The Union

by Tremayne Johnson

  “Two miles,” Jimmy replied.

  The limousine slowed up at the Central Park Avenue exit in Yonkers and the two black Mercedes 500s that were tailing did the same.

  “Pull into the gas station,” Vinny ordered.

  Jimmy made a right turn into the Mobile gas station and pulled over by two giant gas tanks. The only car there was getting ready to pull off.

  Mikey checked his weapon and then reached to open the door. “Let me handle this, Pop.”

  “Sit down Mikey. I can take care of myself.” Vinny opened his door and stepped into a brisk, light wind that whistled at the few hairs that were left on his head. He buttoned his overcoat and watched the two 500s pull in behind him.

  Jimmy removed his revolver from the glove compartment and stepped out with Vinny.

  The occupants of the two Mercedes exited the vehicles, but Vinny only recognized Mox and Cleo. He had never seen the other three guys. They all donned dark, tailored suits and shiny shoes.

  Vinny kept his hands in his pockets while they approached. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors today.”

  “You should always expect the unexpected, old man.” Mox was standing ten feet in front of him.

  “Those are quite knowledgeable words coming from a dead man,” he smiled. “Cleo, I thought I asked you to do something?” Vinny studied Cleo’s mannerisms. He could tell that he didn’t want to be there.

  “I don’t take orders from you anymore, Vinny.”

  Mikey emerged from the backseat palming a black pistol. “Is there a problem here guys?”

  Upon sight, Mox’s men backed out weapons of their own and Jimmy sneakily eased toward the gas tanks.

  “However you wanna do it, Mikey. It’s your call, but we didn’t come here for that.”

  Vinny fumed. “Put that fuckin’ thing down. I told you I’ll take care of this. Now get back in the car.”

  “You heard your father, Mikey,” Mox teased.

  Mikey pressed him. “At least I know who my father is.”

  Mox threw a quick smirk to his team, and before Vinny could step in, the butt of his gun slammed down on Mikey’s face causing him to drop his pistol. His nasal bone cracked and a stream of blood shot onto Vinny’s coat.

  Mox cocked the weapon and shoved it under Mikey’s chin. “If your gun game was as slick as your tongue, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “Mox, not here!” Cleo yelled out.

  “Hey!” Jimmy screamed. He was standing by one of the giant gas tanks with his .32 revolver pointed directly at it. “Either you guys put the guns down, or we all die.” He was trembling and the lightweight firearm felt like a 100 pound dumbbell in his hand.

  Jimmy was 54 years old and had never fired a gun in his life. The only reason he kept one in the glove compartment was because he chauffeured a Mob Boss around the city every day and it made him feel like he was a part of that lifestyle.

  “I’m tellin’ you, I’ll shoot this damn thing and blow half the city up. Put ‘em down!”

  But nobody budged.

  Vinny attempted to calm him. “Easy Jimmy, I got it. Everything is cool.” He grilled the five men in front of him. “What do you want Mox?”

  Without removing the gun from Mikey’s throat, Mox dug in his pants pocket and pulled out the photo of him, his mother, and Casey. He shoved it in Vinny’s face.

  “My mother and father were killed in one of your buildings back in 95’. Did you know ‘em?”

  “Of course I knew ‘em.” Vinny stared at the picture. He knew the answers to all Mox’s questions. “But I ain’t the one you need to talk to.”

  Jimmy still had his gun aimed at the gas tank and Mikey was bleeding severely.

  “I wanna know what you know.”

  Vinny side-eyed Cleo. “Ask your aunt.”

  “Leave my mother outta this.” Cleo took a step forward.

  What did his Aunt have to do with this? Mox was thrown off. He recalled asking if she knew anything about the night of the murder, but she denied it.

  Mox eased off Mikey .

  “Cleo, you use to be a good kid.” Vinny moved forward. “You use to listen to me. Whatever I told you to do, you did.” he leaned in close to Cleo’s face. “I liked that about you. I ate, you ate. But now… now… you and Nino Brown over here wanna take over the world together huh? Fuck Vinny and the Telescos. Well, you know what Cleo… when you go to sleep with the snakes, don’t be surprised when you get bit.”

  “Fuck you Vinny!” Cleo snatched his weapon from the inside of his jacket and put it to Vinny’s head.”

  Jimmy screamed again. “You think I’m playing!” He pulled the hammer back with his thumb and had a round ready to go.

  “Hey, Cleo, I bet you never told the guys that you were the one who paid drunk Sunny to shoot up the bar and say Mox’s name.”

  “You’re a fuckin’ liar Vinny.” Cleo went to smash the old man in the head with the gun, but Mox grabbed his wrist.

  “We not gon’ do this here, Cleo.” Mox cut his eyes at Vinny. “This ain’t over.”

  Vinny breathed a sigh of relief once they backed away and re-entered their cars. He hadn’t planned on dying today, but what he had done was plant a seed of suspicion in Mox’s head. He was a wise old man if anything. He knew Mox would come for him as soon as he found out the truth. All he did was buy himself some time, because if Cleo and Mox were at war with each other, it was beneficial to him. He needed both of them out the way so he could execute his plan.

  __________

  “I knew you couldn’t fuck wit’ me nigga, you suck!” Tyrell tossed the PS3 controller at his homeboy Leo. He had just finished beating his ass in Madden for the third time in a row. “You see what I be doin’ out there wit’ that boy Ray Rice.” Tyrell fixed his arm like he was a running back holding the ball and mimicked the replay that was on the screen. “Uh, uh… a lil’ spin move, juke to the left. Uh! End zone nigga!”

  “Shut up nigga. You better keep your voice down before Dana come back out here and kick us out. I ain’t got nowhere to stay tonight my nigga.”

  “True… ‘cause she will kick yo’ ass out.” Tyrell laughed.

  He and Leo had been crashing at Dana’s for the past few weeks. She agreed to let them smoke and play the game in the crib as long as they watched Brandi while she was at school.

  Dana didn’t have a problem helping Mox out with his daughter. She was aware of the circumstances and wanted to be of any help she could. Besides, he was funding her $40,000 a year college tuition at Mount Sinai School of Medicine. He had no idea that Tyrell had been watching Brandi every night for the past month, due to the steady babysitter taking a vacation. Dana knew if he found out, he would be overly enraged, but she had no other choice. Tyrell had to watch Brandi until she found someone else.

  “Roll up that sour my nigga.” Tyrell tossed Leo a cigar and a Ziploc bag full of weed.

  Leo wiped his face with his hand and looked at the clock on the wall. “Damn son, its 5:30 already, the sun bout to come up.” They had been playing the game for hours. “Aight, lemme use the bathroom first.”

  Two minutes later Leo came out the bathroom and sat in the fold up chair.

  “You ain’t flush the toilet or wash your hands?”

  “Ain’t no water.”

  “What you mean?” Tyrell hurried to the kitchen and tried the faucet.

  Nothing.

  “What the fuc—”

  BOOM! BOOM BOOM! “Open up! New Rochelle Police Department!!”

  The instant Tyrell’s eyes hit the door, it was flying off the hinges.

  “Get on the floor! Now!” The tactical unit officer was dressed in a dark blue fatigue suit, a helmet and full bullet proof body gear and wielding a pump action, 12 gauge shotgun.

  Three more officers blitzed in and searched the rest of the apartment. An hour later, Tyrell, Leo and Dana were in handcuffs sitting in holding cells at the police station and Brandi was in the custody of the state.

 
Dana was stunned when the detectives explained the charges and the reason for the raid. She wanted to kill her cousin.

  Tyrell had been using the apartment as a trap house and his reckless behavior had cost Mox and Dana a huge loss. Police found $290,000 in cash, a 1/2 ounce of crack and a quarter pound of weed. The weed and crack was Tyrell’s, but the money belonged to Mox.

  As soon as the word got back to the street, Mox called a “Union” meeting.

  Marriott Hotel – New Roc City

  Mox walked into the 3rd floor meeting room of the Marriott in disarray. He looked defeated and fatigued, like he’d been up for days without a wink of sleep. His eyes held blood and his heart pumped misery while hellish thoughts bounced around his brain like someone pulled the lever on a pinball machine. The burden was coming down on him and the pressure was hastily building. Mox was resilient, and he vowed to let nothing hinder his commitment.

  His dress shirt hung out one side of his pants and his shoes were untied as he neared the ash wood table. Frank, Papi and Nate were the only ones physically present because Javier would be attending via iChat and Cleo had gone missing for the last week.

  Frank saw the strife on his partner’s face. “Mox, don’t worry we gon’ take care of this.”

  “I hope so, Frank. I feel like time might be runnin’ out. Anybody heard from Cleo?” They all said no. “Frank, did you get that information I asked for?”

  “Yup.” He passed Mox a ripped piece of paper with a name and address on it.

  Rita Davis

  255 Huguenot St.

  New Rochelle, NY

  Apt 12K

  Mox tucked the piece of paper into his pocket. “Okay. We gotta make a stop by there when we finish and I gotta go check my aunt. I also want you to go bail Dana and her little cousin out as soon as possible. I can’t have them sittin’ up in there. As far as the Telescos… we fall back for now. We don’t move until they force us to.” Mox sat on the end of the table tapping his knuckle on the wood. The strain was killing him.

  Nate responded. “You sure that’s the right thing to do? You know I can make that disappear.”

  “I know Nate. I just got so much shit I’m dealing with right now, I can barely focus.”

  Papi stood up. “Dats why we here, Papi. Ju know we got ju back.”

  “I think you should let Nate handle that, Mox. Take some of the pressure off you. That way we can focus on getting Brandi back and handling that other thing.” Frank suggested.

  Mox agreed. “You right. Nate, do that; and take Papi with you.”

  “Hey! You guys forget about me??” Javier broke the tension and made them all laugh. He was making his appearance through a video chat from a remote location.

  Mox looked amused for the first time in hours. “Wassup, bro. How’s the shoulder?”

  Javier tapped on his wounded arm to show it was healing well. “Muthafucka hit me wit’ a .45 Mox. I took that shit like a champ bro. I heard you took one too.”

  “A few pellets in the side, nothin’ crazy.” Mox lifted his shirt. The pellets ripped his abdomen to shreds. It looked like a sponge. “You out there takin’ care of business right?”

  “Of course. I should be able to set something up soon. I know you’ll love it out here. Beautiful women, beautiful weather and easy money, what more could you ask for.”

  “I bet. Listen, Javier, stay in contact with Papi. Make sure you check in so he can keep you informed. I’ma speak to you later.”

  The computer screen went blank and Papi shut the laptop down.

  “Before we step out this door and do what we gotta do,” Mox paused and took a good look over his team. “I jus’ wanna let each one of y’all know that I love y’all like brothers. I never had people as close to me as y’all are, and I appreciate the love. This shit is genuine. We all bosses here.”

  He pointed at each man and they rose from the seat they were sitting in. “No one man above the team.” Mox placed his right hand over his heart and each man followed suit. “From this day forward we pledge, under oath, to never take the stand against our fellow brothers. To never fuck each other’s wives and at all times remain loyal…” every face in the room had a cold, focused stare. “Til the heavens turn to dust and hell freezes over; let no-one stand before WE!”

  SIXTEEN

  Susan leaned against the bathroom sink and let the salty droplets fall from her eye wells to the porcelain tiles. She wiped her face for the hundredth time and tried to catch her breath. “Please stop!” she cried. With each bang on the door, her nerves would flinch. She was frightened and exhausted from putting up the fight of her life and barely getting away. For the last sixty minutes, she had been living out the most terrifying dream you could imagine and now she was locked in her own bathroom, praying that someone would come and save her.

  “Bitch, as soon as you open this door, I’ma fuckin’ kill you.” Cleo had his back against the bathroom door. He clenched a half gallon of Hennessy in his right hand and a 5 inch, sandal wood handle kitchen knife in the other. He was pissy drunk and his disposition was unstable. “Su-san!” he slurred and then turned the cognac bottle up to his lips. He lifted his right leg and horse kicked the bathroom door with his size thirteen Timberland.

  “Cleo, please stop! Why are you doing this to me?” Susan wiped her runny nose and tried to get her hands to stop shaking.

  Cleo kicked again, but this time, his foot crashed through the flimsy plywood door. He kicked some more to widen the hole and then he got down on the floor and stuck his head through the crack like Jack Nicholson in ‘The Shining’.

  “Heeeeere’s Johnny!” He laughed so hard, he started to cough. “Susan!” he screamed. After several unsuccessful attempts to reach the lock, Cleo finally got smart and used the knife to move the latch.

  Susan had nowhere to turn, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. She had to fight. She thought back on her previous abusive relationships and all the beatings she took from the men who claimed they loved her. Was this love? She felt like the only men she attracted were the ones that used physical force. It was a cycle. She watched her father violate her mother time and time again, so much so, that it became normal. If it didn’t happen, then something was wrong.

  She balled her fist so hard, her finger nails cut into her palm and she charged at Cleo as he came through the door. The Hennessy bottle slipped from his fingers and hit the floor. Shards of glass and cognac were everywhere.

  Susan took a chance and tried to reach for the knife in his hand, but slipped on the wet glassy tile and banged her head on the enamel steel bathtub. The impact instantly knocked her unconscious and she lay there, on her own bathroom floor, powerless and damn near dead.

  Cleo dropped the knife in the toilet and got down on the floor beside her. He was still in a drunken stupor. “Susan!” He shook her limp body, but she didn’t respond. He lifted her and held her in his arms. “Baby, get up.” he used the back of his hand to wipe the blood that leaked down the side of her mouth; the blood that he drew just an hour ago after he slapped her. “Baby,” he mumbled. “Get up.”

  Susan was still alive but her breaths were quick, short, and faint. If she didn’t receive medical attention soon, she would die.

  “I’m sorry, baby…” Tears washed Cleo’s face. He rocked her in his arms. “I’m sorry…”

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and snapped him out his drunkenness for a second. He dug it out and saw it was Mox calling. He quickly hit accept.

  “Mox, I need your help.” He looked down at Susan. She hadn’t moved yet.

  Mox could hear the panic in his voice. It sounded like he was crying. “Cleo, what happened? Where you at?”

  Cleo closed his eyes. “Mox, I’m sorry…” his voice got high.

  “Cleo!” Where are you?”

  “I’m at Susan’s.” He sniffled. “Mox hurry up, please.”

  “Where’s she at?”

  He whispered into the speaker. “She’s sleepin’”


  “Aight, I’ll be there, don’t move.”

  25 Minutes Later

  “Cleo!” Mox yelled as he pushed the door open to the brownstone. “Frank, call his cell phone back.” He removed the .40 caliber black Taurus from the double harness shoulder holster underneath his blazer.

  “He’s not answering, Mox.”

  The two of them cautiously ascended the steps to the second level and Mox hollered again. “Cleo, you in here!?”