Carl Weber's Kingpins

by C. N. Phillips

  “What’s this about?” Tron asked, slowly raising his hands and squinting his eyes because the lights were blinding. “And why the fuck all y’all got your guns pointed at me?”

  “Cuff him!” the officer shouted, ignoring Tron’s question.

  “Ain’t nobody fucking touching me, yo. Not until you tell me what the fuck’s going on.”

  “We received an anonymous tip that you had something to do with the bombing of the theater in the Bronx,” the officer told him as others advanced on him with a pair of handcuffs. “When we got clearance on a search warrant to check this address, we found the same kind of explosives that were at the scene of the crime. You are being charged with arson by explosion and arson by possession of explosive devices. If you resist arrest, we have no problem bringing you in by using excessive force, boy!”

  “I didn’t blow up shit!” Tron said, which was partly the truth.

  “The evidence in your home suggests otherwise,” the officer said and held up a large black bag. “There are enough explosives in here to take down half a block. Not to mention the drug paraphernalia we removed from the residence.”

  “I don’t know how that got in there, because it wasn’t there when I left,” Tron said, realizing that Kyan must have got there before he did and planted the explosives. Instead of taking his life, he was trying to do something much worse—take his freedom. “You’re gon’ try to stick me with a little weed too?”

  “Anything to keep you lock—”

  “Wait! That’s my boyfriend!” a woman shouted running through the officers and up to Tron. “Please don’t take him!”

  She wore a long, forest-green petticoat and a black hat over her bushy hair. He recognized her as a woman he’d seen a few times coming and going from the apartment complex. She couldn’t have been more than 21, and Tron didn’t remember ever speaking a word to her in his life. Not even a hello. But there she was, throwing herself over him as if she’d known him for forever. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood on her tiptoes, kissing him deeply.

  “OK, enough of that,” an officer said and pulled her away.

  “I love you! You’ll be home soon,” she said to a confused Tron. “Use the number you know in the morning!”

  And just like that, she was gone faster than she came. She must have been high off some strong drugs. One of the tall officers aggressively pulled his arms behind his back to handcuff him.

  “Check him!”

  Shit, Tron thought to himself remembering the weapons on him as the officers patted him down.

  None of his weapons were registered. He had never in his life been caught slipping, and now the one time he did, it was in a major way. Tron felt the officer’s hands pause on his waist, and he stopped breathing.

  “He’s clean!” the officer said, and Tron held up his poker face.

  At first, he was shocked because he knew for a fact that he’d had his guns on him. He looked to see where the woman had gone. She went back to where Klax’s vehicle was parked in the distance and was handing him something through the window. Tron realized then that she must have taken his weapons off of him when she’d embraced him.

  “No matter. We have enough to send him away for a long time,” a new voice said approaching Tron. He was a tall man with blond hair and frigid eyes that never left Tron. “My name is Detective Hanes, and it looks to me like you’ve gotten yourself in quite a pickle here. Do you care to explain how and why you’ve been here less than a month, yet have managed to do something so fucking stupid?”

  “I just told you, I ain’t do shit.”

  “Maybe you didn’t, but somebody did. Maybe you were just holding on to the rest of those explosives for somebody else. Somebody like Kevin Turner.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Tron told him, not batting an eye.

  “We know he had something to do with this. It’s just like someone of his . . . kind . . . to send someone like you to do his bidding.”

  “His kind?” Tron scoffed.

  “Yeah, people who don’t want to get their hands dirty, so they have those who are lower on the food chain do it. As I said before, I know Kevin played a part somewhere in this story. The bombing was too calculated; too direct. So if you tell me what I need to hear, I can assure you that you will be granted clemency. Did Kevin Turner assist you in any way with the bombing of the Old Royal Theater?”

  “I just told you, I ain’t do shit to no theater,” Tron answered, raising his lip.

  “Hmm,” Detective Hanes smirked. “I hope you keep that same attitude in jail. I’m going to see to it that you don’t get bail.”

  “Ain’t this the point where somebody is supposed to read me my rights? Get the fuck out of my face, man.”

  “All right,” Detective Hanes said.

  The detective faked like he was about to turn around to walk away, but instead, punched Tron hard in the gut. As he went to double over from the blow, Detective Hanes followed the gut punch with a blow to Tron’s jaw. Tron groaned and spat a big glob of blood to the concrete on the ground.

  “You’re lucky I’m in these cuffs,” Tron said trying to eat the pain shooting through his body. “You’ll see me for that.”

  “Add threatening a detective to his charges,” Detective Hanes said as he headed back to his squad car. “Take him in.”

  The officers near him forced Tron to stand up straight before tugging him to a squad car. They forced his head down and pushed him inside the uncomfortable backseat of the vehicle before shutting the door and getting in themselves. As they drove away, they passed the Range Rover, and although the windows were tinted, Tron was certain that he and Klax were holding the same solemn expression.

  Chapter 13

  “You change your life by changing your heart.”

  —Max Lucado

  Klax

  After watching Tron get bumped up, the answer to Klax’s problem had finally come. He figured that by paying the woman passing his car several hundred dollars to remove all of Tron’s guns from off of him, he had done his good deed. No truce would have to be carried out, and all Klax had to do was rid the world of Kyan for everything to go back to normal. What had taken place might have been Tron’s Karma coming back to bite him, or maybe fate was tempting another hand. However, something about it all still didn’t feel right. Although he was used to the fast life, the past few weeks had gone too quickly for Klax. Just a few days ago, he wanted to kill Tron in his tracks, but not so much anymore . . . which was how he ended up at his sister’s place the next morning.

  “Uh-uh, you can’t come up in here and not explain why you weren’t at the bakery’s biggest event,” Kleigh said when she opened the front door. It was early morning, and she was in a silk leopard print pants pajama set with a red silk robe. She blocked the entrance and put a hand on her hip. “And I didn’t hear from you at all yesterday! You had me worried sick!”

  “My bad,” Klax said, putting his nose in the air to smell the aroma coming from her home. “You cooked?”

  “Nope.”

  “Girl, I smell that bacon. Open this door,” he told her with a grin.

  She smacked her lips and added an eye roll for effect before she allowed him entrance. The smell was even more pleasant inside, and knowing her, the food tasted even better. He had to admit, Kleigh was gifted in a kitchen. She could make anything taste delicious, even if it was just a grilled cheese sandwich. He went to the kitchen and was about to grab a piece of bacon, but she smacked his hand.

  “Boy, you better wash your hands! You might have been with some nappy-headed hoochie last night.”

  “The only nappy-headed hoochie in my life is you,” Klax said, eyeing her bed head. “You probably got a few birds in that shit.”

  “See! Nope, get out!” Kleigh said, pretending to be offended. “I can be ugly in my house in peace if I want.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere until you tell me how the mayor’s event went,” Klax said and obediently
washed his hands in her kitchen sink.

  She handed him two napkins. One to dry his hands, and one so that he could wipe his hands while he was eating. She pointed to the table and commenced to filling his plate with eggs, bacon, and her homemade French toast.

  “It was probably one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Everybody loved the desserts, like, loved them. We even booked a few more upcoming events, so I’d say that it was a success. I wouldn’t have to tell you how it went if you were there,” she told him. “You’re the one who plugged me with the mayor in the first place. I would have thought you’d want to see firsthand that I didn’t do anything to jeopardize your shit.”

  “That could never happen. You’re the best,” Klax said, bowing his head to say his grace.

  His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see the fond smile she gave him. Kleigh made her plate and sat down across from him before saying her own grace and taking a big bite of her food.

  “Oh!” she said and hurried to chew. “You haven’t been answering any of your phones, but while I was there, the mayor told me something.”

  “What?”

  “She said that you might be a suspect for the explosion. Apparently, some detectives have been coming around.”

  “Yeah, I know about that already,” Klax said, thinking back to the night before and what he heard.

  “They already questioned you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Before Kleigh could get another question in, a phone began to ring. By the girlish ringtone, Klax knew that it wasn’t his phone. It was hers. He lifted his head and watched her grab it from her pocket and look at the screen. She made a face.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. It looks like a jail number,” she told him. “And I don’t know anybody locked up, so it must be the wrong numb—”

  Klax took the phone from her hand before she was done talking. Truth be told, he hadn’t just gone over to her house because she made a mean breakfast meal, nor was it just to check on her. The woman he’d sent to remove all of Tron’s guns was also supposed to pass on a message to call Kleigh’s phone in the morning. When he looked down and saw that it was indeed a jail call, Klax figured either Tron understood the message, or he was going to call Kleigh anyway. Klax answered and went through all of the prompts to take the call.

  “Hello?” he heard Tron come through on the other hand.

  “I see you got my message,” Klax spoke.

  “It took me a minute; I can’t even front. Shorty threw me for a loop. Good looking out on all that, though. You ain’t have to do it.”

  “I know,” Klax told him. “If it were me in your shoes, I hope you would have done the same thing.”

  “That’s how I roll. Get down, lie down. On God, nem.”

  “Word. But what’s good with it? How are they treating you in there?” Klax asked, ignoring Kleigh, who was mouthing, “Who is that?”

  “Ain’t shit good,” Tron told him. “They said they’re gon’ hold me in this bitch without bond until my first court date. And that’s a whole thirty days away. I’m gon’ miss my dad’s funeral.”

  “Don’t even sweat that shit, G,” Klax tried to assure him.

  “Unless you gon’ work a miracle for a nigga, I’m speaking facts,” Tron said. “Just do me a favor. Handle all that for me.”

  “I can’t even do that for you,” Klax told him.

  “I figured you’d change your mind about all this shit since I’m in here now. It’s cool; don’t even worry about it. I’m thinking this is where I belong anyway. I fucked up too bad.”

  “Nah, don’t speak like that. Everything is still everything this way. I only said I can’t do it because that’s your ride to catch. I can carpool, but I ain’t driving by myself. Like I said, don’t worry about shit while you’re in there. I have the best lawyer in the city.”

  “Yeah, well, he gotta be a miracle worker to get me out of this shit.”

  “You just keep your head up in there and let me do the rest.”

  “Why you wanna help me, man?”

  “I don’t know,” Klax said, staring into his sister’s eyes. “But now, it looks like we have the same problem. I’m gonna go ’head and get off this phone. I think somebody else might want to hear from you. You got a pen and some paper? Take my number down.”

  He gave Tron his main cell phone number before handing the phone to his sister. Kleigh was skeptical about taking the phone at first, but he insisted. She finally took it and placed it to her ear.

  “H-hello?” Pause. “Tron? What are you doing in jail? Is that why I haven’t heard from you? And how do you know my brother?”

  Klax finished his food in the time it took Tron to answer her questions. Just in case she was furious when she disconnected the phone, he at least wanted to get kicked out on a full stomach. He watched a few tears fall from her eyes as she talked to him and heard the crack in her voice when she asked him what his charges were.

  “Arson? T-they think you had something to do with the explosion? Well, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about because you didn’t do it.” Pause. “Right?” Pause. “Tron?”

  Suddenly, she withdrew the phone from her ear and just looked at it as if it were a foreign object. Klax went to reach for it, but her eyes jerked up, and she glared at him. Before he knew it, he had to duck quickly because she had launched the device at his head. It missed him by a couple of centimeters and went flying into the living room behind him.

  “What the fuck is going on, Klax?” she demanded.

  “Damn, Kleigh! You almost hit me!” he exclaimed.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “The phone disconnected before he could give me a yes or no answer about the explosion. Or tell me how he knows you. When we went out, he said verbatim to me that he doesn’t know you. Did he . . . Did he do it? But why would he do that if y’all know each other? Wait!” Her eyes widened as if something had just dawned on her. “Is he one of your goons, Klax? Did you have him looking after me? He is, isn’t he?”

  “N-yes,” Klax lied, relieved that she had given him an out.

  “Really?” Kleigh asked and seemed genuinely hurt. “So, all this was just fake? He didn’t even really like me? He was just following orders?”

  “Well,” Klax said, contemplating on letting her hate Tron. He still wasn’t too fond of him running around with her or his plan to use her to get to him, but things weren’t the same anymore. “He was supposed to watch you. So if he did anything extra besides that, knowing the risk of me killing him for it, I’m guessing it was because he liked you.”

  “Really?” Kleigh asked, blinking away the tears in her eyes.

  “Really,” Klax told her, reaching over the table to wipe the corner of her eye. “Now, dry your eyes. You’re too pretty to look so ugly when you cry.”

  “OK,” she said, smiling at his last sentence.

  “My bad, sis. You know me, overly protective big brother Klax in the flesh. But to answer your question, no, he didn’t do that shit. But I have it handled. I don’t want you to worry your pretty head with my affairs. For the next few days, you’ll notice heightened security measures, so I don’t need you sneaking around, you hear me, Kleigh? Shit’s getting real right now, and the streets are hot. Until I can cool ’em off again, I need to know that you’re straight, a’ight? I want you to stay with Mama for a while. And you’ll have to close the bakery until further notice.”

  “Close the bakery? You do know that you just said not to worry, but then gave me a lot of reasons to worry. What’s really going on, Klax? Looking in your face, I can tell something has you on edge. Talk to me.”

  “Somebody wants a piece of what I have, and to get it, ain’t no telling what they’ll do. So, just in case, I’m taking all precautions. Just know I got it handled; trust me. Now, get dressed and pack a few things. I can drop you off on the way to my crib.”

  “I
don’t want to go stay with Mama,” Kleigh told him. “I’ll be fine here at home. Just have Drop or whoever else stand watch.”

  “I don’t know, Kleigh.”

  “Well, what’s the difference of me being there or me being here? I don’t really want to be cooped up in that house with her. You know when she gets to talking, she doesn’t stop. I want some kind of peace.”

  “Fair enough, but if that’s the case, I’ma have somebody outside your door too.”

  “Fine.”

  “Don’t be in here wilding.”

  “My nigga is in jail. There ain’t much I can really do.”

  Klax opened his mouth, but then quickly shut it, making a disgusted face. Kleigh laughed at his expression and shrugged her shoulders. Suddenly, Klax’s face grew serious, and he raised a brow at her.

  “You’re still a virgin, right?”

  “Get out!” she shouted and pointed at the door. “Bye! Call me when I can get some of my freedom back. And make sure all of my employees get compensated for this shit.”

  Chapter 14

  “You and I will always be unfinished business.”

  —Anonymous

  Adonis

  “Deeper! Please, baby, go deeper!” Bahli shouted into the fabric of Adonis’s pillows. She was bent over, and Adonis was behind her digging her out doggie style. He was in heaven watching himself slip and slide all in her sticky goodness, but it was too good. So good that he wanted it to last awhile. He knew if he went too hard, then that would be all she wrote.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he warned.

  “I can take it,” she pleaded.

  “Let me enjoy this pussy,” he told her, still stroking her at his own pace, and she smacked her lips.

  “I’ll do it myself then,” she said, tossing her long weave over her shoulder to look back at him.

  There was a devious look in her eyes right before she gripped the soft bed under her for support and began throwing her pussy back on him viciously. Her walls tightly gripped his shaft, and he felt his eyes begin to roll in the back of his head.