The Fix 3

by K'wan

  “Then we’ll need another way.” Kunta got up and began pacing the small room. “Is there anyone else who can attest to what this Charlie’s told you? Maybe one of his accomplices?”

  “That bitch-ass nigga Chucky and the two broads he’s been running with. Charlie said their names are Maggie and Rissa. The problem with that is Chucky has got a bigger price on his head than me. Ramses has been trying to track him down to kill him for months, but hasn’t had any luck. Besides that, Chucky hates my guts. He’d rather die than help me.”

  “Then he just might have to,” Kunta said seriously. “Chucky may be the only card you have left to play. Worst case scenario he refuses to talk and we instead present his head to the Parizzis and hope it buys you a pass. Do you have any idea where we can lay hands on Chucky?” Kunta asked.

  Li’l Monk thought long and hard on it. “No, but I know someone who might. Do you have a phone I can use?”

  CHAPTER 28

  Persia got up earlier than usual that Sunday. She had a lot to do and not a lot of time. It was going to be a full day.

  After her talk with Richard the night before her wheels had started to spin and for the first time she could see the path she needed to follow very clearly. Persia had been through so much that she still bore the scars and it had been fucking with her psychologically. She had become a victim of her own self-pity and she had forgotten who she was and what kind of stock she came from. Persia was no weak-ass chick who broke down in the face of adversity; she was a fighter. Richard was right when he had told her that a cold world bred hard men, but what Persia had come to understand was that it bred even colder women. It was time to close the curtain on this sideshow.

  She hit Vaughn up earlier, hoping that she would be able to catch him before his morning walk-through. He was playing in a big game the next day against the Giants, one of their biggest division rivals, so there was no doubt he would be busy with team activities. Luckily she was able to catch him.

  Vaughn was surprised to hear from Persia, but even more surprised when she asked if his dinner invitation for after the game still stood. Vaughn did her one better and invited her to come and watch him play. He offered to send a car for Persia to bring her to the stadium in New Jersey, but she declined, opting to take public transportation. The car service would’ve been more convenient, but Persia wanted to show him that she was capable of doing for herself, so he never got it twisted about her character or her intentions for him. Vaughn protested, but he understood and respected it. They ended the call with him telling her he’d leave two tickets at the box office for her.

  After hanging up with Vaughn she felt a mixture of guilt and apprehension about her pending meeting with him. She really liked Vaughn, but there was no way they’d be able to move forward until she laid her cards on the table. If he cared for her like he professed to then he should understand, or so she hoped. Either way the lies she carried were getting too heavy. She needed to shed their dead weight, not just for Vaughn but for the sake of being able to move on with her life.

  Wanting to tell Vaughn the truth was the main reason she wanted to see him, but not the whole reason. She knew that on the night of such an important game cameras would be all over Vaughn, and her being seen with him would be the glue that held her real plan together. All the dominos were set up, now all Persia had to do was set them in motion.

  No sooner had she put the phone down on its cradle than it started ringing again. She looked at the caller ID, but didn’t recognize the number. It was probably Chucky calling to see if she had made up her mind about going along with his plan. She started not to answer, but knew that if she didn’t he would only keep calling or, worse, send someone to her house again. “What?” she answered with an attitude.

  “Uh, hi, can I speak to Persia please?” A familiar voice came over the line.

  “Li’l Monk?” Persia asked in surprised.

  “Yeah, this is me. Did I catch you at a bad time or something?”

  “No, thought you were this other asshole I’ve been ducking. What’s up? I’m surprised to hear from you.”

  “I need to ask you something. Now I know it’s a sore subject for you and trust me I wouldn’t be asking if I had a choice.”

  “What’s going on?” There was something in the tone of his voice that unnerved her.

  “When is the last time you saw Chucky?”

  The line went silent.

  “Persia, you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here.” Her voice came back on the line. “Why are you asking me about Chucky?”

  Her response gave Li’l Monk pause. The fact that she answered his question with a question instead of saying she hadn’t seen him meant he had likely made contact. “Listen, I got it on good authority that Chucky is back in New York. If he is, I know you’re one of the few people he’d reach out to.”

  “I wish I could help you, but I have no idea where Chucky is,” Persia lied.

  “Persia, how long have we known each other?” Li’l Monk asked.

  “Since we were babies.”

  “Right, and in all this time we’ve never lied to each other. No matter how bad it was, we were always able to tell each other the truth. Just like you know me better than anybody, I know you better than anybody, which means I can tell when you’re hiding something. Now I’m going to ask you again, and I want you to think long and hard on it before you answer. Has Chucky reached out to you?”

  She could tell by the sense of urgency in his voice that something was wrong and it had to do with Chucky. She started to spin another lie about having not seen Chucky when suddenly an idea formed in her head. “Yes,” she finally admitted.

  “I need to get a line on this nigga ASAP, and it’s a matter of life and death,” Li’l Monk insisted.

  “I’m sorry I lied when you first asked but I’m scared. I know there’s a lot of bad blood between you guys and Chucky and I just don’t wanna get caught up. I don’t want Ramses coming after me because of what I done with Chucky in the past.” This part was true. She knew that Ramses had passed a death sentence on Chucky for what he had pulled and anybody else who was involved would likely go along for the ride.

  “Look, baby girl, I ain’t never let nobody hurt you before and I don’t plan on letting anybody hurt you now. I can fix all this shit. I just need to know where I can lay hands on this pussy,” Li’l Monk told her.

  “Okay, I’m going to hold you to that promise. The last time I saw him was in the Bronx. I don’t have an exact address, but I can get it for you. I’ll just need a little time,” Persia told him.

  “Time is something that I don’t have a lot of, but I’ll take my blessings where I can get them. Thanks, Princess P. I owe you big time for this,” Li’l Monk told her and ended the call.

  Persia felt like a weight had just been lifted off her shoulders. Li’l Monk’s call had completely changed her game plan. Until she had spoken to him she had it in her mind that the only way out of her dilemma would be to kill Chucky on her own. Persia was no murderer, but she was desperate. If killing him was the only way to break his hold on her it was a risk she was willing to take, but Li’l Monk had unknowingly given her an alternative.

  Since they were children Li’l Monk had been so smitten with her he would do anything she asked of him, including commit murder. She could’ve given Li’l Monk the address to the apartment where Chucky was staying, but she had to cover her ass first. There was no doubt in her mind that Li’l Monk would waste no time in getting after Chucky once she turned him loose so she needed to make sure all her ducks were in a row first, which meant insulating herself from any- and everybody who was involved. When the shit hit the fan she didn’t want any of it splattering on her.

  She was sure Li’l Monk could take care of her Chucky problem, but Ramses was still an issue. Even with Chucky gone there was no guarantee that Ramses wouldn’t want to settle up with her for the part she’d unwittingly played in his shenanigans. She would need to fin
d a way to give him second thoughts about coming after her and this was where Vaughn came in. She would use his celebrity as her shield and send a message to Ramses or anyone else that harming her would be bad for business. With Persia in the spotlight with Vaughn, the risk of trying to kill her would no longer be worth it.

  A part of her felt bad about manipulating Li’l Monk the way she was, but she had limited resources and had to use whatever was at her disposal, including the people close to her.

  When Persia came downstairs her mood had improved considerably. She was going to go out and buy herself a new outfit for her date the following night. She wanted to make sure she looked good for Vaughn and the cameras. As she crossed the living room she noticed the door to Richard’s study was cracked. From inside she could hear him on the phone speaking harshly to someone. Persia was shocked because Richard rarely used foul language, but he was launching a profanity-laced tirade that would have made Redd Foxx proud. Persia crept to the door and peeked inside.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean to me?” Richard paced back and forth while talking on his cell phone. “Nigga, that ain’t on us if it didn’t go how it was supposed to. You tell them sweat suit–wearing muthafuckas they gotta wear that.” He listened for a minute. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s still gotta be handled. Tell you what, put them three new niggas on it. The knuckleheads from Lenox. Tell them I got ten stacks on this pussy’s face.”

  Listening to Richard was like listening to a total stranger. The man raging on the cell phone wasn’t the bookish man her mother had married. He was someone else.

  Richard looked up and noticed Persia standing in the doorway. “I gotta call you back,” he said and abruptly ended the call. “Hey, Persia, I didn’t see you standing there.” He smiled sweetly. It was as if someone had flipped a switch and turned the rage off.

  “I haven’t been standing here long. I just walked up,” Persia lied. “You okay?”

  “Just some bullshit I have to deal with,” Richard said as if it was no big deal.

  “More work-related issues?”

  Richard looked down at his cell phone. “No, this is personal.”

  “Okay,” Persia said, picking up on the fact that it was clearly something he didn’t want to talk about. “Is Mom around?”

  “She said she had some errands to run in the city. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Persia was hesitant. “Well, I hate to ask but do you think I could borrow a few bucks?”

  “Sure, honey. How much do you need?” he asked, retrieving his wallet from his pants pocket.

  “Whatever you can spare is fine. I need to buy an outfit for tomorrow night. I’m going to a football game.”

  “A football game?” Richard asked surprised. “I could never get you to watch the games on TV and now you’re going to one?” He handed her some cash.

  “Let’s just say I’ve recently acquired a new appreciation.” She accepted the money. “Thanks.” She hugged him and started back toward her bedroom.

  Richard called after her. “After the game, see if you can get Vaughn to sign a football for me.”

  Persia was stunned. She had worked hard to keep her relationship with Vaughn a secret from her family until she realized how serious they were going to get. “How did you find out?”

  “I was browsing a sports Web site to get the game scores and came across a picture some paparazzi caught of you two coming out of a movie theater. I believe it was taken the same night you lied and told your mother and me that you and Asia were going to the library.”

  Persia lowered her head in shame, having been caught in a lie. “Are you going to tell Mom?”

  “No, I’ll leave that to you, whenever you feel like the time is right, so long as you don’t wait too long.”

  Persia nodded. “That’s fair. Thank you.”

  “Anytime. You just let Mr. Tate know that at some point we’ll be expecting Vaughn to come and present himself like a respectable young man who’s courting a young lady. I may not be your biological father, but I still love you like a daughter. Never forget that.”

  “I won’t,” she said and bounced up the stairs.

  For the first time in a long time things were finally starting to look up for Persia. Within the next forty-eight hours all of her problems would be solved and she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. All that was left for her to do now was set the table and ring the chow bell.

  She picked her phone up from the cradle and dialed the necessary number. It barely rang twice before the caller picked up. “Okay, I’m in. I wanna see you tonight so we can go over the details.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The first thing King Tut noticed when Omega came to pick him up was the sour expression on his face. He was sitting behind the wheel of his car, sucking the life out of a blunt and scowling. Something was clearly troubling him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a pretty good idea.

  “What up, why you looking like somebody kicked your dog?” Tut asked, getting into the car.

  “I can’t find this nigga, Li’l Monk,” Omega told him.

  “And tell me again why that’s a bad thing? Shit, I don’t know how you can stand looking at his ugly mug all day,” Tut joked, but Omega didn’t laugh. “Don’t stress it, O. He’s probably laid up with that chick of his. Isn’t that usually where he disappears to whenever something important needs to be handled?”

  “Nah, he ain’t over there. Sophie said he was supposed to come over last night but he never showed up,” Omega said. “I’m starting to get worried.”

  King Tut was silent for a while, regarding Omega. He was no doubt stressed with Li’l Monk being missing, which was to be expected, but there was business to be handled. “I know this ain’t the best time to bring it up, but we need to handle that piece of business with Felix.” He changed the subject.

  “Right, how did it go when they got the news?” Omega asked.

  “Well your little plan went off without a hitch. Ramses bought the story about George,” Tut informed him.

  “Just like I knew he would.” Omega beamed proudly. “Telling Ramses that George was behind it wouldn’t have been enough; he would’ve needed proof. That doctored recording was just what we needed to tip things in our favor.”

  “But how did you know he wouldn’t want to check it for authenticity?” Tut asked.

  “Ramses is old school, and cats his age ain’t hip to the miracles of modern technology. Besides that, he’s so arrogant and sure of his hold over us that it probably never even entered his mind that we’d dare try to fool him. I’m loyal to Ramses, but I’m more loyal to myself.”

  “You are fucking brilliant, O!” Tut stroked his ego.

  “I told you that I’d figure a way out of it; all you had to do was trust in ya boy. How did the wetbacks take it?” He was asking about Felix and the men Suarez had sent to find out who killed Petey.

  “Not well at all. Man, them spics was hotter than fish grease when we broke the news. It didn’t help that the dude we fingered as the shooter was an affiliate of Pharaoh’s. They’re still suspicious of us, which is why we gotta go along for the ride to clean up the mess. They want us to help whack one of our own as a show of good faith.”

  “Fuck it, if it takes helping them get rid of George to put us all in the clear then he can consider his ass gone. The sooner we get this shit handled the sooner I can get in these streets and find Li’l Monk. I got a bad feeling about this.”

  King Tut frowned. He looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue.

  “What? You got something to say, spit it out, Tut.”

  “I’m just thinking, man. I know Pharaoh and Ramses say we aren’t officially at war, but anybody with eyes can see what’s going on. They’re moving in on us. I hear a few of them been playing the hood pretty close, and what if Li’l Monk got caught slipping?” King Tut knew the theory was a farfetched one, but he couldn’t very well say what he really suspected. He was testing Omega to
see where his head was at before deciding whether to tip his hand as to what he picked up on when he spoke to Ramses.

  The thought of Li’l Monk being murdered by the Clarks filled Omega with rage. “That’s my word if I find out one of them touched my brother, I don’t give a fuck what Pharaoh says, I’m gonna ride on them bitches!” He punched the steering wheel.

  “And be the one responsible for officially igniting the war without Pharaoh’s blessings?” Tut questioned. “That might land all of us in the dog house.”

  “If that’s the way it plays out then so be it. Li’l Monk is my brother and if somebody has touched him there ain’t nothing short of God that’s gonna stop me from taking down his killer and I don’t give a fuck what Pharaoh says. Blood will answer for blood!” Omega declared.

  King Tut sat back and listened as Omega went into a tirade about what he would do to the persons he found were responsible if something happened to Li’l Monk. He understood his hostility, but felt like Omega wasn’t seeing the bigger picture and that might prove to be a problem.

  King Tut could tell based on his cryptic conversation with Ramses that Li’l Monk had done something to fall out of favor with Pharaoh, and his spot was about to be up for grabs but it never occurred to him that Ramses would have him killed. Having Li’l Monk knocked off was either a very bold or desperate move on Ramses’s part. The pressure was on him and he was cleaning house. Li’l Monk being gone opened up the lane for King Tut to step up. Someone would have to be promoted to fill the void Li’l Monk would leave behind and that someone would be King Tut. If they played their cards right King Tut and Omega could put themselves in position to be the future of Pharaoh’s army, but it would never work if Omega wasn’t willing to charge Li’l Monk’s death to the game. Omega was too loyal to Li’l Monk not to let his death go and therefore would likely present a problem down the line, unless of course he also found himself removed from the equation too. This would make Tut the next logical choice to be Ramses’s right hand in the streets. For as appealing as the idea of being Omega’s partner was to Tut, the prospect of being the last man standing appealed to him more.