Country Boy 3

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Country Boy 3 Page 12

by Blake Karrington

“Bumpy?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “What about him, Q?”

  “Can you trust him Dame?”

  “Quentel, dat nigga has saved my life damn near a dozen times.”

  Dame then told Quentel the history of his friendship with the OG.

  After he’d finished, Quentel responded “That’s some deep shit Dame. There’s no doubt with me about his trust.”

  “What’s next?” Dame asked

  “I'll let you know soon enough, bro.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Truth Be Told”

  “Officer Vie, you have an outside call on line one.” Wanda paged her.

  “Thanks Wanda, put them through please.”

  “Rachel,” a voice said on the other end of the line.

  Vie smiled, knowing that it could be only one person calling her by her first name like that; her sister.

  After years of struggling with the loss of both their parents, and the misfortunes of different foster homes, her sister had finally gotten her life on the right track. No more dancing for money inside strip clubs, or hosting bachelorette parties just to make ends meet. She enrolled in and completed a two year paralegal course, and was now aiming for her law degree. Vie could not have been more proud of her, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her sister.

  “Hi there, Bobbie”

  “Hello sis. Please tell me that you’re on your way out the door?” Bobbie immediately started to complain.

  Rachel sighed before responding. “I just shut down my computer, my dear sister. And no, I will not be one minute late for your dinner function.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise you that much.”

  “What do you mean that much? Why you say it like that?”

  “Because Bobbie, I am not familiar with any of your friends now. They are all like…you know, basically strangers to me.”

  “Look Rachel. The only people besides you and I that are going to be there are my boss Asia, her cousin Kemba and one of their friends from law school. So loosen up and stop being so hermit the frog like,” she teased.

  “So now my baby sister is comparing me to a frog?”

  “Not my sister, but her ways.” Bobbie corrected her.

  “Whatever! I’m leaving now,” Rachel said.

  “Muah, muah, muah….I love you big sis,” Bobbie said before disconnecting their call. She immediately pushed her boss’s intercom button.

  “Yes.”

  “Mrs. Ellis, this is your passionate, loyal, and very dedicated secretary, and this slight interruption of your very busy schedule is only to remind you of your already planned, prepared and already paid in full dinner arrangements tonight…for which we will be leaving at 6:00 sharp.”

  Asia smiled to herself. “Is that an order Bobbie?” She teased.

  “A direct order,” She answered.

  “Oh, I guess you’re the boss now, huh?”

  “No, I’m not, and neither are you. I get off at five p.m. sharp, it’s now 5:01.” she said before bursting out in laughter.

  “I concur, but remember, miss I don’t have a boss…Monday is just around the corner.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Bobbi said.

  “Try me,” Asia threatened.

  “Okay…okay…okay…you win Boss Lady,” Bobbie said finally giving in.

  “Thank you dear. Now could we please get going…I’m starving.” Asia complained. “Where are we eating anyway?” she asked.

  “We have reservations at The Delta Restaurant.”

  “Nice.” Asia said. “And expensive.”

  __________

  Officer Vie was having one of the best times of her life. Most importantly, she was ecstatic over her younger sister’s success. Her friends all seemed to be well grounded, secure, and well established people.

  “I am so proud of you,” Vie attempted to whisper to her sister, but was unsuccessful, due to the four long island ice teas she’d already consumed.

  “Okay Vie, you’ve already told me that enough tonight, I believe you.”

  “But I’m serious baby sis,” she slurred again.

  “I know you are. I know you are.”

  “So Vie, I hear that you’re a police officer. I can only imagine what that must be like, writing tickets and all,” Asia said.

  “I don't write tickets, thank you.”

  “Oh, my bad, what type of officer are you then, Vie?”

  “The kind that gets her man every single time,” she slurred.

  “I understand,” Asia said.

  “No you don’t understand.” Vie said. “I have made some of the biggest drug arrests ever, in three different states. And you know what else? Just because I’m a woman, I don’t get the respect I deserve. None of us girls get the credit we deserve.”

  Asia knew Bobbie’s sister was a little tipsy. But what she’d just said rang true throughout the workforce for women in whatever line of work they chose.

  “That’s true Vie,” Asia agreed, no longer interested in the subject, but Vie pressed on.

  “Take this case that I’m working on, now. My boss, who is a man, calls me into his cigar stenched office, and offers me a case that he obviously has no chance at solving. Can you believe that he wants me to exploit my skills, so he can cash in on all the glory?”

  “Sounds like a difficult case,” Bobbie said.

  “Difficult yes, but personal also.”

  “What do you mean personal, Vie?” Desirae asked, her lawyer instincts showing.

  “Well this case is big, very big actually, but I’ve already found a ton of flaws.”

  “Like what, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “For starters, this entire investigation has been labeled a narcotics case.”

  “There’s nothing unusual about that,” Bobbie stated.

  “It is when the lead suspect has been out of the drug game for years.”

  “That’s weird,” Asia said. “Are there any homicides involved?”

  “None that any one inside the investigation was convicted of, but yes, as a matter of fact, there have been several shootings related to the case. But still, none pointing directly at the main target.” Vie stopped speaking, then snapped her fingers.

  “Our target did have a shooting occur at his home several months ago. In fact, his wife was shot during what the police report claimed was a home invasion.”

  “Sounds like a dangerous case, and an even more dangerous man,” her sister Bobbie said. “Please be careful, Vie.”

  “I understand your concerns sis, but this is where things really get complicated.”

  “What do you mean Vie?”

  “Well, I’ve already met him.”

  “The main target, you mean?”

  “Yes, and he doesn’t fit the description of any of the above.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m serious Bobbie .I’ve been involved in a lot of different cases, there is something different about this one.”

  “Do you think you will be able to crack it?”

  “Sure I will. It’s just a baffling case, that’s all.”

  “That’s what you get for working in all those big cities,” Asia teased.

  “Actually it’s in a small town about the size of this table,” Vie said.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, not far from here. Have you ever heard of Rockingham, NC.?”

  As soon as the words Rockingham NC, left her lips, Desirae spit half of her drink from her mouth, spraying the whole group.

  Thirty minutes later, she sat at the table, still surrounded by the girls, her body numb from her mouth all the way down to her toes at the news her employee’s sister had moments ago revealed. Her sole intentions were to destroy Quentel’s life, by any means necessary. But what could she do? She’d already been warned never to have any type of contact with Quentel Jackson again, ever.

  “I have to go,” she suddenly said

  “What?” Bobbi e asked />
  “I said I have to go.” Asia said, standing to leave.

  “So soon? It’s still early,” Vie said.

  “Yes, I have an early appointment tomorrow.”

  Before they could pester her with more questions, Desirae was heading out the door.

  “Call me!” she heard Bobbie shout.

  Before Asia reached her BMW coupe, she was already crying. Once inside, she took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

  “Calm down. Calm down. Calm down,” she kept telling herself.

  After gaining control of her senses, Asia began trying to sort this whole situation out.

  This woman was out to destroy him. Desirae knew that Bobbie had endured a troubled past. It was one of the main reasons that she gave her the opportunity to work for her. She had suffered similar circumstances. Somewhere along the course of their upbringing, drugs had caused them considerable pain.

  Asia could easily tell that by the venom in Vie’s voice when she talked. She wanted to see anyone associated with or around drugs either dead or rotting in jail for the rest of their life.

  “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” She kept saying. “I have to tell him, there is no way I can betray him again. But how? How will I be able to warn him without being killed myself? A letter maybe no... no, a letter wouldn’t be good enough,” she mumbled to herself.

  Asia willed herself to a chilling conclusion; she would tell Q face to face.

  Somehow…someway.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “It's About to Go Down”

  Baby Rasta patted his swollen belly, then burped loudly.

  “Where ye manners mun?” Inga complained.

  “Sorry, but I feel full as ever mun. Like a stuffed pig mun.” Inga smacked her lips loudly.

  “Baby brother you lazy as eva, lazy as eva mun”

  Van laughed at them both as they continued to argue back and forth.

  Meanwhile, Q was in the final days of Skull Jr.’s keep. For the past six and half weeks, the two of them had rarely been apart. Q always felt that if any dog of his was going to risk his life by going into a pit; he would at least know that he’s got a friend willing to step inside with him. So, for the past six weeks, they did everything together. When it was time to train, they did it together. When it was time to eat, shit, and sleep, they did that together also.

  Baby Rasta watched as Q made his way over to where they were.

  “It’s almost time,” Baby Rasta mumbled.

  “Time for what mun?” Inga asked.

  Van didn’t speak, but she could easily tell there was something different about Q. The way he walked towards them. The poise; it was as if he was gliding when he walked. Every step was punctuated by rippling muscle fibers expanding and contracting under his black skin.

  Van stood up. “I’ll go pack some clothes for him, Baby Rasta.”

  “Alright mun.”

  “What tis going on mun?” Inga asked, still sounding confused.

  “Baby Rasta, can I have a word with you?”

  He looked over at Inga then continued, “alone.”

  “Yea Mun.We talk…we talk.rit now mun.”

  Inga gave them both a wicked look, then walked back inside the house to look for Van.

  “I’m ready to get this over with Ras.”

  “I thought as much, mun. Me seen it in your eyes, this morning. What’s your plan mun?”

  After Q had laid out the details of his plan to Baby Rasta, he sat quietly, waiting on a response.

  “I like it mun..Baby Ras thinks it will work mun ...wicked...wicked I say!”

  __________

  Scar walked through his old neighborhood, the concrete jungle of the Soundview housing projects. This was where it had all began for him and his former friend Dame. This day wasn‘t much different from the days of old. Scar was feeling like his old self again. He flexed his left arm into a ball of corded muscle. That hundred stacks was well worth it, he smiled. Damn, it was good to feel normal again.

  Scars new connect was from out of Trinidad. He had an older brother who had suffered a massive stroke a couple years back. His new connect had sought out and found the best rehab specialist in all of New York, and some made the case that he was one of the best in the world. Scar was told by his connect that his brother was walking normal again within six months. He was very expensive, but worth every penny.

  “Nigga you back, son,” someone shouted, snapping Scar back to the present

  It was his new stickman, Albino Mike.

  “You damn right, a nigga back,” Scar screamed back, then flexed his once again heavily muscled frame. He sported close to 240 lbs of gristle and muscle.

  Before walking over towards Albino Mike, Scar looked over to his left at the yellow and black crime tape waving in the wind gentle breeze.

  “Damn fool,” he mumbled to himself, thinking of the man and woman who tried to set up a dope spot in his side of Soundview.

  Thoughts of hearing their necks snap, gave him an immediate rush. He shook the thoughts from his mind, but not before wondering who would be his next victim.

  “What up my nigga?” he said, giving Albino Mike a pound.

  “What up son?

  “Yo son, where Black, J-bo, and Squeeze?” Scar asked him.

  “They just pulled out, heading back down south,” Albino Mike said.

  “You mean dem niggas headed back to North Carolina already, B?”

  “Word up son, Black and them done hit the jackpot down there, yo. They getting ill money son, ill fuckin money,” he said again.

  Scar stood silent, once again lost in the remnants of his thoughts. With his connect, he could make a couple of moves down south and be rich within a six month period. The same capsules he was selling on the block here for $5.00, he could easily breakdown and sell for $40.00.

  As if reading his mind, Albino Mike said, “damn son, if we had a spot like that, we could be on top of the world in six months my nigga.”

  “What if I told you that I know of such a spot?”

  “What! Son, are you serious, B?”

  “Dead serious, son.”

  “What you waiting for? Tell me about it then, nigga.”

  “I will, but right now, I need you to roll with me somewhere.”

  “Cool, where we heading to?”

  “To meet with an old acquaintance.”

  Thirty minutes later, Scar sat and listened carefully to the words Bumpy spoke.

  “So you know this nigga personally, huh?” Scar demanded to know.

  “Yes I do, I told you me and his uncle go way back.”

  “You know your life will depend on this shit going down proper, right?” Scar said, then grabbed Bumpy by his shirt front, snatching him up on his tip-toes.

  He had just balled his big fist into a tight ball, when he heard the faint sound of a metallic click coming from somewhere near the center of his gut.

  Scar froze, his hand relaxed.

  “Get yo hands off me, young buck,” the OG whispered in a deadly tone. “Right now, or die!” he continued.

  Scar looked the OG directly in his eyes and saw death dilating his pupils. He could not feel the slightest tremble coming from the OG’s hand, which was a sure sign that he meant every word he’d just said.

  Albino Mike, Kush and another one of Scar’s recruits snatched their guns and were now pointing them at Bumpy.

  “You want me to smoke this nigga, Scar?” Albino Mike asked, his gun pointed at Bumpy’s head. Bumpy never looked in Albino Mike’s direction. Instead, he kept his deadly gaze locked on Scar.

  “It’s your call young buck. I couldn’t care less. I have nothing left here on this earth worth living for, but a fuckin’ dope habit, that I can’t support.”

  “Let me smoke this old muthafucka, son,” Albino Mike asked again.

  Scar was no fool, he knew the OG was gutter serious. If Albino Mike was to shoot him, the old nigga’s twitching nerves would easily set off the
trigger, more than likely killing him also.

 

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