Welfare Wifeys (11 page)

“Just be easy for now, Lee. When the time comes for the power to shift, you and your boys just be ready to bust your guns,” Rico told him.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Changa asked the frail busboy who was eavesdropping from the corner. He had been watching them for a while but no one but Changa had noticed.

“Nothing,” the boy said quickly and went to wiping down one of the tables. The way the man with the sunglasses looked at him made his flesh crawl.

“Leave him alone, Changa. The boy is the cook’s nephew,” Rico told him. “Come here, little man.” Rico waved the boy over. The boy reluctantly approached the table, but he kept his eyes fixed on his shoes. “Look at me.” Rico tapped the boy on the chin and forced him to meet his deadly stare. “Didn’t anybody ever tell you that it was rude to listen in on grown people’s conversations?” Rico motioned toward his men.

The boy wrung his hands together nervously when he spoke. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to stare, but I’ve never seen guys with such nice clothes. My auntie tells me that you’re important, but she never says how. I figured you were movie stars or something so I was trying to see what shows I knew you from.”

This got a hearty laugh from Rico. “Your auntie was right to tell you that we were important men, but we ain’t no movie stars.”

“Yeah, we’re
block
stars,” Lee added comically and all the men laughed.

Rico wiped the tear of laughter from the corner of his eye and pulled his bankroll from his pants pocket. He tossed a fifty on the table and stood up with his jacket. “Thanks for the chuckle, kid. That’s for you.” He nodded at the money. “Make sure you clean this table good and tell your auntie she needs to speak with me, okay?” Rico patted him on the cheek twice.

The busboy stood there smiling and nodding like an idiot until Rico and his men had left the restaurant. He dipped one of the dinner napkins into an abandoned glass of water and wiped his face where Rico’s vile hand had touched him. After making sure nobody was watching, the busboy used the steak knife to pick the Pepsi can up off the table and dropped it into the pocket of his apron. It was the easiest five hundred dollars he had ever made.

“Why are you always messing with that thing?” Rico asked Ras, who was scrolling on his BlackBerry.

“It’s how I stay connected with the world,” Ras said, not bothering to take his eyes off the BlackBerry screen. “Oh, shit. Did y’all hear about this nigga getting killed in PA?” Ras held up the BlackBerry so they could see the news article he had pulled up on the screen.

“So what? Niggaz get killed every day. What’s so special about that stiff in PA?” Changa asked.

“Because we know him!” Ras said excitedly. “Y’all don’t remember that cat Rock Head from 140th?”

“You mean that dude who snitched on all those people? Fuck him, I got a cousin doing ten flat because of his rat ass,” Rico said. “I think all snitches should be tortured and put to death.”

“He was tortured alright. The cause of death is officially a cocaine overdose, but dig this. They stuck a knife in his ass and cut out his tongue!” Ras read the details of the article to them.

“Then it was a fitting death for his bitch ass.” Rico sat on the floor. “Now instead of you chasing news articles like some fucking hard-up reporter I suggest you get back to your block to make sure the shift change goes smoothly. I’m gonna be spending the next few days getting ready for my niece’s wedding, so I ain’t gonna have time to babysit you mutts.”

“Damn, that reminds me, I got a sacred union of my own that I need to get ready for in a few.” Lee rubbed his hands greedily.

“Dawg, you’re always chasing pussy,” Ras said. He had seen Lee with chicks that looked like they’d stepped off the silver screen and he secretly resented him for it.

“If you’d seen this broad you’d be chasing her too,” Lee replied. “And I know you ain’t talking the way you and that hood-booger been hugged up lately. You getting all that cake on the block and your wife a project bitch!” Lee laughed at him.

“Watch you mouth, nigga. Mimi ain’t no project bitch, she just lives there,” Ras said.

Lee looked at him sideways. “Nigga, you know all them hos outta Taft is straight hood rats. You’ve had your head jammed so far in her ass that I’m surprised she ain’t convinced you to flip Blood yet.”

“Fuck outta here, that’s her thing not mine. The only flag I’m waving is a green one for this paper!” Ras assured him.

“You better be careful, them gang bitches can be scandalous as hell,” Changa warned.

“Nah, Mimi is different.”

“Whatever, nigga. I’m getting outta here to go dive off in something. I’ll holla.” Lee walked off.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you guys on the come around.” Ras went in the other direction.

Rico shook his head. “Pussy is gonna be the death of both them niggaz.”

Sahara was as high as a kite when the taxi deposited her on 124th and LaSalle. Scar had popped a bottle of Grey Goose and fired up two blunts of some of the stickiest weed she’d ever smoked and they were all feeling nice. When he’d thought they were all zooted Scar started getting touchy so Sahara concocted an excuse about having to leave to check on one of her aunts who was visiting from the Ivory Coast. She had been around the block far too long to fall into the trap he was trying to set. Scar was handling a few dollars but his paper was hardly long enough to get in Sahara’s pants, which was more than she could say for Boots’s thirsty ass. When Sahara had left, Boots was still sitting on the bed dreamy-eyed while Scar fondled her breasts.

As she cut up the small path leading to building 3150 she spotted a white on white 750 easing to a stop at the bus stop on the avenue. The car was heavily tinted but she knew someone important was in it the way the young girls and guys began to flock around it. Three young cats got out and pushed the crowd back to make room for the driver to exit the vehicle. He was a brown-skinned cat who wore his hair in neat cornrows with a big red medallion hanging from his neck. The driver was familiar to her but she couldn’t think
of where she had seen him before until one of the girls shouted the name
Animal
just before she fainted into her friend’s arms.

Sahara had seen Animal in videos, but he was far sexier in person. His three cronies talked shit and snapped pictures with the young groupies as if they were the ones that had an album coming out, but the Animal just smiled and nodded politely. From what Sahara remembered hearing about him from his days on the streets he was supposed to be some kind of monster, but he struck her as more of a bashful kid than anything. There was a childlike shyness to him as he stood there signing autographs in front of the projects that peeked Sahara’s curiosity. She had just made up her mind to go over and try to cut into the star when the lobby door of 3150 swung open and out stepped the man she had come uptown to see, King James.

King was a brute of a man standing at nearly six feet four and weighing somewhere in the mid-two hundreds. He was dressed in a navy-blue tracksuit with a pair of white on white Nike Airs, and a tarantula pendant that was filled with so many diamonds that it was hard to look at in the right light. At his side was his best friend and watch dog Lakim, watching the crowd forming on the avenue like a hungry dog.

“What up, ma?” King greeted Sahara with a warm bear hug.

“Hey, baby!” she squealed as if she hadn’t been plotting on another man thirty seconds prior.

“What’s going on over there?” King nodded toward the crowd around the Beamer.

“I don’t know, but son is shining real heavy,” Lakim said. “Yo, ain’t that the lil nigga from the third floor?”

King squinted his eyes and spotted little Ashanti in the crowd. “Yeah, that’s Ashanti.”

“Didn’t that nigga get thrown in a boys’ home for them bodies?” Lakim recalled.

King laughed. “You know they ain’t built a kiddy jail that could
hold that bad ass lil muthafucka.” When the crowd shifted King caught a glimpse of the medallion the driver was wearing. “Hold the fuck on, I know that ain’t who I think it is coming through my fucking hood unannounced. Come on, son.” King started down the path with Sahara and Lakim on his heels.

“Blood, you should’ve let me push that nigga Swan. We know it was him that leaned Tech so I don’t know why we playing with it,” Brasco grunted from the passenger seat of the Beamer. They had just come back from Jersey and gotten off on the 125th Street exit of the Westside Highway.

“Because one life doesn’t come close to evening the score for my brother’s life. When the wind blows I want the whole house of cards to fall,” Animal told him.

“Them niggaz was straight shook.” Ashanti laughed from the backseat, where he was playing Nefertiti in 2K10.

Animal looked in the rearview mirror at Ashanti who was wearing a mischievous grin. “Is that what you think, that Shai and Swan were afraid of us?”

“Hell yeah, we had the drop on them and they bitches so they was short!” Ashanti boasted.

Animal shook his head at Ashanti’s ignorance. “Lil brother, that wasn’t fear, it was discretion.”

Ashanti frowned as he didn’t understand the word. “You mean he thought we were gonna cut him up?”

“That’s dissection, idiot,” Nefertiti teased.

“I got your idiot right here.” Ashanti flicked the button on the controller and drained a three-pointer in the video game. Animal reached behind him and yanked the plug out of the Xbox. “What you do that for?”

“Because I need you to pay attention to what’s going on and not some fucking video game,” Animal said sternly. “Make no mistake
about this, B; you don’t survive as long as Swan has by fearing the next man. True, we would’ve laid them straight to rest if it had popped off at the mall but none of us really wanted it to go down like that. Shai’s got too much going on legitimately to be banging out in public places. If a man like him wants you dead then he sends a hit squad to wipe your family out.”

Ashanti tossed the joystick down on the leather seat. “So if he’s so bad ass, then why would we risk going in there and threatening him like that?”

“I didn’t threaten Shai; I simply told him what my position was on this whole thing. Niggaz tried to slay me and I ain’t about to let it ride. Blood will answer for blood, homey.”

“A’ight, let me see if I follow you. So, we know Swan was the one who laid Tech, but we’re not gonna hit him?” Nefertiti asked.

“Not yet. Me and Swan are gonna lock ass, but it’s gonna be on my terms and it won’t be no all-out crew thing, just two predators vying for dominance,” Animal said seriously.

“Man, I don’t give a shit who we push as long as I get to put the lean on somebody soon,” Brasco said.

Animal smiled. “All the pups will be fed when the time is right. Right now I just wanna kick back and enjoy the city.” Animal’s cell phone vibrated on the console where it rested. He looked down at the name that flashed across the caller ID screen and smiled. “What up, lil mama?” He put the call on speakerphone.

“You nigga! I thought you were gonna call me when you got uptown,” the female on the other end quizzed him. She had a sultry voice with a rough edge that reminded you of a porn star talking shit during a shoot.

“My fault, I’ve been running around taking care of business,” he told her.

“I hear that hot shit, you need to come take care of me before I catch an attitude.”

“Slow down, baby, I got you.”

“I got time for you if he don’t,” Ashanti said.

“Eww, who the fuck is that, one of them clown-ass Big Dawg niggaz?” she capped.

“Bitch, I’m a Big Dawg, but I ain’t no rapper,” Ashanti said slyly.

“That’s
five-star
bitch to you, lil nigga,” she checked him.

“I ain’t know it was like that, ma.” Ashanti took some of the base out of his voice, recognizing one of his own.

“Well, now you do, shorty. Anyway,”—she rolled her eyes on the other end as if he could see her through the phone—“Animal, what’s good? A bitch needs to get tightened up so you need to come holla at me.”

“I told you that I got you, boo. You gonna have that thing ready for me when I come through?” Animal asked.

“Baby boy, I’ve been playing wit that thing since you called me and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out,” she said seductively.

Animal smiled. “That’s my girl. Check, let me finish up with these niggaz and I’m holla at you on the later side, ya dig?”

“Don’t make it too long, daddy. You be safe out there and I love you,” she said sincerely.

“I love you too, ma,” he told her and ended the call.

“Let me find out,” Brasco said accusingly.

Animal cut his eyes at him. “Let you find out what?”

“That you ain’t as loyal to Gucci as you’ve been claiming to be.”

“Let me tell you something, blood. Two things you ain’t never gotta question are my willingness to push a nigga off this planet if the paper is right and my loyalty to Gucci. Don’t read too deep into what you hear,” Animal told him.

“Well, what I heard sounds like you about to get into some fresh pussy. I’m proud of you, son,” Nefertiti said with a broad grin, but the grin faded when Animal’s cold stare landed on him.

“Y’all muthafuckas got one-track minds. Can’t a nigga be cool with a chick without trying to fuck?” Animal asked.

“No,” the trio answered in unison.

Animal shook his head. “Well y’all need to take your minds off who I am or ain’t fucking and get it on the business. There’s killing to be done.” That silenced everyone.

After another ten minutes of riding in silence Brasco finally spoke up. “So what’s the game plan, homey? We gonna run down on this nigga Rico and eat his food or what?”

“We gonna carve that turkey up real nice, my nigga. I’m gonna stop his money and then his clock. Once we cripple his organization then when the time is right the main course will be served,” Animal assured him.

Brasco nodded in approval. “That works for me. Since you ain’t gonna let us lay hands on that yellow nigga Swan I’m gonna take Rico’s head and mount that shit on my wall. On Blood I need to feast on something, cuz my ribs is touching.”