Thug Matrimony (28 page)

“He’ll kill me, man.”

“What the fuck you think I’ma do? Along with your whole damn family.”

“Awww, man.” He started bawling.

“Let’s go.” Kaylin motioned to Kajuan, who hauled off and punched Dude in the face.

“See you later.” Kajuan smirked.

“Hold up. Phillip, Phillip Johnson.”

Kaylin turned around in his tracks.

“That’s who sent me, man. Please give me back my wallet.”

Kajuan emptied the shells out of the nine, wiped his prints off on his shirt, and dropped the gun onto the floor.

“Please, give me back my shit,” Wallace pleaded.

“Dawg, you better get the fuck outta here, unless you ready to go to jail,” Kajuan warned him as the footsteps coming up the stairs became louder. Kajuan left him there and jetted up the stairwell and caught up with Kaylin.

“All right, here is the deal,” Kaylin announced when he stepped onto the Critical Care Unit. “This is a celebrity. She’s in critical condition. There have already been two attempts on her life, you have no security in here so I want her moved to an undisclosed location. Right now! I’m calling my attorney and if you don’t honor my request, he will make sure that I own this fuckin’ hospital!”

Kaylin, Kajuan, Bo, and Omar were all seated in Trae’s living room. He was getting stronger and healthier. And he looked to have put on ten or fifteen pounds.

“Man, this joint holds a lot of history.” Omar snickered.

“Don’t it, though?” Bo agreed. “Kay, tell Trae how Kajuan jumped over the rail at the hospital and nabbed Dude. He turned into supercop!” Bo and Omar started laughing.

“Don’t tell him, bro.” Kajuan was embarrassed. “I don’t know what the fuck got into me.”

Trae smiled and looked over at his boy, Kay. “Nigga, you need to talk. You been in your own little world over there. You lookin’ stressed the fuck out. Talk, nigga. Say sumthin.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Anywhere. Spit, nigga.”

“Everything is happening at once. It’s shit in the pressure cooker and it’s getting ready to explode. And everything needs my attention. Red, she fuckin’ having nightmares about this nigga. It’s a must that I take care of his ass soon as I handle this Mickey shit. And then there’s Lil’E. Phillip Johnson sent the same nigga up to the hospital twice to finish her off. I had to get her moved to a hospital up in Jersey. That took the mayor’s office and everyone else to pull that off. Then Papi. I was planning to make mad loot off this cat, but it looks like the only time I’ll catch Mickey is when he is with Papi.” He sighed as he rubbed his temples.

“So, what’s the status with the Don’s work? Where are we on that again?” Trae quizzed.

“The dude, Mickey, comes in twice a week. We’ve had a tail on him for a couple of weeks. He either goes to a hotel or spends time with Papi.”

“Who is this Papi cat? What does he have to do with Mickey?” Trae asked. “Are they lovers or some shit like that?”

“We haven’t figured that out yet.” Kaylin sighed. “But I got an investigator working on that as we speak.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Trae wanted to know.

“The next time he goes to Papi’s we gonna make our move. We have a better chance getting into Papi’s crib and getting right out. A hotel, that shit is too damn risky. We would have to find the room and get past security. Again, it’s too damn risky.”

“Well, what about your star? You’re going to merk him too?” Trae prodded.

Kaylin sighed. “If I have to … yes.”

“You’re going to have to. No ifs, nigga. You can’t leave a witness. Star or no star. Y’all understand that?” Trae looked everyone
in the eye. Everyone nodded. “Aiight, cool. So the only thing left is to get it done and over with.”

Everyone stood up to leave. Kaylin went over to Trae and said, “Yo, if sumthin happens to me, just make sure my family is straight.”

“Nigga, we already discussed this, ain’t nothing changed. I got you,” Trae assured him. “I’m just mad that I can’t go along.”

“I’m takin ‘ over the world/one city at a time with every nickel and dime …”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, dis is DJ Kay Slay, showing mad love to Lil’E. That was her joint, ‘Hustler’s Anthem.’”

“Whooooweeee! That joint is pumpin’!” Whitey was still jamming to the beat of “Hustler’s Anthem.”

“Man, shut up,” Bullet snapped as the DJ continued.

“The industry scoop is, for those of you who have been living under a rock, Lil’E was beaten, shot three times, and her unborn child is dead. The latest news is that Phillip Johnson, CEO of Tyrant Music, is a suspect and that the baby was his. Deep, ain’t it? Anyways, get well soon, Lil’E, we all pullin’ for ya. And shout out to Game Over Records. And to you, Phillip Johnson, run, negro, run. But … I don’t think you can hide! As a matter of fact, you might as well come on back. Prove your innocence, bruh, you lookin’ guilty. Come on in.”

“I wish I could have hit that. Man, that bitch must have nine lives. I may still have a chance to get up in that. You think she’ll go out with me?”

“Fool, didn’t you just hear what he said? She hotter than fuck. Plus, she can ID yo’ dumb ass.”

“I’m only playin’, man.”

“No, you wasn’t.”

Lil’E was now conscious and in stable condition in intensive care. She told Kaylin and the police that Phillip Johnson was the responsible party. She said nothing about the white dude, the big black guy, and the third man whose voice she heard but whom she didn’t see.

The Santos household had been on pins and needles, Angel being unusually withdrawn and secretive. Kaylin was thinking it was because he had been focused on making sure Lil’E was safe, Phillip was being hunted, and he finally had a definite lead on Snake. He could reach out and touch him whenever he wanted. But tonight was Mickey Reye’s night. All of this was in Kaylin’s mind as they were tailing behind his car.

“Mama Santos, how is she?” Angel had just landed in Miami on a private jet.

“Stop worrying. She’s my grandbaby and she’s fine.”

“I can’t help it. This is my first time leaving her. I had planned on nursing for at least three months, but things are beginning to get crazy.” She tried to tell herself that, more than Mrs. Santos.

“You could have squeezed some milk into a bottle,” she scolded. “I nursed her father for ten months. I wish you would have nursed longer. She is only five weeks old.”

“I know, let me go because you’re making me feel guilty. Kiss her for me. I’ll call you later. Bye-bye.”

Angel flagged down a taxi and handed the driver a slip of paper with the address on it. He got out of the front seat, took her bags, and threw them in the trunk. She slipped into the backseat, popped on her shades, and focused on the task at hand.

“Good,” Kaylin said. He was glad that Mickey went to Papi’s house tonight instead of a hotel. He didn’t want to prolong this mission any longer. They were hoping to get into Papi’s house, handle Mickey, and get out quickly. They parked in the cut and let the engine run. Kaylin’s cell vibrated and he started to ignore it but changed his mind when he saw the Miami area code. “Pras, I’m tied up, what’s good?”

“Man, I don’t even know how to tell you this.”

“What, nigga? Spit it out. I’m in the middle of sumthin.” He kept his eye glued to Papi’s house.

“Wifey just pulled up in front of your boy’s spot.”

Kaylin got a nasty taste in his mouth and his head began to spin. “Come again?”

“Wifey just pulled up in front of this pimp nigga’s house.”

“Man … what is you talking about? My wife is home.”

“I know what I see. And this is wifey. But hey, I just figured I’d let you know. What you want me to do?”

“You know what I want you to do but it’s sumthin that I need to handle. Damn! Just stay posted. I’ll get back at you.” He ended that call and frantically dialed his house phone.

Omar, Kajuan, and Bo all looked at one another and shrugged.

After Kaylin accepted that he wasn’t going to get an answer, his heart rate sped up. He dialed her cell phone.

“Hello.”

Kaylin breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey.”

“Hey back. I love you.”

“I love you more, what’s up? I called the house, no answer. Where you at? The baby with you? Why you ain’t call and tell me you had to run out?”

“Sumthin came up. The baby is at your mother’s.”

“What? What is so important that you felt the need to leave our child?”

“I got sumthin to take care of, Kaylin. Just like you always got sumthin to take care of.”

“Oh, it’s like that now?”

“Oh, believe me, it’s been like this for a while.”

“It has? Well, when were you planning on filling me in?”

“I shouldn’t have to if you’d pay more attention to me and our newborn baby. But c’mon, Kaylin, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Then what’s the real deal, Red? ‘Cause you and I both know you spittin’ bullshit right now.”

“Please, trust me like I trust you, and this is not a good time.”

Kaylin started laughing his pissed-off laugh. “Yo, I’ll see you lat—”

She cut him off. “I gotta go.” And she ended the call by turning her phone off. He was still laughing, crazy, as he dialed her back. When it went to voice mail he hung up and called Bobbi.

“Hello.”

“Bobbi, it’s me. Have a private flight ready for me within the hour.”

“Oookay … uh … where to?”

“Miami.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks.” He hung up and had this crazy look in his eyes. “The Grim Reaper is definitely earning his stripes tonight. Y’all ready to do this?”

Everyone nodded, put on gloves, and gripped their heat.

“You gonna fill us in or what?” Kajuan asked what was on everyone else’s mind.

“Let’s do this first.” He opened his car door and everyone followed. Kajuan remained focused on the house with the car running.

Angel still could hear the hurt in Kaylin’s voice but she tossed him out of her mind and plastered on her game face.

Earlier the taxi had eased into the driveway of a stucco-covered condo, surrounded by palm trees. The driver beeped the horn. After several minutes, Snake came out of the house and looked
at Angel with a smirk on his face. The cabbie popped the trunk and grabbed Angel’s garment bag.

Now, two hours later, they were finishing up their dinner. He had cooked a meal of steamed lobster, baked potatoes, spinach salad, and grilled vegetable shish kebabs.

“You hardly touched your dinner. I’m a little hurt.”

“Don’t be. I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“You used to love my cooking. I taught you a few tricks around the kitchen, remember?”

“Of course I do. That was when I
used
to love you.” She sipped a little of the wine that he served.

“Used to, huh?” He smirked. “You like that wine? I had that shit imported.”

“It’s all right, a little too sour for my taste.”

“Damn, I just can’t get it right with you, can I?”

“That should tell you sumthin, don’t you think?”

He let go of a huge sigh. “Why, Angel? How could you so easily walk away from what we had? How the fuck am I supposed to understand that?”

“What we had! What I had was a lot of muthafuckin’ ass whippings and a whole bunch of excuses for why you did it. Sorry this and sorry that. And understand? Understand what? Understand why I loved you for who you were and unconditionally. But you never respected me, loved me, or cared about me. Is that what you don’t understand? But what I do and what you need to understand is that you never knew what love was. I had to eventually come to terms with that. And you know what? You did me a favor by leaving me and I thank you.

“After I accepted that you were dead, I began to move on. Then I met Kaylin and I fell in love with him, Keenan. I love him. And you can’t change that. He took your place in my heart. Do you understand?”

Snake poured himself another glass of wine and gulped it down. Despite how sure of himself he sounded, he still had a
hard time letting go and it pissed him off for being so gone over her. She leaned back into her chair and they indulged in a stare-down.

“You are so fine. And if, in the morning, you can look me in the eye and tell me that bullshit you just spoke, I’ma let you go.”

“Whatever, negro. So, what? Is this the part of the evening where we are supposed to fuck?”

He smirked. “Yeah, we’ll see if that nasty attitude will be with you in the morning.”

“We will, won’t we?” She got up from the table. “I’m going to take a nice, long, hot, bath.”

“Can I—”

“Alone, Keenan,” she said as she sauntered off to the master bedroom.

He pumped his fist and mouthed, “Yesss!” as he excitedly began to clear the dinner table.

“Who is it?” Mickey Reyes answered as he unlocked the door. “Mijo, you expecting company? Or did you order another one of those doughy Greek pizzas?” He cracked the door, and Kaylin pushed it open and rushed him, pressing his .357 to his head. The other two men with ski masks on came in quickly and quietly behind him and closed the door.

“Shh!” Kaylin put his fingers to his lips. The other two men began to search the house, with guns drawn.

“What is it? You want money? Do you know who I am?” Mickey asked, showing no signs of fear.

“No one else is here, except for Dude,” Omar whispered. “And he’s in the bathroom.”

“Good.” Kaylin quickly screwed on the silencer. “This is from Don Alexjandro and Don Carlos.”

“Wait, just don’t kill my s—”

Plat, plat, plat.

The first bullet pierced his forehead, the second one entered his chest, and the last one tore through his stomach.

“Let’s dip,” Bo said.

As they turned to open the front door, Papi stuck his head out of the bathroom. “Hey, Papi, put on some music. I brought you a couple of CDs, a classic Chick Corea, Santana, and Celia Cruz. Plus, you gotta hear my first single. Dad! You hear me? What are you doing?”

The three of them exited quickly toward the awaiting vehicle.

Angel sat in the tub crying and trying to gas herself up to be so close to a nigga that she hated. He made her sick. She jumped when she heard a tap on the door.

“Yo, you still alive in there?”