by Roy Glenn
Travis reached under the passenger seat, grabbed his gun and stepped out of the car. Since he was determined to do this, he briefly considered coming back with Ronnie, or Jackie and Ronnie. But there was no point in involving them in this. They would think it was stupid, and they would be right.
Travis walked inside and took a look around. It occurred to him that he had no idea what Chilly looked like, and just asking for him might not get him anywhere. From the stares that he was getting, Travis could tell that he didn’t belong there. If that was the case, he knew somebody would approach him soon enough and ask him what he was doing there.
He stepped to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender looked at him like he was crazy and walked away.
“Something I can get for you?” asked a voice from behind Travis. He turned around to find three men standing in back of him. One held a gun in his hand. The other two had theirs in their waistbands.
“I’m looking for Chilly,” Travis said.
“Who?”
“I’m a friend of Bruce Lawrence and I’m looking for Chilly.”
“No, you a stupid muthafucka with a death wish,” the one with the gun said as he put it to Travis’s head. “Search him.”
Travis was relieved of his weapon and took a fist to the stomach. The blow caught him off guard and knocked the wind out of him, but it didn’t really hurt. Travis was running on adrenaline now. The two men grabbed him by the arms, in case he thought about doing something about the punch.
“What you wanna see Chilly about?”
“I wanna talk to him.”
“About what?”
“About Bruce.”
“What about Bruce?”
“Are you Chilly?”
“No.”
“Then it ain’t your business,” Travis said. He suddenly realized how foolish this was. The smart-ass answer cost Travis two more shots to the gut; he felt the butt of a gun hit his mouth.
That hurt.
While the beating continued, a crowd formed around them. One man forced his way thought the crowd. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?”
“This mutha fucka says he wants to see Chilly, Rocky.”
“Who is he and what he wanna see Chilly for?” Rocky asked.
“He said he’s a friend of Bruce Lawrence.”
“No shit. I didn’t think Bruce had any friends,” Rocky said and slapped Travis in the face.
“Who is this nigga?” someone asked behind Rocky.
Rocky turned around to find Chilly and Derrick standing behind him. “He says he’s a friend of Bruce. Wants to talk to you.”
Travis turned up his bloody face and saw Chilly standing before him. Chilly looked at Travis and shook his head. “You must be a friend of Bruce, ’cause you really are a stupid muthafucka. You walk up in here by yourself, wanna talk to me about another stupid muthafucka.” Chilly looked at Rocky. “He don’t wanna talk to me, he wanna die.”
“Hold up, Rock. Chilly, let me talk to you for a second,” Derrick said and stepped closer to Chilly. “I seen this nigga before.”
“Where?”
“He’s with Freeze.”
“Freeze? You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Chilly looked at Travis again. “You don’t want nothing from me.”
“I wanna know what happened to Bruce,” Travis said and Rocky punched him in the face.
“Nobody asked you to talk.”
“Whatever went on with Bruce ain’t none of your business. Get him out of here,” Chilly said and walked away.
Derrick followed behind Chilly. “Don’t kill him. Just take him out back.”
Travis was taken to the back door of the club and thrown out into the back alley. He picked himself up from the pile of trash he landed in and thought, that didn’t go well at all. As he walked away, he realized that it had gone the only way it could have. It was stupid for him to walk up in there in the first place. And coming alone was worse. What were you expecting, a nice sit-down conversation?
Back inside The Spot, Chilly sat down at a table and pulled out his cell phone to call Freeze.
“Yo.”
“Freeze, this Chilly.”
“What’s up?”
“You send one of your people over here to ask me some shit about how I run my business?”
“No,” Freeze answered, knowing he meant Travis. “I didn’t send him. And you know better than to ask me some shit like that.”
“He with you?”
“Yeah, he’s with me, so I hope you respected that.”
“He’s still alive. But he got educated while he was here.”
“I can respect that.”
“Who is this nigga, anyway?”
“He’s a friend of Bruce’s sister.”
Chilly laughed. “I’m beginning to understand this shit now. She’s a bad bitch, and bad bitches make niggas do stupid shit.”
Freeze laughed. “I told him to stay out of your business. But I should have told him that I would handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“I heard that he owed you money and you sent someone to collect.”
“What about that is any of your business?”
“It ain’t. Whoever you sent raped his daughter.”
“Freeze, word is bond, I didn’t know anything about that. Raped little Brandy?” Chilly thought for a second. “Well, I guess by now she ain’t no little girl.”
“That’s still some fucked up shit,” Freeze said. “I know that ain’t how you do business. I know you got more honor than that, and I assured Travis of that. But like you said, bad bitches make smart men do stupid shit. So, I apologize for his disrespect, but I do ask that you do something about that situation.”
“You have my word,” Chilly said as Derrick tapped him on the shoulder. Chilly looked up and noticed that Detectives Kirkland and Richards were standing in front of him. “I’ll get with you, later about that. The police are here,” Chilly said and hung up the phone.
Chapter Thirty-six
“I didn’t mean to rush you off the phone, Chilly,” Detective Kirkland said.
“That’s all right, Kirk. I always got time to talk to you,” Chilly said.
“You mind if we sit down?” Kirk asked as he sat down.
“Have a seat, Kirk. Can I get you a drink?”
“No,” Detective Richards said. “We’re on duty.”
“Shit, I know plenty of cops that drink on duty. Y’all stick around, you might see one or two of them. But enough of this small talk. What y’all want?”
“What do you think, Chilly? I wanna talk to you.” Kirk dropped a picture on the table in front of Chilly. “You know this man?”
Chilly picked up the picture and looked at it carefully. “I know this guy. His name is-” Chilly snapped his fingers. “Let me think. What’s his name?”
“Bruce Lawrence,” Richards said.
“That’s right, Bruce Lawrence. He used to work at the bank where my wife does business. If I’m not mistaken, he got fired from there years ago for stealing.”
“I heard that he works for you, Chilly,” Kirkland asserted.
“Doin’ what?”
“The way I get it, Chilly, is that Lawrence worked for you and he owed you money,” Kirkland said.
Detective Richards picked up the picture and left the table. He began walking around The Spot, showing the picture around.
“He was found dead in his home a few days ago. The house was torn up, like somebody was looking for something,” Kirk continued.
“So what are you saying, Kirk?”
“I haven’t done anything but state the facts in the case. I’m definitely not sayin’ that you had him killed. If I was sayin’ that, you’d have cuffs on. I just wanna know what you know.”
“Kirk, let’s stop this shit. You know who I am and you know what I do. Yeah, I know Bruce, and I told you from where I know him. You know that bitch nigga didn’t work for me. So, what we doing here?”
<
br /> Kirk laughed. “Okay, Chilly, let’s cut the bullshit. I know the weasel didn’t work for you. Couldn’t. He just ain’t the type. But he was murdered along with his wife. Killers raped his wife before they killed her, and they raped a sixteen-year-old girl.
“I know rape ain’t your style, Chilly, so I don’t believe you’re involved. This Lawrence guy is more likely a user, so I’m thinking that maybe he owed one of your people. They went to collect, things got out of hand and shit happened. Like I said, I just wanna know what you know.”
Chilly sat back and looked at Derrick then back to Kirk. “I hear what you’re sayin’, Kirk.”
“I don’t think you do,” Kirk said, looking around the room to see where his partner was. “I don’t give a fuck if you animals kill each other off by the thousands. Shit, you muthafuckas can all line up against that wall right now and I’ll shoot you fucks myself. You’re all scum, selling death to your own people. You all need to die a slow and painful death, just like the one you’re dealin’ to them. So fuck you, fuck all of you to hell. But when you animals start raping little girls, see, that’s different. I want this guy, Chilly. Follow me now?”
“I think you made yourself clear, Kirk.” Chilly leaned toward him. “And whether you believe it or not, I think a line has been crossed too.”
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Kirk stood up. “So understand this: if I don’t get this guy, and I mean get him soon, shit is gonna get real ugly for you.” Kirk walked away, collected Detective Richards and left The Spot.
As soon as the detectives were out the door, Chilly turned to Derrick. “First that asshole, now Kirk. Where the fuck is Rocky?” Derrick got up right away and came back quickly with Rocky. “Rock, did you send somebody to collect from Bruce?”
“Yeah,” Rocky said quietly.
“You’re tryin’ my fuckin’ patience, Rock. Who the fuck did you send?”
“I sent Miller.”
“Who?”
“Warren Miller. You know Warren. He’s the one they call the ugliest nigger in the world.”
Chilly laughed. “You sent that crazy-ass crackhead to collect my money?”
“He does good work.”
“Where’s the fuckin’ money then?”
“I haven’t heard from him, so I didn’t think he got it,” Rocky told Chilly.
“Well, that asshole y’all just carried out of here and fuckin’ Kirk being in here up in my face about it says that he did. Did you know that muthafucka raped a sixteen-year-old girl?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“So, you find this nigga and bring me his head.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
After a ride that felt longer than it really was, Travis parked his car in front of his house. By now, his face was throbbing and every bone in his body hurt. He opened the car door slowly and gingerly stepped out. After a quick scan of the block for Me’shelle’s car, Travis moved toward the house, holding his back and walking like Fred Sanford.
The house was in darkness when he entered. Having not seen her car, Travis assumed that Me’shelle had gone home. He made it to the bathroom and turned on the light. “Damn,” Travis said out loud when he saw his face.
“Oh my God.”
Travis turned quickly and saw that Me’shelle was standing behind him.
“What happened to you?”
“I went to see if I could find out what happened with your family. You’re looking at the answers I got.”
“You didn’t go by yourself, did you?”
Travis nodded.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m okay, but every bone in my body hurts.”
“And what is that smell?”
“After they kicked my ass, they threw me in a pile of garbage.”
Me’shelle went to the bathtub and turned on the water. “Come on. You need to soak for a while,” she said as she began to undress him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask me to go there and get my ass kicked. I did that all by myself.”
“I know, but you did it for me. And I did kind of hint at the fact that you knew people who probably knew who did it,” Me’shelle said.
Once she had gotten Travis out of his clothes, she helped him into the tub. She left him there to soak while she put his dirty clothes in the washing machine and got an ice pack for his face. When she returned to the bathroom, Me’shelle knelt down next to the tub and put the ice pack gently on Travis’s face. There was quite a bit of swelling around his left eye and jaw.
“Hold that,” she said, handing the ice pack to him.
She never intended for this to happen. Me’shelle looked at his face and felt terrible. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that Travis would get right up and go after Chilly, and definitely not by himself. What if they had killed him? That would mean another death that Me’shelle would have on her conscience.
“I’m sorry, Travis.” She began to bathe him, but found that her clothes were getting too wet, so she stood up and took them off. She got into the tub and continued to wash away the smell of garbage from his body.
Now that he was feeling clean and somewhat refreshed, Travis stretched out across his bed to relax. Me’shelle lay down beside him, and before too long, they had drifted off to sleep. They had been asleep for about an hour when Travis heard the doorbell. He glanced at the clock next to the bed.
“Twelve forty-five. Who the fuck could this be?”
He got out of bed, put on his pants and got his gun. His movements woke Me’shelle. “Where are you going?”
“There’s somebody at the door,” Travis said.
“What’s the gun for?”
“Security.” He took off the safety and cocked it. “Stay here.”
As Travis left the room to answer the door, Me’shelle thought, maybe for the first time in her life, that she needed a gun. She had never held a gun in her hand, much less fired one. But suppose they come after me?Suppose it’s them at the door? Suppose they shoot Travis at the door and then come after me?What then? Travis should have left me a gun.
She got out of bed and got dressed, thinking that if she needed to run or fight somebody off it would be better to have clothes on. Once she was dressed, Me’shelle cracked the door so she could hear what was going on out there.
Travis looked out the peephole and saw a familiar but unexpected face at his door. He opened the door.
“What’s up, Freeze?”
“What’s up? You gonna invite me in or what?” Freeze asked.
“Come on in,” Travis said as he let him into the house. “Have a seat.”
“You alone?” Freeze asked.
“No. Me’shelle is in the back.”
Freeze didn’t bother to sit down. “What the fuck was you thinkin’ rollin’ up on Chilly like that?” he demanded to know.
“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinkin’.”
“Yes, you were. You were thinkin’ like a bitch-ass sucker.”
“It was a stupid thing to do.”
“What did you think they were gonna do, pull out a chair for you, and y’all sit down like a bunch of fuckin’ gentlemen and discuss the situation? Do you think they were gonna just say yeah, we raped the girl and we’re gonna turn ourselves in to the police in the morning? Is that what you fuckin’ thought, Travis?”
“No.”
“You know the only reason you’re alive?”
“What’s that?”
“They knew you was with me. That’s the only reason you ain’t dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I get a fuckin’ call from Chilly asking me if I sent you. I shoulda known better. I shoulda known you were goin’ over there. Now look at you. Face all fucked up. Any broken bones?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you realize the position that puts me in?”
“You? What position does it put you in?”
“You’re w
ith me, Travis, which means you come under my protection. Chilly is old school, so he respects that, which is why he didn’t kill you for tryin’ to involve yourself in his business. But them niggas still beat the fuck outta you. I’m supposed to do something about it. I don’t do something about this, niggas start thinkin’ I’m gettin’ soft and they can come at any one of my people. Do you understand what I’m sayin’? Niggas thinking I’m soft is bad for business.”
“I wasn’t thinkin’ about all that.”
“No, you weren’t. Shit, Travis, I oughta shoot you myself.”
At that point, Me’shelle had heard enough. She came out of the room.
“Is that why you’re here? To kill me?”
They both looked up as Me’shelle came into the room.
“No. That’s not why I’m here,” Freeze said.
“I told you to stay in the room,” Travis said to Me’shelle.
“She can stay. I don’t give a fuck if she hears what I have to say. I came here to see how you were doin’. And I came to tell you again to stay out of it. Don’t you go anywhere near Chilly or his people. Let Chilly handle his business. And stay away from the cops.”
“What about my niece? They can’t just rape her and murder my brother and get away with it.”
Freeze looked at Me’shelle then turned his attention back to Travis. “Chilly is the type of man who knows that type of shit is bad for business. You let this shit go, Travis. You let Chilly handle his business and you go back to doin’ what you do. I want your word that this is no longer your problem.”
“You have my word,” Travis told Freeze.
“Wait a minute,” Me’shelle protested, but Freeze ignored her.
“I talked to Chilly, and he gave me his word that he would handle this, so you’re out of it. Now it’s my problem,” Freeze said and stood up. “Shit like this never needs to happen again, Travis. You understand me?”
“I understand.”
Freeze walked toward the door.
