by Wahida Clark
He paused, took a deep breath, then reached forward and took a cigar from the box directly across from him. “That I cannot do. Not yet,” he said, lighting it and taking a deep pull. “However, it surprises me that you would think that it would be that easy to get out of a business that we have put our sweat and blood into . . . literally.”
“You said that your honor was all that you had. Yet you don’t stand by your word? I’m confused.”
“I respect you, Mr. Santos. You are not like Mr. Macklin. You are led by your mind and your spirit. But Mr. Macklin, much like my daughter, can be led by carnal desires.”
“What does carnal desire have to do with this? You said if we completed the job for you, my partner would be released. We delivered. And then you asked us to do it again. We did.”
“Again, Mr. Santos, I’m amazed that you believe that leaving this lifestyle would be as simple as a verbal request. One would say that if it took blood to enter this business, it will take blood to exit.” Those words rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and then he took another pull of his cigar.
“A wise man once said your honor is all that you have. Were those not your words, Mr. Li? Do you not stand by that statement? Are you not a man of your word?”
“Don’t lecture me about keeping my word. Did Mr. Macklin keep his word when I told him to stay away from my daughter? Where was the honor in having a man come into your house, do business, and disrespect the head of the household? I’ve had men killed for lesser transgressions. Your partner should be thanking me for allowing him to see the light of day, Mr. Santos. Wouldn’t you agree? Think about it.”
I was trying hard to keep a level head. This muthafucka was really pressing his luck. He was going back on his word as if it was nothing and acting as if we were a bunch of pussy-ass muthafuckas. “Mr. Li, man to man, what would you do if you were constantly served pussy on a plate crafted of fine china that you didn’t order? Wouldn’t you agree that eventually you’re going to eat it?”
He chuckled. “Do you think insulting me will help your friend, Mr. Santos?”
“What? You can dish it, but you can’t take it? You see, men like you will milk a nigga until you are done with him and then dispose of the carcass. But you underestimated these niggas. However, I was simply trying to prove a point, especially since we seem to be mixing business with pleasure.”
“If that’s all you are trying to do, then I don’t think there is anything else for us to discuss.” As soon as those words left his mouth, the two guards pounced on me and began whipping my ass. I was barely holding my own. When the tallest one pulled out a machete, I was like, oh shit.
“Mr. Li, I got something that you want to see!” I yelled out. “Give me one minute.”
He simply raised his hand and the two goons let me fall to the floor. It took a minute for me to get up. I stood up wobbling and said, “I want to make you a deal. You like our work, right?” I asked as I pulled out my cell phone.
Mr. Li sat back in his chair with a smirk on his face, waiting to hear what I was about to propose. “This should be entertaining. You people are good at putting on a show.”
I set the phone on the table, pulled up a file, and pressed play. I sat down. Mr. Li looked down at the video that was now in progress. His eyes widened, and sweat began to form on his brow. I could see him fidget in his chair. He would have a heart attack if he knew that Trae got this intel from his very own daughter. I was only showing him one meeting of him discussing the takeover of the banking system. I fast forwarded and showed him a meeting of them walking through the plant where they were making the new dope. Once I knew that he got my point, I turned it off.
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“I have several meetings in their entirety. What would the government think about you rigging their banking system and partnering with North Korea and Iran?” That shit was over my head. But I had it. And I knew what it was worth.
“You are playing a dangerous game, Mr. Santos. Even though you have nothing.”
“And what about this?” I took out a notepad, opened it, and slid it over to him.
When he looked at it and realized what it was, he smashed his fist on the table. His office door came open, and in stepped two of his bodyguards. Was I going to die right here for getting caught up in Trae’s bullshit? “Where did you get that? That formula belongs to me!”
I pulled the notepad back and placed it inside my jacket. It was do or die at this point. “Mr. Li, you have plenty of workers, business associates, whatever you want to call them. You don’t need Trae. So here’s my offer. Free my partner, and make a deposit of forty million into this account. The twenty you promised Trae if he put in three years. And twenty for me.” I slid a piece of paper across the desk to him. “I gotta give it to you. A drug more addictive than crack cocaine? I don’t want this to see the light of day. Leave us the fuck alone. I want both of our families’ names to be free and clear. I want us to be untouchable. I see that your word ain’t shit, so there are nine of these, in nine different places in the world. The people who have them, all they need is to not hear from me on a certain day at a certain time, and this formula will go viral. Everyone will have it, and you will have so much competition you would have sacrificed all of the research and development time and dollars you put into this. But more important is the video of your meeting. That shit there will get you kicked out of this land of opportunity, if not killed.” I glared at him. “Do we have a deal?” I sat waiting for his response.
Mr. Li jumped out of his chair, slammed his fist onto his desk, and yelled, “You want to go to war with me? You are nothing! You think you can come into my house, shut down my operation, and get away with it? You fucking porch monkey! Are you ready to go to war with me?” The veins were popping around his neck, and he was damn near foaming at the mouth, looking at me through glossy eyes. I remained seated and calm, but my heart was pounding. The two guards were posted on each side of me, waiting on the order to finish me off.
“Do we have a deal?”
I asked him again.
“How did Mr. Macklin get that?” He began pacing the floor.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. He said he would only reveal that if he needed to.”
Mr. Li walked back and forth in silence for several minutes. I waited. Finally, he said, “I have some stipulations of my own. You have forty-eight hours to leave the state. I don’t want you back here, and if I hear anything about you in my backyard, the deal is off. Whatever business we had is done and forgotten. Mr. Santos and Mr. Macklin, you no longer exist.”
“I have no problem with that.”
“Good.” He reached for his phone and made two quick calls, speaking in his native tongue. When he was done, he carefully placed the phone on the receiver. “You have what you wanted. I can only hope that you are a man of your word,” he said, now humble and uncertain. “I will have your head in the next life.”
I rose to my feet, grabbed my phone, and headed for the door.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But until then, honor thy thug, muthafucka.”
I was out.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
All praise is forever due to the Creator. Book #12!! Who would have thunk it! Yah Yah, love you much. Don’t know what I’d do without you. The Staff. Never seen such dedicated folks ever. Love you all. You know who you are, Hasana (wahidaclark.org), Sherry, Brenda, Jennifer, Sabir, Jabaar, Kisha, Hadiyah, Lindsey. My fabulous Street Team. You guys are in a league of your own. Slim and Baby, thank you for allowing me to do me and opening new doors. Cash Money Content Staff, Vernon Brown, Marc Gerald, Molly Derse (the hardest working little lady in publishing), Donna Torrence, Dawnalisa Johnson, Kia Selby, Vickie Charles. To my Editorial Team, you guys Rock!! You guys make my job very challenging and you push me to the limit! We got another New York Times Best Seller on our hands! Al-Nisa Bracey, Intelligent Allah, Maxine Thompson (the backstory police) , Treena Burnette, Erick Gray. Keisha Caldwell, you r
eally, really stepped it up on this project. I am so proud of you. Nuance Art, you are awesome!! I am so proud of you! The cover to this one is superior. Thank you for being my right hand man and traveling partner!!!! Omar of the NYPD, thanks for the input on my murder scene. ‘Preciate it. Oh, can’t forget my agent, the pitbull in a skirt, Claudia Menza. The WCP authors, you guys rock. Stay on your grind and remember, books don’t sell by themselves.
This one goes out to my readers!!!!! I aim to please!! Let’s goooooo!
2013 is the year for the Official Queen of Street Literature!
Watch for me!
Follow me on twitter @wahidaclark
honorthythug.com
wclarkpublishing.com
Wahida Clark has an amazing story. Tenacity, vision and sheer determination are what helped her rise to become the bestselling author and successful business woman she is today. Clark began writing her first novel while serving a 9 1/2 year prison sentence, including 9 months in solitary confinement, at the Lexington Prison Camp in Lexington, KY. While behind bars, Clark inked a publishing deal with two major publishing houses, wrote and released 7 novels, including one NY Times bestseller, and laid the groundwork for her publishing company, Wahida Clark Presents (WCP).
To date Clark has released 12 successful novels including three New York Times bestsellers. Her own publishing company, Wahida Clark Presents is one of the fastest growing independent publishing houses in the country.
COVER DESIGN BY NUANCE ART.
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DERRICK BLAKELY
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COPYRIGHT ©2013 WAHIDA CLARK
HONOR THY THUG
Copyright © 2013 by Wahida Clark.
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All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
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First Edition: April 2013
Book Layout: Peng Olaguera/ISPN
Cover Design: Nuance Art
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2012954020
ISBN: 9781936399390 hardcover
ISBN: 9781936399499 pbk
ISBN: 9781936399406 ebook
