Money Is King: The Complete Series

by Nicety

  The adrenaline rushing through my veins would not allow this nigga to step out the door just like that and think he was big shit over me. The lump in my throat would not go down no matter how hard I swallowed leaving my words inescapable. It felt as though my body was frozen in time but everything else around me was moving and living just as they normally would. But I wasn’t frozen in time. I was actually running towards the kitchen to the counter where the wooden knife block sat.

  I could not see anything past them walking towards the door even though my body was moving faster any of theirs. Nothing else around me mattered. Nothing else seemed to be in focus but the sight of Cesar’s dark brown face looking down at the doorknob. I wanted to knock him to the ground and watch his body squirm for life like a fish fresh out of water. I wanted to see him flap around like an injured bird with barely any working wings. He deserved to feel pain, not just any pain though. It needed to be pain beyond his wildest measure.

  “ARGH! Die motherfucka!” I yelled as I rushed towards Cesar aiming for a sweet spot open on his neck.

  I was prepared, prepared to deal with him and then deal with my witnesses too. I was prepared to go on the run and live my life on the lamb. No more were people going to laugh at me and take me for the fucking joke they thought I was. In the blink of an eye, my mind had snapped yet again. Lessons needed to be taught and the only way that would happen is if I was the teacher.

  Cesar reached his hand around struggling to save his own life as I frantically stabbed away at his neck. I was like a wild child, relentless and hell bent on seeing his blood splatter all on the floor in spouts. At this point, I didn’t even know what the hell CJ and my mom was doing. All I knew was that this big strong nigga was putting up one hell of a fight. I kneed him in the very dick I just had in my mouth not to long ago to break his ass down. It didn’t seem to faze him like he was wearing a cup or something.

  FUCK!

  Stunned. It was unbelievable. The knife and I were still connected yet we were on the floor a few feet away from Cesar near the kitchen entrance. I sat up holding my head wondering how the hell I had gotten over there. The throbbing on my cheek began to pound like a stampede sending the message of what had just happened. A man so upstanding, so true to his beloved values, knocked a woman on her ass and nearly into the other room. It only elevated my hatred for the nigga. I was done with my love and hate relationship with my so-called baby’s daddy. At this point, I could only wrap my head around my hatred for him.

  “You son of a bitch! You hit me in my fucking face.” I breathed feeling my boiling point rise.

  “Man Mink, you’ve truly lost your damn mind.” Cesar responded shaking his head at me. “Momma Pearl I just want to apologize to you for hitting your daughter. I didn’t mean or want for you to see that but she brought it on herself as you can see.”

  “Awe hell, Shit, somebody ought to do it. Better it be the strong arm of a man than the strong arm of God.” Momma said leaning back on the couch staring up at the ceiling. “Lord knows I don’t know how she got so damn evil.”

  “Nice example you setting for your son. Then you expect me to leave him in your care? Bitch please.” Cesar said placing his hand back on the doorknob.

  CJ kissed momma goodbye and rose from her side on the couch. He looked around hoping all of the commotion was over before he walked out of the door. His backpack was neatly strapped around him as he kneeled to pick up the handle to his rollaway back as well. I stared back at him as he stared down at me looking like it was the last time we would ever speak again.

  Tears flowed from my eyes unintentionally. At least that’s what I thought. They streamed from my eyes down my soft chubby cheeks and onto the floor in a line one right after the other. It was my last attempt at sympathy from anybody but more importantly from my son. I wanted him to realize that I was not in my right frame of mind when we had our altercation in the room earlier. He needed to know that mothers and sons went threw rough patches like that and it didn’t mean anything at the end of the day.

  But as he took his eyes off of me shifting them onto Cesar’s, all I could feel emanating from him was hatred. Cesar grabbed his rollaway bag from him as he held the door open for him to go out. CJ turned to look back at my pitifulness draped on the floor. I knew he had changed his mind. My tears had impacted him at the very last minute and I knew he was about to come running back into my arms just as he should.

  “Bye, momma.” CJ said in a low tone.

  In a split second, I blanked out. Darkness filled my eyelids and ultimately my mind then my heart. It seemed like it went on for months, years even. When I finally came to, I was sitting in the same spot but my hearing was nonexistent. I could only see in increments what was happening before me. Everybody’s mouths were moving, seeming as though they were loud enough for the next country to hear them but they didn’t seem to make not even the faintest of sounds. I blinked my eyes once and realized someone was lying on the floor as I took a deep breath and blinked my eyes again. That’s when I realized that my hands were empty.

  Chapter 12— Lasha

  It felt like we were on the road for hours taking an interstate trip. No words were spoken and the only movements shown were that of Yolo’s hands steering the wheel of the car. I didn't even ask where he was taking me or where we were going. None of it mattered since it would be his final resting place anyway. Every so often, I would look over into his face to see if he was showing any remorse or signs of depression. He was stone cold solid like a block of ice.

  "You know when you marry someone, you think that's the person you're gonna be with for the rest of your life. You could go through all the bullshit in the world but divorce...divorce would never be an issue." He spat as if he was trying to spark up a conversation.

  “I’m sure. So why didn’t you stay there with your wife?”

  “Because,” Yolo paused taking a long deep breath. “There’s nothing left that I can do for her.”

  For a second there, I thought massive amounts of tears were about to flow from his beady little eyes. He didn’t seem like the crying type but his voice was so choked up whenever he spoke of her that I knew if this nigga showed me weakness, killing him would be in the bag. I was sorry that Flava was gone but in all honesty being dead was better than being alive and living a lie. Any life she had with this coward was undoubtedly that.

  Looking over at him for a third time, I saw that his eyes yielded no tears. He was doing a damn good job of holding his emotions back. A trait I underestimated about him. It was in my interest to keep him weak, vulnerable at all times and I knew just how to keep him subdued in his sadness.

  “You could have stayed at the hospital and mourned her. My papa always said that my mother’s spirit lingered on in our house to watch over us and make sure we were making the right decisions.” I paused staring out the window at the fields outside the expressway. “Perhaps, Flava was watching, waiting to see if you would mourn her. Maybe she witnessed you rush out of the room with me.”

  “I don’t believe in that ghost shit. Once the body is gone, that’s it. Ain’t no more nothing. You’re just dead and no one or nothing changing that.” He replied sternly.

  “I can see where you might feel that. So I take it you are not a man of any faith.”

  “No. My father was Catholic and tried to raise me in the church but after he died of a heroin overdose, I knew there was no God. His eyes were open and glossed over when I found him. It looked like he had never had a soul. From then on, I’ve stopped believing in anything.”

  “Oh. Heroin, huh?” I replied in a solemn tone.

  “Yeah. I was six. That’s when my moms met my stepfather who introduced me to the game and I’ve been hooked on fast money ever since.” He replied licking his lips as if he were preparing to devour a delicious meal.

  “All money ain’t good money.”

  “Whoever said that bullshit stayed broke. Money is the ruler of everything. It pays for you to ride in this car,
wear those clothes and basically live your life. Face it baby doll. Money is king of the fucking universe in any form or fashion.” Yolo sneered never taking his eyes off the road.

  “Money doesn’t rule me. It’s lifeless and soulless. I control it, not the other way around. Educated people who aren’t greedy know that.” I slyly replied.

  “Tsk, tsk. Still thinking like your father, I see. He was a stubborn old fool and will likely die one too.” Yolo laughed almost too heavily at my father’s expense.

  I wanted to reach over and hit his ass dead in the Adam’s apple and watch his teeth click while his eyes bulged. If it weren’t for the fact that he was driving I might have. Furthermore, a quick and easy car accident was too good of a way for him to lose his life. An asshole like him did not deserve to go out painless. No he needed something that would cause him a slow painful end. One that he would feel every bit of until his heart stopped beating and he took his last breath.

  Patiently, I gritted my teeth and remained silent for the rest of the ride. Keeping him in a grieving state of mind was not working and he only countered everything I said with pissing me off about my papa. Being silent was the best approach. A few minutes later we pulled up in back of Passions with sunlight beating down displaying every single nook and cranny of the building. I studied it, making sure to remember everything I could so that once I left him stinking in his own pool of blood getting in the wind would be a breeze. I even paid attention to what pocket little asshole slid the car keys in.

  Yolo exited the car pulling a .357 out from under his seat slamming his door behind him. He was so pissed, he damn near shattered the glass leaving me stuck watching as the glass discreetly tingled as if it would. Focusing my attention quickly back on him, I noticed he seemed to march around the front of the car like an almost humpback soldier. His eyes were menacing letting me know they were on a mission and the gun he totted in his right hand was readily visible. I guess that shit was supposed to be used to scare me.

  “Get the fuck out my car.” He scowled as he opened the door for me.

  “Some gentleman.” I grumbled as I exited per his directions.

  “Let’s go. If you try anything stupid you can about guarantee a bullet in your ass and trust me when I say I ain’t playing.”

  “Yolo, no one’s out here. We’re practically in the middle of the fucking country for Christ’s sake. Who would hear me? Where would I run for help?” I laughed as I walked ahead of him turning my back.

  “Bitch, Do you want me to shoot your ass? You need to watch your mouth when you got a gun up to it. Ya understand? Not too bright for an ex-lawyer’s daughter.” He said shoving me closer to the back entrance.

  He fumbled through the keys before opening it up and shoving me once more inside as if he needed to prove a point to himself. He for damn sure wasn’t proving it to me by pushing me. But I digress. As soon as I had what I needed in sight his ass was finished. The funny part about was that he thought he had the upper hand. This muthafucka really thought he had a hold on me; trembling and petrified.

  “What the fuck are we doing here, Yolo?” I said looking around at the semi-dark club furniture and dimly lit c-shaped bar.

  “You just walk your ass to the back and up those stairs with your fucking mouth shut.” Yolo replied waving the gun in the direction of the stairwell.

  As I followed his instructions, I slowly took out my phone careful not to show it in his direction. Aside from the bar lights it was dark so the only way he would have seen it was it reflected off those lights. I made sure to keep it tucked away, turning on the voice recorder app before tucking it down back deep into my jeans pocket. I wanted to get every piece of information out of him as I could to give to papa. His business had been crumbling for years because of Yolo but after today all of that would definitely change.

  “Sit down.” He said pointing to the couch next to the door as we entered his office. “You’ve got some nerve coming around here like you didn’t know who I was. I may forget a name but I always remember a face. So why are you in the states?”

  “Living my life. Why are you in the states? Too afraid to keep the business you stole in Mexico because you didn’t want to keep looking over your shoulder wondering if and when my papa would hunt you down and murder you?” I replied with a smirk.

  “You think you’re funny don’t you?”

  “No. That was an honest question, Yolo.”

  “Your daddy is a motherfucking soon to be broke fool. Had he listened to me like I said in the first place he would be a fucking billionaire by now. Instead he’s penny pinching his businesses—“

  “Yes the business that you stole! You took documents when you left him. Papers to all his connects and his Swiss bank account. Where is it all? Where is my papa’s money, Yolo?” I roared.

  “What? You not about to be questioning me on my shit. Whatever I have it’s mine.” He replied setting his gun down on the counter.

  Yolo placed his hands on top of the desk like he was waiting on me to charge his ass and begin the rumble. I was no fool though. Because he was waiting on me I knew the element of surprise would be best for him. If he saw me coming at any given time, I would be dead before I could swallow my spit. Anything hasty would for sure put me in the ground without even so much as a send off package. I could tell that his blood boiled over the words riddled in my question. It made me tickle just a little inside to see him so fucked up off his square.

  "Maybe if you tell me where my papa's money is I'll let you breathe long enough to bury your dear sweet wife." I snorted crossing my legs. "But not long enough to collect on her life insurance."

  "Now you're getting ahead of yourself. You have nothing sweetheart. Where's your banger? You gonna need to bring more than a knife to a gun fight in order to take this big ass bear down." Yolo scoffed squinting his eyes my way as a form of intimidation.

  “What makes you think I need those things to end your life?” I asked rising up from my seat.

  I headed towards him waiting on him to lift his piece up off the desk. If he was a coward he would shoot me cold dead right between the eyes and let my body rock the floor. But if he were a man of integrity he would wait to see just how I planned to pull his death off without the use of a gun or knife. He smirked as I neared him.

  “You think you can kill me empty handed? You think you’re that damned good? All of your training and teachings won’t prepare you for what the fuck I got for you baby.” He chuckled rising from his seat standing toe to toe with me.

  I blew a kiss to his lips and sent a quick wink sending the message that I was far from scared and as my head quickly veered to the left just missing the impact of his fist, I had to admit I was a little angry that he had taken the first swing before I had the chance to. He wrapped his other big burly ass arm around my neck so that I couldn’t move or run attempting to take another blow to my face. His slow ass.

  I kneed him royally right in his pathetic excuse for a dick and eased around his grip whipping around to his backside. Like any man he kneeled over cuffing his genitals in his hands for relief. Yolo reached around hoping to grab me by the back of the neck and throw me down to the ground but instead I brought my knee up as high as it go kicking him like a wild bull in a fight. The monstrous kick to his lower back sent him to his knees and breathing heavily.

  “Bitch, when I catch you I swear I’m gon’ kill you!” He scoffed trying to regain his composure enough to fight back.

  “Yeah well we’ll see about that.” I taunted.

  I was winning and it felt damn good. The small wooden elephant figurine on his desk fit nicely in my hand when I grabbed it securing it tightly. My fists clenched and while he was still struggling to get to his feet, one by one I delivered blow after blow to his face. He had one blow coming at him in full force with his own damn figurine and another with the strength behind me. His face began to look like a punching bag, that’s how fast I felt I was riddling his mug with knocks. My arms were tired but
I was not. I couldn’t see myself giving up not with all the anger built up inside of me for this man.

  Blood spewed from out of his face and over onto the wall aside him. His eyes were once closed and then they opened, just opened like my blows were not affecting him anymore. He rose to his feet like he was a giant God rising up out of the sea to exact vengeance upon his people. Except there were no people there was only me. I tried to kick him again but he blocked it. I tried punching him in his stomach as hard as I could, hoping to punch chunks up out of his ass and watch them fly around the room. But nothing I did stopped him from making it to his feet planting them firmly on the ground.

  Nervousness overtook me. I was shaking like a two-dollar whore on a cold Chicago street corner in the middle of November. My arms grew weak and just as I dropped them to my sides trying to quickly think of a master plan, I looked up into his eyes noticing something in him had changed. Something in his eyes was trying to tell me that I needed to think of a way to break his ass down fast before I missed my window of victory. The gun. I side eyed it wondering if he was now thinking the same thing. I was closer to the desk than he was and I was also much quicker and slender than he. I had the speed and agility to get to it before he did and blast his ass to kingdom come.