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Authors: Roy Glenn

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BOOK: No More Tears in the End
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“It got us in, right?” Bobby said. “And besides, André wants everybody to know it was him behind it.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic.

“Just relax. Have a drink and enjoy yourself,” Bobby said and stared at the lone naked dancer behind the bar. “You ain’t scared are you?”

“No! And don’t you start with me. I heard enough of that shit from Angelo.”

“Angelo.” Bobby shook his head. “Why you hangout with that guy anyway?” Bobby tolerates my friendship with Angee, but he never did like him, and wonders why I do.

“Angelo’s a good guy. Give him a chance.
He’s
gonna be a good guy to know,” I told Bobby that night and we waited.

It was two in the morning before the guys we were looking for got there. I tapped Bobby on the shoulder.

“You ready?” I asked and Bobby nodded.

We both put on gloves and stood up.

“Let’s do it,” Bobby said, and we walked toward them at the bar.

Once we were standing behind them, it was like time was standing still. I can’t speak for Bobby, and we never talked about it after it was done, but honestly, its one thing to talk shit about doin’ it, but pullin’ the trigger and blowin’ a hole in the back of somebody’s head is another. To that point, we had collected money and roughed up a few people, which was fun, but we were about to kill these muthafuckas.

We never even knew their names, much less who they were and what they had done for André to want them dead. But the time for thinkin’ was past; nothing to do then but pull and blast. I looked at Bobby, we pulled out our guns and we fired.

“What happened then?”

“What do you think happened? We dropped our gats and got the fuck outta there.”

“What you gonna do now?” Angee asked after another swallow.

“I’m gonna kill the corner of this Remy and get outta here.” I picked up the bottle and poured the last of the Remy into my glass, and maybe for the first time, was glad that Bobby made me get a driver.

He said that with all that we had goin’ on lately—muthafuckas tryin’ to kill me and shit—that I needed to have somebody with me at all times and he couldn’t always be there.

At first I resisted it. I don’t need
no
fuckin’ bodyguard. But I knew he was right, so I got a driver.

His name is Kevon. He used to work for Jamaica in the Bahamas. He drove me around on my last trip. I picked him because he didn’t know anybody in this country, so his loyalty to me and only me wouldn’t be a question.

“I’m talkin’ about this other DEA fuck. What’s his name?”

“Vinnelli.”

“What you gonna do about him?”

“What you think I’m gonna do? I’m gonna kill him.”

“You sure that’s the best idea right now?”

“What do you mean? This is the muthafucka that arranged Cassandra’s murder. He gotta die.” I drained my glass and stood up. I was a little shaky, but I kept my balance.

“Where you goin’, Mikey? Sit down and have another drink.”

“I’m out, Angee.”

“Well sit down anyway and think about this.”

I sat down and Angee poured scotch in my glass. “Think about what?”

“You shouldn’t push your luck. You got away with killin’ those other two assholes ’cause they couldn’t tie them to you, but Vinnelli, that might not go away that easy.”

I started to argue with him but was too buzzed, and besides, I knew he was right.
 

“All I’m sayin’ is that just ’cause you don’t see them, don’t mean they ain’t coming.”

“You right about that.”

“If you want my advice—and I notice that you ain’t askin’—but if you want my advice—you’ll back off this thing and go back to doin’ business.”

“You’re right, Angee.”

“I know I’m right. So you gonna back off this shit, right, Mikey?”

“I’ll leave it alone, Angee.” I wasn’t sure if I meant it or if I was just tellin’ him that shit.

“And I got your word on this? You’re gonna leave that shit alone and get back to business.”

“You have my word.” But now I had given my word.

 

Chapter 3

Nick Simmons

 

“That’s it, Nick. That’s it, baby. Fuck this pussy, Nick!” Wanda yelled as I took her from behind.

Under that business-like appearance and that cool, calculating demeanor, Wanda was
all
woman
.

Wanda and I had been friends since we were kids. She was the first person that I met when I was sent to live with my grandmother after my parents disappeared. I guess you could say that our
relationship
began when I was a suspect in four drug-related murders.

Since that night the two of us began spending time together, you know; just two friends that like to hang out together. But we were feelin’ each other. We finally got together while Black was in jail, accused of his wife’s murder. Not exactly the best of circumstances for us to get together, but it is what it is.

Being the private person that she is, Wanda insisted that we keep our relationship on the low. She didn’t want anybody to know about it; especially Mike Black, but I ended up telling him about it anyway. I thought that it was better coming from me.

I held her hips in place and pushed myself deeper inside her, but my mind wasn’t on Wanda, sex, or anything close to it.

There was a song by The O’Jays back in the day that went something like:
Your body’s here with me, but your mind is on the other side of town
.

Well that’s exactly what and how I was feeling, and it wasn’t ’cause of some other woman on the other side of town that I was messin’ around with.

My mind was on 35
th
Street in Manhattan. In my mind’s eye, one of my closest friends is dying in my arms and there is nothing I can do to help him.

This nightmare began the night Frank Sparrow defended his middleweight crown at The Garden. When I got there with Wanda, Black said he wanted to talk to me. Both Wanda and I cringed, thinking that he had found out about our covert relationship and was about good on his threat to kill whoever it was that Wanda was involved with. But what he wanted was something that I never expected to hear from him. “I need you to watch Freeze.”

“Freeze? Why?”

“His boy Mylo arranged for Frank to take a dive.”

“What?”

“Told Frank I wanted him to do it.”

“You think Freeze knew about it?”

“I don’t think so, but this nigga Mylo is his boy. Keep your eye on Freeze, but you don’t let Mylo outta your sight.”

“I’m on them, Black.”

That was the promise that I made.

And the promise that I didn’t keep.

After the fight, Sparrow jumped up on the ring ropes and pointed his glove at Mylo. Black hadn’t counted on Sparrow calling Mylo out like that. We had to fight our way through the crowd to catch up with him. As soon as Mylo and Masters could, they separated.

“Freeze, you and Nick get Mylo. Bring him to the parlor. I’ll meet you there.” Black told me that night.

“Where you goin’?”

“Get Mylo.”

“What about him?” I asked quietly since he thought Freeze might have been involved in the plot.

“He’s good. Just get Mylo,” Black said, and he and Bobby went after Masters.

All they knew was that Masters was involved with Mylo in the plot to kill Black, and that was enough reason to kill him. They both turned out to be DEA.

By the time we caught up with Mylo he had made it out of The Garden and was on 35th Street. He was startled when
me
and Freeze caught up with him in the crowd. “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?” Freeze asked as soon as he was close enough to put his hands on him.

“No where. Just tryin’ to get out of here. You know, get back to the house; see how things are goin’.”

“You
not goin’
to the after party?” Freeze asked as we walked alongside of him through the crowd.

“Yeah, I’ma
stop
by there later, you know; once the real after party gets goin’.”

“You oughta
come
ride with us,” Freeze told him.

I guess Mylo knew that if he went anywhere with us that we would kill him the first chance we got, and he was right. Mylo reached for his gun and turned to Freeze.

He fired two shots.

Freeze grabbed his stomach and fell into my arms. I laid Freeze on the ground. “Don’t let him get away, Nick,” Freeze told me as he grimaced through the pain.

I looked around and didn’t see Mylo anywhere. He was gone. “I’m not leaving you.” I said and held onto Freeze.

How could I have been so stupid?

Why didn’t I take Mylo’s gun right away?

It’s my fault that Freeze is dead. Even though they tell me that it’s not, I know better. Freeze is dead ’cause I got careless. And even though I avenged his death so Freeze could rest in peace, I haven’t found any peace for myself.

Freeze started workin’ for Black when he was sixteen years old. He was a kid, but Black saw something in him. That’s what we used to call him, The Kid. Back then, all Freeze did was run little errands for Black and hang out at the club messing with the ladies. That all changed one night after we robbed a warehouse and somebody robbed our load.

The next night when I got to The Late Night, Freeze was there talkin' to Black. They sat there for most of the night, and then Freeze jumped up and headed for the door. A couple of days later, Freeze had caught all of the guys that robbed us.

After that, Black made me work with Freeze. I had mad respect for the kid for catching
them
muthafuckas by himself. But he was just a kid; I didn’t wanna work with him. The way shit worked was, since Black doesn’t like to drive, whenever he had a little job to do, he would call me and say “come scoop me up.”

Only this time when I get there, Black is nowhere to be found and Freeze gets in the car. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? Where’s Black?”

“Black wants me to go with you.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say why. He just said when Nick gets here that I should go with you.”

I put the car in drive and pulled off. “Where to?”

“Spot off Boston Road.”

“Who we goin’ to see?”

“You know Harry Walker, right?” Freeze asked as I drove.

“Greasy?”

Yeah, I know his fat ass. He was a gambler who liked to bet on football, but Greasy had a string of bad luck. Lost a lot of money one Sunday then tried to bet his way out of it; as some gamblers are known to do. Now he owed one of our bookies a hundred grand.

We waited outside Greasy’s apartment building, waiting for him to come home for the night. Neither of us had much to say while we were waiting, just listened to the radio, and watched the door. I was thinkin’ about whether it was good idea for Black to send Freeze along with me. I didn’t think he was up to it.

It was after three in the morning when Greasy got to his apartment. He was in the company of a very pretty full-figured woman.

As soon as Freeze saw Greasy heading for the building, he was out the car. I gave him points for enthusiasm. I was anxious to see if he got any points for style and more importantly, effectiveness.

By the time Greasy wobbled to the door and got his keys out, Freeze was on him. He put his gun to the back of Greasy’s head. “What the fuck!” I heard Greasy say when I finally got to the door.

“Unlock the door and go inside,” Freeze ordered the big man.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?”

“Black sent me.”

“Who the
fuck are
you?”

“I’m the nigga that’s gonna shoot you and the titty bitch here if you don’t unlock the fuckin’ door.”

Greasy unlocked the door and we went inside. Freeze told the woman to sit down and be quiet, while he backed Greasy up to the wall at gunpoint. It was only then that Greasy recognized me. “Nick? That you, Nick?”

“What’s up, Greasy?” I said and took a seat next to his big tittie companion.

And they were pretty titties too.

I put my gun on my lap and she smiled at me. She looked like the sight of my gun and all that was going on was exciting her. Maybe she was just hoping that those big-ass titties would allow her to walk out with her life. Truth was she had nothing to worry about. At least I didn’t think so. Freeze never said if Black wanted them dead or not, but I knew Black didn’t like killing women.

“Who the fuck is this kid, Nick?” Greasy asked and Freeze punched him in his stomach for asking. He doubled over in pain.

“I already told you who I am,” Freeze said calmly. “I’m the nigga who’s gonna put a bullet in your head if you don’t do what I tell you, which means you don’t talk unless I tell you to.” Freeze hit him in the stomach again. “Understand?” And then he hit him in the stomach again. This time Greasy went down to one knee. Those shots to the gut had taken all the wind out of him.

BOOK: No More Tears in the End
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