Gods & Gangsters 2 Page 5

  Mac looked at her, like, “How you figure that?”

  “Because sooner or later, they’re gonna want to go in separate directions. Then what? Who do you follow? His or yours?”

  “Mine,” Mac responded without hesitation.

  “Then your loyalty is only a matter of degrees. Here's some truth: Every man wants to be king, but there’s only one crown.” Point made.

  Mac sat back and let her words sink in, but seeing his brow still furrowed with confusion, she added, “Let me ask you something: Do you think Othello would fuck me if he had the chance?”

  The mere thought was enough to spark something primal in Mac; it wasn’t what she said, but how she said it.

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Kandi?”

  Kandi smirked.

  “I’m just saying, if he was to try and kick it to me, and me and you was on one of our outs and shit, and I was lonely…” she let her voice trial off, knowing his mind would fill in the blanks.

  Mac looked at her.

  “Ay yo, Kandi, if you got somethin’ to say, you best say it. You tryin’ to tell me you fucked O? That it?”

  She laughed, because her feminine wiles wanted to toy with him by making him seem like the silly one.

  “Really? You’re really going to ask me that? I’m being hypothetical.”

  “Fuck hypothetical! Did you?”

  “No boy, okay? Damn!” She sighed an exaggerated huff. She knew it was time to let it go. Besides, she’d planted the seed sufficiently deep in the fertile soil of his emotional subconscious. His insecurities would do the rest.

  Mac eyed her for a minute, his mind a collage of unwanted images.

  She started to say something, when her attention was caught by the blur of a car driving by in the opposite direction.

  “Oh hell no! Make a U, make a U!!” She damn near screamed.

  “What up?” He asked, while at the same time looking for a break in traffic to turn around.

  “That’s that bitch Toni! I’ma kill that bitch if she ain’t got my money!” Kandi barked.

  Mac was always down to put in work, especially when it came to her.

  The two of them together were like Bonnie and Clyde.

  Finally, he saw an opening, and U’d the car like a stunt driver.

  Rubber screaming, he dipped, dodged and ran a yellow light before catching up with the burgundy Honda in a McDonald’s drive thru.

  “Block her ass in!” Kandi hissed, as she jumped out of the car.

  Mac followed her, snatching the nine off his waistline as he headed toward the passenger side of the car. He saw the head of what looked like a dude in the passenger seat.

  “Yes, may I take your order?’ A woman’s voice crackled through the static of the order box.

  “Yeah,” not that she got to say much else beyond that first syllable. Kandi punched Toni dead in the mouth.

  “Bitch where my goddamn money!” Kandi grabbed a fistful of Toni’s hair and dragged her out of the car window, kicking and screaming.

  “What the fuck?” The dude exclaimed, reaching for the car handle like he was about to be stupid and try and do something. The kiss of cold steel against his temple sent a tingle down his spine that froze his ass in his seat and saved his life. For now.

  “Just chill, playa. Let them handle they biz,” Mac told him calmly.

  “Wait! Help! I’m sorry!” Toni screeched, when she found herself being stomped on the curb of the drive thru.

  “Where the fuck is my money?”

  “I’ll get it, Kandi, I swear!”

  “Get it means you ain’t got it!” Kandi riffed, punctuating her verbs with kicks.

  She grabbed the Toni by the hair and yanked her head back, forcing Toni to look into her face.

  “Bitch, I don’t give a fuck if you gotta sell a kidney, a kid or your stank ass pussy. If you ain’t got by next week, you one dead bitch.”

  All Toni could do was nod, dazed, blood dripping from her nose. There was more of it smeared across her face.

  The woman’s voice came through the order box again. “Hello? I can’t understand yelling. The speaker distorts. Can I take your order?”

  “Napkins,” Kandi told the speaker. “Plenty of napkins.”

  3

  “Ready? Big smiles, and…” the photographer called out right before snapping the picture. It was going to end up in the leisure section of the newspaper.

  Mona, standing between Joe and Aphrodite, cut the red ribbon in front of her new theater. Adonis was there with his fiancée, Bianca Davenport, a prissy Gabrielle Union lookalike from a very powerful political family.

  Once the pictures had been taken, Mona turned to Joe, all smiles, and gave him a big hug. “Thank you, Daddy! I love it!” She gushed.

  Joe chuckled, loving the feeling of his babygirl in his arms. It reminded him of much simpler times. “Thank yourself. This theater is an investment, and I believe in you enough to invest,” he winked.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Aphrodite beamed, hugging her daughter.

  It was the perfect picture of a happy, content, normal family.

  “Thank you too, Mama, for helping Daddy make up his mind,” Mona cracked.

  They shared a laugh, heading inside hand-in-hand to join the rest of the guests.

  The theater itself was a work of art. The outer facade conjured up images of ancient Roman structures, with its Doric columns and wide stone steps that narrowed as they reached a set of double doors.

  Inside, there were three separate theaters, each seating over five hundred people.

  In the back, there were several classrooms to teach kids dancing and acting, as well as a recording studio for music. It was a good place.

  Mona basked in the spotlight, taking picture after picture, reveling in the praise and the congratulations. Everyone wanted to be a part of her initiative. It was hot, and she was loving every minute of it.

  She was a beautiful woman who knew how to work a room.

  She was the real jewel in her father’s crown.

  “Daddy, I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate this. All of it. I won’t let you down,” she vowed, when she got a minute to breathe between interviews.

  Joe kissed her on the forehead.

  “You never do, kiddo.”

  Mona started to say something, but saw David Bennett looking around. He was carrying an ostentatious bunch of flowers. She turned to Joe.

  “Daddy…” she began, with reproach in her tone.

  Joe shrugged. “It’s a public event.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Okay, maybe I did mention it to him,” he admitted.

  “I told you, I don’t want David. He’s corny.”

  “Corny’s good. Corny is pre-med. Corny is the white picket fences. Corny is...”

  “Not for me,” she giggled. “I want a guy with… swag.”

  “Yeah. Not for you. Street niggas ain’t for you, babygirl. Street niggas will only break your heart and wind up getting themselves killed and you holding the baby.”

  “Mommy seems to have done pretty well,” she parried.

  Joe laughed.

  “Trust me, I’m the exception,” he bragged, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulder.

  Mona laughed.

  “Well, I’m me. Besides, I’m nothing if not Daddy’s Little Girl.”

  “And don’t forget it,” he playfully scolded her.

  David approached through the crowd, all smiles.

  “Hello, Mr. Hamlet. Thanks for inviting me.”

  Mona looked at her father, who smiled, deliberately avoiding her stare as he shook David’s hand. David turned to Mona. It was clear to anyone with eyes that the poor boy was totally in love. “Hi, Mona. Congratulations. You look beautiful.”

  “Congratulations for looking beautiful?” Mona teased, deliberately putting him on the back foot.

  David stammered, “I, um, I meant the theater.”

  “Oh, the theate
r is beautiful,” she smirked.

  David held out the flowers. “I’m shutting up now.”

  She laughed.

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” Joe said, and made his exit.

  “I was just teasing you, David,” Mona said, taking them from him. “The flowers are beautiful.”

  “At least I got something right, huh?”

  “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Anything for you.”

  Mona loved David’s smile. It wasn’t like he wasn’t fine. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Boris Kodjoe. The problem was he just didn’t have that edge Mona craved.

  “So, what are you doing tonight?”

  “I’ve got plans,” Mona replied, looking him in the eyes with a mischievous glint, one he was too nervous to catch.

  “Oh,” David responded, dejectedly, “Maybe some other time.”

  Mona giggled. That was something else about David she liked. In the cat and mouse they played, she was the cat, not just the pussy.

  “You shouldn’t give up so easily, David. A girl likes to feel pursued, desired… chased.”

  David smiled. “Wait, let me go get my running shoes.” Blank stare.

  “That was a joke, by the way.”

  He cringed, dying a little inside.

  “I know.”

  “Where did you have in mind?”

  “This new club named Sensation. It just opened.”

  “Oh yeah, I heard of that spot. It’s supposed to be banging,” Mona remarked.

  “So… what do you say?’

  “I say it’s a date. I’ll bring my girlfriend and you can bring a friend.”

  “Oh… a double date.”

  Mona gave him a smoldering look. “Don’t worry, David, you’ll have me to yourself soon enough.”

  Across the room, Joe approached Adonis. The younger man was admiring an Ernie Banks original hanging outside one of the theaters. “Bianca is a beautiful girl. You did good,” Joe complimented.

  “Is it her or her last name you’re calling beautiful, Pops?” Adonis quipped.

  “Both,” Joe smirked.

  They clinked their glasses in a toast.

  Joe glanced around, making sure there were no extra ears, before saying, “I know you’ve heard about that rock in my shoe.”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “Honestly?” Adonis knew he was being tested. His life was a non-stop test. Joe liked to see how he would react in any given situation. He looked his father in the eye and replied, “Kill him.” Adonis could tell by the way his father smiled that he had failed. Again.

  “But then you would never know who was backing him.”

  “You think someone is backing him? In The Commission?”

  “I don’t think, son. I know. Remember, on this level of the game, there’s always more than meets the eye. Always. If the guy on your left makes a move, it’s probably because of the guy on your right. The ripple effect. See, a ripple may be subtle by itself, the kind of little thing you might miss if you ain’t looking for it. But typhoons are made up of ripples,” Joe jeweled smoothly.

  Adonis nodded.

  “I’ve got a lot to learn.”

  Joe patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ve got a helluva teacher.”

  They both laughed, father and son. How many families dreamed of going into business together? The boy following the old man in the family business. It was no different when that business was criminal.

  “Just pay attention,” Joe continued, “I want you to take a team out there and find this Othello. But don’t move in on him. Use all our resources, pull up traffic cams, run license plates, do whatever it takes to find this son of a bitch. And when you do, you wait… You watch. We need to learn everything we can, follow me?”

  “I got you, Pops,” Adonis assured him.

  Joe nodded.

  “Okay. Now, go take care of that beautiful girl of yours, eh? I expect a lot of grandkids.”

  Adonis watched Joe walk away, thinking: I guess Mona better get to work….

  “This club is buzzing,” Celeste said.

  She, Mona, David and his friend Mark walked in.

  The club was the size of half a football field and overloaded your senses the second you walked in, with an epileptic hell of flashing lights, pulsating rhythms and waves of heat chased by cool breezes that threw off your internal balance. It was all about opening your mind to the possibilities of the night.

  The theme of the club was eroticism and bondage, and it was a feast of subversion and domination for the senses.

  The club was filled end to end with topless women in hanging cages, some chained at the wrist to the cage wall, others by the throat, still free to gyrate and grind to the beats suggestively.

  On the walls, images from porn flicks were projected, each pulse and flash about driving home the not-so subliminal messages meant to give impetus to everyone’s inner demons.

  “This place should’ve been called Club Orgy,” Mona giggled, looking around at the people on all sides, openly engaging in all manner of sex acts. It was like nowhere she had ever been.

  Had she been with anyone else, the club may have had the same effect on her, but not dear sweet David. He wasn’t the type of man to push a woman to the edge of her inhibitions. He waited to be invited.

  “What do you want to drink?” David asked her.

  “What?!” Mona yelled over the music.

  “What do you want to drink!” David repeated louder.

  “Patron,” she yelled back, “Make it two. One for Celeste.”

  David and Mark went toward the bar, while the girls took in the sights.

  Mona was beginning to see she had brought sand to the beach, seeing all the delectable men. None of them moved her though, they simply tempted her….

  Until she saw him.

  He and his team moved like a school of sharks in a pond full of guppies. It was almost regal, as if by his mere presence, he owned the club. Hell, he looked like he owned the night itself.

  It was right there she knew he was destined for great things.

  A man she needed to know in every way.

  Mona, mesmerized, hadn’t realized Celeste had been trying to talk to her.

  When she saw she was being ignored, the girl followed Mona’s line of sight to the reason why and tutted her disdain.

  “He looks like Biggie Smalls,” she said with a screwface.

  “Hey, I always thought Biggie was sexy,” Mona replied, not taking her eyes off him as he swam with his crew into a booth in V.I.P.

  Mona didn’t see the faces of the other two dudes with him, but she did see the two chicks on either side of him.

  “Two girls?” Celeste grunted.

  Mona bit her bottom lip thinking about it. “Must have a lot to offer.”

  David and Mark returned with the drinks.

  “Enjoying yourself?” David asked.

  Mona took her drink and raised it. “The night is young and so are we.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Celeste lied, eyeing Mona. She didn’t wait. She grabbed Mona’s hand and led her off. “I say we leave those two lames and get our party on with Baby! Baby!” Celeste cackled as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “No,” Mona protested weakly, but her hormones were screaming hell yeah in defiance. “That would be rude.”

  “Shit, I’d rather be rude, than be bored,” Celeste shot back. “Now let’s go get at your mystery man.”

  Mona froze in her tracks.

  “Don’t get scared now. The way you were looking at him, ain’t no time to be shy.”

  Mona couldn’t deny the truth of her words. But watching and doing were very different monsters. Like the voyeur who got off on watching the killer do the deed. Not the same sickness, but she was definitely attracted to this dark as night mystery man. “I can’t,” she whined as Celeste dragged her towards her destiny.

  “Of c
ourse you can, girl. Look, he’s got his eye on you, too, see.”

  When Mona looked up, he was definitely beaming down on her.

  “Goddamn, shortie bad,” Othello grunted, relaxing in his booth, with Milk and Venus on either side of him and Mac on the outside, keeping his eyes on the crowd. King of the castle.

  Cash, on the other hand, had his plate full with the Zoe Kravitz-looking hottie he had hemmed up in the corner, hands halfway up her dress and tongue down her throat.

  “I know her from somewhere,” Mac remarked, but the music was too loud for Othello to hear him.

  “Ay yo, O, I’m out! Bitch say she gotta twin!” Cash cackled with lustful glee, as he gave O and Mac a departing dap.

  “Be safe!” Othello yelled after him, his voice barely carrying over the music.

  When Cash turned around to leave, Mona saw him. Her heart leapt to her throat. It wasn’t because he was fine. It was deeper. Secret deep. Past deep. But Cash never saw her.

  “What’s wrong?” Celeste asked.

  “Cash.”

  “Cash?”

  Mona looked at Celeste, her eyes a reflection of her past. “Cash.”

  Celeste’s eyes widened with understanding. “That Cash?”

  “The Cash,” Mona confirmed.

  “Daaaaaaaaamn,” Celeste cursed.

  Othello saw the look. It was quick, and it didn’t fully register with him right then as he approached Mona, drink in hand. But later, when things grew complicated and his mind was under the influence of his inner demons—whispered to and fed by an outer demon with devilish wishes and hellish conspiracies—he would remember that look and wonder how he missed it. It spoke volumes. Or it would, rather. But in that moment, all Othello saw was Mona’s angelic beauty.

  “Excuse me, miss,” he spoke as he walked up, all smiles. “I just wanted to wish you a Happy Anniversary.”

  Mona, still reeling after the specter of the past had dissipated from view, turned to him with a man killer smile, and replied with a confused, “Anniversary?”

  Othello smiled.

  “Just getting a head start for this time next year.”

  That brought a smile out of her, but she had sass. “What makes you think you’ll last that long?” Mona’s sexy smirk was garbed in a hint of challenge.