Grind Mode

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Grind Mode Page 10

by Willie Slaughter


  “I had to find out who was working fo’ the people,” Lil Will replied.

  “My nigga, you know it’s death before dishonor with me,” Rimp said defensively. “As long as we have been doing this shit together, bruh!”

  “I know, fam,” Lil Will said, “but guess who the rat was? Fred.”

  Rimp frowned. “You bullshitting.”

  “Nigga went fed on me. Nigga been squealing. Sang a song that cost a nigga 680 months,” Lil Will said.

  “Where this nigga at?” Rimp asked.

  “Listen. You a free man. Get ya shit straight and holla back at me. Matter of fact, I got to take a trip. Mark will be holding shit down,” Lil Will said.

  He left. When he got to the house, the door was unlocked and Monica was gone. He searched the house and realized all of her personal belongings were gone. He checked the wall safe. All of his money was still there.

  Trifling-ass bitch, he thought to himself. He knew she was with Ju-Ju. He scrolled through his contacts to find her friend’s Erica number and called. “Erica, this Lil Will,” he said.

  “Oh, hi,” Erica said.

  “Don’t play games with me. Where Monica?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her,” Erica replied.

  “I know you know. And I know you know ’bout her and the nigga from out of town. When I find out, I’m killing you all,” Lil Will threatened.

  He hung up. Not trying to waste any time, he packed a few outfits and left. While pulling off from the curb, he called Mark.

  “A nigga tired. What’s up?” Mark said.

  “Find Monica and put her ass to sleep with that nigga Ju-Ju,” Lil Will ordered.

  At the mentioning of that name, Mark became fully awake. “Ju-Ju?” he said.

  “You heard me. The bitch been creeping with him while we were handling business,” Lil Will stressed.

  “Ju-Ju from Lynn, Mass?” Mark asked.

  “I think so. Do you know the nigga?” Lil Will asked.

  “If it’s the Ju-Ju I know, he’s Snake brother,” Mark explained.

  “I’ll be damned. Lil Ju-Ju. So he tryin’ to take my bitch. Pick a plot fo’ his ass next to her,” Lil Will said.

  “So be it, fam. I’m on it,” said Mark.

  After they ended the conversation Lil Will called to GA. “What’s up, Teddy?” Lil Will said.

  “What’s good?” Teddy replied.

  “Did you all get that,” Lil Will asked?

  “Yeah,” said Teddy

  “Good. I’m on my way. Too hot up here. Y’all be on standby,” Lil Will said.

  “Bet,” Teddy replied and then hung up.

  Headed down 5th and 9th to the airport, Lil Will was so deep in thought he didn’t see the fed car tailing him until it was too late. They pulled up beside him with flashing lights and with their badges on display, telling him to pull over.

  “Fuck,” he said to himself. He pulled out his cell phone and called his lawyer. He picked up just as the agents approached with guns drawn.

  “Get out the car now! Or we will be forced to shoot to kill,” the lead agent yelled.

  He opened the door and got out with his hands above his head. That didn’t stop them from getting a little rec off him. They roughed him up a little before and after cuffing him. Due to the fact his lawyer was still on the phone, he smiled as they put him in the backseat.

  His lawyer, after overhearing and recording the matter, started making calls to see where his client was being taken, but it was too early to find the information he needed.

  “Okay, thank you. I’ll call back tomorrow morning,” the attorney said and then hung up.

  Lil Will was transported to Florida. Agent Scott, upon seeing him, didn’t think twice. He punched him in the face until he got tired. Lil Will spat blood on the floor.

  “Damn. You feel better now? How does it feel to hit a real nigga?” Lil Will teased.

  “You fucked up, my man. Do you know who I am?” Scott asked threateningly.

  “Yeah,” Lil Will laughed. “A fuckin’ nobody to me.”

  “You killed my wife, and you, my man, are going to pay,” Agent Scott said.

  “What the hell? I ain’t killed nobody,” Lil Will said, offended.

  “I know you sent your boys to kill me, but as you can see, I’m still here. But my wife didn’t make it,” the agent said, fighting back the emotion.

  “Man, I don’t know what the fuck you talking ’bout,” Lil Will proclaimed.

  “I’m pretty sure you killed Fred Johnson too. He’s missing,” Scott said.

  “I don’t know no Fred,” Lil Will said.

  “Well, we will see about that,” the agent said confidently.

  “I want to call my lawyer. Until then, I have nothing to say to you,” Lil Will said, knowing his rights.

  The door opened. An agent walked in followed by a slim fine black woman in a beige pants business suit.

  Agent Scott eyed her. “May I help you?”

  “Yes you can,” she said while producing her credentials. “I’m with the law firm and an associate of Willie James's lawyer.”

  Agent Scott’s heart skipped a beat. “Come again?”

  “I’m here on the behalf of Willie James, a client of the law firm I work for. I would like to know how his face got like this,” she added.

  “In an attempt to elude my fellow agents, he hit a tree,” Agent Scott said.

  “Oh, really?” she replied.

  The agent who had accompanied her took the cuffs off of him.

  “To be clear, I’ll be filing a suit against the agency,” she threatened.

  They left. As they walked through the parking lot, she asked him if he was okay.

  “Yeah, but how did you find me so fast?” he asked.

  “Your phone. G.P.S.,” she answered.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Knight,” he said.

  “Nigga, I ain’t no Mrs. And call me Cynthia,” she said sarcastically.

  “Okay, Cynthia. Let’s get the hell away from here,” Lil Will said.

  Agent Scott was heated. Inside of the interrogation room, he flipped over the table and threw the chairs against the wall. Under his breath he swore to kill him. What the hell was the foolproof plan? As he thought about it, a smile spread across his face. I got you. We’ll play by your rules, Lil Will, he thought to himself as he walked out of the room on the phone.

  Chapter Eleven

  The head of the cartel was eating grapes in the study at his estate. He was 5’9” with a short cropped hair cut, a medium built Italian. He had been running the illegal business of drug trafficking for the past forty plus years.

  “Sir, you sent for me?” the butler asked.

  “Yes. Bring me the phone,” the head of the cartel commanded.

  “Yes sir,” the butler said.

  The butler came back and handed him the phone on a platter. He called to the States. His right hand man JC answered.

  “Yes sir,” answered JC.

  “I got a call last night. Lil Will got picked up,” he informed him.

  “Yes sir, but he’s out. His lawyer sprung him. Agent Scott wants him bad,” JC added.

  “This is bad for business,” the head said.

  “I know, sir. What do you want me to do?” JC asked.

  “Nothing for now. Just keep tabs on him. Make sure no heat comes my way. If need be, take the agent out,” he responded.

  “Yes sir,” JC said.

  The call ended. He leaned back in his chair, thinking. He liked Lil Will. He looked at him like a son. The past year he’d made him a lot of money. He couldn’t think of why the agent was gunning for Lil Will so hard, but he was bound to find out. He clicked a button on the desk. The butler walked back in the study.

  “Yes sir,” he said.

  “Call Agent Johnson and let him know it’s imperative that we meet by tomorrow morning. I’ll be in Texas,” he ordered.

  “Yes sir,” he said.

  The head
of the estate continued to eat his fruit. The thought of being undermined by a federal agent who was out for revenge on one of the best employees he had wasn’t sitting too well with him. He ate the grapes one at a time while pre-planning the outcome he was going to make happen for Lil Will.

  The butler reentered the room and announced that the chopper was ready to go. He thanked him politely for his assistance before getting up out of the chair. The butler escorted him to the waiting helicopter and told him to have a safe trip.

  When he landed in Texas, armed guards were waiting on standby to escort him to the estate. On the way there, one of the armed men asked him if he needed to see Agent Johnson right away.

  “No. I need to get a little rest. Just let him know I’m here,” he replied.

  “Yes sir. The Mexican’s shipment is ready too, sir,” the guard informed.

  “Good. Make sure it’s a go for the G.G.B. and Dell,” the head ordered.

  “Who’s that?” the guard wanted to know.

  “Me and his father go way back. He reached out to me about three months ago. I’ll let him know to meet you tonight,” answered the head.

  “Yes sir,” the guard replied.

  They walked into the main building of the compound. An armed guard was on post every so many feet away. Each one snapped to attention and saluted him. He acknowledged them all by a wave of his left hand and nod of the head.

  “No visitors until I notify you saying otherwise. Understood?” he asked the butler.

  “Very much so, sir,” replied the butler. “Would you care for anything to eat or drink?”

  “No thank you,” was his reply, “but thanks all the same. I only require a moment to rest before business comes.”

  “As you wish, sir,” said the butler before leaving him to get settled in.

  The head walked into the master bedroom. He took one good look at the king-sized bed and found himself laying in it. He was tired - not physically, but mentally drained from having to deal with the pros and cons of the life he lived.

  He hadn’t always been in the position he was in. And it was his always acknowledging the sacrifices and other things that he had done to get to this point that kept him making the best decisions for business.

  *******

  Bee had personally driven to Dink’s crib to see what was up and to give the layout of his plans.

  “Bee, fuck that,” Dink said defiantly. “I’m on my way and I do shit on my own time.”

  “Bruh, why you always got to make shit so difficult? Let’s just make this money. We have a meeting in Miami where we’re bringing in a couple hundred thousand or maybe a full million, so chill. Lil Will just copped what we need. You ready?” asked Bee,

  “Yeah, I’m in,” Dink replied.

  “Good. Let’s get this paper. Slaughter Boyz fo’ life,” said Bee.

  Bee’s phone rang. He pulled it out of the casing on his hip and answered. “Talk to me.” It was Teddy.

  “Is the nigga thinking straight today?” asked Teddy.

  Bee couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah. He’s in.”

  “Good. We need Dink on the team,” Teddy said.

  “Fo’ sho’. The only thing Lil Will is concerned about is us payin’ our dues to the Circle,” Bee reminded him.

  “Good. Let’s do it,” Teddy said, motivated.

  Bee hung up with a smile on his face. Although he had told himself he would never fuck with Trisha’s possessive ass again, he found his thoughts leaning towards swinging her way. Waiting on Dink to come back out of the house and fire up, he hit her line.

  “What’s good, bae?” Trisha said as she answered the phone.

  Damn. It was almost like she was waiting on the phone to ring, Bee thought. “You, with your extra lip grip,” Bee replied. “What are you doing for it, li’l lady?”

  She paused for a minute, thinking about whether or not she should entertain the idea that was vivid within her mind. “I am not going to say what I want to say, bae.”

  Bee chuckled. “Why not? The world belongs to you. I’m just one of your number one fans who’s trying to work myself into being your favorite.”

  “Whatever, nigga. What’s on your mind though?” she asked knowingly.

  “Us for another tryout,” he said. “You game?”

  “When?” she asked.

  “In a few. Just keep that good-good on standby for me,” he said.

  He hung up just as Dink returned with a blunt already twisted. They burnt one together before Bee left.

  *******

  After six months of being back in Albany, everything was going as planned for Lil Will. His brothers and The S.M.F. Crew had pocketed over a half million each. He, himself, had tripled his profit.

  Teddy strolled in the office followed by Bee, who said, “What’s good, bruh?”

  “Chilling. Tryin to buy this new spot for us,” Lil Will said.

  “Where at?” Bee asked?

  “Up town. The Old J.C. Penney’s building,” answered Lil Will.

  Bee thought about the size of the place. “Damn, bro, what we going to do with that?”

  “What you mean? Nigga, if I land the deal, that’ll be the biggest club in Southwest,” Lil Will replied.

  “Anyway, Dink on his way with the money,” said Bee.

  “That’s what’s up, Bee. I got to fly out to Texas. The connect going to be there. We got to supply every damn city and county all the way down to South Florida by Monday,” he said, sounding tired.

  “Dammit, man,” Teddy cut in on the conversation. “I talked with the Columbian earlier.”

  “Great. What’s on their menu, Teddy?” asked Lil Will.

  “Oh, they ready,” Teddy replied.

  “Make it do what it do. Shit, that’s another four million a month,” Lil Will calculated. Teddy and Bee rubbed their palms together, grinning.

  “That’s the move, bruh,” Bee said.

  “Y’all niggas want to hit the club scene before a nigga bounces?” Lil Will asked his brothers.

  “Shit, let’s do it,” Teddy agreed.

  They went to the Fox. Teddy, Bee, and Lil Will hadn’t been inside a good ten minutes when Lil Will saw the same dark-skinned sister he bumped into the last time he was there.

  He tapped Bee on the shoulder. “Aye, bruh. Look at the pretty motherfucker there,” Lil Will said, hyped up.

  “Do what you do, bruh,” Bee said.

  Lil Will strolled out of VIP onto the dance floor and purposefully bumped into her this time.

  “Nigga, what’s your problem?” she asked, irritated.

  “Do you know me?” he asked.

  “No,” was her response, “and I really don’t give a fuck to know.”

  “Hold up, Miss Lady! My name Lil Will,” he added.

  “And? Is that supposed to mean something to me?” she said sarcastically.

  “Apparently not! Listen, let me buy you a drink! Get to know each other,” he pleaded.

  “I’ll take it as your apology,” she said.

  “Come on,” he said. He led her over to VIP, where he ordered five bottles of cranberry vodka and two bottles of Ciroc.

  “So Miss Lady, what’s your name?” he asked.

  “Machumu,” she said.

  “What kind of name is that?” Lil Will wanted to know.

  “The kind that only three people have,” she said defensively.

  “Okay. Okay. So what is it you do?” he asked, trying to get a hold of the situation.

  “I’m a cook. I work at the Carter’s Grill,” she responded.

  “Stop lying. I eat there all the time, and not once have I seen you,” he snapped.

  “No lie. Just like you will rarely catch me inside a club. It’s not my cup of tea,” Machumu said.

  The more small talk they made, the more he realized he was very interested in knowing her for real.

  “What about you? What’s your story?” Machumu asked.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.r />
  “Anything. Entertain me,” she said, propping her arm up on the table.

  “Let’s see. I’m originally from Albany, but I moved to Boston. I’m about my business and I’m tryin’ to be a boss,” he replied.

  “A boss at what?” she asked.

  “Owning my own everything,” he stated.

  “Oh, I see. You a drug dealer,” she said.

  “No. I’m a businessman up top and down here,” he said again.

  “So you want it all?” Machumu asked.

  “Why not?” replied Lil Will.

  They were halfway through the third bottle and they were feeling it. She excused herself to the bathroom. While she was gone, his phone vibrated on his hip. He didn’t answer the first two times, but they kept calling. Who the fuck is this! he thought to himself as he answered, “Hello?”

  “Nigga, you a dead man,” was all the male’s voice said before hanging up the phone.

  The line went dead. He put the phone down and watched Machumu walk through the crowd his way. When she reached the VIP booth, a gunshot echoed inside the club.

  “Damn!” Lil Will yelled.

  Everybody scrammed for the nearest exit. Lil Will and his brothers went out the side door, hopped in the ride, and burnt rubber getting somewhere. Bee pounded his fist against the steering wheel.

  “Them li’l niggas be wilding in The Fox. Almost fucked up a good thing. I got this bitch I been slaying. I'm about to swing by her crib,” Bee said.

  “That’s what’s up, bruh. Just drop us off at the office. I got some calls to make,” said Lil Will.

  *******

  Monica and Erica were at Ju-Ju's spot chilling. She had come by to check on her since she hadn’t talk to her friend in a while.

  “Girl, it’s been almost a year and yo’ ass been caged in,” Erica said. “Look at you. Head and nails all fucked up. Bitch, you need a makeover. That nigga Lil Will down in Georgia doing whatever the hell he chooses to do. I guarantee you that he is not giving a damn about you and living the good life.”

  “I know. I just feel so bad. I fucked up,” Monica tried explaining. She started crying all over again.

  “Nah, bitch,” Erica warned, “we are not doing the guilt trip shit. Pep up, bitch. You got Ju-Ju on ya team.”

 

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