The Corner II (23 page)

“Fuck, yeah! And she done broke bad and went back to her baby daddy or whoever. But the fact is that nigga broke and just got out the joint.”

“You know what that mean! Damn, DC my nigga, but y’all need to holla at his ass. He been fuckin’ up when it comes to them broads.”

“Yeah, I know. But for now we gonna roll with his ass to get them keys to another spot.”

*     *     *

DC had finished getting the kilos out of the false wall. He also had ten grand worth of heroin that no one knew about. He put that inside his coat pocket so he could keep it the way it was—no one knowing about the
boy
. He put the kilos in two separate gym bags. He was pulling them out of the closet when he heard a knock on the front door. He took his pistol out of his waistband, and the cold steel made that clicking sound as he pulled the slide back to make sure that a round was in the chamber of the automatic. He didn’t think it was Greg because he had to come from the southwest side. He eased against the door and listened—no noise. The person on the other side knocked again. He looked out the peephole but couldn’t make out who was on the other side. The diversion was all the men were hoping for. While DC was at the door a couple of guys were sneaking through the bathroom window of the first floor apartment. Cat had told Bone about the bathroom window that had a broken lock and once you got the screen off it was easy to sneak in. DC pulled his cell from his hip and was about to speed dial Greg when he felt a presence and heard a voice before he could react.

“Nigga, if you value your life and my time, you wouldn’t cause any problems!” a man dressed in all black with pantyhose over his face barked.

His partner, who was dressed the same way put the barrel of his pistol to DC’s head telling him not to move. He took the pistol from DC and slapped the cell from his hand. DC hadn’t panicked when the stickup men put the pistol to his head and quickly pressed the send button and that sent a call to the person he’d last talked to—Greg.

*     *     *

The Game’s
‘One Blood’
pumped through the speakers of the Explorer as Greg drove up 87
^th
street. His phone that was in his cup holder was illuminating letting him know he had a call seeing as how he couldn’t hear it over the subs that were in the back. He looked at the screen, it was DC calling. “This that nigga here, I told him we were on our way.”  He flipped open the phone and was about to answer when he heard an unfamiliar voice yell, “Nigga where the shit at.” The front door slammed as two other men were let into the apartment. Greg knew what time it was and punched the accelerator; Jamel held on and looked at him.

“My guy is being jacked!” 

“Aw, hell nah!” Jamel yelled as he pulled his pistol from his waistband. He was ready to blast on the fools.

Greg dipped as fast as he could, hoping that he didn’t run into the boys in blue. Jamel had put the phone to his ear so he could hear what was being said. The men obviously had hit DC because he yelled in pain, but there were no shots fired. Jamel heard one of the guys say that he had the shit. Greg was pulling up when they heard a scuffle and one of the guys yell, “Get that nigga!”

DC had broken free and was heading for the door then a couple of shots rang out. Jamel was out of the truck before Greg had a chance to put it in park. The men were already running out. They were all dressed in black and two of the men were carrying a canvas gym bag and pistol. The others had nothing but a pistol in hand. They noticed Greg hurrying out of his truck staying on the driver’s side using the vehicle as cover. They never saw Jamel and he quickly eliminated the two who had the bags. He’d be damned if they were going to get away with the kilos of cocaine. The two men lay on the ground motionless while one of the other two tried to head back to get one of the bags while his boy laid cover fire on Jamel. Greg saw this and started firing. He missed and the man was able to grab one of the bags and dip into the dark alley. Jamel gave chase and caught the man. He hit him with a shot to the back of his thigh. The man went tumbling over losing hold of the thousands of dollars worth of drugs. Jamel grabbed the bag as the man limped around the corner. The sounds of the fast approaching squad cars caused Jamel to head back to check on Greg where shots had ceased firing. When he arrived he noticed Greg pulling DC out of the apartment. He was covered with blood but was coherent.

“Get the shit!” Greg commanded.

Jamel grabbed the other bag. He was about to make his way to the Explorer but made a beeline to one of the dead men instead. He snatched the mask off the man’s face. He recognized the youngster but didn’t know who he was affiliated with. He let go of his head and the dead weight quickly dropped on the grass. He ran and jumped in the Explorer and Greg peeled out. DC was in pain but the shot wasn’t critical—he would live. They headed for one of Greg’s places that was safe and they watched as two squads with flashing blue lights zoomed past. Greg grabbed his cell and flipped it open so he could call Noonie to tell him the bad news.

*     *     *

The two dope fiends were walking up the block on 22
^nd
avenue. The two teenage Hispanics were standing on the corner leaning on a street pole and the orange hazy light shone down on them. It was almost midnight and one of Chavez’s men would be there soon to make a pickup of drug money. They were starting to get cold seeing as how they had underdressed wearing the thin jackets that they had on earlier in the day. They had been living in the windy city too long not to know that the October weather was a beast. Especially when the wind shifted and that hawk came screaming off the lake.

Rudy blew into his hands and nodded toward the two fiends coming toward them—two regulars. Angel saw the nod from his partner and he looked the man and woman’s way. He reached in his pocket and clutched four of the plastic twenty-dollar packets, the usual purchase for the street couple.

Once the two made their purchase the stolen Chevy that had been down the block for over an hour came to life. It eased up the street at a normal pace and it caught the attention of the young clockers who thought another serve might be on. When they saw the windows were tinted they didn’t think it was a geeker coming to get a hit so Rudy clutched his pistol.

As the car stopped just a few feet away from them, Angel gritted, “Was’sup homes, you know where you at?”

The brotha on the passenger’s side calmly asked, “How do we get to Avalon?”

“Nigga what the fuck we look like, map quest? Get the fuck outta here befo’ we blast y’all asses.”

The driver of the Chevy said, “Chill man we outta here. But first peep this.”

Angel went for his pistol, but it was too late. The passenger had upped a street sweeper blasting buckshot’s into the two men. A fatal blow to the chest for one, and a fatal blow to the head for the other. The driver jumped out and ran to the house that they knew to be one of Chavez’s spots, which in turn was a moneymaker for the Fuentes’. He threw a cocktail through the window and the bottle shattered as it hit the living room floor and lit gasoline, quickly spreading in the home. It didn’t take long for a couple of young men and a woman, who was naked and obviously a trick for some dope, to come running out of the house that was quickly lighting up like a Christmas tree. The woman and young men looked horrified when they saw that they had jumped out of the fire and into the frying pan.

“Don’t,” was the only word the woman managed to cry as she and the young men stared down the barrels of the street sweeper and Mac-10.

The men cut loose making sure not to hit the woman. Their targets flew back and fell to the ground and blood quickly pooled under their lifeless bodies. The chubby Mexican woman stood naked under the streetlight shaking with her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around her body in a futile attempt to cover her sagging breast. She had come to do what she had done many times before, give up her body to the young men for something that was going to slowly kill her and now she was facing a quick death.

“Tell Carlos that there’s no more selling on this block!”  The man yelled as he heard the faint sounds of sirens.

“Yeah, tell Carlos this ain’t his block no more. Please, don’t kill me.”

Boom!
The man fired buckshots into the air and the woman screamed and peed on herself. But then realized that her life had been spared. The men had jumped into the Chevy and fled.

*     *     *

Noonie and Ant arrived at Greg’s spot with the doctor that they paid well for calls like this. He fixed DC up and gave him some antibiotics. He told him that he needed to get plenty of rest and to change the bandages every four hours and that he’d be okay. The men were thankful for that. Noonie wanted to light into his best friend for being stupid. Greg had filled him in on everything that DC had told him when he called and what happened thereafter. Noonie talked to Anthony and they figured that it was Bone. The shit with Cat was too obvious. She knew all about the kilos and Chantel had told Noonie that a stylist she knew at Studio 5 beauty shop in Gary told her that her cousin said that Cat had her own place and a nearly new Accord. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it all out especially with the information Noonie had received from Boogie when they were at the club. He figured it was time to do damage of his own.

“You ready to do some damage?” Noonie asked Anthony.

“Say the word, cuz. I’m tired of reacting. It’s time to take shit to muthafuckas.”

Noonie lit a blunt as he stared into the living room at his partner. He puffed hard and inhaled the smoke. “Word,” was all he said as he passed the blunt to Ant.

*     *     *

Chavez sat in the passenger’s seat of the GMC Sierra pickup truck. His driver, Petey, asked, “You want me to park here?” 

“Yeah, this cool,” Chavez told the young soldier.

They were on 22
^nd
avenue watching one of Chavez’s spots burn to the ground. Petey pulled the tricked out truck into the parking space. It was a tight fit but he made it. Fire trucks and police cars were down the block as were a lot of citizens watching what was going on in the Hispanic neighborhood. Chavez was chilling in the club when he got the call twenty minutes ago from one of his shorties who lived down the block from the house that was going down in flames. Chavez immediately left the party that he was attending for one of his four baby mamas. He was high from the weed he’d been smoking, the cocaine he’d been sniffing and the Patron he been sipping and he had plans to get his freak on with the birthday baby mama
and
her girlfriend
.
Hell, it was going to be more like his birthday than hers. But the new Toyota Camry he’d purchased for her made her want to do anything for him. But the news of someone having the balls to hit one of his spots blew his high. He continued to stare out of the windshield as he talked to Petey.

“Dial that fool and see what he found out.”

Chavez was speaking of the shorty who’d called him. He was down the block as close to the scene as the police were letting the spectators. When Petey reached Alberto he asked the teenager what he had for him. Alberto told him that all he could tell was that someone firebombed the house and had killed all four of the homies but let a trick that was in the house go and told her to send a message or something like that. Chavez grinned at the fact that someone had the nerve to think that they could send
him
a message. Alberto told him that it was two black dudes in a Chevy and thoughts ran through Chavez’s mind. He told Alberto that he’d hit him up after they snatched her up so he’d be able to find out for sure what she knew.

“I just lost two kilos of coke and fifteen grand worth of ecstasy in that place, can you believe some fuckin’ nigga’s had the nerve to come up on my part of town and hit my fucking place? What’s this world coming to? Let’s get the fuck outta here. Take me back to the club so I can get my high back.”  He looked at his Jacobs. “Shit, it ain’t even one yet. We still got time to do it up for Tee Tee,” Chavez laughed.

Petey made a u-turn and headed back to where they came from. He couldn’t see the irony in the way his boss joked about the situation. One of the young men killed was his friend since the days of bottles and pacifiers and he thought they should be looking for the killers. He would have been furious if it were his spot and he’d be out seeking revenge. He was twenty, nine years younger than Chavez and had been in the game since way back when he was only twelve making runs for the dealers in the ’hood. He’d seen a lot of shit and he would have been on a search and destroy instead of heading for the club. But that’s what Chavez’s nephew was going to learn about his uncle. That shit didn’t faze him and that he enjoyed being a killer more than dealing drugs.

It’s All About Family

I
t was early Saturday morning when Devin pulled his Impala into the driveway of his mother’s home in Avon, a middle class suburb just west of Indianapolis. He looked over at Lisa who was fidgeting with her hands. Devin put his hand on top of hers, and they both rested on her thigh. He knew just how to soothe her. She liked the way he had become so in tune with her tendencies and her feelings. They had been dating for five months and it felt like five years—five good years. She had completely forgotten about Terrance, in the sexual way that is. They were going to always be friends, especially with all that he’d done for her, but he was happy and getting married in the spring. She was also happy and was about to visit Devin’s mother, and she was nervous seeing as how in the twenty-seven years of her life no man she was involved with ever took her to meet his mother.