Klax
When Klax got home, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He couldn’t describe the feeling, but after he looked up and down his neighborhood, he dismissed it. He pulled his car around the circular driveway and took notice that his housekeeper, Tallon’s, Toyota Camry wasn’t posted in its usual spot in front of the home. She might have gone to the grocery store since she was the one who handled all of the house’s affairs while he was gone. He didn’t think too much about it since he was going to be in and out anyways. He was just coming to switch cars to something more low-key so that he could move around with ease. He stepped out of the vehicle and put his brown Tims to work as he made his way toward the home. The wind nipped at his ears, so he threw the furry hood of his Prada coat over his head and tucked his hands in his pockets until he reached the door. He unlocked it, twisted the doorknob, pushed it open—
Boom!
The explosion of his three-story home sent him forcefully flying back in the air ten feet onto the pavement. The back of his head hit the concrete hard, but not hard enough to knock him out. Klax felt pain coursing through his body and heard a loud ringing in his ears. He groaned and tried to move, but his muscles betrayed him. Through extremely blurred vision, he saw black figures running toward him and thought his neighbors had come to see about him. He couldn’t make out the words they were saying, but the closer they got, he realized that they weren’t his neighbors. The automatic weapons in their hands were a dead giveaway. He tried to reach for his gun, but his motor skills failed him. The ringing subsided a bit, and when they got up on him, he finally could understand them.
“I’m about to air this nigga out right here,” a gruff voice said.
“Kill him, and that’s your own life. We’re supposed to bring him in alive. Knock his ass out, though.”
Klax was laid out on his back, staring up into the sun when a figure suddenly blocked his view. The next thing he knew, a man wearing Tims stomped him hard in the face, and then there was nothing but darkness. He didn’t know how long he was out, but a splash of coldness brought him back to reality after what felt like seconds. He coughed and choked on what he realized was water after a few moments. He blinked his eyes feverishly until his vision focused, and he whipped his head around to get a better look at his surroundings.
No longer outside of his home, Klax was in a large, partially lit room that smelled badly of mildew. It was hot, and the air around him was very humid. The walls of the room were cement, same as the floor, and just a few lightbulbs were on the ceiling, making the lighting dim. He tried to stand up, but when he found he couldn’t, he looked down at his arms and legs. His ankles, wrists, and torso were bound to a wooden chair, making it impossible for him to move. He was no longer wearing his coat or any shirt, for that matter. He was only in a pair of jeans and his Tims. Suddenly, his memory about the explosion and getting knocked out came back to him, and his heart pounded, not out of fear—out of anger. He summoned all of his strength and fought against his bindings, but it was no use. He could not get free.
“It’s quite a feeling, isn’t it? Feeling helpless, I mean,” a voice from behind him said.
He didn’t need to see the face to know whom it belonged to. He may have only heard it once, but that was all he needed for it to be etched in his head for eternity. Kyan stepped in front of him wearing a black True Religion sweat suit holding an empty bucket. He stood over Klax like a tiger overlooking his prey. The victorious expression on his face was enough to send fire through Klax’s chest. He almost wanted to laugh. He had been worried about everybody else’s safety but his own—the irony.
“Sorry about your crib, man,” Kyan told him with a nonchalant shrug. “We had some extra explosives after planting the others in Tron’s house. I’m sure you understand.”
“So first, Tron, and then me,” Klax finally said. “That’s the game you’re playing?”
“Does it look like I’m playing, boy? I mean, this whole shindig was entertaining; I can’t lie about that. Especially seeing that nephew of mine run around doing all of the hard work for me.”
“You might as well take the ‘neph’ out and just call him by his name. You betrayed him and killed his father in front of him. It doesn’t matter what you do to me. You’ve already signed your death warrant.”
“Who’s going to kill me? Tron? Maybe you haven’t heard yet, but he’s going to be gone for a very long time.”
“Is that right?”
“That’s right. And your family’s bakery would have been on his long list of charges had you not killed my men. I was going to take that building down too, but I admit I underestimated you. Which was why I knew I couldn’t half step it the next time.”
“So it was you that sent those niggas to my sister’s bakery,” Klax said finally believing 100 percent that it wasn’t Tron.
“Guilty,” Kyan said with a shrug. “I also knew he wasn’t going to have the willpower to break her heart by killing you, so it was time to take matters into my own hands.”
“Why am I here? I’m assuming you ain’t do all that and keep me alive just to tell me sorry.”
“Straight to the business, then, huh? A’ight, then,” Kyan said and placed the bucket on the ground.
He grabbed another wooden chair from a corner and dragged it in front of Klax. He sat down and leaned forward, clasping his hands together. Klax thought he was going to start talking, but he stayed quiet and curiously stared Klax in the eyes.
“You gon’ tell me why I’m here now or later? I got all night.”
“You’re a comedian too, I see,” Kyan said with a grin.
“Nah, I only see one clown here. And that’s you.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to name call since you’re at the mercy of this clown-ass nigga,” Kyan said and pulled a joint from behind his ear before sparking it with a lighter he dug out of his pocket. He took a long drag and blew the smoke in Klax’s face. “You’re here because you have something I want.”
“And what is it that you want? Harlem?”
“Bingo,” Kyan said puffing on the joint again. “I want you to willingly step down from the throne and give me all of your territory.”
“And why didn’t you just kill me and take it instead of doing all this? Aah, yeah, I forgot, clowns love theatrics.”
“Now you should know better than that,” Kyan said. “If it were as easy as just killing you, you’d be burning right along with all of your property right now. Nah, I need you to let the streets know that I’m the NIC now. The clout you have is spread long and wide. Everyone speaks so highly of you, even your competition. So if I just take over, no one will listen to me, and there will be nothing but chaos. You know that.”
“And you think they’ll listen to me if I tell them that you got the juice now?”
“I know they will. These people, they think you’re their king.”
“Nah, they just look out because I do. That’s the problem with niggas like you. Everything is about control and power to you. So what makes you think that I would even consider some shit like that? You might as well have killed me. Because that ain’t gon’ happen. Not even if hell froze over.”
“Not even if I have something that you want?”
“You don’t have shit I want,” Klax said and spat at Kyan’s feet. “Fuck you.”
“I figured you’d say something like that,” Kyan said, shaking his head before his eyes went past Klax. He opened his mouth and shouted, “Come on in, NuNu!”
“You can torture me all you want. I ain’t agreei—”
“Klax!”
The tearful cry followed a door opening and shutting. It made Klax stop what he was saying in midsentence and finally, his poker face was broken. A tall, bulky man had entered the room, but he was not alone. He was dragging somebody with him. And that somebody was the one person in the world that Klax would die for.
“Kleigh,” Klax whispered when NuNu tossed her roughly at his feet.
Her hair was all over the place, and when she looked tearfully up at him, he saw globs of blood under her nose. Her right eye was swollen with a broken blood vessel, and it was apparent that it would be black by evening. There were a few cuts on her quivering lips and the nape of her neck. Never in his life had he felt so broken, but seeing his baby sister like that tore him apart inside. It was all his fault. She wouldn’t be in this predicament if it weren’t for him. Tears welled in his eyes but didn’t fall. The sorrow he felt for failing her was too much to bear.
“Klax, they k-k-killed Drop and the others,” she was able to get out. “Whatever they want, don’t tell them shit. They’re gon’ kill us anyway.”
On her last words, NuNu snatched her by the back of her hair and dragged her back out of the room. Her screams of pain brought out Klax’s screams of anger. He rocked the chair trying with all of his might to break free, but still couldn’t. He clenched his teeth tightly, and if looks could kill, Kyan would have been dead ten times.
“Let her go,” Klax growled. “Let her go! This shit don’t have nothing to do with her, and you know it.”
“It does if she’s the only way that I can get what I want out of you,” Kyan said, crossing one leg over the other and clasping his hands together. “You ready to cooperate now?”
Kleigh’s beat-up face was stamped in Klax’s mind. How could he have let things go so far and get so bad? He sat there, madder at himself than anyone else. Especially given the fact that he had the chance to kill Kyan once, but missed his target. Despite what Kleigh had just said, Klax knew he would do whatever he needed to, to save her, even if his attempts were futile. For the first time in life, Klax hung his head. When finally he lifted it, he stared into Kyan’s pleased eyes and nodded his head.
“What you need me to do?”
“I just told you what I needed you to do. Now all you have to say is yes.”
“It’s more than me just stepping down from the position. Your plan is flawed.”
“Is it?” Kyan said, raising his eyebrow in an intrigued manner. “Do enlighten me.”
“You said yourself that I have too much clout, too much love, and too much respect throughout this whole state. Even if I weren’t the king, I would still be the king. Plus, if I leave now, Harlem will seem weak, and the connect may pull all business.”
“Well, how can we get around that then? Use that pretty boy head of yours—or I put your sister’s on the chopping block.”
“If you really want to take my place, you have to get in good with the connect.”
“And how do you suggest that I do that?”
“The only way is to meet with the buyer,” Klax said with a straight face.
“The buyer?”
“He’s the only one the connect meets with alone. And then he distributes all of the product accordingly to every territory. If he says you’re good, then you’re good.”
“A’ight, bet,” Kyan said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Make the call.”
“If it were that easy, don’t you think somebody would have done that by now?” Klax said, shaking his head. “The buyer doesn’t do personal phone calls. He only meets in person, at the spot and time of his choosing.”
“And how do you get in contact with the buyer?”
“I already have a meeting set up two days from now, at a warehouse in downtown Manhattan at six o’clock. I, however, have to be there in one piece, or it’s a no go.”
Kyan eyed Klax scrupulously as if he were looking for a lie. Klax didn’t blink once, and when Kyan was satisfied, he nodded. He stood up and slid the phone he was holding into the pocket of Klax’s jeans.
“That’s yours. Send me the location of the meeting spot. I’ll be in touch.”
“What about my sister?”
“She stays with me until you’ve held up your end of the bargain,” Kyan said.
“The day of the meeting, if I don’t see her there alive, I’m calling it off, and you can find another way to get what you want. Lay another hand on her, same deal. You understand me?”
“Well, looky here, even tied up and useless, you still got a little oomph in you, huh?” Kyan said with a chuckle and started toward the door. “You have my word. Don’t do something stupid when you leave here, like trying to find your sister or me. I have eyes and ears everywhere right now. One false move and the girl is dead. Understand me?”
“I understand,” Klax told him.
“Cut him loose!” Kyan shouted.
On command, the door opened, and five heavily armed men entered. One of them cut all of Klax’s ties, except his hands, while the other put a bag over his head so that all he could see was darkness. He felt a gun press at the back of his head as he was forced to get up and walk. He didn’t know where they were leading him, but when he felt the cold air on his upper body, he knew that he was back outside. However, he only felt the cold for a split second before he was thrown inside the trunk of a car. The entire ride he smelled the stomach-churning odor of a rotting corpse, and that told him that he was not the only body back there. If it weren’t for the fact that the thought of him leaving Kleigh behind made him more nauseated than lying next to a rotting body, he was sure he would have been sick. Not only had he left her for dead, but he also didn’t even know where “for dead” was. He’d spent all that time trying to keep her safe, and it turned out that not even he could do that.
The car stopped after about forty minutes of driving, and the trunk opened. The bag was snatched off his head, and one of the men who Klax recognized as NuNu punched him hard in the abdomen before snatching him out of the car and throwing him on the ground. They untied his hands, and they went straight to his stomach.
“You can walk the rest of the way, chump,” he said with a malicious grin. “Soft-ass nigga. Come on, let’s roll. Let this motherfucka freeze.”
Klax was left holding his ribs when they sped off down the road. He wasn’t even able to see what kind of car they were in, but that didn’t matter because they would all have their day. Slowly, he stood to his feet and looked around. His body was weak, and he swayed a little bit. The sun had set, and he could hear the loud chirping of crickets all around him on the empty road. There were no houses within eyesight, nor were any cars driving by. Klax had no idea where he was. He felt his pocket and pulled the phone out of it. He then called the one person he knew would come through for him.
“Bro!” Adonis shouted when he answered the phone. “I’ve been calling you all fucking day! They got your crib on the news. I thought . . . I thought you were gone, man.”
“He has Kleigh,” was all Klax could say.
“He what? Who’s ‘he’?”
“The same nigga that set Tron up. He got to Kleigh somehow,” Klax told him. “I’m about to send you my location. These niggas dropped me off on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I need you to come get me. I’ma kill all of ’em.”
“I’m on my way, and oh! This might not be the best time to mention it but—”
“Give me this phone, nigga,” Klax heard a voice in the background say.
“You ain’t gotta snatch,” Adonis said, his voice sounding a little further in the background now.
“Yeah, whatever. Hello?” the voice said into the phone.
“Tron?” Klax asked to be sure he wasn’t hearing things.
“In the flesh,” Tron said. “Why you send this hood Carlton up to the prison to get me instead of you?”
“I was a little wrapped up with some things. How’d he get you out?”
“Apparently, homeboy went to my place and found the surveillance camera I hid in a cookie jar. I’ve always been a paranoid kind of nigga. You should see the security setup at my spot in Albany. I ain’t really have time to do all that here, so I did the nanny cam thing. Anyway, the footage showed one of my old hitters Nushawn planting the bombs there while I was gone. They had no choice but to release me. They tried to keep a nigga another night, but Adonis came down and showed his ass at the jail.”
“Nushawn,” Klax inquired. “NuNu?”
“Yup. And your crib has his handiwork written all over it,” Tron told him. “Aye, where the fuck you been? We been tryna reach you since I got out.”
“Kyan had his goons snatch me up,” Klax said.
“And you’re still breathing?”
“For now,” Klax said.
“Why did he let you go?”
“I have something he wants, and he has someone I love,” Klax said.
Kyan didn’t know that what he thought was a simple chess move wasn’t. He had completely changed the game when he took Kleigh. The difference in their positions was that Kyan might have wanted what Klax had, but Klax needed Kleigh. One of them spoke higher volumes.
“He got Kleigh?” Tron’s voice raised in alarm.
“Yeah, he got her,” Klax said, and he heard his voice crack. “He got to my baby sister, man. And if I don’t give him what he wants, he’s gon’ kill her.”
“I ain’t gon’ let that happen.”
“Me either. And that’s why I’m gon’ give him what he wants,” Klax said matter-of-factly.
“What does he want? Money? More product?”
“Nah. He wants me.”
“What? You ain’t making no sense. He just had you.”
“He had me as Klax, the kingpin of Harlem.”
“Bro . . . I’m lost. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain when y’all come swoop me. Pull up. I’m sending my location now.”
“No doubt. We’re on the way.”