Secrets Uncovered (11 page)

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Authors: Amaleka McCall

BOOK: Secrets Uncovered
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Brooklyn, New York, 2006
Easy and Rock sat across from each other, gauging the other's thoughts.
“I don't know if I can do what you're asking me to do, Rock,” Easy said, breaking the tense silence that had settled in the room.
It wasn't what Rock wanted to hear.
Rock closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Easy's words stung like a swarm of angry yellow jackets. Already a man of few words, this topic left his stomach reeling. He planned his words very carefully, not letting on too much. It had been a hard decision to ask Easy to leave the game. Especially now, when Easy was at the top, riding high.
Easy had graduated from pushing packs of heroin to running the entire crack cocaine game in Brooklyn. That was what made Rock so sick to his gut.
Rock cleared his throat roughly; the grating sound causing Easy to jump a bit. The tension in the room was palpable now. Easy had always taken Rock's advice; in turn, Rock had served as Easy's loyal “cleaner.” But perhaps he was asking too much of Easy.
“I can't tell you what to do. I can only advise you to get out of the game now. I've heard that DeSosa is working with some very dangerous people,” Rock said, his tone ominous.
“How do you know anything about DeSosa? I know you never liked him, but you've never told me why,” Easy said, frustration mounting in his voice. He respected Rock, but right now Rock was overstepping his boundaries.
Rock looked at Easy, square in the face. “I know more than you think.”
“Here you go with the conspiracy shit, Rock. C'mon, man, all that crap is TV bullshit. I've listened to your stories, but I'm not about to make an important life decision based on your crazy-ass thoughts.” Easy was trying to keep his composure now.
Rock was quiet. He looked different, like he had been up all night in a fight and had barely come out of it alive.
Easy eyed him closely. He appreciated everything Rock had done for him over the years. He didn't want a beef with his old mentor.
“I have been in the game almost twenty years now, Rock. I moved up. I'm finally at the top. You have to understand that,” Easy said, softening his tone while trying to level with Rock. “I can't say no to DeSosa just cuz you telling me I should quit because you got a bad feeling about my connect.” He needed Rock to understand where he was coming from.
“Look here!” Rock barked, coming alive. He fisted his hands on his knees and shifted his jaw. Rock closed his eyes and tried to use a meditation technique to keep himself from jumping out of his chair. He looked crazier than Easy had ever imagined.
“What's up with you, man?” Easy asked, alarmed at his friend's angry demeanor.
Rock took a deep breath. “Easy, this is something you have to do. Don't ask any more questions. Call up DeSosa and tell him you're leaving the game. You have to trust me on this,” Rock said, his voice full of concern.
Rock stood up. His large body cast a dark shadow over Easy. Easy gazed up at Rock. He had trusted this man with his life—literally—from day one.
“I'll think about it,” Easy said, trying to hide his frustration.
“You better not think about it too long, ”Rock warned before rushing out of the room.
Easy contemplated the consequences of actually carrying out Rock's order, but he needed to discuss a few things with DeSosa first. Easy dialed DeSosa's number, but he quickly hung up when it started to ring.
He needed to think this out a bit. Telling DeSosa he was leaving the game would be no easy task. He needed to talk to Rock first and figure out a plan for disengaging himself. Extricating himself from DeSosa's network certainly would not be as simple as a phone call.
Chapter 8
Dangerous Encounters
Junior pulled up to the DeSosa home, like he'd done every three days for the past several weeks. He rushed inside and was frisked at the door—the normal routine. Junior was nervous for some reason; he had a strong premonition that today wasn't going to be a good day.
DeSosa was sitting with his back turned toward the door, but he felt Junior's presence. A long, awkward silence ensued.
Junior opened his mouth to fill the choking silence, but he wasn't able to get a word out.
“So what do you have for me?” DeSosa asked without turning around. Cigar smoke danced around his head and colored the air a hazy gray.
Junior cleared his throat. He had been dreading this meeting, since he had nothing substantive to report. He balled up his toes in his shoes, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“DeSosa, man ... I'm—I'm ... sorry,” Junior stammered. He cleared his throat again. He wondered if DeSosa, like Junior's mother, would be able to tell he was lying just from the shaking in his voice. “No new updates. I been to the apartment she used to stay in and it was trashed, but she wasn't there. I don't know where else to look ... I mean ... ,” Junior continued, glad to have gotten his lie out without pause.
He had no intention of trying to find Candy; and if he did, it wouldn't be to turn her over to DeSosa. Junior needed DeSosa's help getting at Phil. His crew had fragmented after everything went down with his brother, so he'd never be able to face up to Phil and his boys. Now that Dray was dead, Junior knew Phil would be after his head; and maybe this time he'd even come after Junior's own mother.
“For some reason, Junior, I don't believe you,” DeSosa snapped. His face was drawn into a scowl; the look sent chills down Junior's spine.
“Well, I'm telling you the truth. I have no idea where she is or where to find her,” Junior said, false frustration lacing his words. He had to make it look and sound believable. His sheer frustration with trying to find Candy, the gotdamn assassin, had consumed his days and nights.
“Well, then, Junior, our business is finished. We have no more to discuss until you bring me what I want. I can't give you Phil without assurance that I will get what I want. Looks like our deal is off. You can go,” DeSosa rasped dismissively.
Junior felt like a kid who'd just been suspended from school. He looked around the room, then back at DeSosa. He knew DeSosa too well; it would never be over that easily.
“C‘mon, DeSosa! I'm sayin', how the fuck do you expect me to find this bitch? I don't know where she is! I hardly even know her! I find out this punk-ass old man who raised her is my own fuckin' father, but that don't mean I know where to find this bitch! I told you everything... . I gave you every fuckin' thing I could!” Junior forcefully detailed. He was on the brink of tears. “You, of all people, should understand why I want Phil! If somebody did something to your family, you would be the first one out for blood!” Junior whined now, pleading his case.
DeSosa's henchmen closed in on him, but he didn't care. He was coming apart right now. His business had dried up. DeSosa was no longer supplying him because he thought he might still be a target of the DEA. And now he'd never be able to get his hands on Phil.
“DeSosa! You can't do this to me now!” Junior pleaded.
DeSosa didn't flinch or blink. He didn't have any respect for a man who couldn't stand his ground. That was the one thing that had set Easy apart in DeSosa's mind. Although he ultimately viewed Easy as a traitor, which was the most detestable form of human being, at least he could respect Easy for sticking to his decision about turning his back on the game.
“You can leave now. When you find out any information, you are welcome to come back. Maybe by then you'll grow some balls and find some loyalty,” DeSosa spat out in Junior's direction. His words cut like small carving knives.
“Fuck you, DeSosa! Fuck you and your little game!” Junior boomed. His newfound courage wrapped around him like a dark cloak.
DeSosa let out a snort, followed by a maniacal laugh. His goons surrounded Junior now. Junior wrestled his arm away from the big gorilla-shaped goon who roughly helped him to the door.
He straightened out his rumpled jacket sleeve and followed their lead to the door. Before he got there, he stopped in his tracks to address DeSosa. His action garnered glares from the goons.
“You really fucked up for this one. You just gonna leave me out there like that after I mirked Phil's right-hand man at your request? Those niggas are looking for me and you just gonna leave me open out there with no help and no protection? I'm tellin' you, what goes around comes around... . You better sleep with one eye open.” Junior issued his warning; his voice was quaking—filled with one part anger, one part fear.
His words got him grabbed by the neck by a goon.
“You are weak! You can't find one girl who tried to fuckin' kill you! I have nothing to say to you! Get the fuck out of my presence!” DeSosa barked at Junior's back.
Junior was tossed outside the house like yesterday's trash. His ego was bruised, and so were both of his knees.
“I want him followed. I think he knows something and he is just not letting on.” DeSosa snapped his orders, flicking his hand in the direction of the door. He needed some time to regroup and rethink this whole situation with the girl.
Outside, Junior picked himself up off the concrete ground and shouted for DeSosa and the world to hear. “Y'all ain't seen the last of me! You muthafuckas fucked with the wrong nigga!”
He stepped backward out of the gate, when he spotted a woman out of the corner of his eye. She was herding two little kids in the opposite direction of the commotion. He was angry, but for some reason he took particular notice of her. Maybe it was because she watched the scene a bit too closely.
“Mind yo' fuckin' business, bitch!” Junior yelled at the unsuspecting nanny.
The woman scampered into the house with the children in tow like he was a pedophile on the sex offender registry. Something about the fat, frumpy nanny made Junior pissed. She had the nerve to be watching
him
get embarrassed.
Junior waited outside the gate for DeSosa's thugs to bring his car around. He needed to get far away from this place and come up with a new strategy for finding Phil and catching that cunt, Candy.
 
 
Tuck slumped down farther into his seat as he watched Junior get tossed out of DeSosa's estate. Then Tuck noticed the woman who watched from the sidelines, much like himself. Something inside his chest jumped; her face was disguised but familiar.
“Candy,” he whispered, his breath catching. Tuck forgot everything: the danger, his cover, her cover, everything. He was up in his seat now, with his dark glasses far down on his nose. He needed to see her in natural light. He needed to know if it was really Candy or if his mind had conjured up her image.
Candice glanced in his direction as she hefted a baby girl onto her hip and grabbed the little boy's hand. Tuck watched her rush away—her body not the same, but her eyes telling a different story.
Tuck was brought back to reality when Junior revved his car engine. With his heart sitting in the back of his throat, Tuck shrank back down into his seat. He would sit outside all night if he had to until Candy emerged.
Tuck's mind was too preoccupied to realize that he was being followed as well.
One of DeSosa's henchmen picked up his cell phone to call in his report.
“Sí,
tell the boss he was right. Junior is being followed by the DEA agent. I have my eye on him right now. He is watching the house.” The man relayed his visuals into the phone.
He could hear DeSosa's booming voice in the background. He cursed Junior's name and condemned him to hell for being a traitor. The man listened, knowing that Junior had sealed his fate.
The one thing DeSosa couldn't stand was a traitor. He viewed them as low-down, dirty scum of the earth. It was the same reason Easy Hardaway had suffered the fate that he did. DeSosa finished his tirade with specific instructions.
Neither Junior, Tuck nor Candy was safe.
 
 
Candice rushed the children back into the house. Her head was spinning. She'd seen Tuck and she knew that he'd seen her.
What the fuck is he doing there? How did he find me?
He'd definitely recognized her; she was sure of it. She didn't want to believe Tuck was part of the government bastards who were after her. But now he appeared to be spying on her, and she had to reconsider. Could it be that he was just another hired gun after her head?
Candice felt sick to her stomach. His betrayal burned badly. Candice's hand shook and her body was covered with a fine sheen of sweat. The fat suit felt extremely heavy on her body and her legs felt wobbly. Stumbling around like a cow, she could barely carry the baby up the stairs. Candice reached to the wall for support and caused one of the pictures to crash to the floor. Candice jumped, her nerves on edge. She looked down at the shattered glass frame that held a picture of Guillermo. Candice stared at the picture like it was a bad omen. She felt like throwing up.
Cyndi rounded the corner like a bat out of hell in response to the loud noise.
“Dulce, are you all right?” she asked, noticing Candice's pained expression. Cyndi looked down at the shattered frame, then back up at Candice.
“Um ... I—I'm not feeling good. I need to leave early, if you don't m-mind,” Candice stammered, using the wall to hold herself up now. She couldn't even be bothered with the accent, and she didn't even care if Cyndi noticed.
Cyndi eyed her suspiciously and grabbed her baby before Dulce dropped her.
“I have to go,” Candice panted; her chest felt tight. She was afraid that if she stood in front of Cyndi another minute, she would definitely blow her disguise.
Candice slid down the steps and out of Cyndi's line of vision.
“Okay. Okay, you go ahead. I'll keep the kids tonight,” Cyndi called out from the balcony landing.
All Candice wanted to do was get out of the house and take in a deep gulp of fresh air. She moved fast now, ignoring everyone and everything.
As Candice moved away from her, Cyndi noticed that her nanny's shirt was hiked up slightly in the back. Cyndi squinted; Dulce's skin looked wrinkled and rubbery. Perhaps she had been burned in a fire as a child? Cyndi shook her head. Maybe her eyes were deceiving her, or the lighting was bad, but a nagging, suspicious feeling invaded her mind.
Something about Dulce just didn't sit right with her, and she couldn't put her finger on it. She had a funny feeling about her from day one, but she'd ignored it. With everything that had happened, she had been preoccupied, but the feeling was back. Cyndi hurried up the stairs and put her baby down in the crib. She rushed to her bedroom and retrieved her cell phone.
“Hello, Ms. Sanchez? I need to ask you some questions about the nanny you sent to replace Flora. Yes, I want to know everything,” Cyndi demanded.
Tuck watched the chubby Hispanic woman rush through the gates of the DeSosa home. He started up his engine as soon as she got in her car; in a matter of seconds he was on her tail.
“You are a bold bitch, Candy,” he said out loud to himself. He could not believe she was inside DeSosa's home, playing with his grandkids. He thought Candy had been bold when she infiltrated Junior's crew to get closer to them, but this took the cake. She was one bad bitch, and he knew he'd have to tread lightly with her.
He followed Candice with every dip, turn and U-turn she made. He had to give it to her—she was slippery as a snake. Rock Barton had obviously trained her well.
Candice pulled her car over abruptly. Tuck had to stop short to keep from rear-ending her.
“Fuck!” Tuck cursed, slamming his palms on the steering wheel. He had been made.

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