Money Devils 1

by Ashley

  West stepped out of his AMG S-Class. He was uncharacteristically relaxed. Nike Sweat and a slim-fit white T-shirt hugged his athletic build. The LeBrons on his feet were a far cry from the Italian designers he normally opted for. He would slip back into the suit and tie later after he left the hood. He called Sire, who answered on the first ring.

  “I’m out back,” West said.

  West made his way up the driveway and headed for the back door.

  The young goon who answered the door stood in the threshold. A gatekeeper. He lacked patience today, however. No warning. No brakes. West came off his hip. A .45 to the middle. One pull of the trigger. The man dropped. Another finger curl sent a bullet through his head. West stepped over the body as he entered the kitchen where Sire sat.

  “Hope you calling the cleanup crew through for that mess you just made,” Sire said. He was unaffected by the body lying on the floor. Murder was a part of his everyday life as he sat back at the kitchen table. Tens of thousands of bills cluttered the table before Sire. They were wrapped in plastic shrink-wrap.

  “Next time you lead these little niggas to my side of town, make sure you let ’em know you leading ’em to they graves,” West said. He hated to get his hands dirty. He had removed himself from the ins and outs of the Fifth Ward when he was a college prospect. Any little scandal would have ruined his chances of going to the NFL, but he hadn’t lost touch with the streets. He was Sire’s silent partner on the drugs side too. He had gotten him started. Silent around these parts was misinterpreted for weak. So, West came loud.

  “Fuck you think you were doing showing up to the press conference like that? You donated a half a million dollars in drug money. You associated that shit with my name. Have you lost your fucking mind?” West asked.

  “I run this city. I go where I want to go, ain’t no limits,” Sire said.

  “I love you like a brother, my nigga, so I’m going to shoot straight with you. Get out your feelings before I end all this street shit. The lines are drawn for a reason. You where you chose to be and I’m walking my path. I gave you an out. You chose to keep your toes in the sand. I can’t play in it. I got too much at stake. It’s love when it’s personal. We’re men. We chose our sides. An expired friendship don’t make you my enemy, but treachery will, no doubt. You don’t want it to go that way,” West said.

  “It can go whatever way you want it,” Sire said.

  West scoffed and nodded as he turned around, stepping over the body he had left behind as he walked out of the front door. He had seen it happen many times. Survivors of the hood became enemies of it. West hoped time would repair this misunderstanding, but what he couldn’t repair he would erase, if he must.

  * * *

  August sat behind his desk swirling the aged whiskey in the tumbler he held in his hands. Four pills sat in front of him. He picked them up, putting them in his mouth and chasing them down with the bitter liquor. He had lost so much. His parents. CEO to his family’s company. He had a part in Sinclair Enterprises, but the crown had passed him like he didn’t even matter. His father had chosen West and it was a sting that never dulled. His parents’ murders haunted him daily. The million dollars he had given the private investigator to conduct an investigation separate from the one West was pursuing had finally paid off. He stared at the white man in front of him. Boss Sparks. He was one of the most skilled hit men on the black market.

  He looked at the picture in front of him.

  “You’re sure about this?” August asked.

  “Sutton LaCroix hired the divers. Sutton LaCroix now works with West. You do the math. West is behind the murders of your parents. I don’t believe he meant to hurt the kid. He didn’t know Brandon would be on board that night. My guess is he wanted your parents out of the way so that he could acquire power of the company,” Boss said.

  August looked at the pictures of West and Sutton together. He was sick. West had been a brother to him. Blood meant nothing in comparison to their bond. He didn’t understand this, couldn’t quite come to grips with this type of deceit.

  “My parents were good to him. They loved him like their own,” August said, voice trembling, heart tearing, rage simmering. August’s eyes burned and his vision clouded. This unexpected treachery tore him apart. He had never felt anything that hurt this bad. Not even the death of his parents. Learning that West had been the mastermind behind this took the strength out of him.

  “I need it finished. Kill him.”

  “I don’t offer half services, Mr. Sinclair. I take my job very seriously. The arrangements to eliminate the threat were arranged before I ever stepped foot inside this room. It’ll be done by end of day,” Boss replied.

  August nodded and stood somberly to his feet. “Final payment has been delivered to your Swiss account.”

  Boss nodded and August closed the door as he exited. His chin quivered and one sob escaped him before he reined in his emotions. The ringing of his phone was a welcome distraction. He pulled it out to see Honor calling him. He wondered if she knew, if she was directly involved with the dealings between West and Sutton. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think she could be. Not the beautiful, kind girl who had appeared in Beamer’s hospital room after the blast. He prayed she had nothing to do with it because he liked her. He wanted to know her, but he would extend the job if he found out she had any hand in this.

  August swept the contents of his desk to the floor and then leaned over the desk, placing flat palms to the top of the wood as he bowed his head and gritted his teeth. He had just lost a brother and it was agonizing.

  * * *

  “Bitch, whatever the fuck you have done to this man, you did it well because I’m staring at a truck full of gifts. Sutton, this is super sweet! His driver is taking me all over the city to pick up gifts for you with personal messages. He loves you, Sutton. Are you sure about this?” Honor whispered the last part as she glanced up at the closed partition.

  She then stared at Sutton’s face through FaceTime and she could tell that her sister was conflicted.

  “I’m sure,” Sutton said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Sutton ended the call abruptly and Honor didn’t press the issue. She knew when her sister was in her feelings. Honor didn’t blame her.

  The partition lowered and the driver looked in the rearview mirror.

  “Ms. LaCroix, we have two more stops before we have to pick up Mr. Sinclair,” he announced.

  “August?” Honor asked.

  “No, young Beamer. I was instructed to bring Sutton and Beamer together. Since you have taken her place, I just wanted to inform you of our stops.”

  Honor nodded. “Thank you.”

  The partition rose and Honor reached for the champagne bottle that sat cooling in the ice bucket. She poured a glass as the city streets passed her by. It was a shame what was about to occur. She had a feeling Sutton was about to flush an epic love down the drain, but Honor loved her beyond measure because Sutton was doing it in the name of family. She was defending their sisterhood and Honor couldn’t do anything but respect it. They had been taught at an early age that it was family over all else, but this sacrifice felt unfair. Her phone rang and her chest tightened as August’s name popped up on her screen. She couldn’t even bring herself to answer. Yes, he had done wrong, but Honor just couldn’t see him raping anyone. The damage that had been done to Ashton was so terrible and malicious. She just couldn’t marry the two thoughts together. It felt like they were reacting to half of the story. The entire situation felt wrong.

  * * *

  The one-story house was busy with action as Ashton pulled up curbside. She couldn’t believe she was even there. She climbed out of the car and catcalls erupted as the fellas on the block took notice. Her eyes were hidden behind huge designer sunglasses, covering the remnants of bruises. Those bruises were footprints that led to the tragic night that was to come.

  Ashton swung her hips and ass effortlessly as she took the steps up to the porch. She k
nocked on the metal-framed door. When it opened, Sire stood in front of her. In a black hoodie and black jeans, he was ready for tonight’s drop. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her because they both knew she had no business being there.

  She didn’t even know why she was there. She didn’t know him. He was a pawn on Sutton’s chessboard, but she had a feeling he had a board of his own and on that board, he was a king. She recognized a boss when she saw one. She wanted revenge but not at the expense of him. The only people she wanted punished were the ones who were responsible. She had no idea that she was looking the devil in the eyes.

  “What you doing here?” Sire asked.

  “Taking a risk that I shouldn’t be taking,” she whispered. “Can I come in?”

  “I’m about to head out; got that thing, you know?”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding as she turned to scan the block behind her. “I just need a minute. See something happened to me a while back, something bad.”

  Sire’s back stiffened and his brow dipped. He didn’t know where she was going with this.

  “I just want to not think about it for a while. I need something just to help me sleep,” she said. The no sleeping part was true, but Ashton would never run to pills for the remedy. It was an easy way to access his trap house, however.

  “You want to cop something,” he said.

  She nodded and he pushed open the door farther.

  “You do this on the regular?” Sire asked, feeling her out.

  “No, but it feels necessary right now. I don’t want to keep playing back these thoughts in my head. I’m walking around having nightmares while I’m awake. I just need…”

  “To sleep,” he finished for her. “A’ight. I’ll help you out.”

  “I’m not asking for favors. I’ll buy like everybody else,” she said, pulling a roll of hundred-dollar bills from her Chanel crossbody bag.

  “Don’t nobody want ya small bankroll, shawty,” Sire said. “I see you shining, though.”

  She shook her head.

  “Let me get you right. You want a drink a’sum’n?” he asked.

  “That would be cool,” she said.

  Sire disappeared to the back of the house and Ashton blew out a sharp breath. Sutton would kill her if she knew what Ashton was up to.

  He returned with two short tumbler glasses, a bottle of Hennessey, and two small capsules. He placed the pills in her hands.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Just a little something for sleep. Nothing major. You came here. You must trust a nigga,” Sire said.

  She closed her palm. “I don’t really want to take this with Henny straight,” she said.

  “I ain’t got no girlie shit,” he said.

  “You got apple juice or something?” she asked.

  “It’s some Juicy Juice in there somewhere,” Sire said.

  Ashton snickered. “Juicy Juice? You have kids?” she asked. “In your trap house?”

  “Nah, man, my niece be here sometimes,” Sire said, giving up a lazy half smile. “She be here more now since my brother got killed a couple weeks back. We all doing our part so CPS don’t take her. She be with my mama most of the time, but I have her sometimes, though.”

  Ashton already knew about his brother. She was responsible for Ris killing him. She had called Ris to town.

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” Ashton said.

  “It’s all good,” Sire said.

  “You gon get me the juice or what?” Ashton asked.

  “I ain’t no waiter, gorgeous, you better get that shit yourself,” Sire said, sitting and nodding toward the hallway. “That way,” he said.

  Ashton made her way to the kitchen and poured two glasses of apple juice. She then split both capsules and emptied them into one glass and then mixed the drink up with her finger. She carried both drinks back to the living room and then grabbed the bottle of Hennessey.

  “I’m going to put you on something new. Apple juice and Hen is smooth as fuck,” she said, adding Hennessey to both glasses and handing one to him.

  Sire looked at it skeptically and Ashton frowned. “It’s just a drink,” she said, taking it from him and taking a sip. She handed it back to him and Sire took a sip as well.

  “My wettest dream, huh?” Sire asked.

  Ashton blushed, rolling her eyes as she smiled. “Hennything can happen,” she said.

  Sire lifted her glass and he leaned forward to tap his against it. He swallowed down the drink in one gulp.

  It took Ashton three gulps and accompanying grimaces to get her drink down. She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around the back of his head.

  “I’ma fuck the shit out you, shawty, you better get out a nigga lap,” he said bluntly.

  Ashton kissed Sire. She needed to buy time, to give the sleeping pills time to kick in. He didn’t seem like the type to waste time with a play on the floor, but she had never met a nigga who wouldn’t get off track for pussy. He squeezed her ass and groaned as he sucked her entire tongue into his mouth. It was the sloppiest kiss she had ever received and somehow the best. She prayed he fell asleep before she wrote a check her ass couldn’t cash.

  “Aye,” he said, pulling back to look at her. He gripped her face roughly with one hand, pushing in her cheeks as he looked at her. “I want to finish this, but I got bi’ness. Get your pretty ass out.”

  Ashton stood and adjusted her clothes. “Your loss, country boy,” she said.

  He stood and Ashton didn’t move as he towered over her, wrapping her waist with one arm and staring down the bridge of his nose at her.

  “I’ma holler at you, though,” he said. She noticed the slur of his words and she placed a hand to his cheek.

  “Do me a favor and don’t,” she replied. She walked toward the door and the step he took after her was off balance. He staggered.

  “Oh bitch, I’ma kill you,” he mumbled as he staggered once more.

  “No, you’ll thank me,” Ashton said. She walked out with a clean conscience because she knew that Sire wouldn’t make it to the drop.

  * * *

  Luna checked her Rolex as she sat in the coffee shop on the pier. She didn’t like when things were off schedule. Things went awry when they weren’t done on time and as she sat with the earpiece antenna in her ear, she knew something was wrong. She had tapped the US Coast Guard’s frequency easily enough, but there was no activity. The drop was supposed to take place at 6:00 P.M. She had sent in the anonymous tip at 6:00 on the dot. A team had been dispatched to Sinclair Enterprises’ Louisiana rig, but nothing had occurred. It had been forty-five minutes and the radio had been dead silent since.

  Why haven’t they called it in yet? Luna wondered.

  When the static of an operator erupted in her ear, Luna perked up.

  “Dispatch, we’re at the Sinclair oil rig and there’s nothing illegal going on here. The rig is clean,” the voice said.

  What the fuck?

  Luna picked up her phone and sent Sutton a text.

  Luna

  Something’s wrong. Boat is clean. No bust.

  She quickly disconnected from the Coast Guard’s communication network and packed up her bag. She had a six-hour drive ahead of her to get back to Houston. Whatever had gone wrong, it wasn’t on her. She had done her part. She needed to link with her sisters to find out what the next move would be.

  * * *

  “Honor!” Beamer shouted as he ran out of the big house and into her arms. His nurse smiled a greeting at her too. Honor looked up at the huge Texas estate. It was massive, truly a big house, and she understood the nickname now. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she gawked at its grandeur. Manicured lawns rolled perfectly for acres on end, fountains splashed, and three stories of luxury sat in front of her. It was like a castle.

  “You must be Sutton. Beamer here has been so excited to see you all day,” the woman said.

  “No, I’m her sister, Honor. Nice to meet you,” she greeted, sh
aking the nurse’s hand. “Any special instructions for him? I know he’s still healing. We’re headed right to the party so his brothers will be there. I’m sure they know everything.”

  “Those brothers are the reason some of these burns aren’t healing correctly. He really does need a woman’s touch,” the nurse stated. She passed a small bag full of medication. “His care instructions are inside. There is also a steroid cream, antibiotic cream, and something for pain inside. Fresh bandages too.”

  “I’ll make sure I read everything and follow the instructions perfectly,” Honor promised. She turned to Beamer. “You ready to go?”

  Beamer nodded and Honor corralled him into the SUV. They pulled away from the estate.

  “Welcome home, Beamer! I’m so happy you’re out of the hospital. There are so many people who can’t wait to see you!” Honor said, gushing over the resilience of this young boy. He was so special and she just wanted to make sure he had a good time. She knew his days had been hard lately and more hard days were to come as he figured out how to navigate through life without his parents. Today, however, should be fun.

  “Is it a big party?” Beamer asked.

  “Why do you think we’re all dressed up? Of course it is!”

  The smile that spread on his face warmed her. The driver headed toward the venue and Honor hooked her phone up to the vehicle’s Bluetooth, turning on her favorite playlist.

  Michael Jackson crooned through the speakers.

  “Come on, Beamer,” she said, smiling and snapping her fingers, dancing in her seat. “We’ve got to start the celebration now.”

  Beamer smiled and joined in as he moved his head and shoulders to the beat.

  Keep on with the force, don’t stop

  Don’t stop ’til you get enough

  It felt amazing to see him so joyous. He deserved it. Beamer was a good kid, but life was about to get even harder. She had a hand to play in that, so this was the least she could do.

  “Can you open the sunroof?” Beamer asked.