Page 85 of Dope Boys: Most Wanted
A smirk crossed Markus’ face. “You would’ve regretted it. The nigga couldn’t see past his dick.”
Javier gave him a lopsided smirk before waving him to the patio. “Come.”
Markus and Svyn waited for Javier to take four steps ahead before starting in the direction of the patio. Their Timberland-covered feet trailed Javier and his slippers. On the all-white patio, the sun blinded them. An infinity pool filled with more naked women, a glass table with coke residue on it, and a bar nearby.
Javier sat at the table, took a line, and then looked up at the pair. “Please sit. Want some?”
“Nah,” the pair answered.
Another test. Javier gave another grin. “Rumor has it there were four of you. Where are the other two?”
“Had to make some changes. I can’t have fuckery around me. This is my right hand, Svyn.”
“You seem small. How can you handle my product?” Javier asked, sitting back, waiting for one of the naked women to bring his glass of liquor over.
“I’ve acquired all of Luciano’s territories. I have strong connects with the Marucci’s and the Rene-François Family upstate. With the mayor out of the way, it’s a free flow upstream, if money is what you like making.”
Javier stared at him for a long while before he asked, “How do you handle violators?”
“We drop them from buildings,” Svyn spoke.
Javier glared at him before he roared in laughter.
“I fuckin’ like that shit! Ay bitch!” The clap of Javier’s hands got the attention of another naked woman. “Bring these men something to eat!”
It was always the performative bullshit that pissed Markus off. Fake nigga shit. The food came with a side of coke and women after Markus and Svyn had declined. It was the same test throughout the evening. If it wasn’t that this nigga Javier was coked up out of his mind, or constantly offering him pussy, and whatever other drugs he had casually lying around – being in his presence was equally as annoying. Especially with Markus on a road to sobriety and the weight that came with being a better man. Markus came down here for one thing, and he intended to leave with it. But this parade of a whole bunch of nothing was chipping away at his poker face.
When he landed, he ensured the two idiots he had to babysit were distracted with tedious things like rolling around Ocean City and finding out how far Javier’s arms reached. They would only come back with the information he already knew or was about to find out.
Javier stopped in the great room in front of a wall of photos. “I’ve ran The Port and Ocean City for a long time. I had bitchestrafficked in and out of here from Ganton Hills to Waynesville. I’d like to have the same setup for Majestic on one condition.”
Markus and Svyn swayed impatiently, but subtly. “What’s that?”
“My Reign. She’s….missing,” Javier stated.
The mention of Reign’s name made Markus’ core tighten, and Svyn’s jaw flexed. Javier snatched the photo off the wall and placed it on the table. “You see, she’s mine. I paid good money for her, and she’s gotten the idea in her head that she’s better off without all of this. Bring her back to me, and I’ll open the floodgates of heaven for you. I’ll be in Majestic Heights to collect her and my first payment in three weeks. Don’t deliver, you’ll end up in my garden.”
Markus and Svyn shared a look and then a nod as if they were on the same brain wave.
Svyn gave Javier a devilish smirk and rubbed his hands together. “We can do that.”
“You said her name was Reign?” Markus asked, playing the role.
Javier nodded. “Reign Nieves. I want her back. Three weeks.”
Markus smirked. “Say less.”
“This is fuckin’stupid,” Angel muttered, frowning at the scene. A whole in the wall lounge located in Ocean City in the section the locals called The Gutter. When the pair pulled up, there was a line of bright colored Chargers parked out front.
“Money sent us on a fuckin’ dummy mission,” Brantley responded, sitting at a bar picking over a basket of wings. He looked around and observed a few hustlers who weren’t payingattention, too busy talking amongst themselves. The thing about Brantley and Angel, they never wanted to work for anything. Everything needed to come to them. There wouldn’t be anything to report back to Markus outside of the fact that they’d been sitting in a stale-smelling lounge for the day, watching hustlers shoot the shit. A few runners move in and out, and the women lounge around waiting for someone to do.
Basic shit. No boss present, just a bunch of workers. Brantley frowned, the sting of him falling from grace only making him more and more bitter by the passing second.
“I’m getting tired of this sitting shit,” Angel huffed, leaning back in the chair as the door opened.
Brantley’s eyes moved from the bar in front of him to the man entering. His presence seemed to spark attention. The chatter stopped, the women perked up, and the runners turned to show him some respect. It wasn’t subtle at all. The people coming in for a plate of subpar wings and fries even noticed.
Nudging his brother, Brantley threw his head slightly toward the commotion.
