White Chris lived on a tree-lined street with big old houses and Lexus SUVs. He thought of his neighborhood as quiet and boring, but I didn’t see it that way. It would be perfect for Kiki. The park across the street was clean and had all the newest play equipment. You didn’t see dealers on the corners or have to duck drive-bys. I planned to move my family here one day . . . if I didn’t get myself killed first.
White Chris answered the door in baggy sweatpants and a wifebeater that showed off his scrawny arms. We went downstairs to shoot pool. His basement had shag carpets, comfy furniture, and hip-hop blaring from the Bose. His production equipment took up half the room. It was all top of the line, thanks to his parents’ deep pockets. They’d bought it for him when he was released from juvie to keep him out of trouble. I knew he’d have stayed out of trouble anyway.
“Thanks for letting me come over,” I said.
He tossed me a cue. “You didn’t get out of the game, did you?”
I shook my head. “One of the fiends is blackmailing me. He saw me with that detective and figured it out. Said he’d put the word out if I didn’t supply him. So I’ve been giving him a free hit every night.”
“That’s fucked up.” He arranged the balls in the triangle. “You want to break?”
I did, slamming the white ball so hard it popped off the table.
He took his shot from the scratch line, sinking a solid in a side pocket. His next shot was off by an inch. “You don’t have too many options.”
“I know.”
“You have to deal with him.”
“How? Give him a plane ticket to Vegas?” But I knew what he was going to say.
“Take him out.” White Chris chalked his cue. “I know it’s the last thing you want to do. But it’s you or him. Who do you want it to be?”
“Neither. I was thinking about paying him off.”
“That might work for a while.”
But it wouldn’t solve the problem. We both knew that.
“Killing someone’s Diamond Tony’s MO, not mine,” I said. “Let’s take it off the table.”
“You’re so noble. I’m sure they’ll think of something nice to write on your tombstone.” He took another shot, this time landing two solids in a row. His next shot sank a striped ball, so I took over.
“I’m not trying to be noble. I’m not even saying he doesn’t deserve it. I just don’t think I could kill him.”
“You could if you had no choice.”
“There has to be another way.”
“Then get someone else to do it. Some fiend who could never prove that you hired him.”
“Yeah, and he’d probably blackmail me too.”
“I’ll break it down for you, bro. If you were on a battlefield and the Vet was holding up a machine gun, would you shoot? Because he’s basically got a gun pointed at your head.”
I knew he was right. But still.
“Look, the Vet’s playing with fire here. If he’s a real war vet, he should know that. Kill or be killed.”
I was about to take another shot when it hit me. “I can handle him the way I handled Jongo.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re gonna let him stab you?”
“No. I’ll let him seal his own fate.”