Chapter 73

After the little meeting with the rats, I followed Jay to a gas station that had a McDonald’s right behind it. It looked like an all-in-one rest stop. After I got out, Jay told me to hurry up and fill up my tank and get out there.

“What’s up, Slim?”

“This the Murder Mac, Nigga. Niggas be getting killed over here all the time, I guess ‘cause it’s right off the highway and right down the street from the mall. This bitch always stay packed. So when you see a nigga you beefin’ with, niggas just come through blastin’. Shiid, three niggas just got smoked ‘round here the other day.” He put me on point as a slightly heavyset brown-skinned guy called out Jay’s name.

“Whuddup, dough?” Jay greeted as the big guy came walking over.

“I see you got that new piano keys, huh?”

“Cut it out, Debo. You been knew I had this bitch, you just tryna be nosy as usual,” I heard Jay tell the big guy, who looked me up and down blatantly as if to say, “Nigga, who the fuck is you?”

“Where you coming from?” he asked as a big-body silver Lexus pulled inside the gas station.

“Joe-D. I just took Gy and Red’s money and shit. Them lames was faking as usual.”

“Yeah, them hot niggas be having that money, though,” Debo said, keeping his eyes on the Lexus and me at the same time.

“Ay, Slim, I’ma go get the gas real quick,” I said wanting to get away so Jay could talk to his nosy friend. I decided to head inside the McDonald’s and get a quick bite to eat. When I got inside, I heard Jay’s chain jingling as he ran behind me. I turned to look out the door and saw Jay running towards the McDonald’s while his fat, nosy friend argued with the driver of the Lexus.

“Yo, that’s the nigga Lucky right there,” Jay said, slightly winded after entering the fast food establishment.

“The Lucky I’m s’posed to meet with Red?” I asked, looking out at the two men going back and forth. “What they out there arguing for?”

“Naw, Debo just on his bullshit, trying to argue the nigga down about some shit. That’s just how Debo is; don’t mind him. But that ain’t the Lucky you s’posed to meet though. His name is Victor Holmes. That nigga out dere is Damien ‘Lucky’ Hawkins.”

“Fuck is up with all these Luckys?” I asked Jay, knowing that the rat’s luck had just ran out.

 “I don’t know.” Jay shrugged as I walked outside and went for my gun.

When I walked up on them, Debo was still arguing with the rat while he pumped gas into the pretty Lexus.

“Nigga, how the fuck you know” the rat asked Debo.

Debo looked at the rat like he lost his mind. “Nigga, I was right dere. Plus I know everything!” he said, pushing his Cartier frames up the bridge of his nose.

“Cut the bullshit De - ”  That was all the rat got out of his mouth before I shot him in the back of the head twice right in front of Debo.

When the rat’s blood sprayed Debo’s face, the big guy backed up a little and began vomiting. The two muffled shots didn’t draw any attention as the rat fell to the ground, already dead. When I turned the gun on the big guy, Jay rushed from the McDonald’s screaming for me to let the big guy live.

“He’s cool! He’s cool!” Jay said as I lowered the weapon and squatted down and began searching the rat’s body.

He had a huge knot of money on him, a diamond chain, and a diamond Rolex. I took everything off him and gave the diamond chain to the big guy. He wiped his mouth and took the chain from me.

“Thanks, main man, but you should’ve checked the nigga’s car. He might got that work up in there. He be having money, fo’ real.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and do that, and whatever you find up in there, call up Jay and split it with him fitty-fitty. If I find out you ain’t do it, I’ll be back in town to see you,” I told him and then walked to the rental car, jumped inside, and pulled off.

I see you looking with your looking ass, nigga, I thought while staring at Jay’s nosy friend and remembering a line from the Rick Rozay song.

One down and three more to go, I told myself as I drove away from the Murder Mac. After helping the place hold up to its deadly reputation, I decided to drive a good distance from the Murder Mac and wait for Jay’s phone call. While waiting on him, I began counting the money I took off the rat, which came out to a little over $15,000.

Nigga, getting that hank out here, I thought as my cell phone began ringing. I looked and saw Markita’s number and I sent her to voicemail. I didn’t need any distractions right now from what I came out here to do:  eliminate $200,000 worth of human rats off the streets of Detroit.