The Fix 2

by K'wan

  “I feel you on that,” Persia said, thinking of her own father who was rotting away in prison.

  “Enough of this sad talk, we’re supposed to be having a good time. Tell me, have you ever been to a fundraiser?” Asia asked, changing the subject.

  “No, this will be my first one.”

  “Excellent.” Asia clapped excitedly. “This should be fun for you, but I’m afraid not so much for me. I’ll be working.”

  “Are you modeling tonight?” Persia asked.

  “No, but I might as well be because I’m sure my mother will be parading me around while annoying men snap pictures and rude women ask me uncomfortable questions,” Asia said in an irritated tone.

  “I don’t know why you sound so bitter about it, Asia. What little girl wouldn’t want to be a famous model?”

  “I’m more notorious than famous, and that’s because of who my mother is and who my father was. In the beginning, I used to love it, but after doing it since I was four years old it’s becoming so bland. Always the same thing, ‘turn this way, walk that way, stand up straight.’” Asia made a dismissive gesture with her hands. “Sometimes I just want to be a regular teenager and not the focal point of every eye in the room.”

  “We’re here, cousin,” Basil said over his shoulder. Persia and Asia had been so deep in conversation that they hadn’t even realized they were in Manhattan already.

  Persia looked out the window at the all the people in front of the venue and the red carpet leading up to the door. Flash bulbs began popping before the Town Car had even come to a complete stop. There were athletes, entertainers all dressed to the nines, waving for the cameras or conducting interviews. All of the city’s elite had come out for the event. Security lined either side of the red carpet, keeping journalists and onlookers at a safe distance from the stars. It was unreal.

  “Are you ready?” Asia asked.

  “As I’ll ever be, I guess,” Persia said nervously.

  “Loosen up, Persia. This is a night of fun and no stress, try to enjoy it. Think of tonight as your coming-out party,” Asia said, throwing on a pair of sunglasses. “Now let’s go and greet our adoring public,” Asia said and flung the door open.

  To say that Persia was overwhelmed by the experience would’ve been an understatement. They had barely made it out of the Town Car before the media swooped in on them. There were flashes from so many different cameras that Persia was temporarily blinded and Asia had to lead her by the hand. Persia now understood why she was wearing sunglasses at night.

  Basil bullied his way through the throng of media personnel and fans, clearing a path for the women. Persia was scared shitless, but Asia took it all in stride, smiling and waving to people like she was the first lady of the United States. She made it all look so effortless. As soon as they got inside, members of security came and whisked them away. Nya had to take her place on the main stage, as the hostess, while Asia was taken to the green room to conduct a few interviews and take some publicity pictures. Asia offered Persia to join her, but Persia declined. She didn’t want to crowd her, so she just agreed to hook up with Asia when she was done.

  Persia stood off to the side, sipping from a crystal glass filled with water, trying her best not to look like a star-stuck teenager, while she eyeballed some of her favorite celebrities. Never in a million years would Persia had thought she’d be partying with the stars of some of her favorite movies and television shows. She had been there less than an hour and it was already one of the best nights of her life, but little did she know things were about to get far more interesting.

  “You know, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were following me,” a voice spoke up behind Persia. She turned, surprised to see Vaughn. He was immaculately dressed in a black tuxedo, with black shoes polished to a high shine.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see here,” Persia said, looking him over. Vaughn looked good enough to eat.

  “Is that a compliment or an insult?” Vaughn asked. His tone suggested that he was offended.

  Persia covered her mouth to hide her embarrassment. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m just teasing you, ma.” Vaughn smiled. “You must have some pretty important friends if you were invited to this joint.”

  “I came with my homegirl.” Persia pointed at Asia, who was doing an interview in front of the backdrop of one of the event’s sponsors.

  “Oh, you’re with Asia?” Vaughn asked in surprise.

  “Yeah, do you know her?” Persia asked, hoping to God Vaughn wasn’t one of Asia’s conquests.

  “Who doesn’t know Asia Sudan? She’s kind of a big deal, ya know, but not as big a deal as you,” Vaughn said with a wink.

  “Here you go, running game again,” Persia said.

  “If you call me keeping it real running game then so be it. I just call it like I see it and the view from here is breathtaking.” Vaughn openly ogled Persia, causing her to blush.

  “Smile, guys.” A photographer popped seemingly out of thin air. Vaughn pulled Persia into a lover’s embrace, and posed for the picture. “Thanks.” The photographer scurried off.

  “What was that all about?” Persia asked, confused.

  “I told you, you’re a big deal. Hey listen, after this is over do you wanna go somewhere and get a real meal? The portions they serve at these things ain’t fit for a kid and I’m sure you’re gonna be hungry when it’s over.”

  “I don’t know, Vaughn, you’re moving kinda fast,” Persia said.

  “Persia, it’s just a meal. You’re acting like I asked for your hand in marriage, that’ll come later.” Vaughn smirked devilishly. “But seriously, Persia, my intentions are nothing but pure. I ain’t trying to crowd you. I just wanna get to know you a little bit. Scout’s honor.” He held three fingers up like the Boy Scouts salute.

  “We’ll see,” Persia told him with a smile.

  Vaughn rubbed his chin. “Not the answer I was looking for, but I’ll take it because it beats you telling me flat out no. I’m making progress.”

  The white girl Persia had seen at the record store walked up. She cut her eyes at Persia as if she was wondering what she was doing there, before turning her attention back to Vaughn, but didn’t bother to speak. She whispered something in Vaughn’s ear, which made him frown. There was a brief exchange between them, before Vaughn finally relented to whatever she was asking.

  “Persia, I hate to dip off but I gotta take care of something real quick,” Vaughn told her. The white girl stood a few paces behind him, with her arms folded like she had an attitude about something.

  “Handle your business. I’m good.” Persia told him.

  “Promise me that you won’t leave until we’ve had a chance to finish our little discussion.”

  “I’m not making any promises, but I can’t leave until Asia and Nya are ready to go anyhow, and from the looks of things they’ll be awhile,” Persia said, glancing over at Nya and Asia who were both on the stage by that point.

  “Fair enough. I’ll see you in a bit,” Vaughn said before allowing the white girl to lead him through the crowd.

  When Nya took the microphone everyone gathered around the stage to hear what she was saying. She went through a scripted speech about bringing awareness to teen suicide and some more stuff that Persia only half listened to. What made her really start paying attention was when Nya announced that they were about to start the celebrity auction. The bids to win a night with the celebrities ranged from as low as $1,000 to as high as $50,000. Persia shook her head at the display of thirst as men and women alike pledged ridiculous amounts of money to keep company with some of the celebrities who volunteered to be auctioned off. She was about to take a bathroom break, until Nya introduced the last celerity to be auctioned off. Her head almost spun around backward when Vaughn was brought onto the stage.

  “Okay, ladies,” Nya began. “I’m going to need you to reach deep in those purses for this fine piece of eye candy.
Some of you may know him from breaking records and hearts as the starting quarterback at Virginia Tech, but come this fall he’ll be giving women and defenses fits on primetime television. So tell me, ladies, how much is it worth to you to spend a night with Philadelphia Eagles rookie quarterback, Vaughn Tate?”

  Persia was stunned. She couldn’t move, nor speak. All this time she had been treating Vaughn like a pauper and he was really a prince. She felt like such a fool. Persia was so embarrassed that she wanted to crawl under a rock and die, but since a rock wasn’t available she slipped out the back door. She felt bad about dipping out on Asia and Nya after they had shown her so much hospitality, but she would make it up to them at another time. All she was focused on at that moment was jumping in a cab and going home.

  CHAPTER 18

  Roughly two hours after leaving three corpses on the Avenue, Li’l Monk was showered, changed, and back on the streets as if nothing had ever happened. He had traded his bloodied black hoodie for a fresh gray one and blue jeans. He and Omega made it a point to always keep a spare outfit or two at each other’s houses. They were always in the mix so you never could tell when they would have to make a quick change, much like that night.

  The whole time Li’l Monk was getting ready, he replayed the series of events over in his head trying to make sense of them. Being down with Pharaoh made them all targets to enemies both known and unknown, but the strip was their save haven. Within those few blocks of territory they had always felt safe. No one would dare come into the heart of Pharaoh’s empire and try something stupid, or so he thought. The fact that they had almost been whacked on their own block said different.

  The three Spanish chicks coming through and trying to take them out was no random occurrence. They were specifically targeting for members of Ramses’s street crew, but the question remained, why? Li’l Monk was certain that the blonde had been about to reveal something important before Omega had killed her, sending whatever secrets she was keeping to the grave with her. This bothered Li’l Monk, not because he didn’t think Omega was capable of killing, but because he was usually the one who tried to avoid bloodshed when necessary. It wasn’t like him to just commit coldblooded murder.

  In truth, Omega had been acting strange for the past couple of weeks. He wasn’t his normal happy-go-lucky self. Lately he had been especially irritable and quick to anger. Li’l Monk initially attributed it to the extra responsibilities Ramses had placed upon him. With Benny dead and Chucky a fugitive, Ramses leaned more heavily on Omega to handle the day-to-day operations of their businesses in West Harlem. Since Li’l Monk also had to take on extra responsibilities he could definitely understand Omega being affected by the added job stress, but it felt like there was something deeper that was causing the changes in his friend. Maybe he was becoming power drunk with his new position or even possibly beginning to crack under the added pressure. Li’l Monk wasn’t sure what it was, but something felt off and the way he had shot that girl added to Li’l Monk’s suspicions.

  The designated meeting area was a steak house on Fifty-seventh Street. Li’l Monk had been there several times, as it was one of Ramses’s favorite places to eat as well as talk business. At that hour the restaurant was closed to the public, but not to Ramses.

  When Li’l Monk and Omega arrived at the spot there was a small gathering of men in front of the joint. Some of them they recognized as a part of their organization, but the white dudes they didn’t know. They wore jogging suits with gold chains and had heavily gelled hair. They were stereotypical Italians. This struck Li’l Monk as odd, because for as long as he had been working for Ramses he rarely saw him deal with white people at all, and here was a group of them congregating outside the restaurant.

  Li’l Monk led the way toward the entrance of the restaurant. To his surprise and amusement, one of the Italians moved to cut him off. He was a bear of a man, whose jogging suit looked a half size too small.

  “Something I can help you with?” Li’l Monk looked him up and down.

  “Gotta check you for weapons before I let you pass,” the Italian bear told him.

  “Homeboy, if you put your hands on me I’m going to break them,” Li’l Monk growled. He had been having a shitty day and didn’t have time for foolishness. He had expected the warning to be enough to persuade the bear to step aside, but it wasn’t. He held his ground, ready to challenge Li’l Monk. Before the situation could escalate, Huck appeared in the doorway.

  “Nah, they’re good,” Huck told the bear. The bear gave Li’l Monk one last hard look before stepping aside to let him pass. “Sorry about that.” Huck greeted Li’l Monk and Omega with handshakes.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” Li’l Monk asked.

  “Difficult times we’re in so everybody is a little bit on edge,” Huck explained.

  “Tell me about it,” Li’l Monk said, thinking of the attempt on his and Omega’s lives earlier.

  “Come on in the back. Ramses is waiting for you.” Huck led them inside.

  Li’l Monk and Omega made their way through the empty dining tables to the private booth that Ramses kept on reserve in the back of the restaurant. As they got closer they saw that Ramses wasn’t alone. Standing next to him, just outside the booth was King Tut. When he and Li’l Monk locked eyes you could instantly feel the spark of hostility that passed between them.

  Sitting across from Ramses was a handsome Italian with dark skin and wavy black hair. The salmon-colored suit he wore clung to his body perfectly as if it had been created just for him. When they Italian noticed Huck leading the two young black kids to the back, he abruptly stopped ended whatever conversation he and Ramses had been having.

  When Ramses spotted Li’l Monk and Omega he waved them over. “About time you two got here,” he said in the way of a greeting.

  “We got held up in traffic,” Li’l Monk said sarcastically, which got him a serious look from Ramses. He was obviously in no mood for jokes.

  “Boys, this is Frank Donatello,” Ramses introduced them to the Italian.

  The Italian didn’t bother to try to shake hands, instead offering a simple nod in greeting. “My friends call me Frankie the Fish.”

  “You want me to pull up some extra chairs?” Huck asked Ramses.

  “Nah, Frankie was just leaving,” Ramses told him.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a few more people to see before I can turn in for the night. Thanks for the meal and your time.” Frankie shook hands with Ramses before standing to leave.

  “Anytime, Frankie. I look forward to a prosperous working relationship between our two families,” Ramses said.

  “As do I. Maybe next time Pharaoh will see fit to sit down with us. I’m not used to doing business with people who I have not looked in the eyes,” Frankie told him.

  “My apologies for that, but Pharaoh has been extremely busy lately. I can assure you that I am authorized to speak for him in these matters though.”

  “I guess your word will be good enough, for now,” Frankie said. He picked his salmon-colored fedora off the seat and placed it on his head, running his finger across the brim. “I guess I’ll leave you boys to it. Nice meeting you fellas.” Frankie tipped the brim of his hat to Omega and Li’l Monk and left the restaurant.

  “Sit down you two,” Ramses told Omega and Li’l Monk. They slid into the booth on the opposite side of Ramses and Tut. “Y’all been with me long enough to know how much I hate being kept waiting. What were you doing that was important that you couldn’t come immediately when I called for you?”

  “Sorry about that, but we were busy trying to keep our heads from getting blown off,” Li’l Monk told him then went on to tell the story about the chicks who had rolled through the block. He didn’t miss the look that passed between Omega and Tut when he got to the part of the story about them being a carful of Spanish broads.

  “Any idea who sent them?” Ramses asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.

  “No, we never got a chance to find out.�
� Li’l Monk cut his eyes at Omega. He would never throw his partner under the bus, but he didn’t try to hide his displeasure.

  Ramses shook his head. “Wolves at our front and back doors. I’ll get some people to look into it, but that’ll have to wait. I got some other shit I need y’all to handle, but first, what’s this business between you and Tut?”

  Li’l Monk shrugged. “Ain’t no business between me and Tut. One of his boys came through talking reckless so I had to discipline him.”

  “You call putting a man in intensive care because you broke a half dozen of his bones discipline?” Tut asked heatedly.

  “At least I didn’t kill him. Be thankful for the small blessings,” Li’l Monk said sarcastically.

  “I got a blessing for you.” Tut shot to his feet and Li’l Monk was immediately on his.

  “Do I have to have Huck put the both of you on time-out?” Ramses looked from Li’l Monk to Tut. Just a look from him was enough to get them to both wisely retake their seats. “It’s bad enough that we’re beefing with niggas in the streets. I don’t need my lieutenants trying to off each other, too.”

  “I apologize, Ramses,” Tut said, still glaring at Li’l Monk.

  “Me too,” Li’l Monk added, matching Tut’s glare.

  “Now, I need to know that this shit between y’all is dead and won’t go any further,” Ramses told the both of them.

  “So long as respect is given, I got no problems with Tut or any of his people,” Li’l Monk said.

  “I’m cool, Ramses,” Tut agreed.

  “Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get on to a more pressing piece of business. A friend of the family was recently murdered in the Bronx,” Ramses revealed.

  “Anybody we might know?” Li’l Monk asked.

  “I don’t think you two have ever met, but Omega knows him. His name was Petey Suarez.”

  Li’l Monk saw Tut’s body tense at the mention of the name. It was a small tell that had probably gone unnoticed by everyone else on the table, but Li’l Monk caught it.