Chapter 13
Boogie had Tazz and Gino meet him and Bentley at an old insurance building that Barry had purchased a few months prior. He had plans to turn it into the second location of Big Wheel Automotive. Nobody but Boogie knew about it, so it was a safe meeting spot. The inside of the building had a bunch of wooden boards lying around and debris from the drywall. It looked like whatever construction company had been hired stopped in the middle of the job. No doubt that was because of Barry, but now that Boogie knew he was the new owner of everything that had been his father’s, he was going to make sure the job was finished. However, at that moment, leaning on a wall would have to do.
Tazz and Gino arrived minutes apart from each other, both dressed similarly to Boogie and Bentley.
“Man, all this dust and shit is fuckin’ up the Yeezys!” Tazz complained, looking around at the mess.
“What you gon’ be sayin later when you got blood on ’em?” Bentley asked, shaking his head.
“Pssh, nigga, I don’t know about you, but I ain’t never get blood on my shoes,” Tazz told him. “The voice on the phone belonged to you, so you must be Bentley. So, who is he?” He pointed to where Gino was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees.
“That’s my cousin Gino I was tellin’ you about. The one who told us where Shane was hidin’ at.”
“Aw, you mean the nigga who couldn’t get eyes on the inside,” Tazz said, and Gino smacked his teeth.
“Ain’t nobody ask me all that,” he corrected him. “They asked where Shane was at, and I came through with the info.”
“I’m just fuckin’ with you. Chill out, man. We all had a part to play in this,” Tazz said and turned to Boogie. He reached in a pocket of his pants and pulled out a piece of paper. “Ol’ girl ya boy is stayin’ with.”
“Stephanie?” Gino asked curiously.
“Yeah. She works at the club Diane runs. I used to see her from time to time when I, uh, stopped by there.”
“Stopped by, huh?” Boogie said sarcastically.
“Look, my dealings there ain’t nobody’s business but mine.”
“It seems like everybody knows Stephanie. We sure we can trust her? Especially if she got wrapped up in a nigga like Shane?”
“She owes me. I stopped a nigga from almost killin’ her one night, and I cashed in on that favor.”
“What you mean?”
“Look and see for yourself,” Tazz said and handed him the paper in his hand.
Boogie unfolded it to see exactly what Tazz was talking about. It was a drawing, but not just any drawing. It was a blueprint of Stephanie’s floor. It showed that she lived on the second floor and the setup of that very floor. She’d drawn a hallway with the other apartments that led to hers at the end of the hall. She’d even drawn the inside of her home with the fire escape connected to her bedroom window.
“Look on the back,” Tazz instructed.
“Damn,” Boogie said when he did. There Stephanie had written down everything Shane had to do and rough time frames. “Good lookin’.”
“No doubt,” Tazz told him. “I met her at the job as soon as we got off the phone last night. Apparently she ain’t too happy with the way he’s been treatin’ her lately.”
“Well, it seems like a woman scorned is my best friend,” Boogie said, passing the paper to Bentley and Gino.
“Yo, Boog, did you see this?” Bentley asked after looking over the paper. “It says here that Shane is takin’ his truck to get fixed today at four o’clock.”
“Yeah, I saw it.”
“Did you see where?”
Boogie took the piece of paper back from him and looked to where Bentley was talking about. He could barely make out Stephanie’s handwriting, but he tried. “Yeah, it says he’s takin’ the truck to BW’s,” Boogie said, and it clicked as soon as it was out of his mouth. His eyes grew wide, and he looked back up at Bentley. “He’s takin’ a hit on Big Wheel.”
“Not if we can stop it,” Tazz cut in. “We know when this nigga is planning on doin’ it. We just gotta get to him before then.”
“How the fuck we gon’ do that? That nigga keeps an army around him at all times. We ain’t gon’ be able to get through them without getting killed or injured badly,” Gino stated, and Boogie had to agree.
“Who’s sayin’ anything about goin’ through his soldiers?” Bentley asked. He turned to Boogie. “I was thinkin’ more of a ‘get in and get out without bein’ seen’ type plan.”
“I’m listenin’,” Boogie told him.
“Have you ever seen the movie Colombiana?”
* * *
The sound of glass shattering caught the attention of three men who were standing in the back of the Brick Heights apartment complex. Jumping into action, they all looked to see where the noise had come from and saw a man in tattered clothing staggering toward them. He was mumbling something in drunken slurs that none of them could understand. He continued to get closer to them, and they clutched their poles.
“Ay, motherfucka, you need to get the fuck on somewhere,” one of them warned with his hand around the handle of the gun in his pants. “Yo, did you hear what the fuck I just said?”
“D, he’s a drunk. Chill out. He probably can’t even tell you where he’s at right now.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” D said, pulling out his gun and approaching the man who was having a hard time walking in a straight line. “Eric, watch my back since this nigga Bone is bein’ a bitch.”
D, a young man in his mid-twenties, grabbed the drunk by his arm and pulled back the thin hood he was wearing. Minus the wear and tear, and the fact that it was obvious life was kicking the man’s ass, he didn’t look to be too much older than D. He had a scar that had long since healed on his cheek, and his eyes were bloodshot. He smelled so badly of alcohol and cigarettes that D turned his nose up.
“You a smelly-ass nigga, you know that?” D asked and nudged the man’s head with his gun.
“Drank . . . I dropped my drank,” the man slurred, trying to focus on D’s face. “Give me a few dollars to get another. Y’all owe me.”
“You think money grows on trees?” D scoffed. “Shit, maybe you do. That’s why you’re walkin’ around stinkin’ and shit. If you want some money outta me, you gon’ have to dance like a monkey or somethin’.”
“I ain’t dancing like no monkey to impress a monkey!” the man exclaimed. “Your mama musta fucked a gorilla to make something as ugly as you!”
Eric and Bone snickered behind D, and he glared at them. He didn’t think anything was funny, especially the thought of getting played by a homeless man. He shoved him hard, making him fall to the ground.
“Get the fuck on before shit has to get ugly,” D warned.
“I ain’t leavin’ here until you tell that motherfucka Shane I said I want my money!”
His words caught D off guard as he got back to his feet. Behind him, Eric and Bone exchanged looks. Silently they were asking each other the same question, and that question was, how did a drunk man know where Shane was lying low?
“Ain’t nobody by the name Shane here,” D growled.
“Lyin’-ass nigga! He’s here and I want my money. I did a job for him while he was here weeks ago. He said he was gon’ give me five hundred dollars. I done gone through all my Hen . . . Hennessy bottles waitin’, and I can’t wait no more. I want my money!”
His voice was getting too loud, and D felt he had no other choice but to hit him in the jaw. The man fell to the ground again easily, but when he got back up, he went back to shouting about the money Shane supposedly owed him. He was relentless. D wanted to shoot him right then and there, but he didn’t want to blow up Shane’s spot. He would be a dead man walking if he did that. Plus, it was too early in the day, and there was a lot of traffic in and out of the complex. Normally people didn’t come to the back, but still, nobody would be able to ignore a gunshot or a dead body on the concrete. D groaned as he looked at the man and figured it would be best to take him to see Shane and let him sort it out.
“A’ight, man. What’s your name?” D asked.
“Alfonzo,” he answered.
“And you say Shane owes you money? A’ight. Let’s go see about that.” D grabbed him by the arm and forced him to walk. “And I hope you’re right about it. Because Shane doesn’t take too lightly to people wastin’ his time.”
“And I don’t take too lightly to people not payin’ me what they owe!” Alfonzo snatched away. “I might be drunk, but I can walk my damn self. I might sidestep a bit, but I’ll get there! Now hurry up so I can get my money, or else everybody is gon’ know that this outsider is in Brooklyn.”
Bone and Eric chuckled, and D shot them irritated looks. He still didn’t find dude funny. The only thing Alfonzo had was a lot of nerve.
“Bone, you come with me,” he said, “just in case this nigga tries some funny shit when we get inside.”
Bone nodded and opened the door they had all been standing in front of. Once they were inside, D pushed Alfonzo toward a carpeted staircase. Alfonzo stumbled up the steps on the way to the second floor, but like he had told D, he got there.
“D, I don’t think Shane owes him any money, man,” Bone said in a low tone.
“I don’t think he does either, but it’s either blow his head off outside or somewhere we can easily clean it up,” D said with a shrug.
They walked to the end of the hallway on the second floor until they got to apartment 201. D knocked twice before the door swung open, and he was met by a man holding a semi-automatic. He nodded his greeting at D and Bone, but when his eyes fell on the man in ragged clothes with them, he turned his lip up.
“Who is the smelly nigga?”
“Somebody who knows Shane is here,” D said to him. “He claims he owes him some money. And if he doesn’t get his money, he’s willin’ to sing to the world that we’re in Brooklyn.”
“Why you ain’t just handle that downstairs?”
“’Cause, nigga, that would be stupid. Too many eyes and ears.”
“A’ight, man,” the man at the door said with a sigh. “But that’s your ass. You know Shane don’t like random popups after what happened the last time he was here. He in the back.”
He stepped aside and let them in. There were five other men inside the apartment. Some were counting money, and others were smoking. Alfonzo began looking all around the apartment, and D didn’t like that. He shoved him hard.
“Ay, keep your eyes straight, motherfucka,” he instructed.
When they reached the back den, D knocked on one of the double doors and waited for it to open. He noticed that Bone was standing a little ways away from them. Before he could turn to acknowledge it, one of the doors opened. Shane stood there staring at him with annoyance in his eyes that quickly turned into fire when he saw Alfonzo standing there.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“He said you owe him some money, boss,” D told him.
“Nigga, are you stupid? I don’t owe nobody in this city no fuckin’ money. Please don’t tell me that’s the reason your dumb ass brought him up here. I’ma kill you, you know that, right?”
“He . . . he knew where to find you already though, boss,” Bone spoke up from behind them. “He walked right up to us and started talkin’ too loud.”
“Yeah, that’s why we brought him up here. I couldn’t handle him the way I wanted to while we were downstairs. Name’s Alfonzo.”
Shane—whose face was still healing, but he refused to wear a bandage any longer—eyed all of them before resting his gaze on Alfonzo. He studied him almost as if he were trying to recognize him. He clenched both of his hands into fists before slowly unclenching, and he let out a loud, bearlike shout.
“You two, get the fuck out of here,” Shane said to D and Bone. “When I’m done with this motherfucka, you’re gon’ have an idea of what I’ll do to you if you ever do some shit like this again.”
D and Bone only needed to be told once. When they were gone, Shane motioned for Alfonzo to enter the bedroom and told the other men to get out. “And don’t come back in here until I tell you to, understand?”
“Got it, boss,” the three men said in unison as they exited.
When Shane and Alfonzo were alone, Shane closed the door and locked it. It was obvious that the bedroom was a lady’s bedroom, with the pink comforter set and the silver decor along the walls. Alfonzo’s eyes brushed the walls before he turned to Shane and glared at him.
“You don’t scare me, you slimy motherfucka. I want my money!” Alfonzo slurred.
Shane stared at him in disgust. “You really came all the way over here to risk your life for ten dollars?” he asked.
“Five hundred!”
“Same difference,” Shane said and looked curiously at him. “I’ve heard of liquid courage, but I ain’t never heard of liquid suicide. Who sent you?”
“What the hell you talkin’ about? I sent me, motherfucka!” Alfonzo said, taking a step toward Shane.
With one swift punch, Shane knocked him back into one of the chairs against the wall. Alfonzo’s hand flew to his cheek, and he hunched over.
“I can tell when somebody is lyin’ to me.” Shane turned his nose up. “You one of Boogie’s people?”
“You know what your first mistake was?” Alfonzo said with a chuckle.
“What?”
“You didn’t make sure I wasn’t strapped.”
Faster than Shane could blink, Alfonzo pulled a gun from his ankle. He pointed it directly at Shane’s forehead. Shane also noticed that the slurred speech was gone and there was a fire in his eyes. In the distance outside of the apartment, Shane could hear gunfire, and he was confused. What was happening? The door to the room bust open, and Alfonzo switched his aim to the three men running into the room. He fired his gun three times and dropped them all before they could even really see what was happening. The front door of the apartment was kicked in, and from the back room they could see glimpses of all of Shane’s men being gunned down.
“What the fuck?” Shane’s eyes grew big, and he turned back to Alfonzo. “Who the hell are you, Alfonzo?”
“First, my name ain’t really Alfonzo. It’s Tazz. Second, you asked me earlier who I work for. Well, I work for him.” He motioned the gun in his hand to something behind Shane.
The ruckus in the house had been so loud that he hadn’t even heard the window that led to the fire escape open. When he turned around, he was face-to-face with Boogie. He tried to grab for the gun on his waist, but Tazz cocked his gun.
“Try it and I’ma wet your shirt up.” He snatched the gun from Shane’s waist and the one on his ankle.
“Good work, Tazz,” Boogie said to the man who had been introduced to Shane as Alfonzo.
“No problem, cuz. Handle your business,” Tazz said.
Boogie pulled out his own pistol and pointed it at Shane, who glared back at him. He was angry at himself for once again being on the wrong end of the gun.
“You should really treat the women in your life better,” Boogie taunted. “Because shit like this can happen. All your shooters’ blood is in the streets, and it’s on your hands.”
It clicked with Shane that he had been set up, and his own people had accidently served him on a platter to his enemies. It was funny actually, so funny that he had to laugh. What started as a low chuckle turned into an all-out bellow.
“So you found me. Good for you.” He feigned clapping his hands.
“Yup, and before you could make a hit on Big Wheel.”
“Make a hit on Big Wheel? Now why would I do that?”
“We know you’re plannin’ on goin’ there today.”
“Okay. That don’t mean I’m goin’ to shoot it up.” Shane chuckled again. “The only reason I shot up the cleaners was because I knew you were there.”
“Then why go?”
Shane stared into Boogie’s face. He could tell there were many thoughts crossing his mind right then, and most of them probably didn’t make sense to him. He wanted to laugh because he really had no clue what was going on around him. Boogie was so naive, too naive, and truthfully Shane had zero pity for him. The thought of everything that had taken place in the background caused a deep, crazed laugh to seep through his lips.
“What you findin’ so funny? ’Cause ain’t nobody else in here laughing. I asked you a question, so answer.”
“I’ll pass. I have a question for you though. Don’t you want to know how your father died?”
It was so random, and Shane could tell that it had thrown Boogie off. Shane’s eyes went to the gun in Boogie’s hand and waited for it to lower. Boogie’s hand wavered slightly, but the pistol stayed pointed at Shane.
“Yo, what the fuck did you just say?” Boogie asked.
“You heard me, nigga,” Shane said with a slow smile forming on his mouth. “Do you want to know how he died? Because I can tell you. They did unthinkable things to that man, and he screamed like a girl the entire time. And when they got to choppin’ off his toes, well, if the streets had heard him, they would have called your dad a whole ho.”
The last words out of Shane’s mouth were his trigger. Boogie smacked Shane across the face with his gun. The force was so powerful that Shane saw one of his own teeth hit the floor. Shane groaned in pain because Boogie had hit the side that had been shot.
“Boog,” Tazz said from the corner. “He’s just tryin’a rile you up. Hold your head.”
“Yeah,” Shane panted and spat out a glob of blood. “Listen to your mans, Boog.”
“Stop speakin’ on shit you don’t know about then.”
“You just can’t be as dumb as you look. Do you think I made that shit up? The details about his death weren’t in the media. Ask yourself how I know.”
“Because you did it.”
“Mmm, no. I wish I could take the credit for that, but I can’t. But do you think me bein’ in New York at the same time your old man was gunned down was a coincidence? Do you really think there is no connection at all? Think about it. How could we have made that much money under the radar in your city without anyone knowing about it? How could we have moved so freely? It was all part of the plan, and getting Barry out of the way was only a small part of it. Pretty soon, you’ll all be out of the way.”
“Boog, off this nigga now. We’re too hot out here. One of the neighbors probably already called the police. Bentley and Gino are probably outside right now waitin’ for us.”
“He knows somethin’,” Boogie said to Tazz and then turned back to Shane. “Tell me who killed him.”
“Fuck you,” Shane said and spat on his feet.
“Then I’m gon’ make your daddy mourn you the same way I’m mourning my dad.”
Before he could finish his sentence, Shane quickly reached and grabbed the hand that Boogie was holding the gun with. Boogie pulled the trigger, but Shane had already moved out of the way and made him drop the gun. He had a grip on Boogie’s wrist and grabbed his elbow to turn him around so that he blocked Tazz’s aim.
“You know who killed your dad just like I know who did. Those close brotherhoods never seem to last, do they?” Shane said. “And it’s not over yet. Soon, y’all gon’ just be a memory. It’s time for new blood. We’re gon’ take ov—”
Those were the last words Shane spoke before Boogie broke the grip he had on him. Shane had been expecting Boogie to go for his gun. He never expected a bare fist to meet his face. Boogie began plowing into him with combination punches so fast that Shane couldn’t block any of them. Each blow felt like he was being hit with a weight, and he was never able to catch his breath. His head bounced back from each punch until he was on his back again, and even then, the hits didn’t stop. His head bounced off the ground, and he felt the life draining out of him. That time, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to come back from the dead. He felt the wetness from his own blood underneath the back of his head and knew it was over for him. Soon, he didn’t even feel Boogie’s punches. In fact, he didn’t feel anything. The only thing he saw was Boogie finally pick his gun up from the floor and aim it at his face.
“Let’s do it right this time,” he said, and Shane closed his eyes before the final shots rang out.
Boom! Boom! Boom!