by K'wan
On his way out the door, he looked over at Yvette, who was still knocked out on the couch, and wondered how the hell she was able to sleep through the banging.
The temperature outside had dropped since Chucky had last been out. It wasn’t quite morning yet, but in the distance the sky began to lighten. Ramses was leaning against his Lincoln Navigator flanked by two men Chucky recognized, but didn’t see too often, Huck and Boo. They were older heads, who had been running with Ramses since the eighties. Whenever they came out, somebody disappeared.
“Huck, Boo,” Chucky greeted them.
“What up, young blood?” Huck gave him dap. He was brown skinned and wore his hair in a close-cropped afro. As usual he was immaculately dressed in a suit jacket, white shirt, and black shoes polished to a high shine.
In contrast, Boo wore jeans and a sweat shirt. Whereas Huck was a gentleman, Boo was a goon. All he knew was putting in work and didn’t care to learn anything else. He looked at Chucky’s extended hand, but didn’t take it. He simply nodded in greeting. Boo had never been fond of Chucky, though he never said why.
“Jump in, Chucky,” Ramses said, climbing in on the passenger side of the Navigator, while Huck got behind the wheel.
Chucky climbed into the back of the SUV, while Boo got in beside him. When the doors closed, Chucky heard the click of the automatic locks. He glanced over his shoulder, to the rear row of the truck, and saw Li’l Monk and Omega. The both of them had worried expressions on their faces. When they pulled out into traffic, Chucky knew there was no turning back.
“Where’re we going, Ramses?” Chucky asked.
Ramses made eye contact with Chucky through the rearview. “To bear witness to the Pharaoh’s justice.”
The whole ride was spent in silence. Not even the radio played. Ramses kept his head forward, whispering to someone on his cell phone. He wouldn’t even look back at Chucky, which was a bad sign. Every so often Chucky would glance over his shoulder at Li’l Monk and Omega on the rear row, trying to get a sense of what had happened. Omega wouldn’t meet his gaze and Li’l Monk looked confused and nervous. Chucky didn’t like it.
Their destination was a condemned house, somewhere in the White Plains section of the Bronx. The house stood three stories tall and looked like it would collapse on itself at the first strong wind that touched it. The Navigator turned into the driveway and pulled to the back of the house. There was a small apartment over the garage. Chucky knew the apartment, because he had been there once. It was the same place he had taken a life to prove his loyalty to Ramses. Those who entered that apartment generally didn’t come out.
Huck got out first, giving a quick look around before opening the passenger door for Ramses. Ramses got out, and motioned for Chucky to join him. Chucky was hesitant, but the glare Boo was giving him encouraged him to do as he was told.
Chucky walked with Ramses up the broken stairs to the apartment, while Boo, Huck, and the youngsters followed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and had to take short breaths to try to slow it. In his mind he went over every inch of the dirt he’d done in the past few months. It was impossible for them to know. He had been so careful, but Pharaoh had his ways of finding things out. Maybe Wolf didn’t believe that he’d come up with the money and decided to give him up? It was too late to worry about it at that point.
Ramses stopped at the top of the stairs and placed his hand on the apartment door, then paused and turned to Chucky. “You know, y’all young boys been with me for a long time, Chucky. When each of you came to me, you had nothing and I gave you something. All I asked in return was loyalty.”
“You know I’m loyal to you, Ramses,” Chucky assured him.
Ramses raised his eyebrow. “Are you?”
“Of course I am, and if anybody ever says different I’ll personally blow their fucking heads off,” Chucky declared.
Ramses studied his face, searching for signs of a lie. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said, pushing the door open and stepped inside.
The tiny apartment was the only thing on the property that had looked halfway functional. The kitchenette was dressed up to look like a recording studio: a few chairs, a sofa, and equipment that was seldom used. A heavily tinted two-way mirror divided the room, shadowing the recording booth.
“What, you feel like cutting a record or something?” Chucky tried to make a joke, but Ramses didn’t laugh.
“We ain’t cutting records today, Chucky. We’re cutting losses,” Ramses said. He turned a switch on the console, and darkened glass came to life, illuminating the recording booth behind it.
When Chucky looked inside the booth his heart sank. The mystery of Benny’s disappearance had finally been solved.
CHAPTER 14
Benny had always been the so-called pretty boy of their crew. He was high yellow, with curly hair that he always wore in a close fade, and left wild on top. Women threw themselves at Benny like LL in the nineties, but the man sitting tied to a chair in the recording booth was a far cry from that. Benny was naked, except for his underwear and socks, and covered in bruises. A blindfold covered Benny’s eyes, which was probably for the best so he couldn’t see what they had done to him. There were slash marks across his chest and thighs, most of which were still fresh and bleeding. They had been working him over for only God knew how long. Chucky didn’t know what he was more baffled by: the fact that his best friend was being tortured or who was doing the torturing.
Ahmed Kaplan, known to some as the Butcher, was an older Turkish man, who Chucky had met once when he was riding around with Ramses in Queens. He owned a butcher shop and delicatessen, where Chucky had sat with him and Ramses sat eating cold sandwiches and drinking Raki, while listening to Kaplan tell dirty jokes and debate sports. The man working Benny over seemed nothing like the sweet old dude he’d met at the deli, having traded in his ratty wool sweater for a meat cutter’s smock and hatchet. He stalked Benny like game, every so often stopping to bark something at him that Chucky couldn’t hear through the soundproof glass.
“Sweet Jesus,” was all Chucky could think to say.
“More like the devil.” Ramses chuckled. “I forgot, you’ve never seen the Butcher at work. Before age and hard living kicked in, that muthafucka was an artist with this murder shit. Now he’s a tired old man who takes the occasional contract to cover his gambling debts and keep up with the tuition at that private school he hides his bastard kid at. Did you know that he and his wife would be outcasts in their community if word ever got out that he fathered a son with a black junkie broad? They’re funny about that kinda shit.”
“What the fuck is he in there doing to my boy?” Chucky asked, stalking toward the entrance to the recording booth.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Ramses called, stopping him in his tracks. “Best not disturb the Butcher when he’s in his zone. I’d hate for you to accidentally take a whack from that cleaver that was meant for Benny.”
“Ramses, what’s going on?” Chucky asked nervously.
“Oh, you didn’t get the memo? Benny here was planning on branching out on his own, but instead of stepping up like a real nigga and putting his money where his mouth was, he decided he would steal from us to kick start his little operation, but he fucked up when he got greedy and took one bite too many of the same pie.”
Chucky shook his head in disbelief. “Benny is one of us. This has got to be some kind of mistake.” He faked shock, but he knew Benny was foul, and if Ramses knew it too then there was nothing he could say to save his friend. Still he tried to advocate for him. If for nothing else, so he could say he at least tried.
“Ain’t no mistaking it, Benny is as dirty. I told you whoever was hitting our spots had a helping hand. I just never thought it was Benny’s hand.”
“How did you find out?” Chucky asked, still trying to process everything,
“It was the young boy who put the nail in his coffin.” He nodded at Omega.
“You did this?” Chucky looked over at Omega, who turned his eyes to the floor. The shame was apparent. Benny had been good to him and he’d returned the kindness by putting him in harm’s way.
“Tell him what you told me,” Ramses ordered.
“These dudes moved on us last night after you left,” Omega reluctantly began. “Me and Li’l Monk bodied the men who tried to rob us, but Burger got killed.”
“So how does that fat muthafucka being dead explain why my homeboy is tied up?” Chucky asked impatiently.
“Shut up and wait for the punch line,” Ramses commanded.
“I recognized one of the dude’s faces,” Omega continued. “I had seen him on the block a few times before . . . with you and Benny.”
The room suddenly got quiet, but inside Chucky’s mind he heard a name, Louie. Louie was a dude who had a baby with Benny’s sister. Chucky told himself that Benny couldn’t have been dumb enough to use someone who could be traced back to them for the robberies, but the fact that he was tied to a chair said that he was. Chucky felt all the moisture drain from his mouth and his bowels shifted. His eyes instinctively went to Boo, who was watching him from the corner. His hand rested on the butt of the gun tucked in his jeans. Chucky wished that he’d brought his gun with him. At least then he might have had a chance.
“Finding out it was one of my own trying to pull a fast one made me even more determined to find this shirt bird, so I had Pharaoh call in some favors,” Ramses said. “We followed Benny to a crack house in Yonkers, where he had been pushing the shit he stole from us. The dumb muthafucka even still had the birds in the packages with Pharoah’s seal on them, so there was no mistaking where the drugs had come from. He had some money, too, but hardly what should’ve been there considering what he’s been licking us for. Knowing Benny he probably tricked it off on bitches.”
What Ramses didn’t know was that the reason money was missing was because Chucky had it. He and Benny had a collective pot that they put the money in that they made from what they stole. Then there was the money Chucky had been robbing Benny of while they were busy robbing Pharaoh and Ramses. It was greasy on his part, but Chucky needed the money more than Benny and he needed it a lot quicker. It took all of Chucky’s resolve not to make a break for the door.
“What’s the matter, Chucky? You look like somebody just kicked your dog,” Ramses told him.
“Just shocked, that’s all.” Chucky tried to keep his voice steady.
“I’ll bet,” Ramses said in a less-than-sincere tone. “So tell me, Chucky, if you were a man in my position, how would you handle this little situation? We all know the penalty for disloyalty, don’t we, Chucky?”
Chucky nodded.
“And what is it, Chucky? What’s the price a man must pay for being disloyal to the Pharaoh?”
“Death,” Chucky said just above a whisper.
“Exactly! Death to the offender and everyone involved!”
Chucky was surprised when Huck and Boo swooped in and grabbed him by the arms. “What the fuck is this?” Chucky struggled.
Ramses drew his gun and pressed it against Chucky’s forehead. “Did you know about this nigga plotting to cross us?”
“What? No. Ramses, why would I know anything about that?” Chucky asked in a terrified tone.
“Because you two muthafuckas are thick as thieves; one can’t so much as take a crap without the other knowing about it. Chucky, I been around you long enough to know when something ain’t right, and you been real off lately. Now, Benny is a good earner, but he ain’t got no heart and it took heart to try to pull this shit off. Somebody was in his ear and convinced him that he could get away with it, and I’m thinking that somebody is you. You planted this seed in Benny’s mind then stepped back and watched him take all the risks trying to execute it.”
Chucky would’ve fainted had it not been for Huck and Boo holding him up. He had dodged one bullet only to get hit by another. Ramses was so close to the truth that Chucky felt like he would vomit if he opened his mouth to speak, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The fact that Ramses had even bothered to question him, instead of flat out killing him, was because he still wasn’t totally sure about Chucky’s involvement and there was still time to try to worm his way out. He had to say something, anything to save him from the same fate as Benny.
“I haven’t been honest with you, Ramses,” Chucky admitted.
“I told you this li’l nigga was scum. I say let’s take both of these snakes in the back and put ’em to sleep,” Boo said.
“Let me finish,” Chucky told them. “I’ll admit that I knew the packages were coming up short when Benny was left on the block by himself. I thought it might have been one of the workers getting slick and Benny just not catching on, but eventually I learned the truth. Benny’s got a coke problem. At first I thought I could help him get cleaned up without you ever finding out, but he was further gone than I thought. By the time I realized just how fucked up in the game he was, Benny had already skated with what belonged to Pharaoh.” It was a hastily slapped-together lie, but it was all he had at the moment.
“And why didn’t you come to me when you found out Benny was getting high?” Ramses asked. “We might’ve been able to put this to bed before it got out of hand.”
“Everybody knows your rule about hard drugs, Ramses. You hate addicts, and if you’d found out someone you trusted was getting high, you’d have killed him. No matter how bad Benny might’ve been fucking up, he’s still my friend and I didn’t want to see him dead.”
“Or maybe you kept your mouth shut because you were in cahoots with him,” Boo suggested.
“Fuck you,” Chucky spat. “I’m the most loyal nigga in this crew, including you. I’m there night in and night out, leaving it all on the court, while you just come off the bench when the coach decides to give you garbage minutes. Why don’t you announce your retirement already, and stay the fuck out of my business.” He was getting tired of Boo’s shit. No matter the dire circumstances he was in, he wouldn’t continue to let the older man disrespect him.
“The both of you shut the fuck up!” Ramses barked. “Boo has a point, Chucky. How do I know you ain’t just trying to save your own ass?”
“Ramses, I’m willing to do whatever to prove that I’m loyal to you.” The minute Chucky said it, he wished that he hadn’t. Ramses had baited the hook and he bit it.
“Glad you feel that way.” Ramses smirked. “Give it to him, Huck.”
Huck drew a big gun from his holster and handed it to Chucky.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Chucky asked.
“Prove your loyalty,” Ramses answered. “You say you weren’t down with Benny’s plan, prove it by carrying out the death sentence.”
“Ramses, Benny fucked up and he’s gotta go, I understand that, but you can’t expect me to do it. That’s been my homeboy since free lunch.”
Boo eased up behind Chucky and put his gun to the back of his head. “Nigga, you ain’t in no position to be trying to have no moral dilemmas. You should’ve thought about the fall out when you was keeping Benny’s secrets.”
Chucky looked to Ramses. “It’s like that?”
“I’ll put it to you like this: twenty miles outside of the city there are two fresh graves dug in the woods. The number of bodies that goes in them is all up to you,” Ramses told him.
Chucky looked from his bound and gagged friend in the booth to the gun in his hand. A part of him wanted to go for it, but his moment of glory was likely to be a short one, being outgunned. Benny hadn’t spilled the beans about Chucky’s involvement yet, but who was to say that the Butcher wouldn’t eventually break him? Benny had become a liability and Chucky knew what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the recording booth.
“Y’all go ahead and start the party. I need to holla at the youngsters for a minute,” Ramses told his men, while waving Omega and Li’l Monk over to him. They had been standing
in the corner trying their best to be invisible. Omega took the lead, but Li’l Monk followed closely behind him. Ramses glared at them for a few long moments, before speaking. “That work you put in for us hasn’t gone unnoticed. You have my thanks, and Pharaoh also sends his gratitude.”
“All good, Ramses. You know how I get down when it comes to the team. I’ll kill anybody who comes around trying to fuck with us, just like I did that cat in the lobby,” Omega boasted.
“You think you’re hot shit because you shot a nigga? Any simple fuck with a finger can drop a body. I got a hundred thirsty young wolves who’ll kill for me if I tell them to. So don’t go thinking you’re special.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to tell you that I’m loyal to the team.” Omega tried to clean it up.
“That was the same thing Benny and Chucky told me when I pulled them out of the cold, but look at them now. Loyalty is more than just popping a dude who was trying to kill you; loyalty is murdering somebody you came up with if they’re in the way of your movement.” He motioned toward Chucky and Benny. “You think you got it in you to murder your right-hand man if he’s throwing salt in the game?”
Omega glanced at Li’l Monk, who was watching him for his response. “If I told you yes or no, I’d be lying with either answer. All I can do is speak for myself when I say I’d never put Li’l Monk in that position, and I hope the feeling is mutual. If not, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Ramses nodded, letting him know the answer had met his approval. “Spoken like a young man who wants to succeed in this game. And what about you?” Ramses asked Li’l Monk. “You’ve seen and done some things tonight that can carry some heavy consequences. There’s blood on your hands over something that ain’t really got nothing to do with you. I’d respect it if you decided to get out while you could. I might even find it in my heart to hit you with a few stacks for your troubles, provided we never speak of this again.”
