Page 4 of Dom 3
“Pussy muhfuckas!” He shot the camera out.
Tone ran from around the corner ready to shoot. “The fuck was that?”
Dique shrugged while stepping over the glass, “Ain’t shit, just playin’ a lil Russian roulette.”
“No shit nigga, this ain’t time for target practice.” Tone muttered.
I gave Dique a look letting him know to chill. Dre came from the back holding a flimsy Cuban dude by the neck. He didn’t look like he was a killer, but a killer didn’t have a specific loom either. His eyes were red, and the veins in his head bulged like he was full of fear. Dre’s hand was damn near bigger than the dude’s neck.
“Found this one tryin’ to run out the front. I don’t know where the fuck he came from, but nobody else is here.” Dre said. Dre was one of those dudes that got a hard dick from shotting somebody, all he was waiting on was the word. The Cuban must’ve known he was running out of time because the piss that ran down his inner thigh told a story.
I swaggered over to them looking him dead in his eyes with a glare so cold, his mama could probably feel it. “Where the fuck they at?” I gritted.
“Dock,” he whispered. “He runs when it’s time,” he replied in a shaky voice with a shrug knowing he was outnumbered.
I gave Dre a nod of approval and he knew what to do. Without hesitation, he put one in his dome allowing the man’s limp body to drop like a rag doll as the crimson red blood pooled out around him. Hector thought he was about to get away, but I knew better. Just like I knew they would only travel here by water, until they would reach their private jet locations, they would do the same to leave. I walked to the back and opened the sliding door allowing the scent of the warm salt water to hit my nostrils knowing that my dock boys were waiting on ‘July’. I looked up at the small square of Miami sky, made the call and said it into the phone. “July.”
“Understood King,” the voice said before hanging up. Water always knew how to handle shit. Hector would be blown up before he could get too far, and the water would wash his ass away. If I got lucky, El Blanca would be with him too.
We left the house how we found it, outside of the dead Cuban. I sat in the truck and let the cough fight me once again. My ribs felt tender, my head felt like it was plugged but I had to keep going. I took two sips of water and wanted to cuss my own lungs out for failing me right now. Sickness was never good in war.
As we drove off, my second line rang with an unknown number. I didn’t know exactly who it was, but it was definitely one of El Blanca’s. “You cut a rope,” he said.
“Nah, I cut your allowance,” I said. “You’ll learn to budget bitch.”
“You’re soft,” he said. “You think you can kill my cousin, deceive El Blanca and get away with it? You got a grave with your name on it, Chico,” he said, and hung up like I was supposed to give a fuck.
We slid up to the tower to get our heads right before we ended the night. O’Shynn was already packing her things up getting ready to head to the club with extra security andeveryone on high alert. She had this smile on her face like a proud sister. I looked her up and down in her trench coat wondering if she had a bunch of guns underneath, but O’Shynn was too secretive to tell us shit.
“I see the business is cleared. I left it on replay so you can watch. The shit almost gave me an orgasm.” She teased.
“Aye O’Shynn, watch out with all that shit man.” Dique shook his head looking disgusted before he sat down sat down. I was convinced O’Shynn had a secret freaky ass life.
I ignored her ‘cause I didn’t even want to think about it. Instead, I went to the board just as she left. I used my hand to light up the screen, and it flashed me the ping from Key Biscayne. That yacht had no name and was just creeping out the slip like a dude trying to slip out right after he hit a broad, he knew he wasn’t supposed to. It glided, then slowed up, then the tracker on the screen started acting funny which was the exact moment the rope was chopped, and everything blew up with all that cash swimming with the fishes. I just knew at this very moment; El Blanca was losing his mind.
“That’s one hand,” I said to Tone. “Next we going for his mouth since he like talkin’ so much.”
Tone stood next to me and looked at the city the way I did, like it was a woman we knew and still didn’t fully understand. “You ain’t playin’.”
“I don’t have to,” I replied. “I write the game.”
Me and Tone were the last to leave the headquarters and before we did anything else, just the two of us made one more stop to the mailbox house. There weren’t any cameras staggered on poles either, which was good. The one woman with the sundress on looked at us like we could be her nephews or something but after taking a few peeks, she decided to scatter inside of her house after we smiled at her. As if he wasn’t expecting anybody, one man sat on the couch looking tired andwas so fat, I could tell he barely moved. His dark eyes never left mine of Tone’s as we aimed the Glocks at his head. He was surrounded by flowers as if it were a hobby to keep the plants and flowers up to par.
“I don’t care about yo’ flowers,” I said. “I care about yo’ slips, yo’ deposits, yo’ text messages. I want the book you keep in the dish under the sink muhfucka.” I winked.
He hesitated and I walked to the kitchen like it was mine. Folks stashed their dirty shit where they stashed their sugar, in same damn spots. I easily found the blue notebook with the corners all bent up. El Blanca was gon’ learn one way or another the lil black boy he met years ago was now just as smart and just as powerful as him. I flipped it open and read some names out loud. Just like the dirty world we lived in, I saw judges, a preacher, and a few dirty police, that weren’t on my payroll, so they had to be playing for the other side. I snapped photos, pocketed the book, left the TV on and turned it all the way up so the guy could catch the bullets from my Glock coming his way. We dipped out quietly and slipped out just as easily as we slipped in. El Blanca was too busy grieving over Hector to make sure that this coverup was secured because I’d easily found most of his spots… shame on that fat muhfucka.
The drive wasn’t too bad, but we finally made it back to my penthouse. I made myself eat the Haitian soup the chef left and poured a glass of gin and orange juice before heating it up, hoping it temporarily calmed my symptoms. I called Lou’s phone to check on him, and he answered trying to sound tough. “I’m good, boss. Doc said I’ll walk funny for two weeks and then I’ma be back droppin’ dick in these females and puttin’ a bullet in these fools like they did me.”
“Don’t try to move too fast lil Lou, you did good. You don’t have shit to prove to me.” I said. He let out a painful chuckle instead of replying.
When I hung up with Lou, I opened the balcony. It wasn’t cool and it wasn’t warm either… it was just right for Miami. Tone stepped out and lit his joint while standing next to me.
“You ain’t gotta be everywhere man,” he said, with smoke surrounding us. His eyes was set on Biscayne Bay just like mine. “You got us.”
“I know,” I said. “But tonight, I needed them to see me. I needed them to know I’m the one who knocks and the only muhfucka who answers.”
“Aight Heisenberg,” he laughed. “Just don’t start cookin’ meth and shit nigga, since you do it all.”
