by K'wan
“Knowledge don’t strike me as the type to bring no ghetto ho around Big Stone. She’s probably some fake bourgeois bitch who gonna be in there drinking wine with her pinkie out.” Marissa faked the motion for emphasis.
“I don’t care what kind of chick she is, so long as she stays in her lane and recognizes who the boss bitch is.”
The ringing of the pink phone on Pearl’s nightstand interrupted their conversation. She snatched the cordless from the base and looked at the caller ID. It was an unknown number. Still she sighed, as she knew who it was and what he was calling about.
Marissa read the distressed look on her face. Who that? she mouthed.
“You know who.” Pearl rolled her eyes.
“Damn, that boy is determined.” Marissa laughed.
“I ain’t even picking up.” Pearl moved to put the phone back on the base, but Marissa stopped her.
“Nah, I got it.” Marissa snatched the phone from her before she could protest. “Stone residence,” she answered.
“Ah … Pearl?” the voice stammered on the other end.
“No, this isn’t Pearl. You wanna leave another message, or keep ringing my girl’s phone on some loco shit?” she taunted him.
“Who is this? That crazy Spanish bitch Marissa? Stop playing with me and put Pearl on the phone!” he snapped.
“Bitch? Who you calling a bitch, wit’ you ol’ sprung ass? Pearl is busy and she’s gonna be busy every time you call, so get yourself a clue and knock it the fuck off before you get fucked up!” Marissa shouted.
“Gimme.” Pearl took the phone back from her. “Devonte, please stop calling me. I told you I ain’t got shit to say to you.”
“Pearl, I know I lost my temper the other night, but—”
“Lost your temper? More like lost your fucking mind. After that insane shit you pulled trying to snatch me off my block you’re lucky I ain’t got niggas at your crib right now, tossing your ass up. Boy, you got issues I ain’t equipped to deal with. Do us both a favor and lose my number.” She slammed the phone down. “This nigga is on my last nerves,” she huffed.
“Why don’t you just get your number changed?” Marissa asked.
“Because then I’d have to explain to my father why I want it changed,” Pearl pointed out. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?”
“The better question is, what were you doing behind closed doors that got him all out of his mind? My mother always told me good pussy is way more dangerous than a gun.”
“Tell me about it.” Pearl flopped on the bed next to Marissa. “It’s like ones you want to be rid of won’t leave and the ones you want to keep won’t stay. I attract all the wrong types of guys.”
“The last one you met at the bar seemed cool. What was his name, Diamonds?” Marissa asked.
Pearl sucked her teeth. “Fuck that nigga.”
“Wow, a few days ago he was all you could talk about. What brought on the sudden change?”
“He showed me who he really was.” Pearl flipped open her phone and started scrolling through her call log.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Diamonds sat cross-legged on the cot in his cell. His eyes were closed, and his breaths short and measured. He was trying to move as little as possible as to slow the poison working its way through his bloodstream. The fever had subsided a bit, but he could still feel the ache in his joints. Time was definitely not his friend in this situation.
Since he was a kid running barefoot through the swamps Diamonds had always been careful, thinking and rethinking every move before he made it. This is how he had been able to make it as far as he had. He was always one step ahead of his enemy, knowing what moves they would make before he did, but something had changed. He could think of a dozen people to point the finger at for his misfortune, but ultimately the blame was solely on him. He’d grown cocky and overconfident, buying into his own hype, and that’s how a half-wit like Big Slim had been able to get the drop on him.
This raised another burning question in his head: How did Big Slim know where to find him after all this time? The obvious answer would’ve been Dip’s snake ass. Dip was a former member of Diamonds’ crew, who had stolen two kilos of heroin from them before they left New Orleans. Goldie had wanted to track him down and kill him for it, but Diamonds figured it wasn’t worth the effort. They had more than enough dope to get them started and the two kilos hardly made a dent in their supply. He was sure Slim had tracked Dip down first, probably torturing him before ending his worthless life, but even so all Dip knew was that Diamonds and his crew were headed to Texas after leaving New Orleans. They had run through at least a half dozen cities before landing in New York and they never shared their real plans with any of the mercenaries they’d employed in those cities. The only people who knew their final destination were those in their immediate circle, so that meant somebody was playing both sides.
Footfalls in the hall outside his cell pulled Diamonds from his thoughts. He quickly slipped back under the tattered blanket and pretended to be asleep. The door opened and Diamonds made out the silhouette of a man too big to be Brother Minister, but not big enough to be Big Slim. The man paused in the doorway and spoke to someone Diamonds couldn’t see. There were only two of them as near as he could tell. Not the best odds, but not the worse either.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” The man flicked on the overhead light.
Diamonds squinted, trying to clear his vision. The man standing over him was one of his captors, the one he had come to know as Blue. Diamonds had been hoping it was the other one, Tariq. Tariq had been especially cruel in his treatment of Diamonds and he was hoping to repay the favor sooner than later. Diamonds sat up slowly, as if he were just coming out of a deep slumber. “Top of the morning, boys … or is it afternoon? Maybe evening? When you been in the dark for a time, one feels the same as the other,” he said with a scratchy throat.
“Somebody wants to see you,” Blue told him. “Now I’m gonna cut you loose and you’re gonna play nice. If you don’t, I’m gonna put you in a world of hurt.” He inched toward Diamonds with the key to his shackle.
“Your rules, I’m just playing the game.” Diamonds flashed him a weak smile.
“Quit being scared. That boy is in such bad shape I doubt he could wipe his own ass let alone hurt you,” someone called from the doorway. Diamonds recognized the voice as Tariq’s.
“Shut up, and just make sure you cover me,” Blue said over his shoulder. Keeping his eyes on Diamonds, he knelt down and removed the shackle. “Now get up,” he ordered.
Diamonds pushed off the bed and stood. He rocked once before crashing to the floor as if his legs couldn’t support him. “Apologies, I must’ve left my dancing shoes in my other luggage.”
Blue looked down at Diamonds in disgust. “This nigga is in worse shape than I thought. What the fuck did y’all do to him?” he asked Tariq.
“That wasn’t on me. I knocked him around a little bit, but it was Big Slim who took it to him with that funny-looking knife. Maybe he’ll bleed out and we can be done with his ass,” Tariq said.
“Get you country ass up.” Blue snatched Diamonds to his feet. He threatened to fall again, but Blue was able to steady him by draping his arm around his neck.
“I don’t think I like you much. Brother Minister is a heap more polite than you two,” Diamonds said, swaying against Blue like he was drunk.
“Well, your new bridge partner is out handling something for Big Slim, so you’re stuck with us,” Blue told him as began half dragging Diamonds toward the door.
“Jesus, I can smell him from over here.” Tariq fanned the stench coming from Diamonds’ soiled body.
“Why don’t you help me carry him instead of complaining?”
“Slim ain’t paying me enough to touch that rank muthafucka,” Tariq said.
Diamonds listened to the men argue back and forth while waiting for his window of opportunity. He was tempted to make his move early, but had to wait for just the
right time or it would be for nothing. When Blue dropped his guard to adjust Diamonds’ weight, he knew it was time.
Blue was caught totally by surprise when Diamonds grabbed him in a headlock and yanked his head back. From his waistband Diamonds drew the bedspring he had worked loose while he and Brother Minister had been talking and hooked the sharp edge into the soft flesh of Blue’s throat.
“Shoot this nigga!” Blue shouted at Tariq.
The stunned Tariq drew his gun, but couldn’t get a clear shot.
“Try it if you got a mind to, but I doubt that you’re that good of a shot. Even on the slim chance that you are, I’ll rip this nigga open before you take me down,” Diamonds hissed. Tariq lowered his gun. “That’s more like it. Now the first thing you gonna do is kick that gun down the hall where it can’t do no harm and then you’re gonna tuck yourself in that cell.” He would’ve rather had the gun, but there was no way he could get to it without releasing his grip on Blue.
Reluctantly, Tariq did as he was told and kicked the gun away. Keeping his eyes on Diamonds he stepped into the cell. “Big Slim is gonna kill you for this.”
“If he was smart he’d have done that the moment he snatched me,” Diamonds taunted him before kicking the door closed behind him. “How we get outta here?” he asked Blue.
“I ain’t telling you shit!” Blue spat.
“Is that right?” Diamonds pulled the bedspring, widening the tear in Blue’s throat.
“A’ight, a’ight!” Blue yelled. “Down the hall and to the right.”
“Let’s go.” Diamonds started pulling him down the hallway. They had made it halfway to the door Blue had directed him to when it opened and a man stepped through it. For a half second Diamonds took his eyes off Blue, but it was all the time needed to dash his plan to hell. Pain shot through his entire midsection as Blue’s elbow shot into it, opening up his stitches and causing him to lose his grip on the bedspring. Blue followed with an elbow to his jaw that would’ve put him on his back had it not been for the wall holding him up. Things were going south very quickly.
The man who had distracted him now entered the fray and grabbed Diamonds from behind in a reverse bear hug. He struggled, but between his injuries and the poison didn’t have the strength to break the hold. Diamonds watched as Blue stalked toward him with murder in his eyes.
“I’ll bet you thought that shit was cute, huh?” Blue sneered. He reached up and yanked the bedspring from his neck, dripping blood down his shirt. He took a few seconds to examine the weapon. “Nice little shank you made here,” he said before slashing Diamonds across the face with it. “Pretty sharp too. Hold that nigga up.”
While the minion held Diamonds, Blue started waling on him, paying special attention to his injured stomach. Diamonds coughed blood onto Blue’s shoes, which only seemed to make him angrier. He slugged Diamonds over and over, while the minion holding him cheered Blue on. Diamonds was in so much pain that he wanted to lay down and die, but he knew death was a mercy Slim wouldn’t allow him until he was finished with his little game.
“Please … no more,” Diamonds begged.
“Don’t quit on me now, tough guy.” Blue tilted his head up so he could get a clean shot at Diamonds’ chin. When he fired the blow, Diamonds moved his head to one side and Blue ended up slugging the minion instead, causing him to lose his grip on Diamonds.
Diamonds fired his head backward, knocking out two of the minion’s teeth and freeing himself. Without missing a beat, he kicked Blue square in the nuts and put him down. Summoning what strength he had left Diamonds bolted.
The minion drew his gun and prepared to fire, but Blue stopped him. “Don’t waste the bullet. He ain’t going nowhere.”
* * *
Diamonds half ran, half staggered down the hallway toward the door. He was bleeding out, winded, and in terrible pain but had to keep going. He pushed through the door, which let him out into another hallway. He pressed his back against the door, looking around frantically trying to get his bearings. To his left there was a stairwell leading up to another door. Through the small window in it he could see the sun shining. Freedom! the word exploded in his head. He listened for a moment, expecting to hear Blue and the minion on his heels, but there was nothing. Why weren’t they chasing him? Pushing the question from his head, Diamonds lurched forward and hit the stairs.
When he reached the door at the top, he tried the handle and prayed that it wasn’t locked. For once, God listened to him. When Diamonds stumbled out into the afternoon sun and took stock of his surroundings, the sliver of hope he’d been holding on to drained away. He now understood why Blue and the minion hadn’t bothered to chase him. The whole time he’d assumed that Big Slim was holding him in a basement or warehouse, but he had been wrong. The only way Diamonds would be escaping this prison was on a boat.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Diamonds heard someone behind him say before something heavy slammed into his head and everything went black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After dropping Domo off at the train station, Buda and the rest of his gang rolled back to the stash house, which was a one-story house located in the Bronx. The owner of the house was a drug addict who would let them have the run of the place so long as they kept her high. After all that had gone on, Buda didn’t think it wise that they continue to use the old one in Harlem because of all the heat they had been drawing lately. It was the only thing they seemed to unanimously agree on lately.
“Dump this ride and then meet us back here when you’re done,” Buda told Lucky as he gathered up their spoils and the pillowcase of guns.
“Man, why do I always have to do the grunt work?” Lucky complained. Ever since he had arrived in New York he’d either been the designated driver or errand boy and he was getting a little tired of it.
“Because I say so,” Buda replied. “If you got a problem with your position in this crew, I’m more than willing to give you a pistol and let you get dirty with the rest of us.”
“A’ight, man,” Lucky relented. He didn’t like the idea of letting the money out of his sight before he got his cut, but he liked the idea of arguing with Buda even less.
“Just as I thought. Don’t fret over it, homie. Your cut will be here waiting for you when you get back,” Buda said as if he could read Lucky’s mind.
Buda used they key he had been given and let himself into the house. The first thing he noticed was the unmistakable chemical smell of crack smoke hanging in the air. That meant the lady of the house, Mousey, was home. When he rounded the corner in the living room they found it a mess as usual. The carpet looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in weeks, and beer bottles lined the coffee table. On the couch were Mousey and her on-again-off-again boyfriend Tick. He was fast sleep with his head lolled back, while Mousey had her face buried in his lap with his dick hanging halfway out of her mouth. Apparently, she had passed out in the middle of giving him a blow job. It was the most comical thing Buda had ever seen, so he decided to have some fun with them.
“Hold this.” Buda handed the bag to Willie while he crept up on the sleeping crack fiends. He raised his massive hands and clapped them thunderously over their heads.
The sound scared Mousey awake and she reflexively clamped her teeth together over Tick’s flaccid penis. Pain shot through his member, causing him to leap to his feet, knocking her onto the coffee table and spilling what was left in the beer bottles onto the floor. Abandoning Mousey, Tick ran for the window thinking the spot was being raided when he spotted Buda doubled over laughing.
“That shit wasn’t funny, man,” Tick said, checking his dick to make sure it was still attached.
“Shit, it gave me a good laugh,” Buda said. “What the fuck I tell y’all about getting high up here in the living room making the spot hot? You wanna blast off, take that shit in the basement.”
“Last time I checked, this was my house.” Mousey was finally pulling herself up off the floor.
“A house t
hat they were about to foreclose on until I stepped into the picture,” Buda reminded her. “Now stop mouthing off and get your ass in the basement like a good little dog, so me and my people can talk business.”
Mousey and Tick gathered their things so they could move their party to the basement. As they were passing, Buda heard Mousey mumble, “Asshole,” under her breath.
“Fuck did you just say?” Buda asked, the amused grin suddenly gone from his face.
“She didn’t say nothing, man,” Tick lied.
“Was I talking to you, nigga?” Buda snapped. He moved in on Mousey. “I asked you to repeat yourself.”
“C’mon, Buda. I was just joking. You know how we do.” Mousey tried to laugh it off.
“No doubt, baby. We all good.” Buda flashed his crocodile grin. Just when everyone thought the moment would pass, Buda slapped Mousey across the face. The blow landed with so much force that she bounced off the wall before hitting the floor. “Junkie whore, don’t you ever in your life disrespect me in front of my people.” He kicked her in the ribs viciously.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Hank came out of the kitchen, gun drawn.
“Nothing, man. Just cracking some jokes, and a few ribs.” Buda laughed.
“Must you be an asshole all your life?” Hank shoved him away from Mousey, then knelt to check on her. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m straight,” Mousey lied. She wasn’t sure what hurt worse, the slap or the kick, but she was in a world of pain.
Hank helped Mousey to her feet and pressed a small package of drugs into her palm. “I’ll hook you up with a little something heavier later on, okay?” Mousey just nodded. Hank then turned to Tick, who was just standing there, scared shitless. “Make yourself useful and take her downstairs, you piece of shit. What kinda nigga won’t lift a finger to protect his woman?”
Tick lowered his head in shame. He wanted to help her, he truly did, but wanted no part of Buda’s wrath. He reached for Mousey, but she pulled away and descended the basement stairs. Tick gave Hank one last shameful look before following her.
