The following morning, I woke up alone in bed. Veneshia was gone, but if that was bacon I was smelling, I knew where she was. I came out of the room to find Veneshia sitting in my chair with her leg crossed, smoking a bob and reading the paper and, of course, she had the ladies working. Three of them were cleaning the apartment; one dusting, one swept the floor, while the other held the dust pan. Stephanie and another woman were in the kitchen cooking breakfast for everybody.
“Good morning, daddy,” Veneshia said and got up quickly.
The other ladies stopped what they were doing, rushed in the living room and formed a line in front of me like I was going to do inspection or some shit.
“Good morning, daddy,” they all said.
“Stop calling me that.” I took a breath. “Is the food ready?”
“Almost,” Stephanie said. “Bacon and pancakes are done. I just need to fix some eggs.” Veneshia nodded and the two of them went back in the kitchen.
“Let me know when it’s ready,” I said and was about to go back in the room thinking about taking a shower.
“You gonna take a shower?” Veneshia asked.
“I was thinking about it. Why?”
“You want one of them to come bathe you?”
“No,” I said and closed the door behind me.
My intention for the day was to find them someplace safe to work. Once I found them a safe place to take their men, I would take over the corner and make sure they were protected. And I also wanted to make sure they were healthy. “So, they all need to see a doctor,” I said aloud.
When the food was ready, Veneshia sent Stephanie in with it. She offered to feed me, but I told her no and thanked her for the food and she left the room.
She was probably wondering what kind of pimp I was. I laughed and started eating.
One that ain’t no pimp.
I was a thief, a gambler, and an enforcer. That’s what I am, or should I say was, until I killed Silky. Andre’s business was drugs. All that other shit meant little to him and that’s where I saw my opportunity; in gambling. But the whole pimp game, I never had any interest in it. The only one still running hoes was Drew now that Bodie was dead. After that, his hoes went to work for Drew and he put them right on the corner.
But Drew didn’t want Silky’s women, said they were too busted up to work for him, and they were. With the exception of Veneshia, all of them were looking beat the fuck down the night we killed Silky. Like I said, they all looked a lot better now. Their wounds had a chance to heal; they even look like they got some new clothes. I’m sure that was Veneshia’s doing.
I got up and came out of the room on my way to the kitchen to take my plate. Two of the ladies practically ran over each other trying to take the plate from me.
Veneshia stood up. “Okay, ladies. Play time is over and it is time to get to work.”
“No!” I said and all of them jumped. “All of you need to see a doctor today. Complete physicals for everyone.” I pointed in Veneshia’s face. “Understand?”
“Yes, daddy, I understand.”
“Come on,” I said and went to my room. “And stop calling me that.”
“Yes, daddy.”
I gave her my doctor’s number and tried to give her some money, but the result was the same. She rounded up the ladies, and I went to see Andre.
After extending his condolences again, we talked about business for a while and then he sent me to collect fifty large from Wilson Goode. He was a hustler, but for some stupid reason, he let Andre talk him into putting some product in the street. Obviously, it didn’t go well for him, so now he gets a visit from me. Since I couldn’t find Bobby or Freeze, I called Nick.
“Come scoop me up, I gotta make a run.”
When we got to Wilson’s apartment, nobody answered, so I kicked the door in. I went inside and there was Wilson, along with two very pretty ladies. They were both naked and all Wilson had on was his underwear.
Then I looked at the coffee table and my eyes narrowed.
“What the fuck! What the fuck you mutha fuckas doing here? And my fuckin’ door! Y’all gonna fix my door.”
Wilson was shouting, but I wasn’t listening. All I saw was the dope and those pipes on the table. I looked at the two women and all I could see was Vickie. Neither of them looked anything like her, but in my mind, they both became her.
“Andre sent us. He wants his money,” I heard Nick say and then Wilson started yelling some shit back, but I was all in my head about Vickie.
I looked at the women and the blow on the table and wondered how many times Vickie had been in this situation, freakin’ some nigga like Wilson for cocaine. I looked at Wilson and wondered if he had ever had Vickie like that.
“You two get dressed and get outta here,” I said.
“They ain’t gotta go nowhere. Y’all ain’t gotta go nowhere. They were just about to leave.”
“I ain’t gonna say it again,” And with that, both ladies got up and went in the bedroom. “Go with them, Nick.”
While Nick was watching the ladies get dressed, Wilson was wolfing some shit at me, but I knew it was for the benefit of the ladies, so I let him talk.
My mind was still on Vickie and why I didn’t do more to help her. I knew that we should have, but I agreed with Wanda that she wasn’t that far gone that we needed to do something. Now, both of us are beating ourselves up over our decision to do nothing when we should have done something.
Once Nick came out of the room and escorted the ladies out, I took my gun and the silencer out of my pocket because I had already decided that Wilson was gonna die.
“Search the place, Nick. Find me some money.”
While Wilson ran his mouth about how he was gonna come up with the money, I stared at the blow on the table and put the silencer on my gun. I closed my eyes and I could see her face, hear her voice and it made me open my eyes. Thoughts of Vickie hurt: hurt worse than anything that I had ever experienced, and I wanted it to stop.
But I couldn’t. I just sat there in that chair, staring at the table and thinking. My friend is dead, and I feel guilty because sometimes I was so caught up in my own shit to be there for her when she needed me to be. How was it even possible that I’m actually dealing with this shit; because she isn't supposed to be dead.
It made me think that a big part of my life was gone. I had known Vickie since I was eight. And I started thinking about the little things. I remember one day, me and Vickie were waiting for the ice cream truck, so I could get an Italian Icy. That was a big thing for me back then because my mother didn’t always have money to give me for ice cream. But that day, I had money. As soon as he handed it to me, Vickie snatched it out of my hand and started running. And Vickie was fast, faster than all of us kids on the block.
She ran and hesitated, ducked and dodged, bobbed and weaved, talkin’ about, ‘slow poke Mike, never gonna catch me’, and I couldn’t. We used to laugh about that all the time, but that will never happen again. Knowing that she wouldn't be coming to The Late Night anymore to get herself into trouble that I had to get her out of, and thinking that maybe that's a good thing, but knowing that it isn't.
“I found this under the mattress,” Nick said and handed me twenty-grand.
“On the real, Black, I need that money to make this thing happen. Give me ‘til tomorrow, Black. I’ll make it worthwhile for both of you.”
I stood up, raised my gun and fired two shots to Wilson’s head.