by K'wan
Li’l Monk nodded.
“Ramses, if you didn’t call us down here to talk about what happened between Chucky and Li’l Monk, what’s this all about?” Omega asked.
“Murder,” Huck answered for him.
As if on cue, Chucky came walking into the restaurant.
“So I gotta leave you a hundred voice mail messages to get you to answer my summons?” Ramses asked him.
“My fault, Ramses. My phone was dead so I didn’t get the messages until late,” Chucky lied.
“Seems like your phone is always conveniently dead when something bad happens,” Ramses said in an accusatory tone. “You’re slipping, Chucky, and I don’t like it. Sit down over there with the rest of the little boys.” He motioned to the empty seat next to Omega.
Chucky looked at Li’l Monk, who was glaring at him scornfully. It was starting to make sense why Ramses had called him down there. “You couldn’t wait to run down here and snitch on me, huh, bitch nigga?”
“Fuck you, Chucky.” Li’l Monk got to his feet. “I don’t need Ramses to handle my problems. I can deal with you myself.”
“Then let’s get it on, pussy,” Chucky challenged.
“If the both of you don’t sit down and be quiet, I’m gonna have Huck put a bullet in both of you, then me and him are gonna walk out of here like nothing ever happened. The waitress is going to swear up and down it was Omega who killed you.”
Li’l Monk and Chucky glared at each other for a few seconds more before doing as they were told.
“Though I’m disappointed in you two for making public spectacles of yourselves, that ain’t what this is about,” Ramses informed Chucky. “Where did you go after you left the club?”
“Huh?” The question caught Chucky off-guard.
“If you can ‘huh’ you can hear. Where did you go after you left the club?” Ramses repeated the question.
“I don’t know, bent a few corners then went back to my crib with this shorty,” Chucky said.
“Who? Which shorty?” Ramses pressed.
“Ramses, with all due respect, I don’t think who I fuck is anybody at this table’s business,” Chucky said coolly. He wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but he wasn’t ready for Ramses to find out about his secret little lover yet.
Without warning, Ramses leapt across the table and grabbed Chucky by the front of his shirt. He snatched a steak knife from the table and pressed the blade to Chucky’s throat. “It becomes my business when one of my oldest and dearest friends is found dead and my lieutenant is the only one with a motive.”
“What? Wait, I ain’t killed nobody. What are you talking about?” Chucky asked in shock.
“They found Boo’s body this morning. Somebody left him stinking in the park near his house,” Ramses told him, still holding the knife to his throat. The other people in the restaurant continued eating their meals as if there weren’t a man’s life being threatened a few feet away. It was as if Ramses’s table was invisible.
“And you think it was me? I would never!”
“Bullshit.” Ramses pressed the knife deeper. “You think I didn’t see how you were looking at Boo after he roughed you up back at the apartment? I know you, Chucky, and I know when you got it in your mind to do something to somebody.”
“Ramses, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about blowing Boo’s head off when he put his hands on me, but thinking it and going through with it are two different things. Boo has been with you since the beginning, I know he’s got status. Raising my hand to him would’ve been a death sentence. Maybe one of his enemies got at him,” Chucky suggested.
“Boo has been retired for years, all of his enemies are dead. Everybody in the neighborhood where he was found knew Boo was a made man and what I would have done to them if they so much as looked at him wrong. The only people who could’ve hated him enough to openly defy me were you and Benny and I think we all know it wasn’t Benny,” Ramses said.
“Ramses, I swear, I didn’t touch Boo. I was with a bitch last night,” Chucky swore up and down.
“Then let the bitch verify your whereabouts. Give me a name!” Ramses ordered.
Chucky found himself once again stuck between a rock and a hard place. Ramses had been adamant about him not dealing with Persia, not only because of her ties to Face and Chucky’s history with that family, but because of her age and the kind of problems him sleeping with a minor could bring. There was no telling how he would react if he found out that not only had he pursued her anyway, but was fucking her. Still, if he refused to account for his whereabouts there was no doubt in his mind that Ramses was going to kill him.
“Yvette,” Chucky blurted out. “I was with Yvette last night.” He wasn’t sure why he had picked her name of all people, other than she was the first person who came to mind.
“You lying to me, boy?” Ramses asked suspiciously.
“On my life, Ramses, I was with Yvette!” Chucky kept the lie going.
Ramses eased the blade away from Chucky’s throat and returned to his seat. “We’ll see. Go check it out,” he told Huck. Huck excused himself from the table and went to make a phone call. “Chucky, I trust I don’t have to tell you what’s gonna happen if I find out you’re lying to me.”
“I ain’t lying, Ramses,” Chucky said, but his voice sounded unsure. Waiting for Huck to come back was the longest five minutes of his life. The whole time Ramses just sat across the table, glaring at him. Having his whereabouts verified while he was still sitting there was an unexpected turn of events. He hadn’t even had a chance to prep Yvette for the lie, and after the way he slapped her around the day before, there was no telling what she was going to say to Huck on the phone. He looked over at Li’l Monk and Omega. Omega kept his eyes on the table, but Li’l Monk was looking directly at Chucky. When they made eye contact, Li’l Monk smirked, letting him know he was happy at Chucky’s misfortune. If Chucky was able to worm his way out of this one, his first order of business would be getting rid of Li’l Monk.
When Huck came back, his face was sour, which made Chucky nervous. He whispered something in Ramses’s ear, at which he just nodded. “Good looking out. You can wait for me outside. This won’t take but a minute.”
On Huck’s way out he gave Chucky a look that chilled him to his core.
“Seems like your story checks out,” Ramses said, to Chucky’s relief. “Let Yvette tell it you were in there getting nasty with her until sometime this morning.”
“I told you,” Chucky said. He thanked the Lord, Jah, and Buddha all for Yvette and promised himself that he would do something nice for her.
“That still don’t change the fact that my friend is dead and something has to be done about it,” Ramses said.
“Whatever you need, just say the word and I’m on it,” Chucky promised.
Ramses ignored him and addressed Li’l Monk and Omega. “I want y’all to get in them streets and put your ears to the ground. Drop word that Pharaoh would look favorably to anybody who can provide us with any helpful information about what happened to my friend.”
“We on it,” Li’l Monk told him, standing to leave. Omega did the same.
“One more thing.” Ramses stopped them. “Any man in my organization who can give me closure on this can write his own ticket. You little niggas wanna move up in the organization? Bring me my pound of flesh.”
Li’l Monk stared at him. The hurt in his eyes was evident. This was personal to him. “We got you.”
“Word up, Ramses; we gonna put every nigga we got on the streets to crack this case,” Chucky said before standing to leave.
“Stick around, Chucky. I need to holla at you for a minute. You two can go,” Ramses told Li’l Monk and Omega. When they’d gone he turned his attention back to Chucky. “What’s up?”
Chucky didn’t understand. “I don’t know, you said you wanted to talk to me.”
“I mean what’s up with you?” Ramses clarified. “Your behavior lately has been real s
uspect and I’m wondering if maybe there’s something you feel like you wanna share with me?
Chucky fidgeted uneasily in his chair. “Nah, everything is good.”
Ramses leaned in closer. “You sure? I’ve noticed you and that broad Yvette have been spending quite a bit of time together. I know she’s a great piece of ass, because I’ve had it, but she’s still an addict. I know Yvette keeps our drugs at her pad from time to time, but you’re management and don’t touch product anymore. So, I’ve been asking myself, what you two got cooking that requires you to spend so much time with her?”
Chucky shrugged. “If you’ve had her already, you know nobody in Harlem sucks dick like Yvette. Besides, her crib is in the middle of the hood so it allows me to keep an eye on things for you.”
Ramses reached across the table and took Chucky’s hand in his. “You know, even though I frown on my people doing more than weed, I understand the stress of the streets can drive a man to unusual vices to cope. If someone who I considered family were to come to me and ask for help in a time of weakness, I wouldn’t judge them. We’d work it out, so long as they came to me and were honest. An honest man I can forgive, but a liar I cannot. With that being said, I’m going to ask you for the very last time, is there something you need to tell me?”
Part of Chucky wanted to break down and confess it all to his mentor. He wanted to tell him about his problems with Wolf, addiction, and his role in what had happened to Benny. He wanted to cleanse his soul and beg forgiveness, but he’d known Ramses long enough to know that for as sincere as his words may have sounded he was not a forgiving man, so he lied. “Ramses, I don’t fuck with nothing heavier than weed and I might pop a pill or two here and there, but I don’t fuck with nothing harder than that.”
Ramses looked almost disappointed with his answer. “Okay, Chucky.” He patted his hand.
“You need anything else?” Chucky asked, letting him know he was ready to leave.
“No, you can go.” Ramses dismissed him. He watched Chucky amble out of the restaurant like he didn’t have a care in the world, shaking his head. He had high hopes for Chucky, but lately had been wondering if he had gambled on the wrong horse. Time would tell. His phone jingled on the table next to him. Ramses didn’t recognized the number, but he answered anyway. By the time he was done on the phone he found his already-dark mood had become even darker.
Chucky felt like his legs were going to give out on him when he came out of the restaurant. When Chucky got outside, he found Huck sitting on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette. He was staring daggers at Chucky, and smirking as if he knew something no one else did. Chucky had never been cool with Boo, but he and Huck had always been cool enough. Apparently things had changed.
“How come you looking at me like that?” Chucky asked.
“Because I’ve never seen a snake walk on two legs.” Huck flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and got off the car. “You’re a cold piece of work, boy.”
“What you talking about, Huck?” Chucky faked ignorance.
“Cut that con-man shit out. It might work with Ramses, but I’m bullshit proof.” Huck sneered. “I’ve always known you were a dirty nigga, Chucky, but over the past two days I’ve really gotten a chance to see that you ain’t just dirty, you foul. First you sell your boy down the river to save your ass, then you kill my best friend.”
“I didn’t kill Boo. Yvette told you out of her own mouth that I was with her,” Chucky countered.
“A junkie will say whatever they gotta say for a hit, you should know that better than anyone else.” Huck gave him a knowing look. “I know you killed Boo, or had it done, and soon Ramses will know it too and finally see you for the treacherous little bastard you are. When that time comes, and he gives the word to put your lights out, it’s gonna be me who flips the switch.” He patted his jacket pocket.
“You’re welcome to try,” Chucky capped, brushing past him to get to his car. He hopped behind the wheel and fired the engine. He looked out the window and saw that Huck was still watching him and smiling.
“See you soon, Chucky,” Huck called after him as Chucky’s car merged into traffic.
Chucky’s legs were still trembling long after he’d driven away from the restaurant. That was twice in less than a week he had almost found himself on the slab and he had no desire to test the “third time is the charm” myth.
When Ramses had called him down to the restaurant, he had an idea what it was about. He planned to come down, receive the heartbreaking news of Boo’s death, and be there for his mentor as he mourned the loss of his friend. Him being a suspect was something he hadn’t expected, but he should have.
Ramses was right; Chucky did hate Boo enough to kill him, which was why he did it. Boo had always been on Chucky’s shit list, but because of his connection to Ramses he would never go at him. When he put his hand on Chucky all bets were off. Chucky had long ago vowed that another man would never put his hands on him without losing his life and since he was old enough to hold a gun he had kept true to it. Just like Pharaoh had his rules, Chucky had his. Boo’s ass was out.
For as long as Chucky had known him, Boo had been a man of routine. He always worked out in the same public park about the same time, in the wee hours of the morning. When Persia had smoked herself to sleep, Chucky slipped out of the house and went to take care of Boo. Sure enough at 5:00 a.m. on the dot, Boo came jogging up the path through the park, where Chucky was lying in wait for him behind a stand of trees. Chucky didn’t bother to try to be stealthy about it, he simply stepped out onto the path in front of Boo, with his gun raised.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Ramses’s pet snake. What the fuck you want, li’l nigga?” Boo asked in an irritated tone.
Chucky chambered a round into the pistol. “You should have never put your hands on me, Boo.” His voice was heavy with emotion.
“What, you wanna kill me because I roughed you up a little bit?” Boo asked, with a smirk on his face like the situation was a joke. “You new boys kill me. You wanna run around out here like you John Gotti, but the moment somebody lays hands on you the first thing you do is grab a gun. The only time one of you little faggots even shows an ounce of balls is with a weapon in your hands. You ain’t no gangsta, you a punk!”
“Let’s see how much of a punk I am when I blow your damn brains out,” Chucky said, gripping the gun tighter. All the crack he’d smoked had him jittery. “Beg me for your life like Benny begged for his.”
Boo rolled his shoulders and poked his chest out. “Well, if you expect me to beg, you’re mistaken. I done looked down the barrels of guns of tougher men then you and never batted an eye. So fuck you, and fuck that thieving-ass nigga who got his ass smoked. If you gonna do something, do it and stop talking about it!” He lunged at Chucky.
The first bullet hit Boo in the stomach. His eyes grew wide with shock as he looked down the growing red stain on his T-shirt. Boo stumbled toward Chucky, hands outstretched reaching for his throat, and Chucky shot him again. Boo fell on his hands and knees, looking up at Chucky in disbelief. “You . . . you . . .”
“Yeah, me!” Chucky said triumphantly and put one in Boo’s head. After checking Boo to make sure he was dead, Chucky made hurried steps from the park. There was much that needed to be done to cover his involvement in the murder, but he was pressed for time. He had already been gone longer than he expected and he didn’t want Persia to wake up and realize that he was gone. That would raise questions . . . questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
With Wolf on his ass there was no way he was going to risk going back to his place carrying a gun with a fresh body on it, so he needed to stash it somewhere until he could properly dispose of it somewhere. Against his better judgment he called Karen. She had helped him cover his tracks more than a few times over the years, even once taking a drug charge for him, so it wouldn’t raise questions if he asked her to stash a gun for him. Karen had been in love with Chucky since she was a little girl and
it was her love for him that he often used to manipulate her when he needed something. He knew he could never have someone like Karen as his main girl, but as long as he let her believe it was a possibility, it would keep her loyal to him. It was a sound plan, until fate once again took a shit on him and Karen spotted him and Persia together that night.
Karen was crushed and Chucky knew it, but there wasn’t much that he could do about it at the time. He had to play it cool during their confrontation to keep up appearances in front of Persia, but inwardly he was cursing himself for getting caught creeping. Chucky and Karen had had more than a few fallings-out over the years, but he had never seen her as angry as she was when she saw him with Persia. Chucky might’ve been an asshole, but he was no fool and knew that there was no telling what a woman scorned was capable of. He was going to pay her a visit to retrieve the gun before she could do something foolish. He would try to buy her silence with money and sex like he always did, but if that didn’t work then he was going to kill her.
Chucky was getting sloppy, Ramses was getting too close to the truth, and Wolf was getting impatient. The walls were closing in on Chucky and it would only be a matter of time before he ended up dead or in prison and neither were acceptable choices. There was no doubt in his mind that Chucky had to leave New York for greener pastures, but he couldn’t just bolt. He had to continue as if it was business as usual for a while so as not to tip Ramses off to what he was up to. You couldn’t snatch your hand out of a lion’s mouth, you had to ease it out. He no longer felt safe at his apartment in Harlem so he would need somewhere else to lay his head while he was hustling up some travelling money. He had an aunt and who had a place in Mt. Vernon that she shared with her boyfrind. They were notorious base heads, so Chucky was sure in exchange for drugs they would let him crash for as long as he needed to. It would only be a temporary arrangement. As soon as he got up a big enough bankroll, he was in the wind.