Cigar Bar (7 page)

“You know something?” Mr. Y tells the girl, “We have men come in here and drink what you have just drank and couldn’t take it…and fall on floor like little baby, but you are strong. We like, but you will have to stay here for a little while. Don’t worry. We like your spunk and we also like the way your brother came to your rescue. With that being said, please call him.”

Dawn picked up the phone and called her brother. “Hello?”

“Spaz, it’s me!” Dawn said excitedly.

Mr. Y snatched the phone from her, “Hello, Mr.? What is your name, sir?”

“Wait!” Spazo said on the other end. “Who the fuck are you, and where is my sister?”

“This is why I am calling you; I need for you to do something for me. There is a suitcase containing a quarter-million dollars. If you can get this back for me, I will give you your sister. Not only that, but I will give you one hundred thousand cash. So, what do you think?” Mr. Y asked. “I’ll call you back in fifteen minutes. I know you need time to think about it.”

Spazo was stunned. “Well, who am I talking to?”

“Oh, my name is Kohut Yehorenko. Please, we will call.” He hung up the phone.

Spazo was with his crew. They hadn’t expected anything such as this to pop off, but here he was. He turned and looked at his crew. “This motherfucker named Yeuro or some shit, some Russian-sounding motherfucker, tells me he wants me to go get a fuckin’ suitcase, keep a hundred thou, and then he’ll give me Dawn.”

Jason—Brain Boy—spoke up. “What? Yo, that’s those Russian motherfuckers from last year. Remember when they snatched up John for trying to sell on his turf?”

“Oh yeah. After he stole from me and tried to set up shop,” Spazo recalled.

“Yeah, but they found that nigga split in pieces, floating all up and down the Hudson!”

“Yeah, man, those motherfuckers are official! How you wanna handle it?”

Spaz looked around the room.
Damn,
he thought to himself,
this Ukrainian nigga got me backed into a corner; I ain’t got no choice but to follow through.
“Get everybody down here. I got something to say. I mean, all the generals and any crazy little nigga we know on the street who got heart. Spread the word! After I get through with this shit, we goin’ hunting for Russian motherfuckers!”

Just then, Spazo’s phone rang. “Yeah?”

“Hello, Mr. Spazo. So, have you thought my offer through?”

“Yeah, but first, I wanna talk to my sister.”

“Sure.” The man handed the phone to Dawn.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby girl. What the fuck?”

She told him all about her being with Monique and what they were doing and the whole repugnant story. She also told him that Mr. Y was pretty cool and that she thought she would be okay.

Spazo wanted so badly to say, “I told you so.” He wanted to say, “Didn’t I fucking tell you about that chick, Monique?” Since her friend was dead now and she was being held hostage, he said it to himself and decided to save all that for later.

“Well, don’t worry, baby girl. That dude came over here to get some shit with the white boy that got murdered, so I know what he looks like. I just can’t believe you lied to me all these years and you been getting high. Why do you think I sent you and Mommy away from New York? So you wouldn’t get into any shit like this!” He sighed, frustration getting the better of him. “Damn, don’t worry! I gotta do what he wants me to do, then I’m coming to get you, cool? I love you.”

Mr. Y got back on the phone. “Now, listen. As men, I give you my word. Nothing will happen to your sister as long as we have an understanding.”

Spazo assured him, “Yeah, we good. Don’t worry. I’m on it.”.

They hang up. Spazo took his four main dudes, Jermaine, and Black. He called Ghetto and informed him what is going on.

“What?!” Ghetto screamed, “My
niece
! Pick me up!” The four of them headed out to tackle the task at hand.

CHAPTER 4

Road Trip

• • •

Tony couldn’t believe what he
was seeing as he drove by the house. His plan was to go back and get high until he died. But when he drove around the corner, all he could see were flashing lights. Police and fire trucks were everywhere. There was also a mobile office and the FBI. He decided against stopping, but he didn’t know where to go.

He merged onto I-80 and just drove. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew that the police were looking for him. When he saw the tipped-over blue barrels of flour, he knew that the Ukrainians wanted him too. Tony decided that he needed a gun.

He asked himself, “Who the fuck can I holla at? Yes, Flaco!” He remembered one of the dudes that he had met in rehab.

Flaco was a real skinny Puerto Rican kid who could fight well. He had always kept in touch with Tony, and now Tony needed him. He pulled out his cell phone and called Flaco’s number.

“Hello?”

“Flaco, my man! I need you, dude!”

“Who dis? Tone?”

“Yeah, what up?”

Flaco was happy to hear from Tony, “Yo, what up, my nigga? What you need?”

“Well, I got four hundred, and I need a little fire power, ya dig?”

“You said four? Bet! Yo, come through. I got you!”

Tony said, “All right. I’ll be there in a minute.” Tony found himself in the Bronx in less than 15 minutes, but then he thought about the briefcase.
Shit!
I can’t leave that shit in the car and get out. Damn!
He decided to just take it with him.

He parked about one block over and got out to walk. It was a pleasant evening, and the jacket he wore was making him hot, but he was going be quick. He lit a Marlboro as his stomach felt queasy. As he walked past some young boys, they called out.

“Yo, white boy! I got that butter, baby.”

He thought long and hard about his situation.
Damn!
Here I am, a white boy in the Bronx, carrying a lot of cash.
He decided to keep it moving.

Not so long ago, he would have gotten lost in the Bronx with some hooker, doing drugs until he got robbed, beat, or put in jail. Times had changed. No matter how much his body hurt, he would not disrespect his father’s dying wish.

He spotted Flaco on the corner with two men. “Flaco, what up?”

“Pretty Boy Tone! What up, nigga?” He hugged Tony as if he was a long-lost brother.

“You been a’ight, my man?” Flaco asked.

“Yeah, you know. Shit has changed, Flaco. Man, my pops died,” he said, his heart heavy.

“Oh, word? Damn! I’m sorry to hear that shit, dawg,” he said as he reached in and gave his friend a hug. “Well here, check this out. Come on.”

He followed Flaco into the hallway, up one flight of stairs, and into an apartment. “Wait here.” Flaco left him standing in a living room. On the wall were all sorts of saints, candles all over the place, and an old lady sat on a plastic-covered couch watching a Spanish soap opera. He looked at the girls on the TV screen and thought,
Damn! Maybe I should go to Puerto Rico!

“Yo, come here.” Tony walked down the hall, and as he entered the room, he was impressed. Flaco had everything from shotguns to Uzis. Tony said, “Cool, my man! Look at you!”

“What you need, my nigga? This is on me. A present, fam! You my people and we always looked out for each other. I know if you calling me, something serious about to go down. So, what also comes with this gift from me is a guarantee that whenever you need me, I’ll be there in a fuckin’ heartbeat!”

Tony was touched. He reached into the briefcase, grabbed a stack of hundred-dollar bills that were marked $5000. He handed the cash to his friend and said, “Buy your mom something nice, like a flat-screen.” Then he grabbed a Glock 45 along with three cartridges and said, “Thanks, man! I love you! Stay cool, Flaco.” With that, Tony left the building and headed back to his car.

As he walked, he felt somewhat safer but not much.
A bullet always seems to equalize a situation
,
he thought. He pulled his keys out and hit the alarm.
Beep-beep.
Then….

“Yo, white boy! What’s in the briefcase?”

He turned around to see four men walking fast toward him.

“Oh shit, fuck!” Tony tried to hurry up and get to the car. The men were quicker; they had him surrounded in less than three seconds. “Wait, fellas, wait!” he protested, one hand in the air, surrendering. “Wait, let me reach into my pocket. I have some cash.”

As he pulled out the cash, one of the men snatched it while another punched him really hard in the back of his head. Tony was dizzy, but he refused to drop the briefcase,

He knew that something had happened, but just what he had no clue. What he did know was that he had the .45. As he stumbled forward, he was already reaching for the Glock. He let one shot fly.
Pop!

The men screamed, “Oh shit!”

One dude reached into his jeans as if he was going to grab a gun, but he was too slow.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Tony laid the man down.

The other guy drew his weapon just as Tony dove behind a car. He let loose again.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The window of a nearby car shattered, and holes appeared in the side of the car.

The trio took off running, but Tony didn’t know that. He was reloading and preparing for war when he heard, “Yo, Tony!”

He looked behind him and saw his boy Flaco running down the street. He was with four other men who were carrying assault rifles.

“What the fuck?” Tony stood still when he saw them and pointed his gun toward the street where the men had just fired on him.

“Yo, my girl Julie called us. She heard them talking in front of the door about robbing you. Sorry I’m late, my nigga, but it seems like you took care of shit yourself! My man!” He gave Tony a fist bump. He continued. “Don’t worry, we know who the other motherfuckers are. I’ll handle that one for you. Get out of here, my nigga. Peace!”

Tony jumped into his car and took off down the road. He got back on the highway. “What the fuck else is going to happen? Fuck!” he said. As he drove, he realized that he was in bad shape. Tony didn’t know how long he could go without his drug, but he really didn’t have a clue as to what he was in for.

He had the cash up front with him and would look over at the briefcase every few minutes. Tony wanted to turn around and head back to New York.

No, no, no
, he thought. He could see his father’s image in his mind’s eye as he heard his voice: “Please, promise me, Tony. Promise.”

He said out loud, “I promise, Dad!” He pushed the gas pedal down to the floor and headed west. He had no idea what he would do, and he knew he had the finances to do it.

He also knew that if they caught up to him, he was a dead man. Tony figured that he might as well keep it moving again. He thought about all the shit he had been through in the past few days. Suddenly, it occurred to him. “Holy shit! I haven’t slept in a couple of days!”

With his father gone from this Earth, he didn’t care about eating, sleeping, or any other thing. As he drove down I-80, he saw that the next rest stop was 80 miles away. He got off at one of the towns off the highway and went to the store. He bought some cigarettes and a lot of beer, planning to drive until he saw a hotel sign, where he would stop and check in.

But it didn’t quite work out that way. He was in pain. He had been on the road for a quite a while. Tony felt something horrible happening. It felt as if someone was inside of him trying to break his bones ever so slowly.

“Ahh!” he screamed out loud. If anyone had been nearby, he probably would have been punched in the face for screaming so loudly.

He pulled over to the side of the highway and exited his vehicle. Nausea did more than just set in. It came on full force. Tony began to throw up over and over again. Since he had not eaten, he was vomiting yellow bile.

Tony screamed loudly and hugged his body as tightly as he could. But no matter what he did, the intense pain would not go away. His body craved drugs, but he told himself no. “No! No! No, no!
Nooo!
Help me!” he cried out in the darkness.

Tony got back in his car and sat in pain for what seemed like an hour or so. He was fighting a demon and all the while, the promise to his father was planted firmly in his mind. Tony had to do this. He jumped back behind the wheel and peeled out. He needed to get inside someplace safe.

He knew not the day, the time, nor for how long he had been out here. The feeling of withdrawal was much worse than he expected. As he drove, he spotted an illuminated sign that flashed the word MOTEL.

He pulled over, nearly hitting someone, but he managed to get into a parking space. Barely able to talk, he somehow managed to secure a room. He was able to get it because the young girl behind the counter admired him. Although he looked like he was about to die, she thought that he was the best-looking thing that she had ever seen. Tony noticed her too, even though he was jacked up.

She smiled, reached out, and grabbed his hand. “Hi, my name is Becky. I think maybe I should help you with your bags, sir.”

He smiled. “I only have this one bag.”

“Well, you don’t look well. How ’bout I help you to your room, sir.”

“Sure thing,” he said.

The young girl called to the back. “Gene, I’ll be right back. Watch the front desk!” She raced around the counter to hold the door open for Tony.

“Thank you, Becky,” Tony said. All of a sudden,
Boom!
the pain kicked in. “Ahh!” he dropped to his knees, unable to move.

Becky rushed to him. The scream was so loud that Gene came from behind the counter. “What the hell is going on out here?”

Gene was a funny-looking white guy with thinning hair in the front and oversize glasses. He walked out with a porno magazine in his hand and a hard-on in his jeans. It looked as if a little pinky finger was sticking out of his pants.

“Becky,” he said, “that boy ain’t right.” He looked back behind the counter and thought,
I can send Becky out and get me a little jerk session going.
“You should, uh, stay with the man for a while. I got the front desk.”

“Okay, Uncle Gene,” Becky replied.

Tony didn’t know what the hell was going on, but somehow the young girl managed to get him into the room. She opened the door, walked in, and plopped him onto the bed. He rolled over and hugged himself as tightly as he could. She looked at him with sadness. She wanted to help him. “Pain,” he said out loud. “Oh God! It hurts. Please, oh God!”

She walked over to him slowly and sat on the bed. Becky didn’t know what to do. “If you’re in pain, maybe I can take your mind off of it, at least for a little while,” she said. She stood in front of him and let her dress fall to the floor. No matter how much pain Tony was in, pussy always seemed to make him feel better.

The young girl was a little chubby, but she was definitely a cutie pie. She had long, blonde hair and hazel eyes. What he liked most about Becky was her candy-apple country accent. She was sweet. The girl got on her knees in front of Tony. She unzipped his pants, slowly pulled his manhood out, and inserted it in her mouth. Initially, he was flaccid. As she moved her tongue masterfully around the head, it grew in her mouth. She seemed to enjoy the feeling of it getting hard in her mouth. Becky reached down between her legs and began to play with herself while she sucked him. The more it grew, the hornier she became.

“Mm, mmm!” she moaned loudly as she took him down her throat. She was pleased that it had grown to a good size. She removed her other hand and was now bent over in front of him.

Tony was happy that he had run into someone who knew what she was doing. He leisurely moved his hands behind his head and began to moan. “Oh shit!” he said, watching the girl perform as if she had an audience. Tony looked down and he noticed that the girl was dripping love juice on the floor. It seemed that someone had turned on a faucet. “Oh shit!” Tony sat up and watched her masturbate while she deep-throated him. It felt as though he had passed her throat and had gone into her stomach. He had no choice but to reach down and grab the back of her head.

“Fuck me!” he moaned loudly in her ear. And as turned on as she already was, when she heard that moan come out of Tony, she let out a high-pitched squeal as if she was in a country hoedown.

“Yee-haw!” she yelled as she slapped the sides of her legs really hard and took him down her throat. With her left hand, she shoved four fingers into her soaking-wet pussy.

Tony didn’t know if it was the drug withdrawal or reality, but what he just saw was like a scene from a movie. He pictured Becky moving in slow motion, splashing her cum all over the room, hitting the walls, the floorboards, the ceiling. He was sure that he was dripping wet.

In a fantasy dream state, Tony shook his head from side to side, trying to get all of the water off of him. He stuck his tongue out and licked the entire room. He began to laugh hysterically while the young girl mounted him. Becky had never been with anybody as good-looking or as crazy as Tony.

“Damn!”
she loved it, yelling out and moaning as she thrust him deep inside her wetness.

But what Tony saw was the amazing body of a beautiful, curvy girl jumping high in the air, doing an effortless split in midair, and coming straight down on him real slow. When she hit the bottom, more of her juices stained the walls, his face, and the ceiling. He was loving it. Tony felt no pain, only all pleasure.

The girl couldn’t believe it. She had never wanted to fuck somebody so badly in her life. From the moment that she saw him, she knew that she would have him. Tony had that flow with every woman he came across. Even married women did whatever they had to in order to take care of him.

All of a sudden, his phone rang. Tony, however, saw a big roller coaster with a midget at the bottom of it, turning it around and around. The bell was going on with every turn. Then the roller coaster turned into the girl, spinning around on him with her legs in the air as if she was floating. Of course, more juices splashed his face, but this time he thought that he would drown. Tony struggled to swim to the top of the pussy river. One, two, three strokes. Wait, was he swimming or was he fucking? He realized that his strokes weren’t swimming strokes, but fuck strokes.