by Roy Glenn
“Yes, daddy,” Veneshia said.
“Right behind you, daddy,” Bobby said, and then laughed.
I looked at Bobby, gave him the finger, put on my gloves and kept walking.
When we got to the room, I opened the door and I sent Veneshia in first. “How you doin’, Bodie?”
He was so busy fucking one, while she had her head buried between the other's thighs, eating the shit out of her pussy, that he didn’t even notice me and Bobby.
“I just wanted to make sure you were enjoying yourself.”
“You’re welcome to join us.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“But we would.”
At the sound of my voice, Bodie stopped fucking, then he turned slowly and finally saw me and Bobby with our guns pointed at him. He backed out of that pussy and put his hands up.
“Come on, girls,” Veneshia said, and stepped up. “Our daddy got business to take care of with this ugly ass nigga,” Veneshia said and then she began helping the women get dressed and then she ushered them out of the room.
As soon as the door closed, Bobby rushed up and hit Bodie in the face with his gun.
“I hope that you enjoyed it, because it’s the last piece of pussy you ever gonna get,” Bobby said, and kept hitting him in his already busted up face.
While he beat Bodie, I pulled the sheet off the bed and tore it into strips so we could tie him up. By the time Bobby got finished, blood spatter was everywhere and his face was a bloody twisted and distorted mass.
Then Bobby tied his naked ass to a chair and went back to work. I took a seat, because, honestly, I like watching Bobby work. Hell, ain’t nobody better at that shit.
“We ain’t gotta do this, Black!” Bodie yelled as Bobby whaled away. “I’m out! You can have it all.”
“I already got it all. I came to take your life.”
Bobby punched him in the mouth. “Time for you to stop talking now.” I handed Bobby a piece of the sheet and he gagged him. “Thank you, Mike.”
“No problem.”
Once the gag was tied tight, I stepped up. “Can I borrow your knife, Bobby?” Once he handed it to me, I sliced off a piece of Bodie’s ear. “Since you weren’t listening when I told you to have my money,” I said, and I beat Bodie until I had to stop to take a breath.
For the next half hour, me and Bobby took turns beating Bodie. At one point, we thought that either he had passed out or he was dead. Bobby picked up the garbage can, filled it with water and threw it at him, first the water and then the can. The water was to wake that ass up and the can so he’d feel pain. Then we pulled the gag out.
“You can talk now,” Bobby said, and slapped him.
“I want your money, Bodie. Where is it?”
“Come on, Black. You gotta leave me something.”
“No, Bodie, I don’t.”
“He really don’t get it,” Bobby said. He got in Bodie’s face. “You leavin’ this room in a body bag.”
“You know, laid out for everyone to see. Ain’t that how you were telling everybody you wanted to see us? Something about lining all of us up in body bags for everyone to see.”
“That was just me talkin’ big!” Bodie yelled.
“So you thought you had big cojones,” Bobby said in the worst Spanish accent I’d ever heard, so I told him.
“Yo, Bobby, that has got to be the worst accent I’d ever heard,” I said, and Bobby stopped hitting Bodie.
“Oh I guess you could do better?”
“Probably.”
“Yeah, well, you like bonin’ those mita, mita Puerto Rican bitches,” Bobby said, and went back to punching Bodie.
“Actually, its mira, and it means look,” I said, and Bobby stopped.
“There you go again.” He punched Bodie so hard that the chair tipped over with Bodie still tied to it. “Always gotta be so precise with shit.”
“Sorry. I like Hispanic women.” I got up and helped Bobby pick up Bodie’s chair.
“Yeah, well, I was in the middle of something.”
“Sorry I interrupted.”
“Now, where was I?”
“Big cojones.”
“Thank you.” Bobby punched Bodie in the face. “You only thought you had big cojones. Mine are bigger.”
“Tell me where the money is Bodie, and all this can stop,” I said and then I got up and pulled my chair next to Bodie. Then I took out my gun and unloaded it. I eased Bodie’s pinky in the trigger guard and jerked it back as hard and as fast as I could and broke his finger.
“Ow, shit!” Bodie screamed in pain as I moved on to his ring finger.
“That’s for not handing me my money when I told you to.”
“Fuck you, Black!”
“Where’s the money?” I asked and snapped another one. The middle finger was next.
“Ow, shit! You fuckin’ bastard!”
Bobby punched him in the face. “Watch your fuckin’ language. Least you could do is show some fuckin’ respect while we beat you to death.”
Bodie gritted his teeth.
“Tell me where the money is, and all this stops,” I said, and snapped his index finger.
“Fuck!”
“Look, Mike, I don’t think that finger breaking shit is gonna work.”
“I don’t know, Bob. I mean the boy got six more fingers, but if you got a better idea, jump in anytime.”
Bobby took out his gun and shot Bodie in one leg.
“Where’s the fuckin’ money?” Bobby yelled right along with Bodie and then he shot him in the other leg.
“Shit!” Bodie screamed, but he wouldn’t tell us where the money was. I think that he really thought that he was going to walk out of there alive to spend some of that money.
“This ain’t getting us anywhere,” I said, and Bobby started laughing. “What?”
“Maybe we shoulda cut off his dick instead of a piece of his ear,” Bobby said, and held up his knife.
“All right, all right, shit. The money is in a briefcase cemented in the wall at the hoe house.”
“Now was that so hard?” I said, put the clip back in my gun and shot Bodie twice in the head.
“If we had started with his dick, I’d be fuckin’ Jillian by now.”
“Yeah, but where is the fun in that?”
“I would have had plenty of fun fuckin’ Jillian,” Bobby said on our way out the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Canard Henderson is dead. Montel Lamont is dead. Roscoe Simeon is dead. Bodie Ringling is dead. Even Jerome Ennis and Butler Griffin aka Silky, they were all dead and guys like Emmet Grey and Dayton Armstrong were seeing the world through a completely new set of eyes. That allowed me to keep my word to André and more than tripled the money he was making.
I had built an organization inside of what André called an organization. It was over and we had come out on top. The streets belonged to us now. And even though I wouldn’t admit it to what was now The Family, I was King in those streets.
And you know what? It felt good.
I was in the office in his private club with André and Ricky when Benny and Dupree walked in with the money. André looked at me and then he spit his usual line.
“I don’t want to hear no excuses, just tell me who came up short and who ain’t paid this time,” André said the second they walked in the room.
“Everybody was ready with the money when we got there, Boss,” Benny said.
Dupree laughed. “Shit, Emmet and Dayton even told us we were late when we got there.”
“Then why were you late?” Ricky asked, and then he laughed, but when André didn’t, both he and Dupree stopped laughing.
The reason they were on time and eager to pay was because Nick and Jamaica had paid Emmet a visit earlier that day and Freeze was standing next to Dayton when he handed them the money.
“When we got to Sherman and Howard, they said that it wasn’t going to be necessary for us to go around to the rest of them niggas, because t
hey had gotten the money from them,” Benny said, and handed André a briefcase.
He nodded his head and then he looked at me. “Y’all go on and get the fuck outta here now.” André opened the briefcase, smiled and started counting the money. “You too, Ricky. I need to talk to Black alone,” he said without looking up from the case.
“Yes, Boss,” Benny said, and Dupree followed him out.
Ricky got up slowly and looked at me like he didn’t appreciate being asked to leave. I didn’t give a fuck, so I stared back at him with a smile on my face.
“I got some shit I need to go check out about that other thing anyway,” Ricky was saying on his way out of the office.
“You do that. Let me know when it gets here,” André said, and then he looked at me.
Once Ricky closed the door, I got up and made us both a drink and then I sat quietly until André finished counting the money. Then he put all of the money in the briefcase, got up and locked it in the safe.
“You wanna go ahead now and tell me about what I already been hearing about?”
“I changed the way we do business,” I said and then I took my time explaining to André exactly what I did and how I had things set up now.
André didn’t say a word while I talked. After a while, he got up, got the bottle and refilled our glasses. I even told him how I cut myself in on the gambling businesses of the operators I’d killed. That one raised an eyebrow until I told him that all of that was his too.
André nodded his head and then he laughed. “I heard all about that.”
I knew he would and that’s why I told him.
“I was just waiting to see if you were going to tell me. That lets me know that my trust in you wasn’t misplaced,” André said as he nodded his head. “Good work, Mike. I never had any doubt that you would be able to pull this shit off.”
“I said that I wouldn’t disappoint you,” I said.
“And what did I say to that?” André took a sip of his drink. “I said that I knew you wouldn’t, because you never do. I know that I can always depend on you to do what needs to be done.” And then he laughed. “Drink up, Mike. I’m a man of my word. You and me are partners in this shit now,” he said, and we drained our glasses.
I sat in the office with André, drinking liquor and talking about the future. The future I created for us until the bottle was empty. I was just about to leave when there was a knock at the door. “Get that for me, Mike.”
When I got up and opened the door, Ricky came in with a metal briefcase. He sat it on the desk in front of André and opened it in front of him. It contained eight kilos of cocaine. André took one out, got his knife out of the drawer and sliced one open. He stuck the knife in and then he tasted it.
“That’s quality.” He looked at Ricky. “You test it?”
He nodded his head. “Came up pure, just like the man said it would be.”
“I know you two got shit to do, so I’m out,” I said and started for the door.
“Hold up, Mike,” André said. “Take some of this with you.”
“You know that ain’t my thing.”
“I know that, nigga. But I know you and Bobby like freakin’ them coke hoes with it. The shit is pure, so make sure you put a cut on it,” he said and then he chipped a chunk of that pure off the block, bagged it and handed it to me. “Holla at me tomorrow.”
I put the bag in my pocket, left the office and went out in the club looking around for Bobby. I asked around and one of the dancers told me that Bobby was waiting for me in the VIP room. “Thanks.”
When I got in there, Bobby was in there with three women. Two were dancing for him, and the other was sucking his dick.
“Took you long enough,” he said, and I sat down next to him. “I was about to get my gun and go check on you.”
“As soon as she finished, right?”
“Right. I guess everything is lovely and André is happier than a sissy in boy’s town.”
“You should have seen the smile on his face when he opened the briefcase.”
“You want me to pour you a drink, Black?” one of the dancers asked, while the other one sat on my lap and began grinding her big ass on me.
“Go ahead.”
After we left there, me and Bobby went back to The Late Night and we hung out with Nick, Jamaica and Freeze, getting fucked up off liquor and weed. Talking shit, dancing and fuckin’ around with the ladies.
We were all having a good time, celebrating our new family and the new world that we were the rulers of. The world was truly ours.
It was nine o’clock in the morning when I got home, and I was so fucked up that I couldn’t make it any farther than the couch. But despite that fact, I was going to roll a bob and have another drink. I reached in my pocket and instead of weed; I pulled out the bag of pure that André had given me. I thought about putting a cut on it, but I was too fucked up for that. So I tossed the bag on the coffee table and I crashed on the couch. I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but when I woke up, Vickie came in.
We talked for a little while and then I passed out again. When I woke up, I decided to get in the bed, but the door to my room was locked. I knocked on the door, but Vickie didn’t answer.
The End of Hostile Takeover
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The Story Continues: In Blackest Night
The Mike Black Saga Continues in: The Model and The Madam
