“Well, in the meantime, why don’t you make a nigga something to eat!” he yelled.
“I got something for you to eat you sneaky piece of shit,” Frankie mumbled. Cowboy was about his paper and had plenty of it, which was the main reason she dealt with him, but he had no idea how to treat a lady. She didn’t know how she had managed to put up with him for as long as she had, but thanks to Duce, she wouldn’t have to do so much longer.
Cos leaned against the wall in the police precinct wearing his best ice grill. There were four other men in the room with him, all holding large index cards with numbers scribbled on them. The police had questioned him for over an hour, but he remained perfectly silent. They were insinuating a million and one things, but the more they spoke the more confident he became that they didn’t have anything on him. The thing that he found to be strange was the fact that they kept asking him about Thor. Only Cowboy, Duce and Frankie knew that he was supposed to pick him up that morning, so one of them had to be the leak. No matter whom it was, he was going to make it his business to kill them once he was back on the streets.
The police popped shit and made threats, but none of it moved Cos. He had been in and out of jail far too long to let their empty threats rattle him. He refused to utter anything other than “I want to see my lawyer.” Only when his lawyer arrived did he agree to participate in the lineup to prove that they had the wrong man…or so he hoped.
Behind the two-way mirror, the lead detective, who had rushed his house, sat with a young woman. She fidgeted nervously in the hard plastic chair staring at the five men on the other side of the looking glass. She had never seen any of them before, but had been given a description of the man she was to point out during the lineup.
“That’s him,” she said, pointing at Cos.
“Are you sure?” the lead detective asked.
“Yes.”
“This is bullshit,” Cos’ lawyer threw his hands in the air. “This woman is a prostitute with a rap sheet a mile long. How the hell is she credible?”
“Because she was there,” the lead detective told him. “Your boy Brown is a notorious piece of shit and the thing that happened at the Doll House is right up his alley. Now, instead of sitting here slinging insults, I suggest you start trying to convince him to take the deal the DA is sure to offer him for the other four perps.”
“This is a miscarriage of justice and I won’t stand for it!” the lawyer said animatedly.
“Then sit down,” the lead detective said, turning his attention back to the woman. “Now, take a good look honey and there’s no need to be scared because he can’t see you. Is that the man you saw at the Doll House?”
“Yes, that’s him,” she said wondering if the detective was telling the truth about the mirror. “I was tending bar that night and I remember seeing him lurking around the door before the shooting started.”
“Okay sweetie, we’ll have one of the officers outside take you home. Thank you for your time.”
The woman nodded and left the room. What she had told the police was half true. The woman had been the bartender at the Doll House the night Cos and the others had robbed it, but she didn’t see his face. Duce had paid her a small ransom to say otherwise. Of course, she would be nowhere to be found when it was time to testify, which would more than likely make Cos a free man, but this was how Duce had planned it. He didn’t want his one-time friend gone…just out of the way long enough for him to whack Cowboy.
Cos was less than pleased to find out that he had been fingered as one of the robbers at the Doll House, but he managed to maintain his cool. He needed to keep a clear head in light of the situation. He knew that no one other than the stripper he had tipped had gotten a good look at him, and there was no way his own little cousin would drop a dime on him, leaving only the members of his crew. He and Thor were like brothers so that left Duce, Cowboy and Frankie. Either one or all three of them would pay for turning on Costello Brown.
His lawyer sat waiting for him behind a conference table, while a uniformed officer stood outside the door. As soon as he sat down, the lawyer immediately went into his spiel about how he was going to do everything in his power to free Cos but was waved silent. “Nix the bullshit because I’m not really in the mood to hear it,” Cos said, leaning in to whisper. “This is what you’re gonna do. Get my cell phone out of my personals as soon as you can. Send big brother a text telling him that there’s a weasel in the hen house. He’ll know what it means.” Without waiting for the lawyer to respond, Cos returned to the conference room door and yelled for the officer to take him back to his cell.
Whoever was behind the set up was sure to have covered their bases so there probably wasn’t much he could do other than wait for his arraignment and play it from there. But whoever the traitor was would soon find out that Cos wasn’t without his own resources.
TWENTY-ONE
“Damn it, Frankie, don’t you hear the door?” Cowboy asked, standing over Frankie who was lounging on the sofa.
“It ain’t for me,” she said, not bothering to look up from the magazine she was thumbing through.
“I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you lately, woman,” he said, heading for the front door.
“Nine and a half inches of paradise,” she mumbled.
“What the fuck did you just say?” he stopped short.
“I’m talking about the magazine. I said this bitch gives horrible advice,” she lied. “What the hell is your problem this morning?”
“My problem is that I’ve got almost 200 grand down in the trunk of my car and ain’t nobody breaking the door down to try and get their piece. Where the fuck is these niggaz at?”
“Relax, baby, that’s probably them at the door now. Their simple minded assess was probably out chasing ass all night.”
“I don’t give a fuck what they were doing. When I tell niggaz eight o’clock I mean eight o’clock, not a quarter to nine.” Cowboy snatched the door open to find only one of his missing soldiers. “At least one of you niggaz has got some sense of time, even if you are half an hour late,” he said letting Duce into the apartment.
“Sorry about that, man. I’m just not used to getting up this early no more,” Duce gave him a pound and flopped in one of the four folding chairs Cowboy had set up in the living room. Frankie glanced at him, and went back to her magazine. “So, where’s everybody else?”
“Damned if I know,” Cowboy said, lighting a cigarette. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and began pacing the floor. “Thor, I could understand being a fuck up but it ain’t like Cos to be late, especially knowing the kind of paper we got on the ball.”
“Maybe they’re caught in traffic. The snow had shit moving mad slow,” Duce suggested.
“Maybe, but I doubt it. Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Cowboy, you’re going to wear a hole in that carpet. Try to relax,” Frankie grabbed his hand to stop him from pacing. Just seeing her touch Cowboy made Duce want to pop the both of them, but he was too close to let his emotions throw it all to shit. He locked his heart in an iron box and focused on the plan.
“I can’t relax, baby. I know if I was supposed to get my piece of this big ass haul I’d have been on time. Men like Cos and Thor don’t bull shit over bread.”
“Cowboy, I’m gonna fix y’all some drinks, maybe that’ll calm your nerves,” Frankie said, making her way to the mini bar.
“Thanks, baby,” he patted her on the ass as she passed. “Duce,” he addressed the young man, “there’s nothing like having a good woman in your corner. I can always count on Frankie when the chips are down.”
Duce gritted his teeth. “I know what you mean. Back before I went to prison, I had a down ass bitch in my corner. She was a straight gangsta,” he glanced at the kitchen and then back at Cowboy.
“Yeah, I forgot Cos said you were fresh out of the can, but he never got in to the specifics.”
Duce shrugged. “Ain’t much to tell. I went down on a bull shit cha
rge that they couldn’t make stick.”
“So, you were a body catcher, huh?” Cowboy sized him up, wondering if he was bullshitting or not.
“I was one of the best, until a rat set me up.” There was now a chill to Duce’s voice that made even Frankie nervous.
“Two bodies and you only caught five years? How’d you manage to swing that?” Cowboy asked curiously. Frankie had just returned and set two glasses of Hennessy and Coke on the coffee table. Though Duce was sitting perfectly calm, there was something in his eyes that made Cowboy nervous.
“Wasn’t that hard,” Duce turned his glass up and downed it. “See, a lot of people owed me favors in the world and I called in every last one. A few well-placed dollars,” Duce spread his arms, “and here I am.”
“So, you plan on getting back at the cats that tried to shit on you?” Cowboy asked, leaning back on the sofa across from where Duce was sitting.
“Already got the ball rolling,” Duce leaned in, staring Cowboy in the eye. “There’s just one loose end I gotta tie up to complete the circle.” Duce went for his pistol, but before he could draw it, Cowboy had produced a 9mm from beneath the cushion of the couch.
“Try me if you want, but your brains will be out of your head before that gun gets outta your jacket,” Cowboy hissed. “You know, you almost got away with it, son. Had you not felt the need to stroll down memory lane I might not have put two and two together until it was too late, D-Murder.”
“Bravo, cock sucker,” Duce clapped, “but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to die,” he snarled.
“D, you’re even stupider than your lame ass brother was. I’m the one holding the pistol, so it looks like you’re gonna do the dying,” Cowboy gave a throaty laugh, but it was abruptly cut short by the feeling of cold steel against his temple.
“I’ll take that, baby,” Frankie said, pressing a .38 against Cowboy’s temple. He just looked at her in shock as Frankie plucked the gun from his hand.
“You dirty bitch!” Cowboy trembled with rage.
Frankie walked over and sat in Duce’s lap with both guns trained on Cowboy. “Not a dirty bitch,” she kissed Duce on the lips, but her guns never left Cowboy. “A gangsta bitch. Had I known you were responsible for taking the only thing I’ve ever loved in this world, I’d have murdered your bitch ass long before today,” she kissed Duce on the lips and turned lifeless eyes to Cowboy. “I’m gonna enjoy watching you die, nigga.”
No sooner than the words left Frankie’s mouth the front door came crashing in. Thor stood in the wreckage of what had been Cowboy’s front door with his hammer in one hand and a .40 cal in the other. He had been on his way to Cowboy’s when he got the text from Cos’ phone. His intentions had been to tie all three of them up and beat a confession out of the traitor, but seeing Frankie sitting on Duce’s lap, he had all the proof he needed. Once again a bitch had put a monkey wrench in the works, but he was going to deal with them accordingly.
At the same time Frankie moved to fire at Thor, Duce was trying to get up to draw his own weapon which caused them to collapse back into the chair awkwardly. Thor licked two shots before diving into the kitchen. The first one hit the wall, but the second one nicked Duce’s shoulder. Frankie fired at the kitchen with one gun and at Cowboy with the other, but he was able to slip behind the couch.
Duce tossed Frankie to the floor and drew his 9mm, alternating aim between the kitchen entrance and the couch where Cowboy had disappeared. He nodded towards the couch while he moved slowly towards the kitchen. Frankie understood what he meant and began creeping across the living room.
Duce crept along on the balls of his feet moving as silently as he could. He knew Frankie had his back, but couldn’t help but to keep looking in the direction where Cowboy had disappeared. It was during one of those nervous glances that Thor popped out of the kitchen. Duce had barely thrown himself to the floor when large chunks of the wall came away in a spray of plaster. Duce fired from a laying position, missing Thor but punching holes in the refrigerator.
Faster than was probably wise, Duce sprang to his feet. The room swam for a minute, but his grip on the gun never wavered. The abrupt fall coupled with the searing gash in his shoulder made his whole arm feel numb. He flexed his fingers around the handle of the gun and began creeping towards the kitchen.
Duce leaned against the outer wall of the kitchen and breathed deeply. He held the gun pointed at the ground in a two-handed grip and pressed his cheek against the wall. By now, someone had surely called the police at the sound of gunfire so he and Thor’s game of cat and mouse would have to end sooner than later. Tired of being on the defensive, Duce went on the offensive and stepped into the kitchen.
Sweat from Frankie’s palms made the guns feel like they would slip from her hands with the slightest of movements. She could hear movement in the kitchen but forced herself to focus on her target. Her eyes darted from the spot on the couch that Cowboy had disappeared behind to the end of it. The last thing she needed was for him to go kamikaze and get the drop on her. The sound of gunfire from the kitchen caused Frankie to whirl instinctively, which was a bad move. When she turned back around, Cowboy was popping up from behind the couch, now holding the .357 that she dumbly forgot he kept stashed there.
“You stinking bitch, I’m gonna kill you!” he shouted, firing the cannon.
Frankie hit he floor a split second before the couch exploded in a shower of cotton and springs. “Not in this life time, mutha fucka,” she rolled over on her back, firing at Cowboy with the guns. He moved with the speed of a jungle cat, but he wasn’t faster than a bullet. He howled in pain as one of the shots tore through his forearm.
“I can’t believe you fucking shot me!” he cried from behind the couch. The bullet has passed through, but the arm would be useless.
“Believe it, I told you Frankie Five Fingers don’t bluff,” she shot back, getting to her knees. She wasn’t foolish enough to stand up and make an easier target of herself.
“Frankie baby, it ain’t gotta go down like this. We a team, ma. Me and you against the rest of these suckers, right?”
“That me and you shit went out the window when your true colors came out. You should’ve kept it real with me Cowboy, because then I might’ve shown mercy, but ain’t no sunshine now, baby. This is the final curtain, so get out here and take your bow.”
“Oh, it’s like that?” Cowboy asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Well fuck you then!” Cowboy started shooting blindly through the couch trying to get at Frankie. She fell on her ass, dropping one of her guns and scuttled backward across the living room. The entertainment system showered her with glass as one of the mad man’s bullets struck it. Frankie didn’t dare breathe until she had crawled safely behind the wall where Duce had disappeared.
The impact from Thor’s hammer sent shockwaves up Duce’s wrists. The gun clanged to the ground leaving Duce stunned and unarmed. Instead of shooting him, Thor slammed the handle of his hammer into Duce’s jaw. Duce staggered but didn’t fall. Thor tried to bring the hammer around for the killing blow, but Duce sidestepped it seconds before it burrowed into the kitchen tiles. In the moment that it took Thor to free the hammer, Duce was on him.
Duce hit Thor with a series of combinations and kicks, but the big man held his feet. He tried to bring his gun arm around, but Duce grabbed it and held on for dear life. Thor tried to swing the hammer, but there wasn’t enough room in the kitchen to do so. The big man roared and repeatedly slammed Duce from the oven to the refrigerator but still he held on.
Duce slammed his fist into Thor’s jaw as hard as he could, but the big man only got angrier. Dropping the hammer, he grabbed Duce in a bear hug and began to apply pressure. Duce could only yelp because Thor had squeezed too much air out of him for a scream. Seeing the look of pain on Duce’s face, the big man applied more pressure, triumphantly laughing at the sounds of Duce’s bones cracking.
Duce tried to fight the big man off but he was too strong.
Spots suddenly began to flash before his eyes as he felt the first tugs of unconsciousness. If he blacked out in Thor’s grasp, it was over before he got to Cowboy. Something gleaming on the kitchen counter gave Duce hope. He leaned his body as far to the left as he could without helping Thor break his spine and wrapped his hand around the object. With all the strength he had left, he plunged the steak knife into Thor’s shoulder.
The sharp pain made the bigger man drop his prey. Duce lay on the ground gasping. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. Through a haze, he saw the rage in Thor’s eyes and knew that it was just about over for him. Thor’s huge hands grabbed for the knife protruding from his shoulder blade, but the constant flow of blood made it hard to grab. Eventually getting a grip on it, he yanked the knife free with a roar, sending blood spattering all over the wall. Thor looked at the knife as if it had been an irritating splinter then turned the same glare to Duce.
“I was just gonna shoot you and make it quick, now I’m gonna break as many bones as I can before I finish you off.” Thor had taken two steps in Duce’s direction when his chest exploded in a spray of blood. He temporarily forgot about Duce and began to grasp at the wound in his chest. He took one more step towards Duce when his head exploded like a rotten melon. The big man’s body crashed to the ground rattling the dishes.
Frankie stood in the mouth of the kitchen looking from Duce to Thor. Blood ran from what used to be the man’s head onto the kitchen floor and tickled the edges of the carpet. Most women would’ve probably thrown up at the sight of so much blood and brain matter, but not Frankie. She just stared at the body with her gun still trained on his back.
“You good?” she asked, extending her hand to Duce.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” he allowed her to help him up. “Thank you, baby,” he hugged her. Duce inhaled Frankie’s scent and let it take him to that special place that only they occupied. He nestled his nose in her hair and for a moment forgot where they were and why they came, until the pain hit. Duce never heard the shot, but he felt it…Lord did he feel it. A white hot fire shot up through his back and spread throughout his limbs. He slumped to his knees leaving a trail of blood on Frankie’s chest. Frankie knelt beside Duce, who was breathing heavily.
Gangsta Bitch Page 15
