It didn’t take long for the news of Su’Rabbit’s death to hit the streets and shake the coast. Real went into a wild, frenetic state and commanded his lieutenants, T-Gutta and V-Money, to close down shop at all the trap houses.
They were moving as if it was a drought. Juvie and Coy were already on the road going north with five cars on the bed of the tow truck, with each car filled with fifty kilos. There was no reason to stop them, but Real did prompt them to keep their eyes open. If they saw anything amiss, Juvie was to take down the threat.
The Swamp Mafia circle was gathered at Real’s palace in the den trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. The slaughter house was low key. If the feds had moved in on him, that meant there was a snitch or the feds had been watching him.
And if they are watching me, they are watching Johnny as well, Real thought. “Johnny says when he did show up, he saw the feds everywhere,” Real told the group.
“Why didn’t he call nobody?” V-Money interrupted Real.
“He says he left his phone rushing to get out of there,” Real retorted, feeling like he was backing up his brother with an explanation. Yet he couldn’t explain the eerie feeling he had.
“Do you think they watched Johnny?” Var asked.
“That was his role, dawg. It would be stupid for us not to think that they weren’t,” Real said.
After speaking with Real, Johnny went to lay low at his bitch Dominique’s house in Fort Pierce City. Everyone knew that the block was hot, and it was prudent for everyone to lay low.
“Listen, shop is closed for three weeks, and I want everyone to lay low. I’m about to skip town. When I get back and everything is good, we’ll open back up. Until then, it’s drought. At the same time, y’all niggas need to keep yo’ ears to the street. Phat Whinny, shut down shop in Okeechobee too. It’s a drought.”
“I got ya, brah,” Phat Whinny replied.
“Bruna, shut down the shop. If the feds are watching, we’ll see them before they see us,” Real paused as he then looked at the faces in the room for any snake aura.
He saw none. The only two faces he couldn’t see were his own flesh and blood, Shamoney and Johnny. He didn’t need to check them. Real knew his siblings better than anyone in the room.
They are like me—thoroughbreds, Real thought.
“Because that’s all we gonna be doing is watching for them, my niggas. We dismissed,” Real said as he stormed upstairs to pack a bag for a small vacation.
Kentucky would be waiting for him to land in Mexico in a few hours.
Once everyone left their separate ways and Real had packed his bags, he called Johnny and relayed to him the same thing he had told everyone else. Real could tell that Johnny was hurt by losing his close friend, from the emotion in his voice.
“Man, lil brah, we all feel your pain. We all out there and all living by the gun. So if the gun does take us, we knew any day that it could. Grieve today, but smile for yo’ nigga and our homie tomorrow,” Real said to Johnny over the phone.
“Thanks, brah! Without you, I’d be on some stupid shit,” Johnny retorted.
“I’m glad you’re not. I’m gonna see Mom and Precious, and then I’m out.”
“Mexico, huh?” Johnny checked for assurance.
“Yeah, Mexico. I got a friend waiting—”
Real stopped talking when his phone died. He didn’t have time to recharge his phone earlier in the day, and the battery was now dead. He simply needed to see his mom and sister and then get out of Martin County and the country altogether.
“I’ll charge this bitch on the plane,” Real said as he tossed a duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed any other one he could find. He planned to look less like he was wealthy and more like a normal fly-ass nigga from out of state going wild in Mexico.
* * *
“I wonder who the hell is in Mexico. Do you think it’s his connect? Maybe we need to warn the Mexican DEA and see what bird falls from the nest,” Agent Smalls suggested.
“No, neither of us can go. He’s seen both of us before, especially you!”
“Shit!” Smalls exclaimed, looking Agent Davis in his eyes.
They had just listened to and recorded Real’s entire conversation at their headquarters in Stuart.
“So, who do we send to watch him? Do we inform the Mexican DEA? FBI? Who?” Smalls asked. “Nobody?” she exclaimed, perplexed.
“Exactly, we will let him enjoy his vacation and wait until he returns to the States. Until then, we will bug all of his establishments, homes, and cars,” Davis explained.
“I see why they say you’re the best partner in the bureau,” Smalls said with a smile on her face.
“How ’bout we go get us some coffee and breakfast at Denny’s,” Davis suggested.
“No donuts for a change!” Smalls added.
“No donuts, unless we flat on our way over there,” Davis said, throwing a curveball that Smalls missed until a moment later.
“So, there is a spare, just in case?”
“Yep!” Davis replied with a smile on his face.
God, them eyes could never get too old. I can clearly see his past years of elegance, Agent Smalls thought as she led the way to the door with Davis on her heels.
She could feel his eyes trained on her nice, firm ass accentuated in her suit. When she stopped abruptly and turned around, she busted him staring at her ass.
“Is that your only concern?” Smalls asked impudently.
“Nah, it’s part of my concerns,” Davis retorted.
“Let’s have breakfast at my hotel,” Smalls suggested.
“Fine with me.”
“I didn’t think there would be any protest,” she said with a girlish smile on her face as they proceeded out the front door of headquarters.
* * *
Polo proudly stepped out of the orphanage building on 129th in Overtown in Miami. He had just donated $20 million for the orphans across seas in Haiti and Africa. The ardent sun was too much for him to bear. Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved his Gucci shades.
“Hot day, Bo-Bo!” Polo spoke in Creole.
“Tell me about it,” said Bo-Bo, who was armored and dressed in all back.
Walking toward the limousine, the chauffeur opened the door for his boss.
“Looks like everything went well, boss,” the Haitian chauffeur spoke, seeing the smile on Polo’s face.
“Yes indeed. It went well, Haitian,” Polo responded as he stepped inside with Bo-Bo behind him.
“There’s a Waffle House over on 169th. Let’s go get us some breakfast,” Polo demanded.
“Yes, sir, boss!”
As they moved through traffic, Polo’s thoughts went to his young lion, Real. Since retreating from the drug business, Polo had seen Real make a tremendous amount of cash. He also had seen the newscast of the FBI killing one of his men, and he had the inside scoop. He was now just waiting on Real to inform him of the news. There was nothing in the data as of now about Real being in trouble. But Polo knew better than to expect that they weren’t. Polo was stuck between a rock and facing a tough decision. He could re-enter the dope game to save his long-time plugs, or let the lion stand in the pit alone. As these thoughts spun around in his head while sitting at a red light at an intersection, when trouble pulled alongside him. On each side were three Haitian mafia men on Ninja 650s.
“Looks like we have company,” Bo-Bo said, reaching for his AR-15 on the floor, only to be stopped short by Polo.
“What harm can they do to us?” Polo spoke in Creole.
Bo-Bo thought about what his boss was actually saying. When they looked at the men on the bikes, they had AK-47s in their hands, and they all squeezed together.
Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop!
Polo chuckled as the bullets ricocheted off the armored limousine. The men became furious and frustrated after seeing that their hit was a fiasco. Seeing that the bullets were useless, one of them quickly attached a bomb under the car.
“Go! Go! Go!” Bo-Bo yelled at the chauffeur, who was startled to death.
“Calm down, Bo-Bo, the gods are with us,” Polo shouted as the limousine pulled off and the Ninja bikes dispersed from the area, going about their day.
Boom!
The bomb exploded, causing the limousine to elevate in the air about a foot off the ground. After the explosion, the limo continued down the road, unharmed by the bomb. The entire limousine was armored to ward off any type of threat. When Polo looked at Bo-Bo, he saw the sweat on his face and tossed him a towel.
“Trust the gods, Bo-Bo. They’re the only ones more powerful than Mr. Polo,” he said to a still-shaken Bo-Bo. “Black will never get that lucky, Bo-Bo. Remember, it’s the gods to trust, not danger,” Polo retorted.
* * *
“So, what did you think? Did you enjoy yourself?” Davis asked Smalls, who lay cozily cuddled up against his well-toned body while running her hands over his wonderful eight-pack abs.
“I think I underestimated you, Tod,” Agent Smalls said.
“I knew you’d admit it. Don’t let the gray hair fool you. Not every white man has White Man Syndrome.”
“I can see that,” Smalls said as she grabbed hold of his semi-erect dick and began stroking him back to life.
“Round two, and then we have round three in the shower,” Smalls said as she sank below the covers and put Davis’s dick in her mouth.
She slowly sucked his large dick while doing tricks with her mouth.
Damn! I can never get enough of you, black woman.
“That’s right, bitch! Suck this dick!” Davis purred, talking dirty to Smalls like she liked it.
“Mmm,” Smalls moaned as she sped up the pace of sucking his dick.
The sound of her slurping on his dick was music to his ears.
“Suck this dick, you pretty cunt!” Davis said as he grabbed her head and forced her to look into his eyes. “Yeah, look daddy in the eyes, baby!” he panted as he felt himself about to explode.
He stopped her and allowed her to stroke him off until he blew in her face.
“Ahh shit, woman! You got me!” he exhaled.
“No, we got each other,” Smalls corrected.
* * *
Like everyone else, Bellda has seen the news and was worried about Real. She had tried to reach him a number of times, but to no avail.
“I can’t believe he’s acting like y’all just wasn’t shit!” LeLe exclaimed while sitting at her table stirring her oatmeal.
“It’s okay. He’ll see how stupid his ass looks, sooner or later,” Bellda retorted, placing her iPhone on the table and wiping the outburst of tears that came from so much built-up hurt.
“Come here, girl. You’ll be alright!” LeLe rushed to her friend’s side.
“I miss him so much!” Bellda cried as she broke down in LeLe’s arms.
LeLe felt her friend’s pain. Bellda was emotionally beaten and exhausted from worrying about when she would get to see Real again. She still loved him unconditionally and just wanted to be in the same room with him, even if they never talked.
“We goin’ to get through this, Bellda. We have to!” LeLe said as she held Bellda in a consoling embrace and let her release all her pained tears.
“I need him!” she cried.