Wrath of a Monster

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Wrath of a Monster Page 14

by T J Edwards


  “Oh, I see that somebody is a little homophobic. Sure, we’ll see things your way. Go ahead and present me with your proposal. I’m all ears, Juanito.”

  I was trying to keep calm. I felt like this muthafucka was mocking me or something. And it wasn’t that I was homophobic I just wasn’t cool with a man calling me no fucking darling. Shit, I’d never been with a female that called me that, so it was weird. Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to have this dude calling me anything but my name. Point blank period.

  “I’m not willing to give any of my family’s land. But what I can do is give you a life for a life and twenty five million dollars for the inconvenience. I didn’t have shit to do with your brother being killed, but I’m willing to compensate you anyway just so we can squash this bullshit.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re not offering me anything that I want other than your brother’s life. A piece of your land had to be apart of the equation or we go to war. It’s as simple as that and please do not let the soft spoken demeanor fool you. If we go to war you will lose in a bloody fashion and so will your innocent loved ones. This will be the biggest mistake that the Vega’ have ever made. It is in your best interest to play ball with me. This I can assure you of.” He smiled and placed a tuft of hair behind his ear.

  The last thing I wanted was to go to war with this Russian. Bruno already told me how powerful he really was. I was still in the beginning stages of building up my army of savages. There was no way I was ready to go to war with a billionaire mad man who probably had something to prove to the rest of the underworld because of what had taken place with his brother.

  I had to put my ego to the side and use my brain. And my brain told me that losing some of the land was better than losing it all. There was a season for everything and this wasn’t the time nor the season for me to pick a fight with a nation of real killers.

  “Fifty acres of land. You do with it what you please, but your men don’t overstep that fiftieth acre of land barrier.”

  “One hundred acres and you take the life of your brother. I want you personally to bring me his head on a platter and present it before me. There is always room for a little sibling rivalry. Wouldn’t you say, Juanito? In exchange for this display, I will not only wipe the slate between you Vegas and us Putins clean, but I will also help you take your family’s business global. There’s only but so much money in the United States. You have to start to think euros and yens. Pretty soon, the American dollar will be worth the same as a peso. Trump is a idiot.” I exhaled through my nostrils.

  “Yo, you reaching for a hundred? How about we make it seventy five and I give you ten million.”

  “I’ve said what I’ll accept. Anything less than this is a lost to me. You can either shake on this deal or we can make further arrangements.”

  He picked his dog up and allowed for it to lick his lips. He kissed the dog in the mouth and I’d had all that I could take. I couldn’t believe I was about to be hoed by a person that kissed his dog in the mouth and spoke softer than a woman. I was heated and wanted to kill something.

  I extended my hand. “We got a deal, Vorsky. Long as you hold up your end, I’ll do the same.”

  He shook my hand with a limp wrist. “That is very wise of you. I would like your brother executed first thing in the morning. I’d like to have his head on a platter right here on my desk by tomorrow afternoon around lunch time. Make it happen.”

  ***

  I stayed up the whole night with my back against the bathroom door, shooting heroin. I had was so fucking mad when I got home, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go at the Russian directly because he’d have me vanquished. I was sure of that. Tristian was surrounded by old world bodyguards from Havana, so it was going to be a task going at his ass. I had a bunch of things to figure out before the morning and the only way I knew how to free my mind was by the help of Mrs. Heroin.

  So I got fucked up all night until I passed out on the floor of the bathroom with the syringe laying on the floor right next to me. Before my eyes closed, I’d came up with the perfect plan of attack. I would make sure that Tristian’s head was placed before Vorsky just as he’d requested. Only then could I move forward with my life and get things on track.

  ***

  “Showbiz! Showbiz! Baby, what the fuck is going on? Are you okay in there?” Kalani asked, beating on the door. “Showbiz!” I jerked in my sleep and opened my eyes in a frenzy. My head was pounding worst than ever. I rushed to the toilet and purged my empty guts inside of it, retching like crazy.

  “I’m good, baby! I’m just sick.” I felt like I was on fire. Like I had on three sweaters, even though I was shirtless. Sweat was all over me.

  “Baby, I think I fucked up. I need you to come out here or I’m about to lose my mind!” Kalani hollered. “Please!” I flushed the toilet and gargled some Scope, spitting it into the sink and running the water. I washed my face with a towel and opened the door. Kalani stood on the other side of it with her eyes wide, tears running down her cheeks. She had blood all over her Prada blouse.

  “Baby, I got her. I got the lil’ bitch. Now I wanna kill her. I need you to stop me from killing her baby, please.” She held a long serrated knife in her left hand. There was blood dripping from the blade.

  My inner forearm was itching like crazy. My bones felt like they were cracking and my head was pounding. I needed a fix. I couldn’t fully focus on what she was talking about until I got right. I brushed past her and dropped to my knees, sticking my hand under the hotel mattress in search of my product and found none. There should have been at least an ounce of Vega heroin there. I was about to flip out.

  “Kalani, where is my dope, baby? I’m sick. Where the fuck is my shit?”

  “Baby. I got a little girl in the conjoining room. I’ve already started working on her. I swear I don’t want to kill this little girl. You have to stop me.” Sweat poured from her face in rivers. Her eyes were glossy. Her hair was all over the place. She was shaking like crazy. I could tell that she was beyond high.

  “Kalani, what little girl are you talking about? And where is my shit? It ain’t under the bed? I’m sick, baby.” My stomach muscles tightened up on me. I hunched over, looking up at her. She ran and opened the door that led to the other room that was connected to ours.

  “Brittany! The little girl that got shot the same time your son and Maine did. She took Tristian away from me. It’s her fault. I’m gon’ finish killing this bitch, bae.” She ran into the other room and straddled the little girl with the knife in her hand. From the distance, I could see that Brittany’s mouth was duct taped.

  “Where the fuck is my dope, Kalani?” I felt all under the bed until my fingers came upon the plastic wrapper the dope had been in. I pulled it out and saw there was nothing left inside of the bag other than a few crumbs. I sucked my finger and the saliva on my digits helped the crumbs to stick to my finger. I stuck it up my nose and snorted as hard as I could, searching for some relief from my withdrawals, but receiving none.

  “Bitch, you did all my dope. I’m finna kill yo ass!” I snapped, struggling to get to my feet. I dry heaved and fell to my knees. I crawled across the floor. My vision was blurry. My hearing distorted. I felt like I needed to shit and throw up at the same time.

  “I’m finna kill this lil’ bitch, bae! I’m so sorry. It’s her fault! It’s her fault, daddy!” Kalani hollered from the other room.

  My phone began to buzz from the dresser top. There was a pounding at the door. I felt like my heart was about to burst. I couldn’t breathe. I squeezed my eyelids tight and took a deep breath. I crawled to my phone and read the face. There was a text from Blackie, saying they were ready to handle business and all of our troops were in place.

  Kalani stepped back into the room with blood all over her. It dripped off of the knife. “I’m so sorry, Showbiz. I can’t take this shit no more. I can’t let you do me like this.” She raised the knife over her head and rushed at me with an ear-piercing scream.
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  To Be Continued…

  King of New York 5

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