Page 45 of Dreaux: The Corporate Assassin

“As you know, Bryce Holmes, Georgia’s lieutenant governor, is one of the nation’s sickest men. The evidence of what he had done to countless women and children is substantial. We also have documents showing he has menandwomen alike who share the same sick obsession as him and have either participated in the trafficking or have purchased those being trafficked. Next week, we’ll meet up with him and receive what we bid on at the auction—children.”

When I found out that Holmes was the head of the trafficking ring we’d been attempting to pinpoint since Rosier brought Gabby, I immediately jumped into action. After days of research and surveillance, I learned about Holmes Hideaway Charity. It wasn’t a true charity, as he claimed; it was his way of selling women and kids. The number of days at an exotic location was the ages of the young girls he was selling as bids.

“As of now, I don’t know who the girls are and probably won’t know until the pickup.” I glanced around at the guys, who were just as pissed as I was. “I know you guys aren’t fond of bringing outsiders into our business, but I feel like I need to speak with Uno and Skip regarding what we have discovered. After doing some digging, I’m just about sure that Holmes has a meeting spot in Milly Grove. I want to give them a heads-up about the potential fallout that’s going to go on in their city.”

Since being in Milly Grove, Skip and I have gotten the closest. He’s quiet, but that is his natural personality. He spoke when necessary and left the extra shit for everyone else. I’d learned he didn’t have to say much for a nigga to feel what he had to say, though. He is a deadly motherfucker, just like me, so I had a genuine respect for him.

Zoo sighed and nodded. “I’m going to let you call the shots on this one, Andre because I trust you to make the right decision.” He paused, and I waited for him to give me a “but” attached to his statement. Instead, he smirked maliciously. “What are you doing with Denim?”

Sitting back in my seat, thoughts of how I wanted to end her came to mind. She can’t be trusted, and I’ve killed niggas for less. The only thing that was keeping her alive was the fact that I wanted her to know about what her child’s father was up to before her demise.

“Leave Denim to me.” He eyed me for a moment and nodded. Turning to Jules, his eyes were already on me. “You got something you want to say?”

“I do.” He sipped his Kool-Aid Jammers pouch, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. There wasn’t shit serious about this nigga today. “Would you like to know what Mattie Boudreaux is up to?”

The mere mention of my mother’s name caused hurt and hatred to flow through my veins. To know she was wired up and tried to jam me up spoke of how damaged our relationship was. Her days were numbered—just like Denim’s—and I wasn’t sad about it.

“Is she still in the Grove, or is she back in Florida?”

“Oh, she’s here in the city.” Jules’ smile was eerie as he eyed me. “We snatched her up the day we followed her to the park to meet your little girlfriend.”

Glaring at him, he laughed as he stood and walked to the other side of the room. The day she left the penthouse, I knew she had called Wild to take her back to the airport. I paid him to stick around and keep an eye on her without approaching her. No questions were asked as he tailed my mother through the airport. He watched as she frantically made calls to who I now know was her contact at the precincts here in Florida. Too bad for them, Mimi was tracking her phone. That officer is now scattered in bits throughout Zoo’s gator pit.

The night I purged my soul to Denim, I knew she was awake. She did good with changing her breathing, making subtle movements to indicate she was in a slumber, but I was Andre motherfucking Boudreaux. Her FBI training held no weight against real-life experience. I knew what a body felt like when it was sleep because I’d put many niggas in a chokehold. Denim was taking the opportunity to learn all she could to make her next move. Being vulnerable about my relationship with my mother was real, and revealing it was comforting for me. However, I wasn’t expecting Denim not to act on it. After hearing how she despised me, I knew she would jump at the chance to speak with Mattie. I trailed her as she made her move to do as I’d predicted. I was concealed as she met up in the park with my mother with a folder. I looked on in anger and disgust as they spoke with each other before my mother frantically ran off. Denim was rattled by what Mattie had said as she scanned the park, looking for what I assumed was someone following her.

“What are your plans for her?” I looked between Zoo and Jules. “I’ve come to peace with whatever your choice is. However, I’m worried about my grandparents, but I believe they will be okay.”

“Let us worry about that,” Jules stated as he reclaimed his seat. “I know this shit is tough, man. You loved your parents, and to find out they weren’t solid has to be harsh. Just know at the end of the day, even without this mafia shit, we’re family. We’re brothers. We love you and will help get you through whatever.”

Slapping hands with them both, I turned to the elevator dinging. Luca stepped off, followed by three of the family representatives for today’s meeting. It was time to get down to Family business.

“Andre… nice to see you again.” Mr. Laurent patted my back once he entered the room. “I was certainly going to reach out to you once this meeting was over.”

“Something wrong?” I looked at the older gentlemen as the other guys took their seats. “You need my help with something?”

“Indeed, I do.” He gave me a knowing look. “There’s a man by the name of Sigmon Clay. I don’t want to elaborate, but he’s been sticking his nose in places he has no business. I have five million for you if you need moreincentiveto make it happen.”

In this business, I learned not to ask questions if they weren’t needed. I’ve done enough jobs for Laurent to know that if you have a hit on your head, it’s ethics. He isn’t the type to kill men to take over their business or for personal gain. It’s always about the principle with him, and it’s why he was my favorite client.

Leaning over, I extended my hand to agree to the job. With a pleased smile, he accepted my hand, giving me a firm shake.

“Consider it done, Mr. Laurent.”

* * *

It was wellafter ten at night, and the air around me stilled. Back in the city of Milly Grove, there wasn’t a creature in sight because they could sense that death was near. When the reaper was present, nothing or no one wanted to be in his path. Tonight, Mr. Sigmon Clay would meet his fate, and I was the one to collect his soul.

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion, blot out my transgressions.

Dressed in all black, I climbed the side of the building with my McMillian TAC-50 strapped to my back. This kill would be quick, even though he didn’t deserve it. Tonight, I decided to have mercy on him—something rare for me.

As I settled on the roof, I placed my rifle on the tripod and kept my eye on the club’s entrance. I’d done a quick skim of the businesses in the vicinity and scoped all the different surveillance cameras. Near the rougher parts of Grove Heights, I’d bet the cameras didn’t work even though I was going to make sure all footage of me was deleted regardless. Once I had everything set up, I crouched down to better position myself and awaited my target. Patience was key, and tonight, I had a lot of it.

Hearing a set of metal doors creak, I placed my eye on the scope of my gun and watched as Sigmon Clay stumbled out of the local strip club. My sight stayed on him as he stilled and looked around the parking lot as if he could sense something was amiss. Peering around, he fumbled with the keys in his pocket, but he didn’t have a chance to remove them before I sent a bullet to his dome.

Pew!

I watched as his body dropped onto the empty lot with a smile of satisfaction. I love it when my victims never see me coming. It gives me a rush knowing that they think they’ve lived another day without paying for the consequences of their actions. While I don’t know what he did to Mr. Laurent, I know for a fact he was not a good man.

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