Page 40 of Dope Boys: Most Wanted
“You done bullshittin’?” Markus asked.
“What’s the plan?” Svyn said, skipping over the comment; detecting the deadly cool in Markus’ voice.
“Them hustlers at Sunset.”
“For what?” Svyn asked. “What the fuck they do?”
“Violated. Niggas don’t sell work, they play hustlers. I’ll pay Jaheed not to hear or see shit.”
“You know Luciano ain’t gon’ like this,” Svyn shared as if Markus didn’t know what he was getting ready to do.
“Luciano should tell his hustlers the rules,” Markus said before hanging up.
From the doctor’s office to grabbing an unmarked car from the warehouse. Markus rode over to the Sunset Inn. This side of town really irritated him. The drug game was the drug game, it was dirty, grimy, and treacherous but your city didn’t have to look like that. Markus took pride in his businesses looking like something. Hiding in plain sight, people spent their money with him, being a drug dealer didn’t phase them because before it all,he was a businessman. Luciano was a terrorist with a soft spot for his people but that didn’t show through what these blocks looked like.
Outside of the Sunset Inn, Markus stepped out onto the filthy sidewalk and took in the scenery. Luciano’s girls coming back in from their nightly stroll. The hustlers, dirty and congregating in the lobby as if they’d done work all night. There was no way Luciano was making money on the lower end like he was uptown.
He walked into the building, found Jaheed and motioned him to take a break.
“Oh shit, that’s Money,” one of the hustlers said, nudging the other. Even Luciano’s girls perked up, ready for another round as if Markus would spit in their direction.
“You, you, and you, get out,” Markus grumbled to the women, pointing at them with his gun.
They wasted no time scurrying up the dirty stairs toward their pay by night rooms.
“Which one of you niggas got a habit of putting your hands on women?” Markus asked cooly.
The coolness, despite the pills in his system numbing the pain in his shoulder, was menacing.
They looked at each other before fumbling over one another to say a bunch of nothing.
“Uh uh, muhfucka. What was the price?” Markus asked, silencing the two.
“Three bands,” one answered.
“Some nigga named KC told us to deliver the bitch untouched. We’d been watching her come and go for three days,” the other added.
Markus curled his lip at their stupidity. “Where this nigga KC?”
“He some down south nigga in a suit. Came in the club looking for his shorty. He wants her back, guess she a money maker or something. Money, that’s it we swear. We out of three bands and you know Luciano don’t play about us coming up short.”
“Neither do I,” Markus said firing a shot into one’s skull and looking at the other. “Run.”
The man took off, earning a bullet in the back of his head. Markus walked out, finding Jaheed smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk. Markus stood next to him and handed him a knot of cash.
“You know what to do,” Markus muttered.
Jaheed took the money, slipped it into his pocket and lowly spoke, “didn’t see you. Don’t even know you. It was a deal gone bad.”
“Good. Find something else to do than manage this bullshit,” Markus stated. “I got a feeling it’ll be shut down by tomorrow.”
He left the man there, got back in his car and headed back over to his side of town. The vehicles were switched and he was back at the doctor’s office waiting on Reign to walk out. When the door opened and Reign appeared with some papers in hand, he got out to open her door.
“You don’t have to keep doing that,” Reign grumbled when she got closer. “I can open my own door.”
“You could but you aren’t,” he stated, watching her get in.
Back inside and pulling away, he pointed to the bag by her feet. “There’s a breakfast burrito in there. Might not be hot anymore but it’s something. Unless you want something else?”
