Chapter 3
“Daddy! Look at the fishies in the water!”
Arrik smiled as he watched his three-year-old daughter play by the man-made pond in the backyard of his three-story home. That summer day was a hot one, and he sat at the glass table that was positioned on his large concrete patio. A few of his partners sat at the table with him, and a few feet away they had the grill going. It was a mini-celebration for a successful hit the night before. That morning the news showed that a man by the name of Demetrius Simpson and his whole family were found slaughtered in his West Omaha home. The police had no leads on who had done the deed, and that was all Arrik needed to hear before he turned the television off.
He grabbed the Rémy bottle from the middle of the table and topped off his white Styrofoam cup. Holding the cup in the air, he looked around the table at his most trusted, and delegated a cheer.
“To snake-ass niggas being off the streets!”
“I second that!” Arrik’s oldest friend, Roley, said with a smile on his face.
The two men had known each other since they were ten years old and had been thick as thieves ever since. Arrik was tall, muscular, and of Native American descent. He had smooth, honey brown skin that had a hint of red in it and a handsome square face; and he wore his thick, long hair in two Cherokee braids. He was what most girls called a “pretty boy,” but there was nothing pretty about the ruthlessness in his heart. Roley, on the other hand, was only five foot seven, stocky, and wore his hair in a brush cut. He had full pink lips, and his skin and eyes were the same color brown. He was what most girls would deem “all right looking,” but he kept himself up in the latest trendy gear and stayed with some ice on his body. The duo matched each other’s fly, but most importantly they matched each other’s loyalty.
After the table took their swig of Rémy, Roley nodded his head at Arrik. “So, what now? Now, since that greasy-ass nigga is off our streets, what’s the next plan to level up? I know you got something up your sleeve. You been wearing that scheming look on your face all day!”
Arrik looked at Roley and grinned at how well his friend knew him. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to watch his daughter play for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the table.
“Ay, y’all, go make sure Naomi is straight, and one of y’all check the meat on the grill. If there’s enough space, throw them shrimp on. I already put ’em on the skewers.”
Arrik dismissed everyone at the table but Roley, and they already knew what time it was. The bosses had business to discuss, and Arrik kept everything on a need-to-know basis with his soldiers. He paid them well, so they never complained and always complied with his demands.
When it was just the two of them left at the table, Arrik faced Roley with a serious expression. “Yo, man, what’s good? You lookin’ at me like you got some bad news to tell me.”
“Nah.” Arrik shook his head. “Just some real shit. Some real serious shit.”
“Nigga, please don’t tell me you got another thot pregnant. I love my niece, but her mama is a straight ho, dog. I told yo’ ass to stay out them strip clubs!”
“Chill,” Arrik said, trying to keep a straight face. “I learned my lesson the last time. I don’t have any more kids on the way. Not even a possibility.”
And that was the truth. Arrik had been so busy handling his business it had been a while since he welcomed a woman to his bed. Naomi’s mother, Malasia, had done a number on him, and ever since he had been unwilling to let another woman close to his heart. When he met her, the beautiful twenty-four-year-old was stacked the way he liked his women: fat ass, small waist, with a pussy so wet that he got caught slipping. One night of pleasure turned into a lifetime responsibility when she wound up pregnant.
He ignored all of Roley’s warnings and took Malasia straight from the strip club and into his home. There was no way he could just leave her if she was carrying his seed. He was aware that many of the strippers at the club she was working at did recreational drugs. He told her that she would have to dead that immediately if she wanted to be his girl, which she claimed she did. He found out when she had their daughter one month prematurely that she was lying. Naomi was born with so much cocaine in her system that the doctors had no hope that she would make it. That was the day Arrik knew he was done with Malasia. He knew he didn’t love her; he was forcing their relationship because of their child. He didn’t have a father growing up, and he wanted to give his baby girl the sense of a two-parent home with two parents who loved her; however, seeing her lying in the NICU with all of those tubes in her body, he realized she only had one parent who cared.
His baby girl was a survivor. She made it through that first night, and every night after. It was not hard for Malasia’s parental rights to be stripped and for Arrik to be granted full custody. Malasia didn’t even put up a fight because the moment that she was stable enough, she skipped town. Arrik hadn’t seen her since, and the last he heard was that she was back dancing at the same club he found her in.
“I’ll never do that again. Hell nah.” Arrik took another swig of his drink. “I learned my lesson from fucking with the most ratchet out of the crop. I will never get caught up like that again.”
“So, what’s the news then, boss?”
“Now that I have Demetrius handled, I can put my eyes back on the prize.”
“And that is?”
“Expansion. Sadie ain’t been too happy with me since them muhfuckas ran up in the spot and robbed me last winter. I was on pins and needles with her, but lately she’s been liking the shit we been on. We’ve been pulling in and pushing out work like it’s nothing. She feeling that shit.”
“All right, what’s the word then?”
“It’s looking like we’re setting up shop in Chicago, my guy.”
“That’s love!” Roley said with a big smile on his face. He was seeing money signs in his sights already. “Man, my nigga, I don’t even know how you got in with them, but ever since we got plugged by the Last Kings, the revenue has been amazing.”
Arrik’s eyes became hazy for a second as he remembered what he did to gain Ray Thompson’s trust. Blinking twice, he came back to and shrugged. “Shit, a nigga just had to stick and move.”
Roley knew when not to press the issue with Arrik. Although he had always wanted to know how Arrik got them on with the Last Kings, he also knew it was something that his boy didn’t want to talk about. He opted to change the subject in hopes of changing the mood.
“Speaking of sticking and moving, where is your boy at?” Roley checked the time on his phone and saw that it read ten minutes after one. “I thought he said he would be here at one.”
Arrik too checked the time on his smartphone and saw that the guest of honor was late. Shortly after he had watched the news, he got an unexpected call with some interesting accusations. Normally, he wouldn’t allow someone to come to where he laid his head, but under the circumstances, he made an exception. Plus, if there was any man willing to try to get through his security to harm him, more power to him. It was like Fort Knox all throughout his home.
“I guess what he needed to say wasn’t that important,” Arrik answered, but just as he was about to say something else, he looked up to see two of his soldiers coming around the side of his house.
They had somebody with them, a face that was familiar to Arrik, being that he had just done business with him. His soldiers stopped walking but allowed the man they had in tow to continue toward where Arrik was sitting. Their hands were on their waists, just in case the man tried anything funny. Arrik stood to his feet when the man got close enough to his table and then gave his soldiers a nod of dismissal, sending them back to their posts. The newcomer extended his hand to Arrik, who shook it firmly.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Arrik. This is a mighty fine place you have here.”
“Thank you, Amos,” Arrik said and motioned toward an empty seat. “Join us. We were just talkin’ about how we didn’t think you were going to show.”
“I don’t have any reason to fake,” Amos said. “My day just got a little hectic, that’s all.”
“I understand that,” Roley said. “As a man in the field, my days get hectic too. But one thing I have never been is late to a business meeting that I orchestrated.”
“And you are?” It was obvious by Amos’s tone that he didn’t like the way he’d been addressed.
“I’m Roley. Nice to meet you.”
Amos didn’t return the words. Instead, he smoothed down his white Ralph Lauren T-shirt and pulled up his cargo shorts before sitting in the seat Arrik had indicated to him. When he did, Arrik followed suit and hopped right to business.
“Good work you and your team put in for me. I appreciate y’all for handling that for me. But, see, after the drop last night, I didn’t think I would ever see any of your faces again. You said you have some information that is imperative to my business. What is it?”
Amos suddenly reached his hand in the deep pockets of his cargo pants, causing both Roley and Arrik to reach for their weapons. Amos did not pull out a gun, however. Instead, he pulled out two thick, crisp stacks of hundreds and tossed them to the middle of the table.
“Y’all got robbed last night,” he said simply and leaned back in his chair. “There was an extra fifty thousand in the safe that Justin Hood didn’t tell you about. When I asked him about it, he expressed his true feelings about you and your little operation, and let’s just say he has no respect for you.”
Arrik’s jaw clenched as he stared at the money. Granted, he only asked to be brought Demetrius’s product, but the fact that the extra currency wasn’t even mentioned made him feel a type of way. Keeping his expression even, not wanting to see a gutter nigga like Amos see him sweat, Arrik leaned toward him and sneered.
“And I’m supposed to believe that you have some respect for me?”
“Believe what you want.” Amos shrugged. “All I’m saying is that I see what you’re doing here, and I like the way you move. Out of respect for your intake, I felt obligated to inform you of what was going on.”
“Why? Are you tryin’a get put on or something?”
“Maybe, maybe not. You see, the money seen from being in my form of business is a gamble. It all depends on the job and, well, the jobs have been decreasing. They don’t accommodate the type of lifestyle I have become accustomed to living. I need something that is going bring the currency in at a steady rate, and with that being said, I think that I would be an asset to you and your entire operation.”
There was silence after Amos spoke, mostly because Arrik was trying to figure out if he was being serious. When nobody laughed, Arrik nodded his head.
“All right, but what can you do for or offer me to solidify your seat at my table? Did the bullets from your gun take the lives of Demetrius and his family?”
“Yes,” Amos said without blinking. “Justin and the others were more worried about stuffing their bags with treasures than the job at hand. Me and my partner handled the job by ourselves, which is another reason why I felt slighted enough to come to you in the first place.”
“Partner?”
The moment the word was out of his mouth, Arrik’s security returned, that time with a new face in tow. Roley stood to his feet and removed the burner from his waist, looking with a displeased expression from Amos to the new guy.
“Who the fuck is this nigga? You were supposed to come alone.”
“And I did,” Amos replied to Roley. “We drove separate vehicles.”
His smart remark almost cost him a bullet to the skull. Luckily, Arrik saved him.
“Who is he?” he asked, not yet allowing the new man clearance to approach the table.
“That’s my mans. He helped me put in most of the work last night, and now he’s here on the same shit that I’m on: redemption.”
Arrik eyed the newcomer for a few moments before nodding his head. The security let him through, but that time they didn’t go back to their posts. Instead, they kept their feet planted and kept their eyes on the table their boss was at.
“This is Malik,” Amos told them before they could ask. “Malik, these are the gentlemen Justin wouldn’t let us come and meet last night when he made the drop-off.”
“Now I understand why,” Malik said, holding his hand out for Roley shake. “This is a nice spot y’all have here. One day maybe I’ll be able to afford one just like it.”
Malik completely ignored the fact that Roley was pointing a gun at him. He figured if he was that hell-bent on using it, he would have already popped off. He kept his hand out until, finally, Roley lowered the gun slowly and shook it.
“Roley,” he said, introducing himself. “I would say it’s nice to meet you, but your boy hasn’t yet told me what it is you two can offer us.”
“Sounds like Amos.” Malik smirked and shook his head at Amos. “It took me almost an hour to find this spot, and you still haven’t gotten to the point. See, Amos here can open any lock known to man within five minutes.”
“Three,” Amos corrected him.
“Excuse me, three. And I”—Malik chuckled—“well, I know where I can lead you to five million dollars’ worth of diamonds.”
That piqued Arrik’s interest. He looked at Roley, who also seemed interested, and then looked back to Malik. He contemplated his next move in his head while taking another swig of his drink. That was a lot of diamonds, and in the right market, he was sure he could make ten times the amount.
“Why can’t you two get them yourselves?” Arrik finally asked. “You come into my home speaking about fifty bands, and now the talk is five mil. What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Malik told him. “We are all businessmen here, and as a businessman, I know for a fact that there is no point moving in a city where another king already resides. The thing is, I don’t care about being king, as long as I have the king on my side. That’s good enough for me. The thing is, you have the connects, and it ain’t no secret that you been on pins and needles with the Last Kings with all that Demetrius shit. That nigga had you looking like a baby boy, not a monster.”
“You don’t know shit about me, my nigga, so don’t speak like you do.” Arrik’s growl was full of contempt, and it made Malik switch his approach to the situation.
“Look, I’m not on any disrespect. All I’m saying is I have a way for you to secure a quick bag, and with that money, you can cop whatever you need to from them to let them know you ain’t hurting no more. With two million dollars’ worth of diamonds, it will be like Demetrius never existed.”
“I want half,” Arrik said sharply.
“What?”
“You said two million, but I want half of the five. The extra five hundred thousand is my fee for my services. If you can’t do that, you can leave, and we can act like this conversation never happened.”
Arrik watched Malik’s jaw clench ever so slightly as he pondered over what he would say next. His eyes never left Malik’s, and finally, after almost three minutes, Malik nodded his head.
“Deal, but the shit has to be foolproof. I need your most trained killers on this one.”
“Who did you say had these diamonds again?” Arrik asked, curious about Malik’s request.
“Justin Hood.”