds were less than a hundred yards away. “Come on, baby! Come on!”

  Destiny did not move.

  Samson came back and grabbed Reece’s arm. “Come on, God! We can’t wait. We gotta move now. The plane is ready. She’ll be all right.”

  Reece tried one last time to get Destiny to move, but she wouldn’t move. Reece bolted in the direction of the plane. He was halfway there when Destiny screamed his name.

  “Reece!”

  Reece turned to look, and Destiny was standing in the middle of the tarmac with a Glock aimed right at him. “What the fuck you doing, girl?! Now ain’t the time for games. We gotta go!”

  “Reeeece,” Destiny chanted. “You are under arrest!”

  “What? Quit fucking playing. We gotta go.” The feds had finally made it to the gate. “Fuck it, I’m gone!!”

  Reece ran toward the plane, where Samson was waiting in the doorway waving him in. Reece had never run so fast in his life. He could feel his legs pumping like pistons. He was ten feet from the plane when he felt his left leg go numb. Simultaneously, he looked down and saw blood burst from the front of his thigh. Someone had shot him. He fell to the pavement in agony.

  “Arrgh!!” he cried out. He knew instantly he wasn’t going to make it to the plane, so he waved it off. The pilot wasted no time taxiing down the short runway, and took off.

  Reece rolled over on his stomach in the direction from which the shots had come. His pistol was aimed right where he looked. Right into the eyes of Destiny, where she was crouched into a shooting position, gun still smoking. For an instant, everything else was blocked out. The cops entering the gate. The excruciating pain in his leg. Even the bitter taste of betrayal.

  All that remained was a stare-off between Destiny and Reece. He looked into her beautiful hazel eyes. All he had to do was pull the trigger, and her life would be extinguished. All he had to do was pull the trigger, and retribution would be exacted for the ultimate betrayal. A cop! A fuckin’ cop!!?

  Destiny looked into Reece’s opaque eyes. All she had to do was pull the trigger, and she would put an end to the killing, the drug dealing. How could one person be so full of love, yet so cruel like Reece? All she had to do was pull the trigger and exact justice for so many mothers. She had been with him for over a year, she knew firsthand the evil that lurked behind those dead eyes. All she had to do was pull the trigger . . .

  But she couldn’t.

  She really loved him.

  As Reece did her.

  Therefore, there were no more eruptions of gunfire. When the police ran past Destiny to apprehend Reece, he gave up without a fight. They kicked him a little bit, but he was oblivious to that. The whole time they cuffed him and Mirandized him, his eyes never left Destiny, who had yet to move from her crouching stance.

  When they escorted him out the gate past Destiny after receiving medical attention, a wheezing sound was emitted from his throat like a wounded animal. They carried Reece to a tinted Suburban and waited on a Lieutenant Harris.

  Reece sat in the back of the truck foaming at the mouth. All of a sudden, the door was snatched open and Reece was face-to-face with a man he knew well. The tag on his chest read “Lieutenant Harris,” but Reece knew him as Uncle Lou.

  The plot thickened.

  Chapter 21

  Reece was on his way to the courthouse. He was glad to be out on bail, albeit on the day trial was to start. That was okay, though. At least he got to eat a decent meal, and feel the comfort of a big bed. He actually couldn’t see himself willingly coming to court to face so-called justice. He knew they were going to railroad him if he gave them a chance, especially with his charges. He was charged with murdering a federal officer, operating a continual criminal enterprise, and they had hit him with the RICO act: Racketeering Influenced Corrupt Organization. A New York case in fucking Carolina! That was proof in itself that they were going to try to hang him out to dry.

  Try, because Reece had plans of his own. He was already out on a million-dollar bail, which was unheard of for these types of charges. It was proof that the system was able to be manipulated. Hell, if they knew the type of paper Reece had, the judge would’ve asked for a two-million-dollar kickback, rather than one million for granting him bail. Reece would’ve willingly paid it, for he had to be out to execute his plan.

  Kidnapping the juror’s daughter was easy. As soon as the jury was selected, Reece scoped them out to see which one was vulnerable. He had someone research their files, gathering all the information possible. Then, he put his plan in motion.

  Reece knew that from the moment he set foot out of jail, feds were going to be trailing him. They wanted him to run so they could kill him. They had been trying to provoke him the entire time he was in custody. Sending lesser men to eavesdrop, or trick information out of him. Picture that! Reece was a soldier, and soldiers hold strong . . . to the end.

  By them trailing him, it created the perfect decoy. He would keep the feds occupied while some members of the crew kidnapped the little girl.

  Oh, the crew was still intact. Reece was still de facto boss, and Samson was still in charge. Only thing was, Samson was exiled in Mexico. He had not returned to the States since the day he had fled on the plane when Reece was shot. No one was stupid. They knew if Samson touched U.S. soil, he would be put in a box. Either a wooden one, or a cement one. That would be detrimental to the crew. So he remained in Mexico running the Crescent Crew with an iron fist.

  In the States, Born’s word was law. He would send an emissary to the county jail to speak to Reece to figure out his plans. At first, Reece told them to stand down. It was too much heat. He knew the feds were looking to bust one or more of the members so they could roll them and make them testify against him. Then, when he realized the demand for product, he gave the order to continue business with one additional rule: Death Before Dishonor, which was needless to say.

  During Reece’s first two weeks in captivity, the feds tried desperately to debrief him. They wanted contacts, sources, the whole shebang, in exchange for thirty years. Reece just ice-grilled them the entire time. His mind was on Destiny.

  Turned out Destiny was an FBI agent sent specifically to bring down Reece. The feds were on to Reece when he was a $60,000-a-week peon. They targeted him because he had a penchant for violence. They wanted him off the streets quickly. However, he was always too smart. Always one step ahead of them. They could never catch him with anything or find anyone willing to cooperate. They knew from investigating him, he had a weak dick. He was a sucker for a new piece of pussy. So they brought an agent from out of state to set him up. He took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker.

  That day at the restaurant, Destiny had been watching Reece, waiting for the right time. Reece made it easy when he ran into her, causing her to drop her purse. When he stared in her eyes, as he assisted her in picking up the spilled contents, she knew she had him.

  Reece hadn’t seen her since the day she shot him. If he had known she was going to disappear, he would’ve shot her. He had all of his people combing the streets looking for her. There wasn’t a sign of her anywhere. Even in his motion of discovery, she wasn’t scheduled to testify. She was only identified as agent 0919. That was okay with Reece. After he beat these charges, he was going to hunt her down, cut her heart out, and feed it to her.

  Hulk pulled into the courthouse on Hattesburg Road in Raleigh, North Carolina. According to his watch, they were running a little late. Reece kept prompting him to speed up from the back seat, but the numerous news crews camped out in front of the courthouse prevented him from going any faster. Reece’s lawyer, Malik Shabazz, had called three times already in the past hour.

  Malik Shabazz was a tall, light-skinned brother who had been preaching law for twenty years as a criminal attorney. He was known coast to coast for being the go-to man when you
r back was against the wall and big bank bulged from your pockets. He had never lost a drug case, and despite the odds stacked against him, he didn’t plan on losing this one, either.

  After realizing the truck couldn’t get them any closer to the courthouse quicker, Reece jumped out with Born, Muhammad, and Power on his heels. He headed up the steps of the courthouse and was met with a barrage of flashes.

  “Mr. Kirkson, Mr. Kirkson! Is it true you executed a federal officer in broad daylight . . .”

  “Mr. Kirkson! What do you say of the allegations that you headed a criminal enterprise . . .”

  The reporters had questions for days. Reece’s entourage just pushed on past. They were headed to the main courtroom upstairs. When they exited the elevator, Qwess and Doe awaited them. They already knew Qwess and Doe were there because they had seen Qwess’s Lambo parked outside.

  Qwess had gone through a lot to be present. He was in the studio working on Flame’s album and tweaking his own new album. The trial was tentatively expected to last weeks. Qwess made an oath to be there as much as possible.

  They all linked up and entered the courtroom. They were met by more cameras and noted a gallery full of spectators. Everyone took a seat when the judge banged his gavel, except Reece, who went to greet his lawyer.

  “Boy, you had me worried for a second,” Mr. Shabazz told Reece. Reece cracked a retort and smiled. He and his lawyer were dressed similarly in tailor-made Italian suits, except where Mr. Shabazz accented his dark suit with a maroon tie, Reece wore a bright burnt orange. Instead of black Stacy Adams, Reece wore ostrich-skinned boots the color of his suit.

  Reece took his seat at the defense table. The judge banged his gavel again, opening up court. Prosecutor Long stepped up to deliver his opening argument.