“I never said that shit.”
“Yes, you fuckin’ did, Angee. The whole way back to Andre’s that’s all you kept sayin’. Chicken shit!”
Angee took another sip of his drink, and started nodding his head. I guess he remembered that too. “I guess you’re right. I did say that shit.”
“You know how long I carried that shit around?” I respected Angee; wanted him to respect me. I didn’t want him thinkin’ I was a coward.
“Sorry, Mikey. I didn’t know that shit bothered you. You wanna lay down on the couch and tell me about it?”
“I’m ’bout to take out my gun and shoot your ass.”
“If that’s what you’re gonna do to make it right, Mikey, go ahead and shoot. But you’ll miss me.” Angee finished his drink and motioned for me to drink up so he could pour me another. “So you gonna tell me about it?”
“About what?”
“Your first.”
“First what?”
“What the fuck have we been talkin’ about? How you made your bones!” Angee said, much louder than I needed him to.
“Why you yellin’?”
“I’m not yellin’.” Angelo poured me another drink.
I took a swallow. “When I got back to Andre’s, he was there with Bobby and five women.”
“Five of them?
“Andre was the king of the orgy, and he didn’t mind sharin’. After the women left I told him what happened, and after they both had a good laugh, he told me and Bobby to go a little bar up on Bronxwood later that night,” I said and laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“That bar is a church now.”
“Go figure.”
“Anyway, he gives us a picture of these two guys, and tells us what he wants us to do. Since I’d just got punked out on a job, he asks me if I’m sure I can handle it.”
“Hell yeah, I can handle it,” I told Andre that day. I was pretty sure that none of their kids would be hangin’ out with them at the bar. “The rest of the day, neither me or Bobby did much talkin’,” I continued tellin’ Angee, “which was rare for Bobby. Truth was, we were both nervous, especially since I had just fucked around and couldn’t kill Chicago.”
Angee’s facial expression changed. He put down his glass and looked at me. “You know, until you said his name, I forgot who he was and what that meant to you.”
“You are drunk.” Chicago was Cassandra’s father, and it was Angee who put me on to it ’cause I had no idea that they were related.
“I know that shit, Mikey.”
“You wanna hear this shit or not?”
Angee raised his glass. “Go ahead.”
“When we get to the spot, the guy won’t let us in.”
“Why not?”
“He said we looked too young to be in there, until Bobby said that Andre sent us. After that it was all good.”
Once we went in and sat down I asked Bobby, “What you tell him that for?”
“It got us in, right?” Bobby said. “And besides, Andre wants everybody to know it was him behind it.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic.
“Just relax. Have a drink and enjoy yourself,” Bobby said and stared at the lone naked dancer behind the bar. “You ain’t scared are you?”
“No! And don’t you start with me. I heard enough of that shit from Angelo.”
“Angelo.” Bobby shook his head. “Why you hangout with that guy anyway?” Bobby tolerates my friendship with Angee, but he never did like him, and wonders why I do.
“Angelo’s a good guy. Give him a chance. He’s gonna be a good guy to know,” I told Bobby that night and we waited.
It was two in the morning before the guys we were looking for got there. I tapped Bobby on the shoulder.
“You ready?” I asked and Bobby nodded.
We both put on gloves and stood up.
“Let’s do it,” Bobby said, and we walked toward them at the bar.
Once we were standing behind them, it was like time was standing still. I can’t speak for Bobby, and we never talked about it after it was done, but honestly, its one thing to talk shit about doin’ it, but pullin’ the trigger and blowin’ a hole in the back of somebody’s head is another. To that point, we had collected money and roughed up a few people, which was fun, but we were about to kill these muthafuckas.
We never even knew their names, much less who they were and what they had done for Andre to want them dead. But the time for thinkin’ was past; nothing to do then but pull and blast. I looked at Bobby, we pulled out our guns and we fired.
“What happened then?”
“What do you think happened? We dropped our gats and got the fuck outta there.”
“What you gonna do now?” Angee asked after another swallow.
“I’m gonna kill the corner of this Remy and get outta here.” I picked up the bottle and poured the last of the Remy into my glass, and maybe for the first time, was glad that Bobby made me get a driver.
He said that with all that we had goin’ on lately-muthafuckas tryin’ to kill me and shit-that I needed to have somebody with me at all times and he couldn’t always be there.
At first I resisted it. I don’t need no fuckin’ bodyguard. But I knew he was right, so I got a driver.
His name is Kevon. He used to work for Jamaica in the Bahamas. He drove me around on my last trip. I picked him because he didn’t know anybody in this country, so his loyalty to me and only me wouldn’t be a question.
“I’m talkin’ about this other DEA fuck. What’s his name?”
“Vinnelli.”
“What you gonna do about him?”
“What you think I’m gonna do? I’m gonna kill him.”
“You sure that’s the best idea right now?”
“What do you mean? This is the muthafucka that arranged Cassandra’s murder. He gotta die.” I drained my glass and stood up. I was a little shaky, but I kept my balance.
“Where you goin’, Mikey? Sit down and have another drink.”
“I’m out, Angee.”
“Well sit down anyway and think about this.”
I sat down and Angee poured scotch in my glass. “Think about what?”
“You shouldn’t push your luck. You got away with killin’ those other two assholes ’cause they couldn’t tie them to you, but Vinnelli, that might not go away that easy.”
I started to argue with him but was too buzzed, and besides, I knew he was right.
“All I’m sayin’ is that just ’cause you don’t see them, don’t mean they ain’t coming.”
“You right about that.”
“If you want my advice-and I notice that you ain’t askin’-but if you want my advice-you’ll back off this thing and go back to doin’ business.”
“You’re right, Angee.”
“I know I’m right. So you gonna back off this shit, right, Mikey?”
“I’ll leave it alone, Angee.” I wasn’t sure if I meant it or if I was just tellin’ him that shit.
“And I got your word on this? You’re gonna leave that shit alone and get back to business.”
“You have my word.” But now I had given my word.
Chapter 3
Nick Simmons
“That’s it, Nick. That’s it, baby. Fuck this pussy, Nick!” Wanda yelled as I took her from behind.
Under that business-like appearance and that cool, calculating demeanor, Wanda was allwoman.
Wanda and I had been friends since we were kids. She was the first person that I met when I was sent to live with my grandmother after my parents disappeared. I guess you could say that our relationship began when I was a suspect in four drug-related murders.
Since that night the two of us began spending time together, you know; just two friends that like to hang out together. But we were feelin’ each other. We finally got together while Black was in jail, accused of his wife’s murder. Not exactly the best of circumstances for us to get together, but it is what it is.
Being the private person that she is, Wanda insisted that we keep our relationship on the low. She didn’t want anybody to know about it; especially Mike Black, but I ended up telling him about it anyway. I thought that it was better coming from me.
I held her hips in place and pushed myself deeper inside her, but my mind wasn’t on Wanda, sex, or anything close to it.