Hard Win (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series 3)

by Jason Stanley

  “Because you know this guy Ascia ordered both Gabe’s murder and had you take out Jackson four years later?”

  “That, and because the sonuvabitch Jack-Move, the guy that killed my girl Little-T, works for him.”

  Michelle turned away from the window and made herself stand still. She had been pacing around the room again. Holding the phone with one hand, she did toe touching stretches with her other hand.

  “Right, you said that. How does he fit in?”

  “Ascia had to know Sugar ran the women on the street as part of Jackson’s organization. He also has to know I took over. Now that I think of it, Sugar must have gone straight to him when I ran her out of town.”

  “So, this Ascia sent Jack-Move to kill Little-T?”

  “I don’t know whose idea it was to kill Little-T. It could have been either one of them. What I do know is Ascia sent Jack-Move to Anglewatts to push me out. He came ready to take over. He had twelve Russian hookers with him.”

  “You’re saying he was there with a stable of women to take over your territory?” he asked.

  “Yeah. We had a bit of an exchange at his place last week. His China Doll got killed and we figure he ran back here to Houston. Deja is babysitting eleven Russian pros who are begging us to protect them. They all want to stay in Anglewatts and work for us.”

  “Good God, Michelle, this shit has my head spinning. The one thing I have clear is, this Ascia guy has earned the need to be killed. The other thing I know is I want to help however I can. What about the captain? I think something should be done about him too.”

  “He recently had an unfortunate accident. He fell through a shower door and about cut his fool head off. One of my girls had a date with him and she found him. The po-po kept her for a few hours and sent her home. I expect they’ll rule it as an accidental death.”

  “Sounds like it couldn’t have happened to a better guy. What next?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I need some time to figure it out. Right now, can you just lay low? Can you do that?”

  “If you say it’s best I lay low, hard as that’ll be, I’ll do it. I’ve had some practice with keeping your secrets.”

  Four years earlier, G-Baby had rescued Michelle, covered in blood from holding her dying brother, and helped her get out of the country. It was through his initial contacts that other contacts were made and she eventually worked her way to the deeply obscure assassin and wet-work training in Thailand and Vietnam. He knew what she did, but not any of the details such as who she worked for.

  “Thanks Uncle G. It might be a few days or even a week before I have a handle on what to do. I’ll call as soon as I’m close to figuring it out.”

  “Promise?” he asked.

  “You have my word on it.”

  Seventeen: Ungrateful Bitch

  AT TWENTY AFTER TEN, Deja was surprised to see Latoya and two other women deep in conversation. They were so involved talking they didn’t even see her pull up until she stopped at the curb. As far as Deja was concerned, this was both good and bad. Good because she wanted to confront all three of them. Bad because the other two women didn’t work this block. They shouldn’t be here.

  Something was up. The same three women didn’t come by Blanche’s that morning with their cash envelopes. Deja talked to them on the street the night before, so knew they were working. It was a hard and fast rule, if a woman couldn’t make it to pay up in the morning they had to drop their cash at the child care center before hitting the streets the next night. They hadn’t done either.

  Deja jumped out of the car and strode over to the three women. On the way, she realized all three of them had been part of Jimmy’s stable before Michelle ran him out of town. While Deja didn’t know what was coming, she was sure it was a problem. And, she wasn’t surprised Latoya was at the center of the mess. She had a lot of juice with the other women. Too bad she used it to cause trouble.

  “Well?” Deja stepped up close, deep into Latoya’s space.

  “Well what?” Latoya shot back, holding both her physical and emotional space.

  “Where the fuck is last night’s money?” Deja demanded.

  “We’re not paying until we know you and Michelle got rid of that bastard who killed Little-T. It ain’t safe and we ain’t paying.”

  “Yes you will. You’ll pay right fucking now or you’re out,” Deja faced them, hands on her hips. The three women looked at her. Latoya stared back with open defiance. Jazzy glanced at Leggs who returned her look and nodded.

  Leggs opened her purse and pulled out the standard envelope all of the women used for their deposits. “It’s all there.” She stepped around Latoya and handed the envelope to Deja.

  Latoya’s hands flew into the air as she spun to face Leggs. “What! Jus’ like that. You’re gonna cave?” Pursing her lips she gave Leggs a hard stare. “I thought you had more balls.”

  “Sorry Latoya.” Jazzy handed her envelope to Deja.

  “You too?” Latoya whirled around facing Jazzy.

  “It sounded good, you saying we needed to watch out for ourselves, stick together and all. But we never did that before. What happened to Little-T was terrible, but at least it wasn’t her own pimp. We got it good with Michelle. I’m sticking where I am,” Jazzy said.

  “What the fuck you mean? We got it good. Tell that to Little-T!”

  “Sorry Latoya, I gotta go. Come on Leggs.” Jazzy and Leggs headed up the block, tipping on her stiletto-heels.

  “Well, what’ll it be?” Deja demanded again, looking Latoya in the eye.

  “I don’t got no money wit’ me.” Latoya said.

  “Drop it off at the center. If you don’t bring it tonight, don’t bother coming back. Also, you’re off the street tonight.” Deja said.

  “What the fuck, Deja. I can’t afford to be off the street. Tonight’s a big night.”

  “Should’ve thought of that before trying to pull this shit. You’re off the street tonight.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  Deja gave her a dead stare and pulled out her phone. “Hey, Jelena, time to see what your girls can do. Get one of them ready, she’s working the street tonight.”

  “Fuck that! This is my spot. I been here for over two years. You can’t give it to some crack ho from, fucking where? Compton or some shit hole.” Latoya stomped across the sidewalk to the street then back to where Deja stood. “Goddammit Deja I fuckin’ won’t let you do this.”

  “Shut the fuck up. It’s done. Put yo’ shit right, and you’ll be back here tomorrow. Keep being stupid and that Russian chick’ll have this spot permanently.”

  Latoya turned and took five quick steps away, then spun around, shaking a pointed finger at Deja, walking back to her saying, “What do you mean, a Russian? There ain’t no Russian hoz in the hood.”

  “Bitch step the fuck back before I knock you fuckin’ cross-eyed,” Deja dropped her purse on the ground. She took a half step up getting right into Latoya’s face.

  Both women grew up in the hood, both were scrappers. Also, both knew exactly when the person they faced was woofing shit and when it was real.

  Deja’s brows furrowed, her squinting eyes bored into Latoya. The muscles in her jaw bulged from clenching. Without actually moving, her body coiled preparing to strike.

  Latoya’s eyes flinched. She stepped back. Then took another step back. “There ain’t no Russian hoz around here.”

  “There are now and they work for us.”

  “Bullshit! You’re bluffing. You ain’t got no White girls. Not that ain’t no strawberry crack-head hos, you don’t. And you don’t work wit no crack-head hos so you ain’t got no White girls.”

  “Latoya, we’re done here. Get yo’ skinny ass to the center with the money or don’t. It’s up to you. But this conversation is over.”

  “I’ll bring your money, but I know you’re full of bullshit about some White women working the hood.”

  “You do that, and don’t even think of making it short.
I know how much should be in there. If you had a bad night, then you put extra in to make up for it.”

  Deja didn’t know the real story, but knew the situation well enough to make a good guess. She knew Latoya came up mostly in crack houses where she was probably abused even as a little girl. Deja wondered how she wasn’t an addict. But she was a money maker. Tall, slim to the point of skinny with no real shape. Deja couldn’t see why, but the men were drawn to her. Somehow, something about her promised good sex.

  It must be true because she always had a few regulars who paid well and frequently. Obviously, she became a bigger problem than the sex was worth. None of her regulars stayed for long.

  She had a loser boyfriend, Spider, who was every bit as much a shit-talking, shit-stirring snake in the grass as she was. Maybe he was the problem this time. Whatever it was, Latoya’s timing was perfectly bad.

  Deja shook her head, watched Latoya stomp off, and called T-Dog. “Hey, this Deja. Latoya, the tall skinny one they call Honey, is off the street tonight. Any of your crew sees her working anywhere in the city call me.”

  Deja picked up her purse and, shaking her head, headed to her car. That’s not the end of it. She’s gonna make one of us kick her ass before it’s all over.

  Eighteen: A Plan Comes Together

  MICHELLE FOLLOWED NIKKY on a later flight into LAX. After a short night’s sleep, she met both Nikky and Deja at Blanche’s Café where they were sure to be seen by both their employees and potential snitches connected to Ascia.

  “I feel like one of those goldfish with the big fluffy tails in a bowl,” Deja said.

  “Why a goldfish? As fish go, aren’t they stupid with something like a three second attention span?” Nikky asked.

  Deja cocked her head, crossed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue. “Because they’re pretty. That’s enough.”

  “And I think this is enough of our being seen.” Michelle pushed her chair back and went to the counter to pay the bill. “Thanks for breakfast, Blanche. Great as always,”

  Blanche waved. “See you girls later.”

  Stepping out of the diner into the morning light, the three women walked across the street to their office and center where they provided childcare for the prostitutes and growing pool of employees. People in the hood were generally pretty open-minded about things like prostitution, but on the advice of Miss Betty, Michelle decided not to open the center to the public.

  “Hi Myla, how are things this morning?” Nikky asked as the three friends entered the center.

  “Very quiet, I only have these two, and a couple more on the way for the rest of the morning.”

  “Has it been this quiet since the funeral, or is this normal?” Michelle asked.

  “No it hasn’t been particularly quiet since the funeral. And yes, this is normal for a Tuesday. It’s always quiet on Tuesday mornings,” Myla said.

  Michelle knew the answer, and knew that the reason Tuesdays were quiet was because it was the day off for three of the women with children who worked the day shift. She asked the question to be sure that Myla would remember her coming in. Myla was a local who loved to talk, and on a small level kept the drama going. Information flowed in two directions. She always knew who was doing what and did her best to tell everyone about everyone’s business. She was also quite protective of “her kids” and dispensed love and care even more than gossip.

  The friends walked into the tiny office, pulling the door closed behind them. It was best some things were not heard by Myla. Nikky spun her chair away from her desk pushed against the wall, Deja leaned against the closed door, and Michelle went to the single window.

  “What are you looking for?” Deja asked. “There’s nothing but the driveway out there.”

  “Rooflines.”

  “What about rooflines?” Nikky asked.

  “We can be pretty sure at least a dozen people in this city are in a position to get a little change for snitching us off. I was wondering if any of them might take it the next step. I don’t see it, not yet anyway. Trevon is a much better target than any of us. But still . . . I was looking for good lines of sight.”

  “Oh now you’ve done it,” Nikky said. “I’m gonna be scared to come in my own office.”

  “Until this mess with Ascia is over, you might be smart to keep your blinds drawn. Just as a small precaution.” Michelle pulled the cord and closed the old style venetian blinds.

  “Shit!” Nikky said. “Well, we’re in deep now. In for a penny in for a pound.”

  “What does that mean?” Deja asked.

  “You’re in all the way,” Nikky said.

  “I know that, I’m not that country,” Deja said. “But, what does it actually mean? How much does a penny weigh?”

  “It’s not a pound, it’s a pound, but could’ve been a euro, except they didn’t have euros or even dollars back when that saying got started,” Michelle said.

  “Now you’re just showing off. And I still don’t get it,” Deja said.

  “When we finish here, google it, but first we have to talk about how things have changed and what we plan on doing.” Michelle said. “If it was only taking out Jack-Move, I’d do it and be back before the dust settles. Now that we know he’s part of the high-profile Russian hooker ring in Houston, finding him will be easy. The truth is, getting to a guy like him is almost as easy as buying take-out at Popeye’s. He’ll be on the streets in all the wrong places at all the wrong times.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Nikky asked.

  “If it was just him, sure. But it isn’t. We can’t take him out, not now. It’d be like sending a text to Ascia saying we’re in Texas and coming for you.”

  “Are you saying we’re letting that asshole live after what he did to Little-T and Bunny?” Deja asked.

  “Oh hell no. He’s gonna die. I’m just saying, we need to take out Ascia first. This is our life. If we’re going to stay in it, we have to be honest with ourselves. Taking out Jack-Move is getting even. It’s revenge for killing our friend. We chose to live in this world. Sometimes that means I have to kill another human being, and by extension, you are a part of that. It’s ugly and it’s real. Sure, it sends a message. But again, let’s be clear who the message is and isn’t for. It’s not for the johns. There are thousands of them that will never know anything about it. First, it’s a big message to anyone who wants to muscle in on our territory. It’s also a message to the girls that we will protect them and pay back double on anybody who messes with them.”

  Both Deja and Nikky looked at Michelle. Neither said anything. Both nodded.

  “The message is lost on Ascia,” Michelle said. “It doesn’t mean anything to him. He doesn’t care if we take out a dozen guys like Jack-Move.”

  “Where does that leave us?” Nikky asked.

  “Since Jack-Move left L.A. he’s not an immediate threat,” Michelle said. “We’ll take him out on our own time. We don’t have that choice with Ascia. Taking him out is survival.”

  “Is it that serious?” Deja asked. “I know it’s serious, but what I really mean is, are we in danger now?”

  “Yes. With Ascia in the picture we are absolutely in danger. He’s a business man so would rather not have a lot of deaths to deal with. He’s also a soulless bastard. Killing all three of us won’t bother him a bit. Right now, killing us is his best bet. At least killing me is, and you guys also because of what you know. It’s something he needs to do.”

  “I don’t understand,” Deja said. “I understand how he might see it as the easy way to get what he wants. I don’t see why he needs to kill us.”

  “We have the Russian girls. He’ll figure they’ll know enough for me to connect him with Jack-Move. Also, his top cop here in Anglewatts is dead.”

  “That’s news. What do you mean his top cop is dead?” Nikky asked.

  “The job I did the other night?”

  “Yeah?” Deja responded.

  “It was a police captain. I knew he was connected to J
ackson, but not to Ascia. With the information Deja got from Jelena, it is all coming together. The captain was in Ascia’s pocket back in Texas before he moved out here. On Ascia’s orders, he greased the way for Jackson to take over. Then for the next four years, the good captain protected Jackson.”

  “I see,” Nikky said. “With his top cop coming up dead at the same time Jack-Move is run out of town and we take his girls, Ascia will see the connection. He’ll be certain you have him figured to have ordered Michael’s murder.”

  “Exactly,” Michelle said. “If we don’t take him out he’ll make a run at us. If that happens, one of us for sure will be shot or even killed before we can stop him. It’s him or us. And he knows it. Plus, he has the ability to come at us with some major firepower. He could easily bring half a dozen men plus local hires. We don’t have much of a choice. We have to stop him first. That’ll take some careful focused planning. Going after Ascia compounds everything by at least an order of magnitude.”

  “What’s that?” Nikky asked.

  “What’s what?”

  “An order of something. What it was you said,” Nikky said.

  “It means killing some pimp is easy when we know who he is. But killing somebody like Ascia is bat shit crazy hard. If it isn’t exactly right the first time, it’ll be a muthafuckin pooch-screw.”

  “You see, you learned to talk funny over in Thailand. You had me right up until you got to the dogs fucking. That’s where you lost me. But I get your meaning. It’ll be a bitch to cap Ascia,” Nikky said.

  “What dogs are fucking?” Deja asked.

  “She said the pooches are screwing,” Nikky replied.

  “Oh yeah, the pooch-screw,” Deja winked.

  In spite of herself, Michelle smiled at her friends. “Here’s the thing, we can’t go in busting caps at everything. We go in like street bangers blowing shit up, there’ll be no getting out alive. We have to be professional, careful, and surgical. They have been ready for someone to make a run on them for years. You can bet they have security where you can’t even think of security. And that shit’ll be backed up. So we have to look at every angle. Also, we have to buy the right equipment in a city where they know everyone. Then make the right move at the right time at the right place.”