by Roy Glenn
Now that he had the news, Albert hung up his cell and thought for a minute. He looked over at his blonde companion and said, “This is working out better than I expected.”
Albert excused himself and got out of the Jacuzzi. Once he’d dried himself, Albert put on the hotel robe and went into the living room. Birdie was laid back on the couch; he too had picked up a working girl. She was a tall black woman with very pretty lips and an ass you could sit drinks on. When Albert came in the room, her ass was the first thing he saw.
Ass up, face buried deep in Birdie’s lap
“Bird, we need to talk.”
Birdie gave Albert a wide-eyed look. “Now,” he said, about to cum.
“Hurry up, this is fuckin’ important.”
“So is this,” Birdie said to Albert and looked down. “Go-head, baby.”
Albert turned away and tried not to look at the woman’s ass, but the temptation was too great. He looked just in time to see Birdie make a cum face.
Albert laughed and went back in the bathroom to laugh some more. “What’s so funny?” his blonde companion asked.
“Nothing, Sweetie. You just had to be there.”
Albert waited enough time for Birdie to regain some sense of composure, before going to talk to him. By the time Albert came in the room the woman was sitting on the couch next to Birdie, who had pulled his pants up, but she was still naked.
“Honey, could you, like, wait in the Jacuzzi for me?”
The woman looked at Birdie, he motioned for her to go.
“But isn’t somebody already in the Jacuzzi?” she asked as she walked by Albert.
“Yeah. I’ll be in a little while to watch,” Albert said staring at her ass until she got to the door and turned around.
“Okay, but that’s gonna cost extra,” she said and closed the door behind her.
“Damn, she got a big pretty ass,” Albert remarked.
“Know what I’m saying?” Birdie agreed. “Wait ’til she sucks your dick.”
Albert sat down in the chair across from Birdie, but he couldn’t resist laughing a little when he thought about that cum face.
“What’s so funny?” Birdie asked.
“Nothing, Bird. You just had to be there.”
“All right what’s so important?”
“Freeze killed Lonnie and Smiley,” Albert said flatly.
“What?”
“You heard what I said. Freeze killed Lonnie and Smiley,” Albert repeated.
Birdie bounced up from the couch. “When this happen?”
“This afternoon.”
“You know how it happened?” Birdie snatched the bottle of Henny off the table.
“Pour me one, too,” Albert said and continued. “Lonnie was stopped at a red light, Freeze walked up to the window, popped them both, and walked away like it wasn’t shit.”
“Where’d it happen?”
“On the avenue, a couple of blocks from Black’s house.”
“What the fuck were they doing there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Damn. Just walked up and shot them. In the daytime, and just walked away. You can say what you want about Freeze, but that mutha fucka got heart.”
“What you gonna do, start his fan club?” Albert asked, but Birdie ignored him.
“Here, take your damn drink,” Birdie handed Albert his drink and sat down. “This is fucked up.”
“What is?” Albert asked. “I mean, other than Smiley and Lonnie being dead, what is so fucked up about this?”
“Sometimes Alley you so smart you stupid as hell. That’s what’s fucked up about it. They’re dead! I knew I shouldn’t have listened to your ass. We shoulda went right to Freeze, stood up and said nah, we didn’t do no foul shit like that. You want us to go ride on the niggas that did it? He woulda respected that.”
“And he still will when you say it. I mean don’t you see how this is working out exactly like we planned it.”
“You planned on Smiley and Lonnie being dead?”
“I said we all need to lay low. Not go riding around the dead zone. What the fuck were they doing there?” Albert said and stood up. He looked around the room and announced. “This is laying low. In AC, getting our dicks sucked.”
“A'ight, they fucked up. They got caught slippin’, but I still gotta do something about it.”
“I agree, we need to stick to the plan.”
“The plan? Why you can’t see this.”
“See what?”
“That it was a stupid plan. Mutha fucka’s is dead behind your plan.”
“It’s an acceptable loss!” Albert yelled. “Those aren’t your homies! Their soldiers! Soldiers, Bird, and you are the general and like it or not this is a war now.”
“That’s why I gotta bust back. If I don’t do nothing mutha fucka’s will try to roll over me.”
“But if you escalate this, it will be bad for business.”
“Then business will have to suffer.”
“Okay; but think about this for a minute. We go back tomorrow; we put the word out that we wanna meet with Freeze or Bobby. You still make that same speech about riding on the niggas who did it. But you tell them that you’re willing to consider Smiley and Lonnie a misunderstanding, because it’s bad for business. They’ll respect that.”
Birdie thought about what Albert said. “No Alley, this time we gonna do things my way. We bust back. End of story.”
“Who you gonna kill then?” Albert asked and turned away.
“Freeze.”
Albert turned back quickly. “Now that’s another matter entirely.”
“What you talking about?”
“Think about it, you kill Freeze and that takes this to a whole other level. If Freeze is dead, Shy is dead, and with Black in jail, Bobby will come talk to us.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mike Black
I understand why some mutha fucka’s lose it in here. Time ain’t no easy thing to do. Especially in here, nothing to do but think. Think about shit you don’t wanna think about.
I can see Cassandra's face, beaten.
I wonder if I’d ever get that picture out of my mind and be able to remember her like she was, beautiful, and mine. No one ever had a hold on me the way she did. I would have given her anything she wanted, done anything for her.
I wondered what was going on in the world. Maybe Wanda will visit today. I definitely could use it. I needed to know what was going on. Information makes the world turn and I’d made my living on it. Knowing what to do and when, was the key to it all. It’s served me well, until now.
You know what’s funny about this, of all the shit I’ve done, all the people I’ve killed, I’m in jail for a murder I didn’t do, couldn’t do.
What goes around, comes around, right?
Over the years I’ve done a lot of shit, some of it … okay … a lot of it I’m not proud of. I’ve heard a lot of people say that they’ve never killed anybody that didn’t deserve it or never killed anybody that wasn’t in the game.
“They don’t count,” I’ve heard. “When you living that life, that’s the risk that comes with it.”
There are two people that I’ve always regretted killin’. One was stupid, I was drunk. But the other, he didn’t have to die. Like I said the first one, I was drunk, that’s my only explanation. I was hanging out with Angelo Collette.
So were out in Long Island when Angelo saw this guy. “Hey, Mikey.”
“What?”
“You see that guy over there?” Angelo slurred.
“Which one?”
Angelo pointed. “The white guy.”
I looked at Angelo’s finger and followed it. “They’re all white guys, Angee.”
“The one wearing sunglasses at night.”
“Oh.”
“That fucka owes me money,” Angelo said.
“So, what you wanna do? You gonna kiss him or we gonna get your money?”
“What are you, Mikey? A fuc
kin’ fruit or something? Hell no, I ain’t gonna kiss him. But the chick with him, now her I’d like to fuck.”
I looked closer. “Damn, Angee, that’s a fuckin’ man!”
“It is?”
“What are you, Angee? A fuckin’ fruit,” I laughed.
“No, I’m fuckin’ drunk!”
“Shit, so am I. But I ain’t talking about fuckin’ no man. What are you? A fuckin’ fruit!” I laughed so hard my head started hurting.
“Come on, Mikey,” Angelo said and stumbled in that direction. “Hey, hey. Hey you, fuck face. You with the glasses,” Angelo said as we staggered up.
“What’s up Angelo?”
“Fuck that, fuck face. Where’s my fuckin’ money?” Angelo demanded to know. He grabbed the guy by the collar and led him around behind the club. “Now, fuck face. Where’s my fuckin’ money?”
“I don’t have it on me. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow, I swear to God Angelo.”
Angelo turned to me and when he turned back it was with one to the gut. “Hey, fuck face. I’m fuckin’ talking to you, fuck face. Where’s my fuckin money, and you better not tell me no shit about you ain’t got it.”
“Really, Angelo, I’m gonna give you your money. I just ain’t got it on me.”
“You hear this shit? You hear this shit, huh Mikey? This piece a shit don’t have my money.”
“Yeah, I hear him.”
“This fuckin’ fuck face piece a shit don’t have my money. Shoot this prick, Mikey.”
I took out my gun and shot him.
“What the fuck!” Angelo screamed. “Are you out your fuckin’ mind, Mikey?”
“What? You said shoot him, so I fuckin’ shot him,” I slurred and put my gun away.
“I was fuckin’ kidding. I was just trying to scare the bastard,” Angelo said as he paced back and forth over the body. “Fuck it, let’s get outta here.”
Back then, I was young, dumb, drunk and armed. A deadly combination.
Then there was one other guy. He didn’t deserve to die either, but I killed him. I was going to collect from a guy named Herman Epps. He was a nice guy, I mean it. Herman Epps was really a nice guy. But one thing about Herman, he was all about business. He was a consistent buyer, never late with the paper. He wasn’t getting rich with it, but he was doing well.
Herman’s down fall, like most men, was women. He loved them and he loved to love them. I’d see Herman hanging out at all the hot clubs. Always with a different woman, but then he met Anastasia. After that, Herman was never the same. After that, his game got sloppy, but Herman never could see what kind of poison Anastasia really was.
Anastasia was an attractive woman, but she wasn’t a star or anything close to it for that matter. But to hear Herman tell it, Anastasia had a gift. He told me once, even though I didn’t really wanna hear it, that he didn’t know what cumming was until he met her. Long story short, he was pussywhipped. Herman said the only thing wrong with her was that Anastasia was insanely jealous. If a woman ever got near Herman, she’d make a fool of herself and Herman too. After a while, Herman laid back, cut loose all of his women and married Anastasia.
So, like I said, Herman had got a little slow with the money, but he always came through. At the end, Herman was trying to step it up, making bigger and bigger buys. Until this one time, he had re-ed up on the product, even though he owed fifty grand. It was Herman, always straight with the paper. So, when he assured André that he would have his money in a few days, nobody thought twice.
But all of a sudden, Herman goes missing, nobody and I mean nobody had seen or heard from him in weeks. I had gone by his apartment, Herman wasn’t there. Wasn’t in any of his usual spots, he was ghost.
One night about two in the morning, I was in the area hanging out with Cézanne and I see a light on in his apartment. I told her that I would be right back, put my gloves on and went inside. When I got to the door, I heard music playing softly. I knocked on the door, Herman didn’t answer.
“Herman! It’s Black! Open the door, I just wanna talk.” Still no answer. “Come on, Herman, I know you’re in there. I can hear the music.” He still didn’t answer, so I used this size fourteen key I got.
When I kicked in the door and went inside the place was a mess, and it smelled bad. It was hard to breathe; it was so funky in there. My first thought was, I would think Anastasia would at least keep the place clean, but maybe cleaning ain’t her thing. Herman said she could fuck, not clean. I went into the living room and found Herman sitting in a chair, listening to Teddy Pendergrass, staring at the snow on the TV screen, but he had a nine-millimeter in his lap. At first, he didn’t seem to realize that I was there.
“Herman! Herman!” I yelled and took a step closer. “Herman!”
Slowly he turned toward me. “Black,” Herman said softly. “How’d you get in here?”
“I kicked in the door.”
“Oh.” I looked at Herman, he was dressed in black, but it was wrinkled, like he’d slept in those clothes for a while. He needed a shave and his hair was matted to his head. And I found out what I smelled was Herman. I had never seen him look so bad.
“What the fuck is wrong with you man?” I asked Herman.
“I know you came here for money, Black, but I ain’t got it,” Herman said slowly.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked again.
“I ain’t got it, Black. I wish to God I had it, I wish—,” Herman said and started crying. I’m not talking about a tear or two, he was crying. “I wish Anastasia was here.”
I hate to see a woman cry, I admit it, it’s one of my weaknesses. But a man crying is the worst.
“Dude, dude, what you talking about? Where’s Anastasia?” I asked as Herman continued to cry.
“She took everything from me, and left me here with nothing, Black. And I loved her, Black and I trusted her. I fuckin’ trusted her!” Herman yelled and swung the gun around.
“Who, Anastasia? She left you? Damn Herman, I’m sorry.”
Here I am come to collect money or administer pain and I’m feeling sorry for the guy. “It’s gonna be alright, man. Just watch how you swing that gun.”
“She left me, Black. Ran off with some nigga she used to get high with,” Herman cried. “I thought she loved me. I gave her everything.”
“Sometimes that’s mistake. Some women take you for weak when you give them too much,” I reasoned. “But chill out, it’ll get better. There’s plenty of other fine ass women out there,” I said thinking about the one I left in the car.
“You don’t understand!” Herman swung the gun again. “I don’t want anybody! I love her!” Again with the tears.
“Look, man. I’m sorry Anastasia left you. I didn’t think she was like that, but I guess you never know.” I thought about Regina. At the time, I wouldn’t have thought she was capable of cheating on me, but you know how that turned out.
“You gotta get your shit together. Clean yourself up, clean this place up,” I said and pointed around the room with my gun. “Get your package back and find you some new pussy. I guarantee it will make you feel better. I ain’t gonna fuck you up, because you’re shooting bad like this and shit. Just tell me when you think you’ll have some money and I’m out.”
“But you don’t understand. Anastasia’s gone, Black. She took everything.”
“Hold up. You telling me that Anastasia bounced with the money?”
“And the product. She took the money and the product. That’s what I been trying to tell you. Anastasia took the money and the product and ran off with that nigga,” Herman began to cry again.
Damn.
Ain’t that a bitch?
Or should I say, ain’t she a bitch.
“How could she do me like that, Black? I ain’t no bad guy. I treated her good. Didn’t kick her ass, even though she needed it sometimes. Never called her out her name.”
“She took the money, Herman? The fuckin’ money!” I yelled.
“All you care
about is the money, but I lost everything. I don’t have anything anymore.”
“Yeah, Herman, that’s all I care about,” I lied. I really did feel for him.
“There’s nothing left for me now. Anastasia was all I had. I just wanna die, Black. I wanna kill myself, but I just don’t have the nerve. I been sitting in this chair for I don’t know how long, with this gun, but I just can’t do it”
“Fuck that, Herman don’t kill yourself, she ain’t worth it.”
What was I saying? I was supposed to be killin’ him about this money.
“Kill me, Black.”
“What?”
“Kill me, Black. I just don’t wanna live without her. She took everything from me. She took away my future. Please, Black, just put your gun to my head and pull the trigger.”
“No!”
“You can use my gun, Black just kill me please,” Herman said and tried to hand me his gun.
“No! Nigga is you crazy? I may kill you about not having this money, but I ain’t gonna kill you cause that bitch left you. What I need to do is find her ass.”
“No, Black, please, don’t hurt her. Please, I’m begging you Black don’t kill her, kill me. I’m the one that don’t deserve to live.”
“Look Herman, I’m gonna get outta here man. You’re depressing the fuck outta me. I’ll be back to check on you, see if you know where she is. I’m not gonna hurt her, Herman, I promise. Just don’t do nothing stupid, a'ight?”
Just as I turned to leave I heard Herman call me. When I turned around, he was pointing his gun at me.
“I can’t let you hurt her, Black! This stops here!”
I shot him.
Two shots in the head.
“Damn, Herman!”
I looked at Herman’s dead body slumped over in that chair. I picked up my shells, got outta there and went back to Cézanne.
“Took you long enough,” Cézanne pouted and folded her arms.
We drove away in silence, or at least I drove in silence. Cézanne on the other hand was going on and on about how rude it was for me to leave her in the car and take so long. That went on until I screamed.
